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#like I understand WHY it's like that but it also gets me every time
copperbadge · 2 days
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Let's Talk About Missing Persons
So, I've seen this post circulating last week, and a few others like it in the past year. I think this probably needs to be discussed every few years, and it feels like time.
First, a few caveats: there are reports on the post that Abby has been located and is fine, so no need to reblog and also that's great news, I'm very happy she is safe. Second, I did not especially doubt the veracity of the post, so I'm not impugning the people who made and posted it, but I also declined to reblog it for reasons I'll get into. Third, I know that especially in marginalized communities it can be dangerous to involve the police, and that Missing White Woman Syndrome means it can be difficult to get media coverage. I understand why Abby's community may have chosen to search for her in the way they did.
However, for everyone's safety, I do not link any missing persons post that requires you to contact an individual to report the missing person's whereabouts. If the poster doesn't ask you to contact the police or a known missing persons organization, I won't do it.
This is for the safety of the missing person.
When you see a post with someone's photo, name, and last known whereabouts, and you are asked to contact an individual -- a family member, partner, friend, etc -- what you are being asked to do is report on the whereabouts of one person you don't know to another person you don't know. You don't know that the person you're talking to isn't an abusive partner or parent, a stalker, or a person who means them material harm. One of the Insta accounts in the missing image doesn't appear to exist, and another has no bio and very little captioning on their images. I couldn't verify that Abby even knew these people.
Again: when I looked at the image, it looked sincere to me. I didn't doubt those people were earnestly searching for a friend they were worried about. But also, an abuser doesn't look like an abuser until they do. So I don't make exceptions, because a missing person is missing but a victim outed to their abuser has strong odds of being murdered. The most dangerous time in the life of an abused person is when they are leaving their abuser. Even if a victim simply logs on to say "Hey, I'm fine, these people mean me harm" the abuser has now flushed them out of hiding, and manipulated them into making a public statement.
If you can't verify positively that the person searching does not mean the missing person harm, you should not be circulating a post, full stop. At the very least, if the community doesn't wish for the help of the police (understandable) or can't get the help of an organization or community (frequent), the missing persons poster should advise you to speak to the missing person, not the searcher, and notify them they're being sought, as long as it's safe for both you and them to do so.
This isn't intuitive. We want to help, and search posters like that tug on the heartstrings. We know that when the police get involved even in something this innocuous, it can be perilous for everyone. But in situations where someone is so vulnerable, we have to concern ourselves first with harm reduction, which in this case means not spreading someone's photo with a stranger's contact information on it.
I'm glad Abby was found and is fine and that her searchers were in earnest. But that will not always be the case, and it's important to remember that.
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kaivenom · 3 days
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Doctor's appointment
Summary: it's time for a semestral medical checking on the Heart's Pirate crew, but apparently the new member it's having an especial treatment.
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Warnings: porn with a little bit of plot, masturbation (m to f), smut (p in v), doctor appointment fantasy, pervert!Law
A/N: this is based on a dream i had so don't judge the plot holes, just enjoy the porn. This is one of my first times writing smut so i hope to get better with time.
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Apparently, since the captain is also the doctor, it's required to do a medical checking for everything that could go wrong. Now it's the time to do it and you didn't know what to expect. Your other crewmates say that you didn't have nothing to worry about but they are men and you are a woman, you never know how things can go.
You took two deep breaths before entering Law's consult room, you feel yourself shaking nervously. He was sitting, legs crossed and looking a book.
"You finally arrived," your eyes met for a second, "get to the examination table.
You did as he said so, next to the talbe where to drawers, just if you could put your feet there.
"Wait, take of your clothes," you thanked that he didn't saw your face get red, you didn't understand anything, "or you just could take off your lower clothes and leave on your bra."
"Why?, if i may ask." you didn't have the bravery to be naked next to your captain.
"Because it's a medical check-up and since you are a woman, i need to check down there."
You couldn't refuse his arguments and his eyes were so penetrating that you took your pants and underwear off, you decided to keep the shirt just preserve some dignity.
The check was weird, you were flustered all the time and couldn't even look him at the eyes. At least, he looked completely focused on his task to look on the eyes, the thing is that he is looking directly into your cunt.
"You know captain?" you only good a umh on response, "i don't think i could look at you after this."
"And who says you need to see me?" suddenly you feel his warm breath on your thights.
"Cap-captain?" you asked almost fainting away.
"I said you don't need to see me... just sense me."
His mouth touched you skin and started to get up until it's almost on your clit, you grabbed the arms of the chair, tense from all the situation. You made the mistake to look down at him and he grinned at you mischievously.
"Relax, if you don't do that then you won't enjoy the ride."
You couldn't answer, only gasp feeling his tongue doing a long lick on your cunt. His grip was strong and you coudln't move but right now you don't know if you have the strenght or the desire to move.
Feeling this, Law started to move more confident. His tongue starting to circle you clit, sending you shivers down your spine. You try to cover your mouth from moaning and revealing your weakness to your captain.
"Who would have thoguht that you would be so willing to stay on the chair."
"Law, why?"
"Why not?" another long lick and now one finger playing your entrance.
His finger finally entered you, moving slowly, with upper movements making you discover new places of your insides. With every second it was more difficult to hide your sounds. His pace got more steady drving you to the edge of the orgasm, almost there but not quite yet.
"Someone is liking this more than it should."
"What do yo expect if you are doing that to me?" you try to sound confident but your voice cracks with every movement.
"Then i am happy to be doing it good, but i am just getting started."
You try to understand what he was talking about when another finger entered your cunt, stretching your insides even more. All that with his tongue on your clit, was making the perfect combination to making you crazy.
Youre orgasm was almost there, moans and groans escaping from your mouth, now without shame anticipating the release... but then stopped.
"What the ...?" you said without thinking 'cause of the frustation.
"Ohhh, someone is getting really needy uh?" his word made you flustered, "don't worry, now we will have the best part, the both of us."
Law got up from the chair and lean forward to you, now youre eyes are meeting only a few instances away. His dark eyes looking like it coudl penetrate your soul, there's no smile anymore. His face starts to get closer to you until his lips met yours in a slow kiss. Suddenly you hear his zipper unbutton but you couldn't look thanks to his hands catching your face to lift you up a little and put you on the edge of the chair again. His hands started to go lower to your butt, smacking it once before separating himself for a moment and finish releasing his throbbing member.
"Do you like what you see?" arrousal starts to reapear on your cunt and you try to squeeze your legs to hide it, but he didn't let you, "No, you won't do that," he grabs your thights and push him between you, now his member directly touching with your pussy.
"What will you do?"
"I think we both know and i think we will like."
He took his member and aligned it with your entrance, torturosly slow entering you. You grab him by the neck, trying to find some support and he lets you while groaning.
"Fuck, this is better than i imagined, your pussy is..." his apparently cocky facade from previously is now dissapearing with every inch he enters your body.
"You feel very good too." you say, trying to concentrate on something, but his difficult only hearing his low grunts and groans.
"Don't say that, or i am going to cum very soon," now you are the one who is moaning on his ear, "i am going to move."
At first his thrusts were slow and tender, feeling a heat wave travel thru your body and getting to his. The started to feel more needy, both of you, and started to move faster and stronger. Your bodies moving in harmony, trying to reach the grat desired orgasm.
"Oh, Law, i am close!" you almost exhaled that, starting to loose your voice from moaning and trying to breathe thru the desire.
"Oh god, i am close too, i want to fill you." thaat made the desire desappear for a moment."
"No, i can't risk getting pr..."
"I have medicines to that, i am a doctor, remember?" with that affirmation, you decided to let it happen.
The pressure that has been building in your stomach finally exploded, making you scratch a Law's back, but that made him cum in even faster, with a low gasp. His hot sperm filling you up with such strenght that even starts to follow outside your pussy and drip on the chair.
"Ohhh, that was really good." his thumb carresed your cheek tenderly while both of yourtry to recompose yourselves.
"Yeah, it was," you lean back on the chair to catch your breath.
"Would you like ro get to my bedroom? you know, to clean ourselves, take and bath and sleep? You must have a reward for being a good girl on you medical check."
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allwaswell16 · 2 days
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A fic rec of One Direction fics in which a character had experienced abuse of some form in the past as requested in this ask. Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here.
- Louis/Harry -
🧱 Run Like the Devil by benzos
(E, 143k, Supernatural au) Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.
🧱 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere
(E, 124k, omegaverse) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
🧱 Hang there like fruit, my soul/Till the tree die by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992
(M, 111k, omegaverse) Louis knows he's a defective omega. He knows its also not his fault but it is what it is. He takes the world head on even when the world is unkind to him. 
🧱 Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry
(E, 110k, punk Louis) the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.
🧱 The Naked Truth by @larrysmomfics
(E, 80k, Naked Attraction au) The producers of Naked Attraction decide to do a 'Second Chances' edition of the show where past contestants who didn't find love on the show the first time can re-apply in hopes that the second time's a charm. 
🧱 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds
(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.
🧱 Shout It From The Rooftops by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation
(M, 70k, PTSD) Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.
🧱 These High Walls by LarryAlways28
(E, 68k, omegaverse) Born to one of Seattle's wealthiest families,  Harry was raised exactly as a Styles heir should be: sharp as a tack, witty, charming, and powerful. He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega.
🧱 you're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece by Valentia
(E, 50k, uni) The one where Harry is soft and pretty but doesn't see it and Louis just wants to love him the way he deserves.
🧱 elephant juice by @stylinsoncity
(M, 32k, uni) harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.
🧱 With These Arms Folded by @taggiecb
(NR, 21k, famous/not famous) Harry Styles is living a peaceful existence in California as a very successful songwriter. That is until he receives a curious email one sunny summer morning, and his life almost immediately gets turned upside down buy a force that's bigger than any storm he's seen outside his window.
🧱 why take your life when you give it so willingly by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 19k, pirates) When Louis Tomlinson, Captain of The Rogue, ends up adrift at sea after Captain Cowell attacks his ship, he is surprised to find his enemy, Captain Styles, coming to his rescue.
🧱 vatican cameos by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale
(T, 14k, asexuality) sometimes louis gets sad and sometimes harry lets louis write on him
🧱 Just a touch of your love by @thegirlontheblackhoodie
(E, 12k, omegaverse) Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.
🧱 You've Got A New Life (Am I Bothering you?) by LilyBlue28
(NR, 5k, omegaverse) the one where Louis is an omega who suffers from PTSD and is triggered one day. He doesn't know how to ask for help from his doting alpha, doesn't think he deserves it, and tries to handle it on his own.
