#and how strength can be tied into money too but that’s a completely different post

[thychesters]

i got sidetracked the other night but mirage tempo!! love to see a nami fight because she can certainly kick ass and deserves to more often. physical alterations might not be her strong suit, but it’s great to see her hold her own because you know she can. (also knowing she will put up a fight for the sake of her crew? for all of these people that mean everything? hello i am screaming. there is something about now being able to fight for the people you care about vs being unable to the first time you needed to and carrying that with you) also loved her line to kalifa: “if not getting my ass beat makes me rude, then so be it.”

[cinnamonest]

Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.  

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

[i-love-hobbies]

(This isn't an anti-Eda, anti-Lilith or anti-Bump post. Just read this fully, please!)

Murder and violence are not ok!

This whole thing started literally after s1ep2 where Eda murdered a dude on screen.

What am I talking about?

"It's just a cartoon. Don't read too much into it."

I don't have a very strong opinion on this but I'm not a fan of normalizing murder. Also "Heroes that are genocidal maniacs, kill the villain cause he's awful." sounds extremely cringe.

And why are you reading a post that analyses a part of a cartoon right now?

"Death is normal on the Boiling isles, so that makes it ok."

Woah, woah! WHAT?

If everyone used that logic, slavery would still be a thing.

Just cause it's normalized in a culture doesn't mean it's less harmful or that everyone that comes from that culture does it.

It can be used to explain someone's actions, but not excuse them.

The ignorance of context.

1. Eda's murders

First I wanna point out that it was never emotional, it was all calculated. Remember when Tibbles scammed her, she didn't attack him back. None of her kills are revenge. She has always had something to win from them.

She has murdered two people, probably more, Adegast and Tibbles.

If she didn't kill Adegast. I can see this going two ways. He would starve to death, which means she put him out of his misery or he would slowly go back to full power which ties with Tibbles.

Batman kills the Joker.

No they are not as bad as the Joker but they would have continued trying to hurt her untill they got the idea of killing Willow and Gus in their sleep. TIBBLES KNEW THEIR ADDRESS!

Also if they were willing to do this. Who knows what else they have done to other people too. By doing this she has saved more lifes than she has taken (mostly kids).

Plus this willingness to kill is probably the reason Luz can go to school. Eda's enemies know that if they become an actual treat, things won't end well.

Her enemies are criminals. They are not stupid enough to think that she is helpless without magic. Especially now that she isn't running from the law.

- Now on to almost killing Amity in s1ep5 by making Luz cheat. That was messed up but not that badly.

Witches are harder to hurt, there were healers around who would help a Blight. She saw Amity use abomination so she knew mainly her traps were gonna be activated by a non-living thing.

Luz was going to be injured if that didn't happen. Amity was not in control of her strength and I don't think Lilith thought this trough. Though both sisters would have probably intervened when this got out of hand.

She also isn't the one to force Luz into the fight as many people have said. She has never on screen forced her opinion on someone else except in s1ep9 which was to protect her from school and changed in that episode. Luz just couldn't leave cause quitting ment never being able to perform magic.

Now I know that the right thing to do here was for her to try talk things through. I'm just saying it's not as bad as it seems.

2. Eda's scamming

To get my point across I'm gonna compare it to Wordlob.

Hers is the equivalent of you trying to buy gold and getting plastic. His is the equivalent of you're desperate for a cure and he promises to give it to you and then steals all your money and leaves you to die.

You're not going to try to buy gold when your desperate are you?

Scamming can take different forms and hers is the least harmful.

And consider this, what else can she do to put food on the table with her two adopted kids, Hooty and Owlbert. She can't find a legal job, cause that would be helping Belos, she'll die before she does that and she definitely knows ways to disguise herself but that puts her at risk as well.

3. Lilith's redemption arc still works

Yes, she did murder a bird in s1ep18, but the way it talked and acted. It seemed like it was mimicking speach.

Yes, she did almost kill a child, but she has made up for it probably in that week and a half that we didn't see considering this is the Boiling isles and everything is trying to kill you.

