It’s a regrettable choice, but one people need to be able make.
It’s one of the most difficult decisions a person will ever make.
Sure, some people do it for the wrong reasons, but most people do it for the right ones.
*You may feel this way, and that’s fine. But you don’t have to feel this way and you don’t have to pretend to.
Things you should say about abortion:
It’s a safe, legal and quite common procedure.
It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
For some it’s a difficult decision, but not for everybody.
99% of people who get abortions don’t regret it.
There are no right or wrong reasons to get an abortion. It’s a matter of personal choice.
The way to change policy is to change culture, and you change culture by changing the conversation. Abortion isn’t regrettable, it isn’t shameful, it isn’t wrong. Abortion improves lives. It saves lives. It makes people better parents. It gives people bodily autonomy. Abortion is good.
“Only trust yourself.” “Does he normally just lie on the floor like that without moving?” “I was alive when the Dead Sea was just a lake that was feeling a little poorly.” “I have a deep understanding of the human psyche, at least that’s what Freud always said.” “Mad men rarely make sense, mostly they just hate.” “Marriage is a wonderful institution… not that I would know.” “Last chance to save yourself.” “A regrettable choice of words,” “Is he more of a flower or cologne man?” “Pretty boy, get your team ready.” “Right, we should… join the party.” “Move it along, teenagers. The only person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self.” “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, ____.” “For almost a century, I’ve closed myself to feeling anything for anyone.” “You’ve unlocked something in me.” “They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite.” “I need your strength.” “Let me spell it out for you, I wanted to see you again.” “I’m not being cryptic, I’m being coy.” “Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests.” “True love cannot die.” “He hated us enough to kill us all.” “I love a challenge.” “I’m tired of you only wanting me around when you need something.” “You’ve inflicted worse.” “This fight’s far from over.” “To us.” “So if you were planning on teaching yourself the lambada on a greased platform over a pit full of knives, I wouldn’t.” “There’s no turning back.” “Maybe you should start living for yourself, do what’s in your heart.” “Your heart beats faster when they walk by, your skin tingles every time they enter a room…” “The good suffer, the evil flourish, and all that is mortal passes away,” “I know you feel what I feel.” “When things get crazy, don’t push me away.” “You continue to surprise me.” “You should leave him here. I could hang hats on him and things.” “I don’t care how many people you haven’t been with.” “I’m not okay, because you’re not okay.” “But you are different, and it’s a good thing.”
Dear god, I am so so fucking sick of these Steve VS Tony posts, it’s 2017 guys, seriously. I’m sick of all the hate on both damn sides. It’s possible to love and forgive characters, yes, a lot of shit went down in the past few movies, there were regrettable choices and words on BOTH ends here. Everyone gets so caught up in who was goddamn right and who was in the wrong, they were all right and they were all wrong. Everyone was doing what they thought to be best.
Steve had just been screwed over by the whole SHEILD/Hydra shit. He wasn’t ready to be putting the world’s safety in the hands of something that could end up being so corrupt. He was scared for that, so it didn’t help when Zemo started to fuck with things by framing Bucky. That’s what pushed Steve over.
And Tony was trying to work political damage control, he was working towards solutions that would hopefully work out for everyone, and he knew compromises would have to be involved. By the end of the movie, it wasn’t even about the stupid accords, he went to help Steve and Bucky when he knew it wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing for him.
Tony fought at the end because he was mad, and reasonably so, at the beginning of the movie, we were shown that he was working through trauma, and his problems with his parents death. His feelings are still so very fresh, and he’s trying to work through them. When Tony found out that Steve knew, he felt betrayed. Steve didn’t tell him before because he was scared - he didn’t want to lose his friends, his family all over again because of freakin Hydra. And he fought to protect the last bit of his past, his childhood friend.
My biggest point is, have some perspective people - everyone in civil war is a fucking emotional mess, and they all need love and support and the proper help.
Stop this whole Team Cap or Team Iron Man bullshit, it’s 2017. Give them all love, and accept that everyone played their part and made their mistakes.
I can’t say I have the Type 6 distinctly operative within me, but some of the best people I’ve known are this type. I first got to know the type to some extent through my grandmother and then through a couple of good friends that helped me while I was in my teens, dealing with family dysfunction. Later on, my experience with more people of this type was mixed and I studied the Enneagram more. So this is caring for the Type 6, for anyone that would like to promote or - at least - respect their well-being and growth. If you have more input, feel free to add!