🧱 I Don't Wanna Hurt Anymore by offwiththeirheads / @hazzabooween
(M, 5k, kidfic) Harry walks a thin line between breaking his best friend’s heart and fighting a losing battle.
- Rare Pairs -
🧱 Sugar, We're Going Down by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 131k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) At 37, Nick has everything he could possibly want in life: huge success in business, a Bachelor of the Year award hanging in his toilet, piles of money, and a rather odd little habit of visiting a cafe with terrible service on his way into the office every morning.
🧱 It's You by happily_missy
(E, 56k, Zayn/Liam) Liam is a PA for a famous fashion designer and Zayn is their gorgeous new model.
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kanmom51 · 1 day
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https://twitter.com/parkjmwins/status/1782358915939774874
Idk whether you will even answer this ask or will block me but this is exactly why JK had similar concept pics like Jimin. Jikookers made it to be romantic while Fandom made it to a joke 'JK always copy Jimin' (ofcourse). I've seen you making multiple posts about Jikook concept pics being match is a proof of them being a couple when in reality Hybe don't even take permission of original artist before using their ideas for another. One hybe label just got into trouble for copying newjeans and according to CEO min heejin it was BANG SHIHYUK who wanted to copy newjeans to create a second version of them through illit. And guess what he made sure illit gets 10x more success than newjeans, a 2 day song was already charting in different charts including hot 100. The same bang shihyuk who ignored every bit of Jimin's success but shamelessly copied his ideas and visions of concept pics for another favorite member. He shamelessly asks staffs to copy original ideas of artists who created them and use them for a cheap version of the said artist, Newjeans and Jimin are just examples.
Was it JK's fault ? Not necessarily but unlike rookie Illit he had power and capability to make his own decisions and use his own visions instead of doing what he was asked to do by the staff (his words) but he didn't and sat comfortably while using another person's hardwork. If you still think those similarities were because they were couple then idk what to say because in that logic Newjeans girls and Illit girls are dating.
Talk about TikTok generation ask.
Linking me to a tweet that has zero actual information and/or proper discussion, just stating a fact that isn't necessarily even a fact. Ignoring the full picture (like y'all do when it comes to Jikook as well, btw).
And I also find it so so funny how you are basically hanging your all on something that a very problematic figure within the Kpop industry is claiming, all to try and deflect from despicable behaviour she's being accused of, including using and revealing private info of Hybe idols obtained in illegal and despicable manors, perhaps including having to do with certain private info leaking of certain BTS members (including the one person that you so vehemently claim to love and stand in defense of).
You think that by sending me this link you are proving something?
You say that you read through my posts. Well, obviously you've missed those many posts I've written explaining how JM and JK being a couple can be deducted not from one action or one behaviour alone, but the combination of many many actions or behaviours. A puzzle built of not 10 or 50 or 100 pieces, but one built of so many many more.
I find it funny how with everything that has been going on with JM and JK you guys are still at this.
We're back to JK copying JM.
Like seriously.
Like even if the whole NJ Illit thing was true there was some kind of a comparison to be made with these two men.
Like JK, who's album concept is 180 degrees different than JM's doesn't have stylists at his beck and call to create a concept that isn't a full on copy of JM's. Right down to the studs and colours and minutiae details of some of the outfits.
Like if he did copy JM, that same scorned poor JM (that's how you guys love to portray him, as a damsel in distress awaiting you to swoop in and save him) CHOSE to fly to NY to be with JK and spend Silver day there with him, travel with him multiple times and spend his entire 18 months in the army with that awful copy cat JK.
Your ask tells me that you have zero understanding in human interactions and relationships. JM saying time and time again, JOKING time and time again, about JK copying him, it's a tease but also something that he LOVES. How he inspires JK, how JK perceives him as his catalyst.
But this here, the photo concepts and the whole of JK's wardrobe while promoting, claiming it's all about copying JM is just bull crap. This was planned. And it was planned by the two of them. It's not a coincidence that JM happens to wear the bottom part of a two piece outfit months before JK wears the top part of the same exact outfit.
And if we are talking about copying, is it the concept he's copying or is he so far gone that he's literally copying down to the smallest of details?
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Like seriously. You think that's about copying JM?
Or because it worked for JM so he thinks it will work for him? Literally same hairstyle rocking as JM had in Face? Cause why not use a concept that works? Seriously? JK's all "I should do this cause it worked for JM so it will work for me"?
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Was that what he was thinking when he rocked a highlight of JM's hair colour over the years? That the colour works for JM so I should have a strand of that colour in my hair as well, copying his success? Is that the theory you're working with?
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Or when JK wore the same jacket as JM on Valentines day, you know, in a clip that JM himself records and uploads, that JK also copying JM?
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Babe, this isn't just about the concept pics either. And it's not just about Face and Seven or Golden. Wearing the actual same black leather or leather-like pants just because he couldn't find any other pants? That level of copying? Or perhaps it wasn't about copying and more about mirroring.
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About "You are me I am you", which they have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years now!!!
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It amazes me how you have zero issue in taking an over decade long complex super close relationship (no matter how you perceive it they are super close) and simplifying it into "JK copied JM's concept because JM's concept worked for him", or to even compare whatever went on with JK and JM and those similarities to a claim made (by a disgruntled and caught red handed employee of Hybe) about one new GG copying concepts and whatever from a GG that's been around for 2 years now. No connection between them. No long term relationships between the groups. One group supposedly copying from another. Yeah, definitely the comparison needed to be made between that and Jikook's behaviours or decision making.
How infantile of you.
Oh and that paragraph of yours at the end. Laughable really.
Like I already said, go compare 2 GGs in two different companies to 2 men that have been close for over 10 years now. And let's also disregard the long history of those two doing the similar and same outfit (during official shoots, performances etc, or during their free time) thing and look at this one single concept.
Probably styled (funny how the styling seems to be similar for years now on many occasions, and just with the two of them)
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Not styled.
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These are just examples of MANY MORE instances.
Oh, and I suggest you go read this post too. Not mine, but recently written and oh so relevant to the conversation.
I can't help but wonder how different your pov would have been if one of those two young men was a female. Just thought I would throw that in here too.
But I gotta give you an A for persistence. You guys, you never give up, do you? No matter what JK and JM will throw at you, you will find a way to twist it around to fit your narratives. I guess you also think that JM was forced into enlistment with JK, ah? And their trips together and the content that will drop, also forced on him? I guess him saying otherwise isn't enough to convince you guys either, right? I love the way how you guys are so intrenched in your belief of victimhood that you don't even listen to what JM himself tells you. You love him so much that basically call him a liar. Good for yous I guess.
So, to clarify my answer to you, just in case it wasn't as clear as day already...
You do you, cause nothing I tell you, or show you, or you know what? Nothing that even JM himself will tell you or show you will satisfy you. Because you are living in a self built fantasy of what and who JM is and what and who those that surround him are, all to fit that narrative of yours in which he needs you guys as his saviours and knights in shining armour to swoop in and save him from the big bad JK.
One more thing.
JM's Face was a masterpiece.
We all agree on that. JK included.
He adores JM, he's his no. 1 fan and he's been showing us this throughout 2023.
JK is not a person that would callously copy a concept used by a bandmate just because it succeeded for his bandmate and might work for him too.
Let alone from JM.
His person.
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Not even if, as you put it, he was told to do so by the powers at be (which yeah, he'd tell to go shove it up their asses if they ever did 'tell' him to do that btw, and they wouldn't do it anyway seeing that they know that would be his exact reaction).
So, no.
That is my answer to you.
Just a whole big fat NOPE.
No to copying. And surprisingly no to blocking you.
Yet.
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hauntedpearl · 1 day
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s12 destiel from dean's perspective is explanation enough for why dean is sooooo insane after that season. like.
- first he almost kills himself for the greater good or whatever and has to come to terms with like. dying. on purpose. and then he is given the gift of life but before he can be like yay! i can go home! his mom is back from the dead??? and his brother is missing???
- then his mom leaves him bc she wants to figure out who she is and even tho he's like a 38 yo man it fucks w him a lot understandably.
-they get arrested and put in SOLITARY for a while and when they finally get out and meet cas again (at which point dean has once again come to terms with dying for the greater good but also mostly his mom and brother this time), he KILLS THE REAPER THEY MADE THE DEAL WITH AND GETS ALL EMOTIONAL??? after which he proceeds to fuck off bc he is Busy™ tracking lucifer etc.,
- then they get a lead and CAS ALMOST DIES IN FRONT OF HIS EYES and throws an I love you in his goodbye speech for the lolz. which. hahaha. anyway cas lives but turns out his mother — with whom he's trying to connect so badly so he can achieve full Normalcy — was like. lowkey responsible for his almost death. so they're fighting now.
- cas receives a divine voicemail from his close friend and colleague and then they go on that case with Lily sunder and ISHIM BEATS CAS UP AND THREATENS TO KILL HIM and even after they beat him Lily Sunder is like. I'm gonna go do some soul searching and if im in the mood I'll come back and KILL YOU. THREAT. and cas is like 😔 fair. so you know.
- there is also an instance of him losing his memories which is scary. and it's like. being intimately familiar with that experience is. something else. as a memory loss girlie let me tell you 👍🏽😄
- and then!!!!! lucifer's unborn child mind melds with his wifehusband — once more in front of his own two eyes — and "manipulates" him into running away with the pregnant lady instead of staying and Figuring Out A Solution. and when they finally do find cas, they are with them for all of 12 hours before HE DIES. FORREAL THIS TIME. AND LIKE THAT'S IT. NO COMING BACK FROM THAT ONE!
this is not an exhaustive list bc i don't remember everything but. like you know. he was primed to get worse and worse. all things that happen in s12 are out of his control but they are also things that happen in front of his eyes, and in ways that make him think that perhaps he did have control over them and he did fuck up some way and he *should* have done something to change the course of their lives so he's filled with guiltshame about it. and he decides that the solution to not losing anyone in the foreseeable future is to just. Control Every Possible Aspect Of Their Existence. which is impossible and that's why he gets mad all the time but YOU KNOW. YOU CAN SEE WHY HE'S CRAZY. poor s12 dean man.
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moeblob · 2 days
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You know, when I kept getting asked "so you didn't ever have severe pains before now?" in the hospital and I kept replying "I have a high pain tolerance" I meant it. However, there is only so much pain my tiny 4'9" body can hold... (aka I am sweating and in agony bc I'm getting told to use LESS severe pain meds so I don't rely on them too much and it is AWFUL)
#moe talks a lot#i was shaking earlier and despite the fact i sound like im gonna cry#and the fact that my mom can pick out im about to cry from pain bc im trying to take less pain meds#LIKE MY MOM IS INSTRUCTING ME TO DO#shes like well why arent you taking any pain meds#BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO AVAILABLE OPTIONS AND ON A SIX HOUR TIMER#i cant take both at once or else what happens to me if i hurt before the six hours is up#i have to manage them in a way that allows me to benefit from both and being told im doing it wrong#after being told well its your fault it got so bad because you never complained about pain before#YEAH NO JOKE? REALLY? I NEVER DID? because everyone acts like im too young to feel that kinda pain#oh youre hurting? just wait until youre older#and its currently agony to breathe again but that i guess is also my fault bc im trying to use pain meds#holy moly i just want to not get dizzy standing up cause wow dang#sure would be nice if the multiple incisions in my stomach didnt THROB every time i sneezed or coughed or cleared my throat#but since i didnt use much pain meds before because i would be mocked for being too much of a baby its like#welp damn now i could really use some and im being called out for being too reliant#anyway time to sleep more because that means im not noticing my pain#im literally smaller than most children and so i do understand my body size makes people worried about the medication intake#but can i please just go a day without being asked how much im taking or when i last took it or if im gonna cry#anyway sorry for the excessive rant today never really had surgery or anything so this is brand spankin new suffering
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lover-of-mine · 2 days
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Okay, I have been desperately trying to figure out what the blue and yellow means, right? I have been driving myself crazy.
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And the other day I saw an edit and I was like "I'm stupid, I'm looking in the wrong place" but I didn't have the time to check this theory until earlier today, and now I'm losing my mind. So for this one, I'm gonna use the fact that they are using the sun on a wall and that they completed the blue and green with Buck and Eddie at the gym scene with the bottle and the towel to assume I am right, and they complete these things with other elements of the scene, wall, decoration, everything.
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Okay, so, when tracking the blue and green thing so I could make this post, I kept wondering why there aren't a lot of Henren examples of it, this season has given us a few more examples, but I'm pretty sure there are only these 2 examples before season 7. But like, I didn't think much of it even though I didn't understand why.
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But Anna, I thought this was about the blue and yellow, why you talking about the blue and green? Well, I think the blue and yellow is the blue and green for queer couples. Stay with me, I promise I have enough proof to create a reasonable doubt lol.
Okay, so, the other day I saw a henren edit that had their first date and I already had the yellow behind Eddie in my mind and was like, that's interesting, their first date is blue and yellow. So I had that in my head.
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Then, someone is making a Karen in every episode series, and I saw a set of her in yellow and was like "wait, I need to stop looking for answers in the straight couples, buddie is a queer couple, I need to see if this is a pattern that has already been established for the other queer couple, do henren have different rules?" and yes, I think they do.
Going back to the blue and green thing for a second, the easiest couple to track the blue and green is madney. Every couple has worn blue and green, but they have been blue and green since their first scene. And while they do wear blue and green for inconsequential scenes, they are in blue and green for things like getting back together in season 6, finding out Jee is a girl, the date after Doug, the hospital after Doug, the whole Boston episode is blue and green in nature, I talk about that in more detail in my blue and green meta if you're interested.
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So, assuming they are establishing the blue and yellow with henren in the same way they do the blue and green with madney, blue and yellow in important henren scenes sounded like a nice bet since the blue and yellow is present on their first date, right? And the same way Boston is inherently blue and green, tomorrow is very blue and yellow.
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But you don't really think I'm telling you I established a pattern with only one episode, right? Using other elements of the scene, considering the way they are using the sun a lot with buddie, I have quite a few examples, going back down to when they accept that the IVF didn't work and that they'll be okay. I also really like the way the club in fomo is lit in blue and yellow.
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But Anna, you are using the wall a lot. Yes, I am using the wall a lot. Why am I using the wall a lot? You know how madney is the guide for the blue and green? Their house is blue and green. Like decorations and stuff. Mostly the kitchen, but still. The detailing there, the pans, the blue chairs, the blue couch. Even Jee's room is greenish.
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So, henren's house being yellow works, I think.
Another point towards that is the way that Buck's bi awakening is blue and yellow.
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So, I'm gonna go insane and say the blue and yellow thing is the blue and green thing but queer.
But, looking at that and knowing that we are using other elements of the scene, buddie gets interesting. The earliest example I can find with henren is in 3x04 when they are discussing the IVF.
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So I'm not gonna look before that BUT let's look after just for fun? So, I talked about the blue and green aspects of the grocery store scene, it's is also yellow, mostly behind Buck, there are yellow flowers on that bouquet next to Eddie. This one is a real stretch tho, I will admit that lol
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Is this one a stretch? Maybe, less of a stretch than the grocery store tho.
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I like this one, the summer camp scene with this interpretation. And the blue chair, and the building back there.
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This one, I need to add this because of the oven and the light behind Eddie, but I admit, it's a stretch, but everything here is a stretch so lol
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Poker date tho? We're getting closer lol even more when they are getting their winnings and Buck takes the red jacket off.
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Also, the beer, they usually drink the genuine beer, that's yellow, and the coming out scene had a blue labeled beer.
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BUT my question is actually about the will reveal. Because this scene is undoubtedly blue and yellow.
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So, if I'm right, what does this mean for this scene? Because this scene looks like a love confession, sounds like a love confession, AND was talked about as Eddie saying he loves Buck to the core. I have many questions now. But I will accept this so I can stop thinking about it.
Anyway, this is my current theory on the blue and yellow.
As always, if you read this, I love you 💜
78 notes · View notes
dotieeee · 3 days
Text
The Gamemaker's Apprentice
Level 16
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Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader
Overall Warnings:
NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added
Masterlist
Level 16 Warnings:
Non-consensual dom-sub dynamic (belt-flogging), alcoholic consumption, bullying
Replay Level 15
Ready? Level 16 Start:
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You didn’t really want to be here. Not at all, no sir.
You were a big fan of routine. Every day from Monday to Friday, Ms Rosenthal would come by at your home to supervise your studies. You’ve heard her compliment you many times to Uncle Cas about how you’re quite a few levels too advanced for children your age; you’ve been getting perfect scores in all your arithmetic tests; your reading and writing skills are superb.
Two months ago, however, Uncle had decided to take a pause on the routine and mentioned it was perhaps time to try something new: going to school for a day to see how you’d like it. This, you didn't understand. You’ve been doing exceptionally well with your studies, kept your nose clean and everything – so how come Uncle had to disrupt the way things were just because your psychologist told him to?
“Nellie is just eight and she needs to spend time with people her age, Mr Innis. She may be intellectually gifted, but besides her tutoring sessions, you may want to see her enrolled in any of our elementary schools and be around with other kids to prevent emotionally stunted growth.”
According to your research, the psychologist just called you aloof and immature.
But Uncle Cas pleaded that you give this day a chance. Just this first day of school, and he said if you didn’t like it, he wouldn’t pressure you to stay.
So far, except for odd stares from the other kids on the playground, you’d been left alone on a stone bench reading a book you had brought for comfort.
Algebra I For Beginners.
You wanted to be like your uncle working with computers one day, and he said if you wanted a leg-up, Algebra was the way to start. You took out a notebook and a pencil, intending to begin with an equation on page thirty-one, when you spotted several kids convening around the base of one of the slides, whispering among themselves. One of them, the blonde girl with pigtails in the middle, pointed to someone on the swing – a boy with thick brown curls and downcast brown eyes – followed by everyone else’s laughter. Anyone from a distance like yours could easily see that they were making fun of him for whatever reason – all of them except the tall boy with blond wavy locks and bright blue eyes, who ignored both the laughter and the boy on the swing, merely hanging back to observe. There was something a tad snobbish in his facial expression, but you couldn’t really tell. Maybe that’s just how he usually looked. You’d later discover how correct your initial assumption would be.
One of the kids, you didn’t see who, pelted the boy with brown curls with a pebble, but it hit the sand near him, loud enough to attract his attention.
From across the short distance you heard one of them say, “Hey, is it true they eat babies in the districts?”
Everyone, save the blond boy, burst into raucous laughter and went on to call him names you’ve only heard on television before, which made you frown a bit.
The boy was clearly minding his own business. Why would they bother him at all by calling him needlessly cruel names?
You abandoned your book and your bag and approached them.
“Excuse me,” you politely interjected. “What did he do?”
The girl with pigtails in the middle said, “Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter,” you said.
They whispered among themselves, which you only caught glimpses of.
“You think she’s District too?”
“She doesn’t sound like it…”
“I haven’t seen her before…”
One of them quipped, “He’s District. Are you?”
“That shouldn’t matter, either. Everyone should be treated fairly.”
“You know what my father calls your type? A rebel s-sin..synthesiser,” a brown-haired girl said with contempt.
“I think the correct word would be ‘sympathiser,’” you replied with a tilt of your head, which earned an eye roll from the girl.
“Whatever, freak,” she said snootily. “Ugh, I’m leaving, this isn’t fun anymore.”
Everyone in the group groaned but they dispersed. The blond boy, however, stared at you with mild interest, which he tried to hide using a blank expression. You ignored him in favour of talking to the brown-haired boy – he could’ve stopped his ‘friends’ from calling him terrible names, but instead, he just stood back and did nothing.
“Don’t mind them,” you gave him what you thought was a friendly smile. “They’re all just huge shitbags.”
Both the boys seemed taken aback by your language. Your uncle always had to tell you not to say things like that, but you hear him use that kind of language all the time, especially in the kitchen. “My name is Prunella Innis. You can call me Nellie.”
You held out your hand to the brown-eyed boy, which he shook tentatively.
The blond boy confidently strode over to you and took out his palm. “Coriolanus. Coriolanus Snow.”
“Hi,” you flashed him the same smile and shook his hand lightly. You then turned to the other boy, who got out of his perch on the swing and introduced himself, sniffling.
“My name’s Sejanus Plinth.”
“I know,” Coriolanus said matter-of-factly. “I heard your family just moved to the Capitol.”
The boy named Sejanus nodded, but there was something sad behind his eyes. To try and make him feel better, you said, “Sejanus, huh? Mine did about two years ago.”
Both the boys gave you surprised looks; you shrugged it off and said, “So what? It certainly didn’t do my parents any favours.”
Sejanus actually cracked a smile, but Coriolanus’s real expression remained masked behind what you could tell was a fake smile.
A word you recently learned, ‘elitist,’ crossed your mind. You’d discover much later that assumption too, would be correct.