What to keep in mind about the type: The Type 6 can be a highly committed person, taking their commitments very seriously (sometimes too seriously). They seek stability and security in some form and will make sure they know well what they’re getting themselves into. They question and test, and their trust may be difficult to earn. They tend to do their best to deliver on their promises and expect the same from others. They lose respect for people they view as lacking integrity and responsibility or who are not as diligent as they could be for the causes they deem important. Generally, they aim to make positive contributions and work hard to make things better from a small to a bigger scale - by assisting a few select people, groups, communities or humanity as a whole.
What they enjoy: - Improving their knowledge and understanding. They are cerebral and technical-minded; they will seek to study and grasp systems, trends, their components and how they interconnect - down to specific details. - Making progress toward their aspirations. They have (or need to have) projects and goals they can invest in, preferably purposeful ones that lead to something significant. - Building solid relationships and feeling safe within them. They may be hard to make friends with, but some of them can be some of the best friends you’ve ever had and won’t settle for a poor definition of friendship. They look for people they can count on and rely on. - Appreciation and positive feedback. While some of them may be adverse to praise and some may instead verge on vanity, in the end, being recognized can be helpful to them for evaluating their actions… if not only satisfactory. - Being or doing epic or legendary things. Although not necessarily the most ambitious people, they can be idealistic and put their hearts and souls into passing on a unforgettable legacy.
What helps them: - Making things clear. They are suspicious and often anxious. Vague and obscure information is not enough. They need to know where things stand and what they’re made of. - Keeping it real and down-to-earth. They can be dreamy and indulge in fantasies, but ultimately, at least a portion of what they visualize must be pursued and manifested in a practical manner, taking the steps necessary to make things come true. - Reciprocating their efforts. What’s fair and just is important to them and they’re usually attuned to this, whether they are able to be accurately discerning or not. They can be very serviceable, and in some cases, this is purely out of principle or generosity and they don’t intend to receive in return. However, there are times when situations must be win-win and exchanges 50/50 (or at least something close to this). What to watch out for: - Skepticism. While often necessary, it might be taken to the point of detriment and turn into pessimism. At its best, it helps analyse and see things for what they are. At its worst, however, it erodes confidence and becomes cowardice. - Devil’s advocate. Arguing for the sake of arguing, unable to choose a side. They may be trying to examine from as many angles as they can, but might also be thrilled by the heat of debates. At times, this costs them and everyone involved much. - Demands and complaints. They might assume deals where there were none to begin with and be adamant about quantity and quality, developing a sense of entitlement while in a position of privilege. Or it might simply be that they’re overextending themselves and don’t feel or are not appropriately rewarded. - High or impossible standards. They might hold themselves and others to high standards. Some of these might be impossible to reach, given the circumstances. And some are not as important as they believe them to be and need not to be imposed. This can leave them and others feeling like they’re never enough. - Focus on actual and potential problems. As troubleshooters, they don’t ignore problems and try to solve, fix or keep them from happening. This makes them defenders and more. Yet, too much focus on problems can cause said problems to grow in size and keep people in misery or stuck within a comfort zone that’s not quite comforting.
What to really be concerned about: - Pedestaling. It’s fine to honor others, especially if they do possess noteworthy qualities. The problematic issues begin when they are set up in an asphyxiating, tall place from which they will inevitably eventually fall and be no more than disappointing. It’s even more problematic if they become harshly competitive and put others down in order to hold to higher regard whom they value most. It’s essential to remember that even people that are the object of adoration can be imperfect humans and not always perform in a manner that merits worship. - Scapegoating. Looking for someone to “lead” them and make all or most of the decisions for them just so that they will have somebody else to blame and not be under the pressure of exercising good judgement and dealing with the consequences. They might be quick to point fingers and deny their own wrongdoings and shortcomings, failing to improve themselves and take control of their destiny. Taking the time to reason this with them might get them to see things differently. - Devoting to false Gods. In desperate attempts to have a savior and protector, they might devote to people and figures that do not truly serve their best interests and stubbornly hold on to them. This might turn into obsession and extremism and lead them into making regrettable choices. They might become dogmatic and fanatic to destructive degrees and rationalize their behavior. While this is a complicated state that’s tricky to awaken from, it’s possible to gradually direct their faith toward more suitable and moderate beliefs.
Why should you bother to care? Whether your relationships with Type 6 people are intimate or not, putting in, at the least, a bit of effort on your part (as much as it’s appropriate) can go a long way in making things better for everyone involved.
Note: These are only a few things to consider when caring for Type 6.
Everything was back to normal now, Valentine was Valentine, Magnus was Magnus, Alec wasn’t extremely confused, but there was some things Valentine wanted to discuss with the two. “You know,” he spoke up, catching the pairs attention, “you put me in an extremely awkward situation, twice, might I add.” His statement was clearly directed at Magnus. “What do you mean?” “Well, I didn’t even know you two were a thing, so when Lightwood wouldn’t stop texting m-you, and even came over at one point I thought-” His sentence was cut off as Alec broke into laughter, Magnus and Valentine giving him a funny look. “Oh my god, you thought-” More laughing, Magnus cleared his throat. “Well, it’s over now so don’t worry about it.” “Don’t worry about it? What if he never figured it out? What if-” “Val, let it go.” Alec stifled his laughter and look between the two, then focusing on Valentine. “You make a terrible Magnus, just saying.” “What? I nailed it!” “First of all, Magnus doesn’t open the door like that, second, the door is never locked, which is actually going to change now, and third you wore the same outfit twice. Check and mate.” “That’s not how that metaphor goes. Well I thought I made an amazing Magnus.” “STOP TALKING ABOUT WHO DID ME BETTER!” There was some silence before Alec decided to say it.
“may i ask you for a scenario of jealous rosé because her girlfriend spend too much time with the other member. A
angsts with a happy/fluffy ending?”
Rose frowned as she stared outside the window. The weather currently matched her mood.
Patches of grey covered the sky. There was no sign of a storm, yet. Speaking in both case that is. Rose’s gaze shifted away from the window to you. Directly behind her was you, Jennie and Lisa practically cuddling together. She sneered as she looked away. From the three. Glancing to her side, she noticed a sleeping Jisoo.
Maybe she was overreacting. There’s nothing wrong with your girlfriend being close with other people. Especially if it’s her friends. Right? She turned back to her window, noticing the clouds had gotten darker. Along with her mood.
It all started that morning. Rose had already been skeptical to the idea of you tagging along with her friends on a trip. It’s not like she didn’t want you there, because she did. It was that she was afraid how they would interact with you. So even though it was them who suggested inviting you, she was hesitant.
Even throughout the car ride to the hotel. Rose made it her mission to keep you especially close. Though her worries disappeared that morning. When the other three burst into your shared room. The piled on to the both of you, effectively waking you up.
And even though Rose wanted to be bothered by the early awakening. She wasn’t because everything seemed to be going great.
It wasn’t until later that she’d become slightly bothered. No one had actually planned on what to do, everyone just wanted to get away. So nobody really knew where to go. Eventually you all decided to just roam the city.
First you stopped at a bakery. Even before you set foot through the door, you could smell the scent of fresh dough. It too everyone ten minutes to just decide what they want and another twenty to actually eat. All while Jennie seemed to be glued to your side. Never giving Rose a chance to speak with you.
Soon after you found yourselves at a theatre. It was fairly empty considering the time of day. It was a regrettable choice to let Lisa choose the movie. By the end of the movie the only one who’d actually been paying attention to it was in fact her. Everyone else was either asleep or on their phone. Though Rose of course had been focused on you and how your head rested on Jisoo’s shoulder.
She only shook her head convincing herself that everything would be fine. She’d eventually have your attention. At least that’s what she thought.
Oh how wrong she was. Throughout the entire day. You never said a word to her. Not even a glance to her. It drove her insane. And more than that it hurt her. Somehow er fear of her friends not liking you turned into the fear of them liking you too much.
Though by that time, even though she though you hadn’t noticed her change of mood. You had. Which is why you’d been quick to deny the girl’s idea of leaving the hotel again until tomorrow. They agreed disappointedly as they made their way back to their room. While you did the same.
When you entered the room it was pitch black. Shaking your head as you blindly searched for the light switch on the wall. Rose came into sight as the light was found, curing your temporary blindness
You could only chuckle at Rose’s ‘sleeping’ position as you made your way over to her. The bed dipped slightly as you laid beside her.
“Chaeyoung I know you’re not asleep.” No movement. You call her again softly. “I know something’s wrong. What is it?”
Finally she shifted, turning her body towards you. “Nothing is wrong I’m just tired.” She says.
Your hand reaches up, tangling your fingers into her hair while your thumb grazed her cheek. “Really? Nothing.?” You ask already knowing she was lying.
She shook her head, avoiding your gaze. Sighing dramatically as you sat upright. “Fine I guess I’ll go talk to the other girls then.”
Just like that you got the answer you were looking for. Not verbally at least. But the way she huffed and mumbled ‘of course’ was enough to prove you right.
Wrapping your arms around her waist as you laid back down this time. You could only smile as you stared at her. “Are you jealous?”
She bit her lip, staring at anything but you.
“You have nothing to be jealous of Chae.”
Finally her eyes lock with yours. “I know that but you guys have just been all over each other,all day, it’s like I wasn’t even there.”