“You’ve been here since the middle of the war? I haven’t seen you in school before,” the curious blond asked.
“I’m homeschooled.” And if you had anything to say about it, you liked it better that way.
Sejanus bashfully showed a tiny brown bag. You peered inside and saw gumdrops. Your uncle didn’t hoard gumdrops as much as he did with chocolates, so you suspected that he didn’t like them very much. You took one, saying ‘thank you’, and Coriolanus took some after you.
“Am I going to see you around?” Sejanus asked you, looking somewhat hopeful.
Your smile faltered a little. “Probably not.”
Sejanus’s brows drew together. “Why not?”
“My uncle says I don’t have to stay if I don’t like it. And I’ve decided that I don’t.”
“So you’re going to keep studying…at home?” Coriolanus wondered with a tone that sounded like it was a foreign concept to him.
“Yes.”
You smiled at them both and went back to your bench to pick up where you left off in the book. Your uncle emerged not much later from the building with an expectant look on his face. That look immediately morphed into exasperation once he saw you begin packing your bag.
“Let me guess: the place didn’t even stand a chance.”
Nodding, you added, “The kids here are hostile; therefore I think the environment may be cutthroat.”
Your Uncle Cas sighed to himself and commented under his breath, “You know, sometimes I think your vocabulary is a punishment for my past actions…”
Ignoring this, you glanced up at your uncle with an innocent grin and asked, “So, do we get ice cream after?”
“A big, whopping ‘no.’ Not a damn chance.”
Uncle Cas only laughed at the pout on your face, but you glanced back at the boys named Sejanus and Coriolanus, nodding farewell to them both. The corner of Coriolanus’s mouth twitched upwards and Sejanus gave you a small wave. Your gaze lingered just a little on Sejanus’s warm brown eyes.
You would see both of them again in a few years’ time, but that little girl walking away from the schoolyard didn’t yet know that the boys would remain a permanent fixture in her life: one of them, taking her heart with him to his grave, and the other, forcibly twining with and shaping her entire future for the worse.
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Nine fifty-eight on a Friday night is quite a busy time for Club She Said. The girls-only membership club is already packed with well-dressed rich Capitol women with pretty drinks in their hands, chattering about and giggling among themselves. The company whom you invited seems to have arrived surprisingly earlier than you have and is sitting at the bar seemingly engaged in a lively conversation with the lady bartender.
“You’re early,” you comment as you take the seat beside her.
“It’s called ‘growth. You should try it sometime, it wouldn’t hurt,” Livia Cardew jabs at you as she sips her drink.
Your maid of honour, casually dissing you. You roll your eyes in mild amusement as she orders a drink called The Dark Lady on your behalf – a blackberry-lemon smash – and say, “This is a nice place. It feels cosy and...safe.”
Your eyes dart around the club, spotting nothing but female staff – waitresses, DJs, bouncers – plus the numerous cliques who seem to be having a blast catching up with their girlfriends over drinks without the presence of their male partners. You’re thankful Livia chose this place on your behalf – even with your fiancé’s money and influence, this is a place he’ll never be allowed to enter.
Livia grinned smugly at your compliment. “Well, with your ridiculous time limit, I figured we both deserve to spend it wisely and without your boyfriend breathing down your neck.” She gives you a dead-eyed look and adds, “Honestly, he’s the only man I know who gives his girl just a measly one hour and thirty minutes to be out and about on a Friday night. So, unless he’s horny and he wants to fuck all the time, he’s just being an ass.”
This, you can’t agree more.
The lady bartender arrives with your drink, elegantly presented in a tall, slender glass, garnished with fresh blackberries and a lemon wedge. You thank her and turn to Livia to reply, “What can I say, I hit the jackpot. Oh my, this is amazing.” You had just taken a sip of the drink, which is by far the best you’ve ever had, to which the bartender beams in thanks.
Livia lets out screech of excitement. “Wait till you try Better Than Sex...”
She then proceeds to explain the drink’s etymology in great detail – a drink made of coffee liqueur, chocolate liqueur, full-cream milk and cherry grenadine, garnished with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. She goes on from She Said’s cocktails to showing you photos of bridesmaids’ gowns which she fishes out of her purse.
“I think this one fits your theme best,” she says as she points to a photo. “Besides, I look fucking fabulous in that colour and cut.”
Then she starts pointing out to you who’s sleeping with whom in the club, right before she jumps into the topic of arranging your bachelorette party.
“What? Absolutely not,” you say. Images of you passed out, drunk, and being hauled home by a displeased Coriolanus cross your mind. You shiver inwardly in horror at the idea.
“And why not?” she retorts, clearly outraged. “How could you fucking pass on your own hen party? That’s like, the hen’s only chance to have a bit of fun before the cock locks her in a cage and throws away the key. Pun totally intended.”
She takes a long swig of her drink and holds out a pointer finger for emphasis. “Read: by ‘fun,’ I meant strippers.”
With your eyebrows raised, you shake your head and respond, “Try mentioning that when he’s around and see if you get more than the icy stare.”
“Oh, boo-hoo. He used to hire escorts all the time. Honestly, he’s such a hypocrite.”
It takes you quite a bit of convincing for her to finally drop it and relent.
“Ugh, fine. Forgive me for trying to take my role seriously,” she sighs as she rolls her eyes dramatically and curls her lips in mock disapproval. “Don’t blame me down the line if you start feeling unfulfilled for not trying out other dicks for size.”
The lady bartender brings another round of cocktails for two, and you both clink your glasses together before sipping. This is the most alcohol you’ve consumed not just in one night, but also your entire life. You haven’t even gone through your second glass halfway and you’re already feeling the proverbial buzz.
“Okay, Innis. Spill. I know you didn’t invite me out for drinks just to shut down my hen party-hosting skills. Plus, we’ll get to meet at that cake-tasting thing tomorrow anyway. What is this about, for real?” Livia, ever the sharp one, rests her chin on the back of her hand and stares at you inquisitively.
You meet her gaze nonchalantly and reply, “Nothing. I was just bored. Can’t wait to try the cakes out.”
There is truth to that, somehow, because aside from the wedding preparations, college classes, and Coriolanus dragging you along to these events he’s always invited to, he still hasn’t allowed you to freely roam the city, perhaps fearing you’d attempt to contact your uncle and make a run for it again.
Livia squints her eyes at you while inching closer and not breaking eye contact. “You’re a good liar,” she concludes, leaning back into her seat and nodding in approval. “I like it.”
She gestures to the bartender for another round of drinks – your eyes widen when you realise she just ordered shots – and says with a mischievous grin as they arrive, “Luckily for me, I have methods of extracting valuable information – methods, mind you, that have, so far, yielded me with satisfactory results.”
You shake your head in mirth, accepting the drink from her. She raises her glass as if taking you on a challenge.
“Mark my word: you are going to fold, Innis.”
“Bite me, Cardew.”
Both of you burst into fits of laughter and throw your heads back in unison as you empty the shot glass. Two more of those and eventually you tap out of the drinking spree, earning the scathing comment ‘lightweight’ from your drinking buddy, who isn’t too far from your level of tipsiness despite what she brags about. You decide to order a basket of bacon-jalapeño poppers to nibble on, and you manage to get through half the basket before Livia takes it away and places it behind her, well beyond your reach.
“Easy on the grease, will you please?”
You pout. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”
She just replies with a frown, “Watch your figure. Tigris won’t like it if she makes adjustments to your dress at the last minute.”
You finish off the piece you’re holding with a single bite and lean on the bar with a slumped posture.
“Or not. You know, maybe if you let yourself go, your boyfriend might just – ”
“It’s Sejanus’s second death anniversary tomorrow.”
A pause passes between you two, with Livia staring at you as if she doesn’t know how to react or what to say to what you just blurted without warning.
“‘District boy?’” When you shoot her a half-hearted glare, she corrects herself, her tone a little more mellow, “Sorry, force of habit. And not to be a bitch, but why do you care?”
Why, indeed? The first year, you had no trouble going through, but the second somehow seems like another empty hole in your heart, slowly growing and gnawing away at the rest of it. Like all the aches you experienced just a few months after his death has come back in full force.
“Shit.”
Livia’s curse is followed by a slump in her posture as she leans on the bar and processes the information. “So, you really love him.”
“I do. Or did. I don’t know anymore.”
She motions for two glasses of water which arrives instantly. You’re only too happy for something without any trace of booze in it and drink the entire glass in one go.
“So, you called me here,” your drinking buddy says carefully, “Because you don’t know what to do and you can’t really talk to your boyfriend about it because he’d get jealous.”
Once again, she’s spot-on. Except she missed the part where you suspect that your boyfriend might’ve also killed him. You give her just a single look and she instantly confirms her hypothesis.
“He won’t get jealous; he’ll just shut me down.”
“That’s the same thing.” She sighs audibly and stares at you sombrely.
“You’re a sucker for self-punishment, you know that?”
You merely shrug in response.
“I’m not invalidating your feelings and shit, but this isn’t helping you at all in this Snow-situation.” Livia empties the last remaining shot glass. “I know you miss him, okay? It’s pretty clear. But that’s not going to bring him back. Just because your first love is gone and you’re stuck with your sociopathic fiancé doesn’t mean you have to be miserable.”
Livia gives you a look that can only mean ‘get your shit together’ and orders one more set of cocktails. When they arrive, she takes one for herself and hands you the other.
“But that also doesn’t mean we can’t toast to his memory.”
You take the glass and raise it. “To Sejanus Plinth.”
She copies your movement, muttering, “To your District Lover Boy, Sejanus Plinth.”
You both empty your glasses at the same time and you almost slam the glass back on the table. Never in a lifetime did you ever think toasting to your dead friend over a fruity-boozy drink could feel so cathartic, but here you are.
“There. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, get your shit together, Innis. You’re smarter than that.”
Despite her harsh reprimand, you find yourself chuckling, to which she just rolls her eyes, smirking exasperatedly.
“You know, he gives me so much grief for asking you to be my maid of honour.”
Livia lets out a shriek of glee. “I’d pay a fortune to have seen his reaction when you told him.”
“Oh, he was beyond m-miffed.” Your words are beginning to slur, indicating you probably had way too much of your capacity. “I was jus’ wondering why you accepted. Curious, ‘is’all.”
“If you’re asking if I’m over’im – ” her own garbled words are interrupted by her loud burp, which startles the waitress passing by – “Yes, I am. I’m over him, swear. But if I can get laid while I’m at it, why the fuck not, right?”