“Chaeyoung I wanted a chance to get to know them.”
“So you had to ignore me?”
“If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything else and in order to get them to like me, I’d have to get to know them.” You say kissing her cheek.
“Y just admitted to not being able to focus when you’re around me.”
You blushed realizing that shs seemed to be in a better mood..You sat up again, this time pulling her up with you. “Aw I want to cuddle some more.” She whined trying to pull you back down.
“No since I didn’t get to go spend anytime with you, I wanna go somewhere, just us.”
She groaned laying back onto the bed.
“I could always just go with Lisa.” You jokingly suggest making her jump to her feet.
So, a brief excerpt from the next chapter of my fic “Give Me Strength”, but it can be read as a small standalone. It was too fun not to share:
Trini will be the first to acknowledge that she’s done some stupid, reckless, morally questionable things in her life, but nothing so terrible as to warrant the horrendous fate that befalls her now. Her brows crinkle, lips twisted in disgust, and as she stares out the window at the passing scenery, she vows to make a change if it means this will be the first, last, and only time she’s subjected to Kimberly Hart’s singing.
“-and I miss you. And I need you. And now I wonder-”
Honestly, she wishes it was because Kim has a terrible voice, because at least then she’d have a valid reason for her misery. As it stands, the girl could sing the dictionary, and albums would still fly off the shelf, her voice in perfect harmony with the music that blares out her car’s stereo. Regrettably, her choice in song has the unwelcome effect of transporting Trini back to the early 2000’s, a time she thankfully has no personal recollection of, but is continuously bombarded with its pop culture by nostalgic twenty-something’s and (evidently) peppy ex-cheerleaders with no real sense of shame.
“-if I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?”
‘Not. fast. enough.’ Trini silently laments, clenching and unclenching her fist to expel the restless energy that’s been building up since the moment she was trapped in this hell hole on four wheels.
“-cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles, if I could just see you tonight…”
Trini would walk a thousand miles straight into the path of an oncoming train if it meant relief from this assault to her ear drums, desperately wishing she hadn’t lent Billy her headphones. He sits in the backseat, a peaceful smile on his lips as he listens to a podcast, oblivious to the torture she’s forced to endure as Kimberly continues to belt out lyrics. Vaguely, she wonders if it would be less painful to simply open the passenger door and roll out onto the interstate; at least with her powers, she knows she’d most likely survive, and that semi a few cars back is looking rather inviting…
Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on which way you look at it – she’s saved from making that decision, the song coming to an end as the last few notes fade out. Sadly, her reprieve is short lived, the next track kicking in as an all too familiar tune blasts through the speakers.
“I threw a wish in a well. Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell-”
The car swerves into the shoulder, narrowly missing the guard rail as Kimberly leans across the center console, one hand on the wheel as the other clutches frantically to Trini’s bicep. Wind rushes in through the open door, her hair billowing as she attempts to throw herself out, held back only by the firm grip to her arm.
“TRINI! WHAT THE FUCK!? GET BACK IN THE CAR!” she screams, eyes shot with panic.
Trini merely goes limp, hoping her dead weight will be enough to break Kim’s hold, and she’ll mercifully go flying into traffic.
“WHAT IS HAPPENING??” Billy cries, tearing off his headphones.
“I DON’T KNOW, BUT-… SHIT, I’M PULLING OVER.”
Five minutes later, they’re back on the road, a content smile on Kimberly’s lips as she hums along to ‘Party in the USA’. Trini sits sullenly, the doors and windows set on child lock, as she stares scathingly at the hand interlocked with her own, their fingers twined to keep her held in place.
But as stubbornly as she refuses to acknowledge it, Trini has to admit that Kim’s hand is the softest thing she’s ever held.
A/N: I’m gonna point out real quick that this fic takes place sometime after weirdmageddon, after everything falls back into place and Stan’s memory returns. I really love stangst/stan twins fluff combinations.
(For another anon!)
Stan tucks himself into bed, the warmth of his electric blanket soothing him immediately.
“Aaah finally, time to rest these achy joints.” He mutters to himself.
The old man is ready to pass out. It’s been a long day-a long few weeks-and he’s absolutely exhausted. Once he settles down, soft creaks echo from the stairway. Must be one of the kids, Stan reasons, and ignores it. He turns on his side and shuts his eyes.
But the creaks progress to firm footsteps and eventually, the squeak of the bedroom door being opened.
Stan lazily opens his eyes and turns his head.
Ford stands in the doorway, rubbing his neck.
“You still awake?”
“No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open. Of course I’m still awake you knucklehead.” Stan chuckles.
“Well,” Ford cautiously steps further into the room, as if he’s afraid,” I just thought I’d make sure you were okay. We had a wild couple of days.”
“I’m fine, just tired. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
Ford shrugs and, once more, appears apprehensive as he sits ohn the edge of the bed.
“You alright?” Stan asks.
“I’m fine…I guess. It’s been rough.”
“Everything, Stan. I know since I’ve returned things have been hectic and it’s all my fault, but the best I can do is make sure my family is okay.” Ford exclaims.
“Hey,” Stan wraps his arm around his brother’s shoulder, “it’s okay. We’re fine. The kids are fine. Soos, your weird lab assistant, or should I say boyfriend-Wendy…we’re okay.”
Ford shoots Stan an unnerved look, and sighs.
“I’m not so sure…”
The old men sit silently for a few passing moments, the troubled breathing of Ford’s lungs being the only sound noticeable. Stan wraps one of the many blankets on his bed around his brother, in hopes of establishing some sort of comfort.
“Talk it out, poindexter. I’m here.”
What comes out next is far unexpected on Ford’s behalf. Being the stoic and brooding man he’s been shaped into over the pasty thirty years, the suffocating hug he produces is rather shocking.
Stan can’t do much except hug back-and does so with as much endearment as he can.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ford. It’s over with. Everything is fine.”
“I almost lost you. I was ready to accept the pain and guilt from it Stanley, but now that you’re okay everything is sinking in and I feel like I’m losing control. I can’t stop thinking about how you’d..live without your memory…I’m an awful person.”
Ford’s breath rises heavily, and he shivers in fear.
“What’s important is that I’m ok…at least I’m pretty sure. My joints hurt a bit more than usual, but after the last couple of days we’ve had, I guess that’s normal. But my memory is fine, Ford. I’m okay,” Stan pauses for a brief moment to scratch his left temple, “remember what Ma used to say? ‘No use worrying about it now.’?”
“Yes, Stanley. After she’d get in trouble with the cops for exploiting money for her ‘fortune telling’ business and somehow convinced them to look the other way everytime, I do in fact recall her saying that when we were kids. But that doesn’t work here. There’s still emotional damage, if not psychological, to be repaired. I don’t think I can handle everything I’ve caused.”
“You? Stanford, you’re a ghost chaser, not a-”
“I’m a paranormal investigator, Stan..”
“Whatever, same difference nerd. Anyway, you’re a paranormal investigator, not an invincible robot. You made a mistake. So what. My life is filled with regrettable choices and I turned out fine.”
Ford feels his heart skip a beat, if not several at once, and his eyes begin to twinge. A dull pressure lingers behind them. Don’t cry you idiot, be strong. Stan is right, the worst is over. It’s going to beokay now….
“Regrettable choices because of me..right?” Ford croaks.
“What? Ford, no-”
“If I’d begged dad to let you come back inside, maybe….”
“Maybe what? Maybe we could’ve skipped the forty years of anger, depression, and fear of the unknown? Maybe. I’m sure we would’ve, but that’s life for ya Ford. It’s over now. You’re home, everybody is fine. It’s time to let go.”
And you’re crying, nice one genius. Stan can’t see me like this. It’s bad enough alread-
“Ah, c’mere ya old knucklehead.”
Stan pulls his brother in for another embrace and holds him for a while. Ford remains silent, but his shoulders heave and a damp patch forms on Stan’s shoulder. It’s now that he realizes how disheveled his brother has become.
“C-can you remember everything..? Or just bits and pieces?” Ford mutters.
“I won’t lie, some things feel a bit fuzzy, but most of it’s still in this old noggin.” Stan says.
“I wish this never happened, Stan.”
“We all do. But I had to get you back. I know that portal thing was extremely dangerous and if I hadn’t opened it again, maybe some of this wouldn’t have happened, but it was worth it. You’re my brother, and at this point, I’m just happy you’re alive.” Stan exclaims.
“It’s gonna be ok. It’s over now. I’m here.”
Ford sniffs and gives a light nod. He can’t bring himself to move and look his brother in the eye, but Stan’s warmth is comforting enough.
“We can talk about this more tomorrow, but I think we should both hit the hay. Why don’t you just stay in here tonight, since you’re so out of it?”
Stan gently pulls away and helps Ford lay down, wrapping more blankets around him.
“I hope you get some sleep, Ford. G’night.”
“I’ll try. Sleep well.”
Stan shuts off his bedside lamp and tucks himself in again. He doesn’t feel as tired now, but after a while of watching his twin snore gently, he feels a calm sensation wash over his body and shuts his eyes. He’s glad things are getting better, and he’s determined to make sure Ford heals completely.