Guffawing, she adds, “Jus’ wanna see him suffer. ‘Magine the guy losing you? He’d spiral the fuck down. Honessly, I tried, m’kay? All this wedding prep – I already bumped into him sooo many times, made a loooot of passes, but no-ooo, he only has eyes for you.”
Side-eying you in jest, she adds, “No accounting for taste.”
You giggle. You actually giggle along with her as she shoves your arm playfully. Then, both of you share a look and dart like lightning to the washroom, throwing up in separate cubicles in unison. Having let some of that out, you begin feeling just a tad better even if the buzz still lingers.
You’re on the sink washing your hands when you notice the time on your watch.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I have to go.” According to the time, you’ve gone thirty minutes over your fiancé’s time limit.
Livia lets out a groan as she emerges from her stall. “Yeah, me too. I’m so hammered. I already paid, you get the next one. And you better not pull a District and go cheap on me, Innis.”
“Trust me, Cardew. When I pay, you can go drown in it for all I care.”
She snorts in laughter on the way outside the She Said Club, where she says her driver is waiting in the parking lot.
“Look sharp, Innis. Your executioner has arrived,” she mutters so only you can hear.
True enough, you look into the icy blue glare of Coriolanus Snow, leaning against the service car door, the stone-cold smile on his face concealing his ire.
“Did you have fun, sugarplum?” he says as he approaches.
From behind you, Livia fakes a retching noise.
You, however, are rooted to your spot as you try your best to appear sober.
“Livia, pardon me, but I have to take my fiancée home.” Coriolanus’s falsely cheery tone is disarming, as usual.
“You heard him. To the gallows, you go.” Livia pats you on the back and mumbles a ‘good luck’ under her breath before addressing the male. “See you both tomorrow. Try not to tire her out too much tonight, will you, Coriolanus? She can’t miss this; you know how she lo-oooves cakes. Loves them.”
Inwardly, you groan the way she just tries to rile him up, but he seems to keep a level head as always. In fact, he goes on to give her a wider grin.
“You shouldn’t concern yourself too much with what my fiancée and I do behind closed doors, Livia, and I am well aware how important this is for her.”
Livia just blows a loud raspberry in his direction before getting inside her car and driving off. A firm, large hand immediately grips your arm and the now stern voice of your fiancé chills your blood.
“Come, Nellie. We will talk when we get home.”
And you all but get shoved into the car before it drives you both home, where you suspect he might just pop off.
To the gallows, you go, alright.
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Coriolanus Snow had never thought he’d see you again, but here you were, in the same year as him and in his class, sitting just a few seats before him to his right, listening aptly to Professor Cecil drone on about a linear equation on the board that he was well aware you’d be able to solve blindfolded and with hands tied behind your back.
You had left an impression on him when he met you in that playground all those years ago. Even if he remembered you using such colourful language unbecoming of a girl, there had already been something behind your eyes and in the way you spoke that he couldn’t pinpoint then.
He'd later discover the correct adjective: erudite.
Everything about you perplexed him to no end: your perfectly natural Capitol accent, your exemplary manners, your sharp wit, your gifted mind…
Your District origins.
Coriolanus had never thought someone of your calibre could emerge from such a place, yet here you were: an enigma he didn’t know what to feel about.
Festus elbowed him discreetly, distracting him from his thoughts and passing a crudely written note.
u crushing on district-homeschool freak?
Festus sniggered behind a closed fist to avoid drawing attention to himself. Coriolanus grinned imperceptibly and wrote down below the scribble a tasteful reply before handing it back to him:
Fuck off, kindly
The note comes back with more of Festus Creed’s infamous chicken-scratch handwriting:
really pretty though. too bad she’s district.
Coriolanus crumpled the note and tossed it in his bag and went back to staring at the back of your head.
Now, Festus’s former observation he could firmly attest to. You were undeniably easy on the eyes and considered one of the prettiest in his class. Over the next few weeks, he would find out that even the boys in the upper class agreed, with the way they would throw stares at you when you walk by them in the hallways. Unfortunately, he can’t confirm the part about you being District; you weren’t really forthcoming about your personal life to anyone yet. He’s heard of rumours circulating about you being born to a former Capitol actress, though, so the thought that maybe you’re not even District. Maybe someone else spread the idea of your District roots out of jealousy, and maybe you hinting at them when he first met you was just a way to make the real District rat feel good about himself.
Because if you were indeed not of Capitol origins, then that meant the Districts had the capacity to produce more children like you, which they could one day weaponise to try and overthrow the government once more. An army of district kids like you, putting the ones like Arachne, for instance, from the Capitol to shame…
Coriolanus shuddered at the thought.
He’d later discover another aspect of you: that underneath your well-mannered demeanour, you hid what he can only describe as intellectual savagery.
It was lunch break sometime in the first semester. You were alone at a table as usual, declining the nicer girls’ offer of sitting with them at their table.
Coriolanus sat with Festus Creed, Sejanus Plinth, and some of his other male classmates were sitting just a few tables away when Arachne Crane, for whatever reason, had just decided to cause a scene in her usual fashion, backed up by Juno and her other lackeys. The group seemed to have come from the Talent Show rehearsal and approached your table looking just about as menacing as a pack of squirrels ganging up on a rattlesnake.
“Hey, district-homeschool freak,” he heard Arachne call out, as she leaned on your table.
Coriolanus saw a hint of danger flash in your eyes before you stood with grace and an uncannily calm air.
“Oh, so she thinks she’s so tough, huh?” one of the girls quipped behind their leader, but he didn’t see who it was.
“Not at all. I’m just supposed to stand when somebody’s addressing me,” even your tone came off as non-confrontational. “It’s called courtesy, you might’ve heard of it.”
Arachne sneered. “Is that what they teach you at home? What else did they teach you, how to fold your laundry? How to be more submissive to your future husband?” The group laughed with her in a jeering manner.
Plastering a cold smile, you responded, “On the contrary, Arachne, they teach me Algebra II. We’re currently on the radian measure which you wouldn’t know because you’re not on that level yet. I could ask you what they teach you here, but judging by the way you talk, I’d say not that much. In fact, I fear for the state of the Capitol Academe.”
Arachne’s eyes narrowed at the insult. “Just because you have money for tutors doesn’t mean you’re smart.”
“True,” you said. “Money can’t buy intellect.”
“Well, it can’t buy class, either,” Arachne countered a little more loudly.
“I know. I can tell,” you said, clearly unfazed by her increasingly hostile behaviour. “Because you clearly have neither of the two. Are we finished?” You took a quiet, demure sip from your juice pack, before continuing, “Because this is boring me. That’s great Talent Show material, by the way: boring people to death.”
Arachne hid her hurt by scoffing, muttering, “Come on, this is pathetic.”
As they left you alone, you sat back down with the grace of a princess and continued your lunch like nothing happened. Festus kicked him under the table, grinning obnoxiously, and said, “What’s the matter, Snow? Scared that she’ll bite?”
Coriolanus curled his lips in a challenge and kicked him back, while the rest of the table chuckled, still in disbelief at what they just witnessed. He could’ve sworn it was this very moment that made you earn his classmates’ respect, even if you eventually revealed your underlying intolerance for blood and gore during a Hunger Games rerun in History class.
With his eyes glued on you across the mess hall, he couldn’t deny that the way you maintained your cool while hurling witty insults was a form of art you seemed to have mastered.
Later on, he would have his first proper conversation with you in an empty classroom when he arrived earlier than he had planned for a math period. You had been there earlier than he was, your razor-sharp focus on a fourth-year pre-calculus problem written on the board, your arms crossed in full-concentration mode. He watched you take a piece of chalk and attempt to correct what seemed like a solution written by a student.
It took him ten seconds. Ten seconds before he could stop himself and break the silence.
“What made you change your mind about attending school?” Coriolanus asked.
“Hello to you, too,” you turned to face him with a smile momentarily before shifting back your attention to the problem on the board. “Psychologist’s orders. She said I needed to spend time with people my age.”
As if he wasn’t already curious about you – or at least, matters concerning you – you had to add this to the mix.
“Why are you in freshman year?”
“As opposed to what, being locked up in an insane asylum? They have pretty rigorous qualifications that I haven’t met yet.”
It was this moment that he decided he liked your humour immensely. Coriolanus let out a genuine laugh, and you turned to grin at him before you writing a few more lines and returned the piece of chalk to the side of the board.
“No, I meant, why aren’t you in a higher year?” He clarified. “That’s clearly senior-level material.”
“It’s just math,” you shrugged. “Outside that, I’m just like everyone else.”
“I highly doubt that,” a voice said.
You both turned to the voice at the same time to find Sejanus Plinth standing at the classroom doorway.
Ah yes. The District rat.
Now, Coriolanus could confirm that he was, beyond a reasonable doubt, full-blooded, cloddish-accented, one hundred-percent District. The blond quickly masked the sneer of disdain forming on his face with his usual grin as a greeting. He spared you a glance and you both catch each other’s eye. He had thought for a moment that he’d seen a flash of recognition behind them – had you caught that scornful look he had for the District rat? But before he could even confirm, you were already smiling warmly at the other boy – that other boy who was leagues below who you deserved (even if you were part District). That boy with a bag of gumdrops you both briefly interacted with about six years ago who needed you to come to rescue him from almost being ganged up by a bunch of other children.
Sejanus Plinth, who would later grow closer to you and thus would divulge to his best friend the tragic events that would explain your need for a psychologist. Sejanus, who’d later reveal to him that he’s developed a crush on you. Private Plinth, who’d be too chickenshit to tell you until before he left for District 12 and ultimately stayed there.
The teenage Coriolanus might not have been aware then, but the two would have profound, lasting influences in his life: the girl, he’d fall madly in love with and force into marriage, and the boy, very much dead yet he’d still be competing with for her love.
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Behind you, you hear the apartment door slamming close and you almost jump at the noise.
You sit on the loveseat in the living room, where Oscar the cat greets you with a head bump on your leg. Before you can pet him, however, Coriolanus picks him up gently and exits, presumably to put him back inside his playroom. He soon returns, pausing on the other side of the coffee table and staring down at you with an utmost displeased expression. Nowhere near comparable as when he found you crouching inside a wooden crate in the middle of a botched escape attempt, but it’s still significant.
“Explain why you went over thirty minutes beyond what you were allowed to spend outside.”
With his hands inside his pockets, he draws to his full height and glares at you icily while he waits for you to speak up and defend yourself. You rub your face with your palms to appear more sober than you really are, but so far, the buzz is still there like an annoying fly you can’t swat off.
“How much did she make you drink?” He asks, crossing his arms in his growing impatience.