1. Barry and the kiddos snuggling on the couch together, taking a mid afternoon nap. Iris shows up and definitely takes pics for posterity.
2. Iris carrying Don or Dar (my nickname for “Dawn”) until they’re too big to pick up. It’s a better workout than CrossFit! Once the year comes when they’re too big for her, Barry is still regularly recruited as honorary chauffeur. (Cisco’s kiddos figure out pretty quickly that Uncle Barry is like, really strong, so two or more are usually holding onto his back/shoulders/hip as well.)
3. The kiddos take after Iris in everything – they’re absolutely gorgeous as adults and adorable as kiddos – but in Speed, it’s all Barry. Barry literally doesn’t sleep for nine days the first time one of them accidentally Flashes for fear that they’ll run off. He needn’t worry: they can’t run any distance until they’re nine. (Then he worries continuously until they’re ten, when his worry reaches critical mass and he surrenders responsibility to the Speed Force.)
4. Going to work with Iris is more fun than Barry because Barry doesn’t let Don or Dar in on the action, just shows them the precinct, while Iris shows them self-defense and takes them for macchiatos with Linda. (Teaching them how to hogtie someone is unfortunate for Barry, who learns to sleep very lightly).
5. Hey, they’re not total hellions: they just mess with Dad because Dad messes with them. Barry makes a lot of regrettable choices by mentoring his kids. (Wally, who’s worked alongside Barry for years and knows his tricks, has zero qualms giving his brother-in-law hell by sharing Barry’s speed-related weaknesses with the Tornado Twins.)
6. Barry finds roller coasters kind of nauseating these days (know that suspended stomach feeling when you’re falling? Yeah that lasts like *five minutes* for him), but the kids have a high tolerance until their twenties. Iris is absolutely fearless and can and will ride any coaster. (“After running with you, it’s a breeze,” she teases Barry which, touché.)
7. Family dinner night might be at a reasonable hour, but occasionally they eat at three in the afternoon and just call it a *day,* or they stay up till midnight because “wow totally lost track of time but *Mom guess what*.” Mom does not want to guess what, but she’s willing to play along for pizza.
Amalie, although she was very rude, vulgar and rebellious did have a soft side, just for a girl named Theodosia. A girl on the cheer squad who was as innocent as can be. She had been dating the girl for a little while now, taking things slow for her. Heck, they barely even kissed before (the first time didn’t count because Theo panicked and didn’t think it was right). Amalie didn’t mind, but she didn’t like guys hitting on her girl.
Which was what seemed to be happening right then. The blond walked over, letting an arm snake around the smaller’s waist and curl her into a hug while she popped a bubble. “Scream before I cut both your dicks off and feed them to you.” She snarled, scaring them off for now and looking over at her girlfriend. “Hey T,” she murmured softly, leaning down and nuzzling her face into the brunette’s neck. “You okay?” She questioned, worried she arrived just too late.
ALRIGHT SO someone asked him about working with Chelsea Spack
Cory said how much he loves working with her and just her as a person 😍
APPARENTLY, he found out before she did how and when Kristen would die. Cory said that he was really upset by this, when he found out that she didn’t know yet, however, he had asked the writers/people in charge what would happen to their characters, so he kind of “did it to himself”, BUT he wished that he hadn’t known before she did
Also he said that Kristen was only supposed to be there for two eps, but they saw how well Cory and Chelsea worked together and their chemistry with these characters, so Kristen got written into more eps because of that
Oh and he made a quip about Regrettable Edward Nygma Choices saying “maybe the best way to tell someone you love them is not having your hands around their neck”
He loved that Isabella looked just like Kristen, and that despite saying he’d never love again, he clearly could, but just for a certain person
One of his favorite scenes was stabbing Kristen’s horrible boyfriend Tom because he got to be a “hero” by “accident”
He was the one who picked out Nygma’s glasses because they were literally picking out “character looks” at this photoshoot that happened LONG before even a pilot was shot.
He gave a high schooler advice about how to get into acting and also talked about his upcoming films like “1985″
Someone asked what he thought about Nygmobblepot and he said after this episode, he kind of made this face and I believe he said it didn’t look good
ALSO HE LOVED WORKING WITH THE ACTRESS WHO PLAYED MYRTLE BECAUSE SHE’S THE IBS SPOKESPERSON ON THE COMMERCIALS
There’s more that I’m forgetting but this is what I remember now.
It’s maybe two weeks after Otakon when Yuuri checks his email. He has stuff from his school about prepping for the incoming school year and a message from his class President about a seniors only gathering at the Party Bridge near campus.