“Wha-no, she din’ make me do anything.”
Great. Because slurring your words when you’re being interrogated by a former peacekeeper leads to excellent results. Still, you can’t help but frown at the way he makes it sound like Livia forced you into it.
“Fine. How much did you drink?”
“Much.” Dammit. “I mean, plenty.”
Coriolanus pinches his nose bridge and exhales audibly. “You know you’re not a heavy drinker. You shouldn’t have allowed her to goad you into this. How could you be so irresponsible?”
“Stop talking to me like ’mma child,” you bite back and cross your arms. Inebriated or not, you will not be reduced to an invalid without an agency of your own. “I can think for myself.”
Letting out an aggravated sigh, he gives you a condescending glower. “This is exactly why I told you not to pick her. She is not a good influence on you, Nellie.”
You blink once or twice to process what he just said. You get to your feet, finally realising why he’s so upset with such a simple thing as you drinking out like a normal young adult on a Friday night.
“No, you don’t like her because I’m actually having fun with her. There’s a difference,” you conclude softly. The idea is so absurd, it sobers you up a little. “Remember when you said, I needed to reconnect with old friends or some shit? This is me doing that.”
“This is not about you making friends,” he admonishes in the same patronizing manner. “This is about who you chose as your maid of honour.”
You choose to stand your ground and glare at him. “I made it clear I’m not changing.”
“And I made it clear that I do not approve of your choice,” he says roughly. “Get her off the list and call Clemmie or Lys.”
“Or just call off this fucking wedding, how about that?”
As you harden your expression, he, in turn, gives you a look that you are aware does not bode well for you.
“I don’t like your language, Nellie.”
At this moment, you find yourself agreeing with Livia.
Who cares what he thinks?
“It’s my wedding too, okay?” you snap. You exit the living room quickly, intending to just get the argument over with and lock yourself in your room where he can leave you alone. Unfortunately, he follows you at once. “I can choose whoever I want in my own damn entourage. It’s the only thing in this...this charade that I get choice in and you’re not going to take that from me.”
Coriolanus catches up on you and grabs your arm, which you yank back without much force. “Do not talk to me that way – ”
“She’s the first real friend I’ve ever made since Seja – ”
But there’s something within you that catches you mid-speech. the temperature in the living room seems to drop several degrees, which matches the tone he uses.
“Carefully choose what you say next.”
So, you’re really not even allowed to talk about him as a friend, now. It almost physically pains you that even the man he once considered to be his best friend now refuses to even speak of him.
“Coryo, it’s his second death an – ”
“I know what fucking day it is,” he draws close and hisses in your face. “And you don’t get to use that tone on me. You don’t get to endanger yourself this way and step out of line.”
After his menacing tirade, Coriolanus pulls away. In a second, his fury instantly dissipates, replaced by a blank, even serene expression.
The calm before the storm.
“I can’t have my future wife misbehaving like this,” he says with a tone enough to chill your blood. He then closes the space between you two in a calculated manner, stopping merely inches away from you to stare down at you. “I should be nipping this in the bud.”
Your vision spins next, and you wonder for a second if the alcohol you consumed finally has gotten the better of you – until you notice an almost painful grip around your thighs: your fiancé had just hauled you off the floor and placed you over his shoulders. Before you can protest, you’re dumped unceremoniously into a soft surface. Disoriented, you make a feeble attempt to get off the surface, but you’re harshly flipped over on your stomach, unable to lift yourself off owing to being pinned down by something you can’t shake off.
You’re filled with dread the instant your mind processes what just happened: Coriolanus had just carried you to his room and is keeping you in place on his bed with his entire body draped on your back.
It's the alcohol you’d have to thank for your delayed response time.
Desperately, you claw at the pillow, as if it’ll help you out from underneath him, but you freeze when you feel his breath fan your ear with a whisper that sends shivers down your spine:
“I want you to count to from ten when I say so, sugarplum.”
You feel him pull back, the bed shifting slightly. It takes the rustling of a belt behind you to send you into hysterics; the feel of the cold, night air on your ass as your dress is lifted, revealing you in just your underwear, is enough to make you beg.
“Coryo, please, no – ”
Your words die in your throat as a sharp, white-hot pain lands on the swell of your ass, almost at the same time you hear a loud crack.
He's just hit your almost bare backside with the softer side of his leather belt, and it fucking burns to high hell.
You’re still reeling at the shock of it, but your hair is bunched and pulled, not enough to hurt but to gain your attention.
“Start counting,” he commands from behind you.
Ten. That means ten lashes of his belt. Nine more of this and you can barely handle one.
You sob out of fear, but you don’t know if it’s out of fear of pain or of him.
“Please, I won’t do it again – ”
A pained yelp escapes you the moment the belt lands on your ass again. Another hair pull, followed by his stern voice from behind you.
“Nellie, you’re prolonging this by not counting as I said. Now, I will not ask again: count to ten.”
Go to hell.
You don’t know what compels you to – perhaps it’s the thought of you being unable to sit for the next few days on any surface without wincing in pain – you inhale sharply, swallowing back the insult you’re planning to hurl, and whisper:
“Ten.”
Another cracking of the belt, followed by your cry as it hits you, followed by you shakily whispering a number. He repeats this without mercy and without reprieve – just pure malice and the intent of inflicting pain.
Sniffling, you manage to stammer “f-five,” bracing yourself for another, but it doesn’t come.
You lay flat on your stomach as you weep audibly in your helplessness and shame, belatedly realising he’s removed himself from you and has gone off fuck-knows-where. Just as you’re about to try and get up, he makes a re-entrance, having come from the bathroom. He’s completely shirtless now, eyes locked in and heading straight towards you.
You begin sobbing anew and try to crawl off the bed, but he’s instantly on you, pinning you down as he straddles your thighs with his own, taking your wrists and pinning them above you with a single hand.
“No, please…”
Directly over your ear, he whispers gently, “Sshh, shh, it’s over, sugarplum, I’m here to take care of you now.”
Despite your rather pathetic sobs, he continues cooing over your ear, while you feel something wet and cold being rubbed gently on your ass where the belt had hit you multiple times.
“It’s just a salve, my little sugarplum,” he explains. “It’ll help heal the skin faster and reduce bruising.”
The salve helps like he says, thank goodness, because after he’s massaged the area, it had numbed almost entirely – too bad it does absolutely nothing with the trembling on your hands. For the next few minutes, your fiancé strokes your hair, kisses your crown, and whispers what he thinks are comforting words, all of them a blur to you as you continue lying down on your stomach, unmoving and still trying to wrap your head around what just happened.
“You made me do that, my sugarplum,” he says, and you’re almost tempted to believe how contrite his voice is. “I will never hurt the love of my life – as long as you give me no reason to.”
You’re barely paying attention when he starts peeling off your dress entirely, even when he jerks himself off above you and spills himself on your bare back, even when he cleans you up and wraps you almost lovingly in his blanket and pulls you close to him in a cuddle you’re all-too-familiar with.
What you listen to aptly, however, is what he tells you quietly as he runs his fingers through your hair in this sick form of forced intimacy.
“I will move the wedding to a month and a half from now. Mid-October. In return, you get to keep your maid of honour, and I will lift your uncle’s exile the day before the wedding. That way, he can walk you to the aisle and hand you over to me, just like he should’ve done from the start.”
Just before you let yourself succumb to sleep in his arms, you make a mental note to ask Livia for a crucial favour as this last-ditch attempt to throw a wrench at your fiancé’s plans for the future.
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Sejanus Plinth felt a little guilty as he sat beside you on his bedroom couch. You were hunched over the coffee table poring over three open books at the same time, scribbling madly on a nearly full page of your notebook, essentially doing your part and more in this supposedly partnered effort of writing a ten-page analysis of some pre-Panem fantasy trilogy. It was obvious you had been spending the recent nights getting some work done on the paper based on the way you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned into your palms. He was supposed to have written about three pages now, but he had barely scraped one and a half, and the open notebook he had on his lap was devoid of handwriting.
Yet he still couldn’t quite believe his luck that he had you in his bedroom, the first friend he had ever made since his family’s official move to the Capitol. His friend, the smart, quiet, sassy, pretty girl who had once defended him from one of the many bouts of name-calling by his own classmates and then vanished from his life. He had little hope he’d see you again, but here you both were in your second year, your friendship stronger than ever.
“You know, experts say that staring into paper has been scientifically proven to yield a ten-page book review.”
Your cheeky little comment did not go unnoticed, but Sejanus just flashed you an innocent smile he knew you couldn’t resist. You rolled your eyes at him and proceeded to sigh, before setting your pen down and heavily leaning back on the couch.
“I guess we could take a break,” you admitted as you rubbed your eyes, and grabbed a throw pillow, hugging it to yourself.
“Speak for yourself, I can go all day,” Sejanus joked. “I’ll go get us some food.”
He stood from his couch, but before he exited the door, he looked back at you and grinned, “Nellie, try not to fall asleep before I can come back, yeah? Ma worked hard on those strudels.”
You gave him a sweet, exhausted smile, and said, “Please thank her for me. Not that I won’t be thanking her later before I get home, but still.”
“I’m sure she’d like that,” Sejanus nodded when he finally closed the door behind him.
He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and straightened the collar of his shirt. As if having you alone in his room – albeit for completing the essay together – had him feeling nervous enough before you even arrived, his Ma just had to gush over you just as soon as you crossed the threshold.
Of course, he’d revealed to them how he met you all those years ago, carefully omitting a few details, but when he told her last week he’d have you over to visit, she had wildly assumed you to be his girlfriend, which you weren’t. Something he had always been so adamant with her about. Besides, he knew he had zero chances on you, as gifted and as talented and as attractive as you are.
Sometimes, he’d find himself wishing that weren’t the case.
It wasn’t your looks or your brains that had him developing some sort of…feelings for you. You were a breath of fresh air in the Capitol for him, starkly different from the other girls in the school who were either vapid, vain, or arrogant, or all those three at once.
“So? How is it with you and your…friend so far?”
He hadn’t even crossed the doorway to the kitchen and his Ma was already on his case. He loved her with all his heart, and he was extremely grateful for her hard work, but she could scare you away even before he had made a move.
He met his mother’s expectant smile with a tired grin and replied, “It’s going great, Ma.”
His mother beamed at him – he didn’t have the heart to take this little joy away from her when she was so excited – and told him a maid would carry the tray of food upstairs for him instead and shooed him away from her kitchen.
“She’s really pretty, by the way,” she added just as he was leaving to go back to his room.