He also sees one, subject: HI! <3 from sender firstname.lastname@example.org.
Yuuri immediately slams his laptop closed.
He covers his mouth with his hands and squeaks. His best buddy (who is not human) comes bounding off his bed to his desk with concern. Vicchan, his reddish brown toy poodle (yes, named after guess who) is Yuuri’s favorite thing in the world.
He gets his phone, opens the mail app. Right there in the inbox, marked unread. HI! <3, sender email@example.com.
Yelping, Yuuri closes his eyes and opens the email like it’s a bomb.
Hi, Yuuri! This is Victor, from Otakon? I saw your email on your entry form—hope you don’t mind! Anyways, I have a project in mind for Katsucon in February, and I thought you might be interested in partnering up with me! I know you usually work with your friend, but this is a special idea I’ve had for forever and I feel like after seeing your work up close, you’re the perfect fit!
If you’re able, I’d like to get together soon to begin discussion—it’s going to be tricky to source some of the materials, especially the lace! Can we meet for dinner this weekend? Say, Saturday at six, The Source on Pennsylvania—it’ll be my treat!
Thanks, talk to you soon! <3
Yuuri screams. He’s home alone—his mom is at her book club with her old friend, Minako, his dad is golfing at Lansdowne, and his sister is away for the week with her college friends—so he doesn’t need to come up with a lie about the reason for the screams.
He calls number three on his favorites, though.
“Hey, this is Phichit,” he answers on ring #2.
“Oh my God,” Yuuri cries. “Oh my God, he wants a costume, me, us, a pair—oh my God.”
“…What?” Phichit answers.
“VICTOR EFFING NIKIFOROV WANTS TO DO A PAIR COSPLAY WITH ME,” Yuuri shouts.
“Holy shit,” Phichit replies.
“Right?” Yuuri tries to slow his heart. “What do I say? I don’t…it’s not you, it’s a pairs thing, I don’t—”
“Okay, whoa, stop,” Phichit replies. “You are not contractually obligated to only ever cosplay with me. You can do a thing with him, I’m not offended as long as you don’t completely abandon our partnership. I’ll probably do that Bleach outfit you have no interest in, it’s fine! Do the thing!”
“You sure?” Yuuri says.
“Yeah, but I’ll need your help,” Phichit says. “I can sculpt the actual Bankai stuff myself, but sewing the uniform is a little above my pay grade.”
“No problem,” Yuuri says with a sheepish grin. “Okay. Um—I better email him back. Thanks, Phichit. You’re a peach.”
“Yup, sure am!” Phichit laughs. “Talk to you later—my mom needs help with the pool.”
“Can I come swim later?” Yuuri asks.
“Yup! Leo and Guang-Hong are coming, Seung Gil maybe too. I’ll text you a time. Later, skater.” Phichit hangs up.
Yuuri reopens his computer like it’ll bite his hand off.
I’d love to meet with you! I’ll google the address and take the Metro. My cell is 571-585-1090 if you need to change plans or are running late.
See you Saturday!
It’s Thursday. He can…be cool for two days.
Actually, no he couldn’t, as was evidenced by his mother on Friday night during their evening ritual of Catan begging him to try to stay still. He did not. Therefore his dad made him forfeit his sheep.
Catan is an equilizer in the Katsuki household.
Yuuri can’t sleep, his nerves buzzing too much even though he played white noise through the headphones in his iPhone. Did nothing. Vicchan slept like everything was normal.
Yuuri gets up way too early, obsesses way too long over his clothing, finally deciding he was as good as he can get, drives to the Silver Line, and begins the trek to the District. He gets off at the correct stop, walks to the restauant, and immediately regretts all of his choices up until that moment including being born.
He is in a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It’d a Wolfgang Puck dim sum restaurant. Oh no why, Victor will think he lacks culture.
“Yuuuuuri!” calls a happy, familiar voice.
Yuuri starts and his eyes go wide.
Victor stands before him in a linen dress shirt and a pair of salmon colored pants. His hair and skin are flawless. His eyes are beautiful. Yuuri’s heart stops and restarts. “Hi,” he manages. The shyness comes to the forefront. He wants—he isn’t sure, but…it’s something more than a hello.
He gets a hug. Victor grabs him like they’re old friends, and Yuuri hesitates but hugs him back. He pauses and takes a moment to inhale his scent—it’s not that shitty sandwalwood the douchebags at his school wear, it’s lighter…like lemon balm.
Victor keeps a hand low on his waist as he steers him to request a table. They get a cute one for two like it’s a date. (Is it a date? Did Victor mean this as a date? Thirteen year old Yuuri will die of joy if it’s a date. It in no way can be a date.)