Sejanus found you resting your head on the couch’s armrest, hugging the throw pillow to yourself and in blissful slumber.
He didn’t have the heart to take this little bit of rest away from you, either.
Sighing to himself, he grabbed a fresh velvet blanket and tucked you in it before sitting beside you and observing you. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face and let his fingers linger on your cheek.
You didn’t wake up until about two hours later, and by then, Sejanus had made good progress on the essay since you weren’t distracting him too much. He then spent the rest of the day doing more staring than actual schoolwork, trying to commit this day to his memory, no matter how inconsequential.
Aside from the kiss he would eventually share with you, Sejanus would constantly remember in his last days just how soft your cheek was and just how he could’ve snuck in a quick kiss on them that day if he hadn’t been so faint-hearted.
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Enter Level 17 - soon
Next on Level 17 - Wedding bells toll, Snows going honeymooning on the beach, just filthy filthy smut (fucking finally lmaooo)
Author notes:
Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated! Sorry for the delay as well, the next update will likely take about 2 weeks from now duw to work still being crazyyy. Thank you for your patience!!!
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unrelaxing · 2 days
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I've been a fan of Taylor Swift's music since 2008. I have her CDs (and some cassettes), and while I like some albums better than others, I have never disliked an album. TTPD is the first. I've listened to it twice because sometimes it takes a bit for something to grow on you, and here are my thoughts as to why it isn't for me:
It sounds like one long, incredibly boring song. There's no variety in the album's sound; the melodies are super forgettable and by the time I get to the next song I've already forgotten the one that came before it. The fact that it's 2 hours long highlights all of this even more.
The album is lyrically her weakest. 'Tattooed golden retriever' will haunt me for the rest of my days, but shout-out to 'at dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one / people put wedding rings on' and 'I felt more when we played pretend / than with all the Kens' for sending those Rupi Kaur "every run on sentence can be deep" vibes.
(I will also say when you contextualise the lyrics in terms of her life - if you're a big enough fan - or deep into pop culture - it's even more disappointing. There's a song about resenting her depressed partner for 'all the youth she wasted' on him, believing he sacrificed their relationship 'the the gods of his bluest days' - a very bad faith understanding of clinical depression and what it can do to a person. I know it's hard to be in a relationship with someone who has mental health issues, but man how much harder would it be for someone when their partner only sees them as a burden, and says so in the song about your break-up? Then when people criticise your new boyfriend for his racism and general asshole behaviour you write a song about how 'daddy I love him' and talk about how your fans are pearl clutching. It's just... disappointing.)
People are calling the album "raw" and I agree - but in the "this needed more time in the oven before being served" kind of way.
All in all, the album just feels and sounds ... trite.
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ktaerssoi · 3 days
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hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE
jealously is my middle name
summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.
(678)
kate martin x reader
Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.
By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.
there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."
needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.
"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.
"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.
you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.
she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.
you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.
"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.
"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)
"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."
She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.
"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.
"not jealous my ass."
-
you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)
it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.
okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate
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alwaysalir · 2 days
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Maybe it’s just me bc I’m quick to defend Colin but all I see is so many backhanded comments calling Colin a clown or blind or whatever for not every time he genuinely calls Pen his friend legitimately don’t get the trope like this is a friends to lovers. It’s suppose to be slow. Also why can yall support Pen no matter what but need to complain about every time Colin breathes if he’s not catering to Pen?
Anyway I feel like most people are missing the magic of what they set up for Polin bc the want to rush through everything. We have seen how Colin gravitates towards Pen. We have seen how much he admires her. He checks in on her & thinks she clever & wort spending time with. He thinks all these things while not having romantic interest. Do you not realize how rare it is in the regency era to have a man genuinely care about a friendship with a woman when he’s not trying to get anything from her.
Like all of this is to build up to him understanding why he’s always been drawn to her & the build up just makes it that impactful
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cerise-on-top · 2 days
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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!
now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'
the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)
sorry for the super long ask, lol :')
Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D
Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages
Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.
Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.
Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.
Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.
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AITA for asking my friend to stop saying 'me too' whenever I'm talking about my problems?
My friend is someone I'm relatively close with and I know has anxiety that she struggles with, so I'm not saying she doesn't understand pain or issues. But every time I muster the courage to mention the trust issues that I have because my mom passed away when I was 10 and I just have this permanent fear of losing everyone, she's just like 'I know right, like I literally don't trust anyone. It's like a problem' And then proceeds to spill her guts to me for like an hour. Which is perfectly fine, I'm glad she trusts me, but she also does this whenever I'm talking about how I don't like to talk about my own emotions. Another trauma response honestly, since the last thing my parents needed when I was a kid was my stupid emotions and none of the other 2nd graders wanted hear about my dying mom so I learned not to talk about it. But she just treats it almost as a joke, an offhand remark about how much her life sucks. Like she talks about how she never sleeps and science homework is the worst thing in the world. I don't want to sound like I feel superior, but I feel like our world views are just different. It's rare that things bother me, since I feel like I just understand that there are more important things, and the way she compares her important things to mine just feels unnecessary. And all this really rubs me the wrong way. I find it very hard to be anyone but myself, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I also can't go on just pretending her actions don't bother me and make me clam up even more. So would I be the asshole if I tried to bring up my concerns with her?
(Btw, I only brought up the personal reasons behind my issues to give more context as to why I felt offended she was acting like our situations were one in the same, not to try and get you to pity me or anything. Please don't take that into account. I just know she talks to me about almost everything in her life, and none of it truly seems like it would cause many of the issues she claims to have but never really showcases. She could still have these issues, obviously, but she just really doesn't seem to and never brings it up unless I do first and then cuts me off to mention herself)
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lygma-nygma · 2 days
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Knowing the original reason(s) that Dick became Nightwing and then reading comics like Nightwing: Year One is just so annoying. Like what is the deal with more modern rewrites making everything surrounding Dick and Bruce super edgy and angsty when the original version of the story was perfectly fine?? It’s like DC Comics is on a mission to assassinate both of their characters to make Dick into a ‘sad boy’, it’s infuriating.
Original Pre-Crisis Nightwing Lore: Yeah I'm just kind of getting too old to be Robin. Like it or not Robin is forever and always going to be known as Batman's sidekick and I just don't feel like that fits me anymore. I'm the leader of the Teen Titans and I spend most of my time doing that and solo missions now anyway. I think I'm going to drop the mantle, take a step back, and find a new identity. Original Post-Crisis Nightwing Lore: I got shot and fell off a building during a mission and almost died right in front of Bruce. It shook him up and made him super afraid of me dying so he told me he wasn't going to run with a Robin anymore because he didn't want my death to be his fault. I was annoyed about him treating me like a kid and that he was throwing all the years we worked together away over one incident but he said it wasn't like that, he just hoped I was old enough to understand where he was coming from. I told him that there was no way I wasn't going to continue being a hero and he fully supported me saying that he would always be there to help if I needed it. I was still hurt by it all, especially when Jason showed up, but ultimately I came to understand why it happened and got over it. Edgy Retcon Nightwing Lore: I went out of my way to SAVE him and then I got PUNISHED because I didn't do it right and wasn't prioritizing Gotham enough despite my THIRTEEN THOUSAND JOBS but I'm not surprised because he's always been unreasonable and HATES ME so now I'm not Robin anymore because Batman is an awful person and emotionally abuses me. And just to be clear it's not like Dick and Bruce didn't fight before the retcon, frequently being at each other's throats is literally a core aspect of their relationship, but I'm just so tired of them retconning every interaction they have into some overdramatic spat. Way to completely strip Dick of all his agency as a character and turn Bruce into an empty cardboard cut out of himself. Hope the angst points are worth it.
EDIT: I also want to add that fights between Bruce and Dick used to have a lot more nuance than they do now. The B&D fights used to be caused by a breakdown in communication on BOTH sides, not just Bruce's. The 'Jason becoming Robin' fight comes to mind. In Batman #416 neither Dick's complaints nor Bruce's excuses made complete sense but that was the point. Bruce should have been better at reaching out but Dick was also expecting Bruce to be a mind reader and know how he was feeling without telling him. Dick left home without saying goodbye well Bruce was on a mission, Bruce assumed that meant Dick didn't want to see him and so avoided reaching out leading to the two of them not talking for a long time. Dick accepts that Bruce doesn't want him as Robin anymore in stride (he even smiles and shit about it) so Bruce doesn't realize that losing Robin actually hurt him, ex. It's that kind of fighting, the "I want to slam both your heads together" fighting, that I miss so much.
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five-rivers · 2 days
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timer
@echoghost1 @everfascinated
.
It hovered over the surface of the portal, clearly separate from it.  A large, flat, disk shape, with a pale, luminous face.  More vivid numbers circled the edge, painted neatly.  A single, delicate, metal hand pointed towards the number seven, on the left side of the clock.  It had been pointing there for the past hour or so, ever since it had been noticed.  
Maddie drummed her fingers on the workbench she stood next to.  The timer - because what else could it be? - was, thus far, a mystery to her.  Usually, Maddie liked mysteries.  Exploring the mysteries of the Ghost Zone had been the reason they had built the portal in the first place.  This mystery was fascinating, and Maddie was excited about it, but it was also incredibly troubling.  
Obviously, the timer - hovering, green, immovable - was ghostly in origin.  What else could it be?  But how did a ghost place get in here to place it?  For what purpose?  How much time was left?  What was it counting down to?  It couldn’t be anything good.  Ghosts had no love for her family or their works.  
As soon as she’d noticed it, she and Jack had started taking readings, but nothing they did gave them anything conclusive, or any way to get rid of the thing.  
It was frustrating and troubling.  Frustrating and troubling.  
“Uh, Mom?  Dad?  It’s six and we were wondering if you wanted us to order dinner or anything…”
Maddie looked up to see Danny coming down the stairs.  
“Oh, sure!” said Jack.  “Pizza sounds great, son!”
“Yeah.  What are you even– What’s that?”  
Danny stared wide-eyed at the timer for a long moment, and Maddie moved to reassure him.  Danny was always so timid around ghosts, so afraid.  This timer was doubtlessly malevolent, but she and Jack wouldn’t let it do anything to Danny.  
Briefly, Danny’s eyes gleamed green.  Then, slowly, but inevitably, he collapsed.
Maddie leaped forward, keeping Danny from hitting his head on the bottom step by the narrowest of margins.  “Jack!”  
“What happened?” he asked, hurrying over.  “Danny?  Danny?  Talk to me, son!  Can you hear me?”
Danny’s eyes fluttered open briefly, overly reflective, then shut again.
“I’m setting up the quarantine booth,” said Maddie.  “Will you carry him?”
Jack nodded, grimly.  
They’d gotten the quarantine booth set up after Vlad’s unfortunate recurrence of ecto-acne and the revelation that ecto-acne could be contagious under certain circumstances.  It was sealed, filtered, protected, shielded.  Every precaution they could think of had gone into it. 
… and, yes, they should use those precautions more often, but Maddie and Jack loved getting up close and personal with the subjects of study.  
“We need to get that thing shielded,” said Jack as he set Danny on the bed.  He rushed out towards the timer and started setting up shield projectors around the portal.  
Maddie, meanwhile, pulled the medical scanner free from the ceiling.  Well, ‘medical scanner’ was a very sci-fi way of putting it, when really it was quite prosaic, if you knew how it worked.
She positioned it over Danny’s body and set it to taking data. 
Temperature, low, heart rate, low, bones, intact, nervous system… that part of the scanner didn’t work all that well, ignore that reading…  
Ectoplasm levels were off the charts.  
Maddie inhaled deeply.  Stay calm, stay calm.  They would fix this.  They’d cured Vlad and Danny’s friends, they could cure this, whatever it was.  They would get rid of that timer and they’d save Danny.  
“Mom?” said Danny, weakly.  
“Hey, sweetie,” said Maddie.  “How are you feeling?”  
“Bad,” said Danny.  He tried to sit up, but Maddie pushed him back down.  “What’s happening?”
“You collapsed suddenly,” said Maddie.  “We’re trying to figure out why.”
Danny raised one hand to his face.  Green light reflected off his hand.  Understanding flicked over his features.  
“Okay, but I think I’m feeling better, now,” he said.  He tried to sit up again.  
“We need to figure out what happened before you go running around,” said Maddie, pushing him down again.  She looked over at Jack, through the thick, transparent sides of the quarantine booth.  Jack was now trying to throw a towel over the timer and–
Wait a moment.  
“Stay down,” she told Danny.  “Let the scanner do its job.”  She walked out of the quarantine booth.  “Wait, Jack, wait.”
“But we have to keep it from affecting Danny.  We don’t know if its effect is visual or what.”
“I know, I know,” said Maddie.  “But look at it.  Look at the hand.”
The hand, which had been pointing at the number seven, was now pointing at the number six.  
Jack scowled at the timer and tried to throw the towel over it again.  The towel passed through it.  “Are we sure this is a timer, Mads?  Maybe the numbers are counting down charges or something like that.”
“I don’t know, it still looks more like a timer to me.”
“But why did it affect Danny like that?” 
“I don’t know.  We need to start decontamination procedures right away, though.  His ectoplasm levels are off the charts.  The sudden spike is probably what made him collapse, but I don’t know how this could have increased his ectoplasm levels so much so quickly.”
I don’t know either,” said Jack.  He picked up the latest version of the Fenton Finder (which incidentally, still detected Danny more often than not) and shook it.  “None of the detectors we have pointed at it picked up anything.  Nothing going towards Danny, nothing ambient, nothing anywhere else.”
Maddie had hoped that their detectors had picked something up, but with the continued failures of the Fenton Finder, maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.  
“We’ll keep looking,” said Maddie.  She was forgetting something.  What was she forgetting?  “Jazz.  We need to tell Jazz, so she doesn’t come down here.  What if it only affects minors?”
“Righto,” said Jack, shoving the Finder at Maddie.  “I’ll do that, you start the decontam procedures!”
Maddie nodded tightly and turned back to Danny.  She could see his eyes gleaming from here.But they could fix this. 
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lover-of-mine · 2 days
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Okay, so, time to write the blue and yellow meta: deranged version. Shoutout to @dangerpronebuddie for the thoughts that are helping me in this particular delusion (This is gonna have some copy/paste from the other one just for the context to be all in one post, but stay with me anyway if you read that one already I promise this one has more stuff)
Okay, so I have been going insane trying to figure out what the blue and yellow means.
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And now I have a theory. So for this one, I'm gonna use the fact that they are using the sun on a wall and that they completed the blue and green with Buck and Eddie at the gym scene with the bottle and the towel to assume I am right, and they complete these things with other elements of the scene, wall, decoration, everything.
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Okay, so, when tracking the blue and green thing so I could make this post, I kept wondering why there aren't a lot of Henren examples of it, this season has given us a few more scenes, but I'm pretty sure there are only these 2 before season 7. But like, I didn't think much of it even though I didn't understand why.
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But Anna, I thought this was about the blue and yellow, why you talking about the blue and green? Well, I think the blue and yellow is the blue and green for queer couples. Stay with me, I promise I have enough proof to create a reasonable doubt lol.
Okay, so, the other day I saw a henren edit that had their first date and I already had the yellow behind Eddie in my mind and was like, that's interesting, their first date is blue and yellow.
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Then, someone is making a Karen in every episode series, and I saw a set of her in yellow and was like "wait, I need to stop looking for answers in the straight couples, buddie is a queer couple, I need to see if this is a pattern that has already been established for the other queer couple, do henren have different rules?" and yes, I think they do.
Going back to the blue and green thing for a second, the easiest couple to track the blue and green is madney. Every couple has worn blue and green, but they have been blue and green since their first scene. And while they do wear blue and green for inconsequential scenes, they are in blue and green for things like getting back together in season 6, finding out Jee is a girl, the date after Doug, the hospital after Doug, the whole Boston episode is blue and green in nature, I talk about that in more detail in my blue and green applied to buddie meta if you're interested.
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So, assuming they are establishing the blue and yellow with henren in the same way they do the blue and green with madney, blue and yellow in important henren scenes sounded like a nice bet since the blue and yellow is present on their first date, right? And the same way Boston is inherently blue and green, tomorrow is very blue and yellow.
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But you don't really think I'm telling you I established a pattern with only one episode, right? Using other elements of the scene, considering the way they are using the sun a lot with buddie, I have quite a few examples, going back down to when they accept that the IVF didn't work and that they'll be okay. I also really like the way the club in fomo is lit in blue and yellow. (I'm trying to stay within the image limit so, tiny images, sorry lol)
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But Anna, you are using the wall a lot. Yes, I am using the wall a lot. Why am I using the wall a lot? You know how madney is the guide for the blue and green? Their house is blue and green. Like decorations and stuff. Mostly the kitchen, but still. The detailing there, the pans, the blue chairs, the blue couch. Even Jee's room is greenish and blueish.
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So, henren's house being yellow works, I think. Another point towards that is the way that Buck's bi awakening episode is blue and yellow.
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So, I'm gonna be insane and say the blue and yellow thing is the blue and green thing but queer.
Here's where I'm diverging from the first post I made, why? Well, considering my main point of reference was henren and the earliest conclusive example I could find was in 3x04 when they are talking about the IVF, I didn't look in season 2.
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But thanks to Maggie (💜) I went to look in Buck, Actually. To check Thomas and Mitchell.
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We have the blue and yellow shirt, the blue and yellow lighting, the blue cake with the shirt. They also use the sun in their happy contemplating life moments.
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Unrelated but I love the blue and green thing too much not to point this out and I just noticed it lol they have a lot of blue and green details too, the car, the driveway, the transition from a green cake to a blue cake, I just love that.
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But, since the blue and yellow exists in the couple that is supposed to show Buck what love looks like, I'm gonna go full crazy here with buddie and blue and yellow, because we are starting at Eddie's introduction lol just another nice little day in the they cast Ryan with a plan delusionland.
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Let's move past shirtless Ryan for a sec (yes, I could've used a different screenshot, but why would I lol) the bag above Eddie's head is blue, and there's that yellow thing behind Buck (Hen is also in yellow in this scene and everyone else is in the darker uniform so 👀)
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But this is nothing yet, in terms of crazy. How about the way that Hector's call is blue and yellow? And the blue and yellow lights in the ceiling of the ambulance?
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What if I told you the dialogue here is "Practice rounds have blue caps, gold caps are live."? Are you feeling insane with me yet?
I personally view the "you can have my back any day" as inherently blue and green, but Eddie's side does have that yellowish light in the middle there so, something else to consider.
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But moving on, there's a lot of blue and yellow lighting during the earthquake, but even I will have to admit that's because of emergency lights, so I will keep moving, I am crazy but I also know when to admit that this show likes warm lights and sirens are blue lol
Next up, we have the fountain. And the elf happening right after this, like 👀👀
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I couldn't find any other examples in season 2 tho.
I will admit that my season 3 examples are a really big stretch but, the grocery store, has blue, green, and yellow elements, mostly behind Buck.
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Them making up the station, also has the yellow light element.
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Other cutesy things I wanna point out are the summer camp talk and the cup thing, with the blue chair and the building.
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And I kinda have to add the recovery conversation because of the oven and the light behind Eddie.
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Also, they usually drink the genuine beer, that has a yellow label and the coming out scene has a beer with a blue label.
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Okay, but I skipped a bunch of shit here in the middle. Well, season 5 doesn't have anything that stands out to me all that much. Season 6, has the poker date.
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I'm kinda obsessed with the way that the coming out scene has Buck in blue and the yellow behind Eddie while he's dressed in black and the end of the poker date is the other way around. This one feel more on purpose to me than anything else that I pointed out, since this happens after tomorrow, where we see that in play with henren a lot.
But my question here is, if this is something that has been played with since season 2, what does this mean for buddie and survivors?
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This scene has some blue and yellow elements and it is the lead to the will reveal.
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And, well, the will reveal is undeniably blue and yellow. Their shirts are blue and yellow. And this scene reads as a love confession. It was talked about as Eddie's way of saying he loves Buck to the core. If you add this, and the elements of the shooting and how not platonic the they're in situation is, if any of this is true, then, well, what does it mean for this scene?
I kinda wanna go full conspiracy theory for a second, so bear with me. Buck coming out scene, Buck matches the lighting, everything around him is blue (in contrast to the kiss, where he is in a blue shirt but he has the yellow light behind him), kinda like what's happening with Eddie in the will reveal, but obviously, since Eddie doesn't really match, it's just in the same color palette, we can make an argument about him not being ready yet. Not like Buck is when it comes to his bisexuality now. Especially with the way this scene screams aborted love confession. So, since I'm already using this to fuel my Ryan got cast with a plan madness, I will also use this for my Eddie has been aware since season 4 madness.
This is long and kinda completely deranged but I think there is an actual argument to be made here, at least from season 6 forward, so this is my current theory, let's see how the rest of the season plays out 🫶
As always, if you read this I love you 💜
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