Victor smiles, looking like Yuuri just gave him a rainbow. “I’m glad you came,” he says.
Yuuri chokes on his water. “Uh, thanks? Um…me too.”
Victor grins. “I guess I should get down to business first. Unfortunately, it has to come before…pleasure.”
Yuuri pushes up his eyeglasses. He nods.
Victor pulls up an image on his phone, passing it to Yuuri. Yuuri peers down at it—it’s an elaborate fanart of Fuuma and Kamui from X/1999. They have very detailed wings, there’s obvious hand beading and embroidery on their outfits, and they’re perfectly tailored. Fuuma is in white, Kamui black, and there are red ribbons cascading off both of them. “Red string of fate,” Yuuri says out loud.
“You spotted that,” Victor replies with a grin.
“I’ll have to get help from Phichit on the wings, I’ve never done them on my own,” Yuuri continues.
“I have, that I can handle,” Victor says. “It’s more how finely tailored the outfits are. My tailoring is always a bit weak, so I tend to do costumes that don’t have quite such an emphasis. I have access to embroidery machines on campus, so I can have you come up to work on those. It’ll be more expedient.”
“The beading I can do in class, the home ec department is out of stuff to teach me so they just let me bring in my projects,” Yuuri admits.
Victor gives him a look. “Wow,” he says. “And you’re…just in…high school.”
“Hm, well I turn eighteen Thanksgiving day this year,” Yuuri says. “I need to figure out college stuff soon, as a matter of fact.”
“You should come here!” Victor blurts.
Yuuri starts and looks up. “Um…”
“The Corocoran,” Victor clears up with a blush on his cheeks. “They have a production focus in their Theater program. You could…major in costuming? It’s…well, it’s an idea.”
“Phichit’s applying there,” Yuuri says as he zooms back in on the image. CLAMP and their Christian idolatry, yikes. “He’s going into the fine arts. I guess I could think about it.”
“I just think it’d be nice to have you around school with me,” Victor says. His finger glides over the rim of his glass in a slow pattern. “Chris Giacometti is in the photography department, but…I’d like seeing you every day too. Just think about it.”
Yuuri meets his eyes and…no, he’s imagining it. He clears his throat. “You want to make these for Katsucon?”
“Mmhmm,” Victor says. He ordered them the duck, and it arrives, smelling crisp and mouth-watering. Yuuri is starving, he realizes. He looks at Victor again, this gorgeous guy even out of cosplay and make up and Photoshop and he—
He blushes and focuses on his dinner.
Victor chats the whole time, Yuuri chiming in where appropriate. When they finish and Victor pays as promised, he takes him on a walk. It’s late enough the murky, humid swampland that is DC has become manageable to walk around, and it’s not even ten minutes to the Mall from the restaurant.
Yuuri mostly sees shots of the Tidal Basin at night from the end credits of his favorite local news program, but Victor escorts him there with a hand on his back as he extols the virtues of his university as well as his skills at sewing. Yuuri listens and smiles with pink cheeks, telling Victor about what he likes to do besides cosplay—video games with his friends, late nights at the Amphora diner in Reston, checking out Starland in Annandale.
Victor opens up about his parents—his father a supervisor for a lab at Langley, his mom in the State Department, his dog Makkachin who he moved off campus into a pet-allowing studio as quickly as possible to keep by his side, how he misses the local chain called Another Universe and how he’s considering Dragoncon next year to branch out into film and American comics costumin.
They both marvel at how many times they’ve come to the annual Sakura Matsuri in their very spot at this moment and somehow never met.
The lights are pretty, the stars reflect in the water like sequins embellishing a black velvet gown, and Yuuri with all his heart longs for this to be a date.
He’s imagining it—but some moments, it looks like Victor feels the same.
They head back to the Metro by the Newseum—Victor to GWU, Yuuri to Tysons. “Let’s do again this soon,” Victor says.”We can meet at G Street, see what our local options are, and head to my apartment for more planning.”
“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Victor’s apartment, he exalts in his head.
“Ah, Yuuri—” Victor adds. “I have a Gaylord room for Katsu, a nice one with a view. Would you like a spot in it? There’s room for one more.”
“Oh um—” Yuuri stumbles. He’s never stayed overnight at a con before, but he’ll be 18 then. His mom and dad can’t refuse, though they’d probably want to meet Victor for reassurance.“Yes.”
“Okay,” Victor says, his smile shaped like a big heart. “Talk to you soon! I’ll text!”
“See you,” Yuuri says.
They part ways, and Yuuri can’t sleep for the second night in a row, his heart pounds so hard as his smile threatens to split his face.