Plus, Eda only talked about the curse, considering "You hurt Luz, you cursed me!" She is not the person who would forget about her kid.

Bonus, she did make up for it on screen as well. In s2ep2 she saved King from Eda's experiments. In s2ep3 she saved Luz and King with her ice glyphs, when she could have just left, giving time for Eda to get them out of there. If Eda didn't show up Lilith would be dead.

4. Bump's jokes

- Dissecting Luz

I don't know why everyone talks about Bump and Amity trying to dissect Luz. They weren't certain if this was going to kill her. They weren't certain if she was alive. All they knew was that the lie will be broken if this would kill her.

Yes, they did try to catch her later on, but not to kill her. They wanted to make sense of what's going on and hopefully find her parents so she gets at the very least a talk on why she shouldn't do this.

Willow just overreacted which in return made Luz do the same.

- Bump's detention room

This room is a hypnosis one. Hypnosis is a job in real life. It can be dangerous but that can also be said about therapy if the therapist is bad. Depends on who does it.

"Impressive still alive!" This is a joke.

If a hypnotic session is stopped in the middle, you'd be too relaxed to be able to move. He was fine, he just needed some time.

- Bump's add

Everything that attacked Matt was alive. He probably did something to piss them off. But yeah Bump should have done something.

- Detention track

Guys knowing what he did for Willow in s1ep3, it's obvious that he was in a lot of stress. If he did what he did in that episode regularly. You just touch an orb and byeeeeee. Then this place should have been crowded.

Plus the wall with troublemakers' names had what six names and a portrait of lord calamity. Eda left school before three decades. And that's all we got.

He was probably not gonna keep them there even though he said so. He probably wasn't even planning that.

- Grom was very messed up. I have nothing to say except I wouldn't be surprised if the Emporer's coven forces this to be a thing and refuses to send actual adults, so the kids learn from a young age or whatever.

- Same with the photomemory class.

- "Bosha got away with murder. I can't say I approve, but at least she's trying new things."

This was a joke. Bosha's parents definitely have influence. His hands are tied like usual so he has learned to make jokes out of it. Plus since when are principals responsible for what happens out of school grounds.

5. The bat queen

She is a protector of palismans and I don't think she started to kill until the government was against her (I'm talking about her cave having bones all over it.)

I can't say it's completely justified like I did with Eda. But I don't see a way out of it where palisman wouldn't be extinct.

Now let's see our vilians' behaviour

1. Adegast

He was trying to kill Eda for his business by using a child as a bait.

2. Tibbles

He almost murdered four children so his stand is revenged.

3. Piniate

Is keeping people captive and literally is making them helpless as a punishment for not writing a book.

4. Demon hunters

They were gonna trow kids off a cliff. I'm not sure why actually.

5. The cat ladies

They were kidnapping children for their cafe.

6. The "coven" inspecture

She was stealing all the magic from none other than kids for power.

7. Wordlob

Who knows how many people have died, lost their jobs and so one, cause of his scams. All for money.

8. Warden wrath

He cut Eda's head so she goes out with him. Captures people for nothing.

9. Odalia and Alador

Alador was not stopping Odalia from trying to kill Luz. In their mind this was gonna help in combination with their child abuse, with their daughter helping their business. Everything they have done for now is for their business.

They backed up when Alador saw an opportunity for THEIR BUSINESS.

10. Kikimora

She tried to murder a child, cause of jealousy. Uses her authority to make the system even worse, cause how dare them look in her direction.

11. Belos

Is abusing a child and abused Lilith. Is the reason that palisman are getting extinct. Wild magic= death sentence. Basically created a horrible authority system that has created a lot of suffering and who knows how many it has killed. Probably all for power, though we don't know completely.

[snow-leopard-7772point0]

I'll Change My Crown, from Light to Dark

The akuma landed on Marinette's windowsill, the girl not even noticing as she sat in the tattered remnants of her designs. Luckily she had dropped off most of her completed works the day before to be delivered to the appropriate patrons, though everything she had yet to send off was ripped, cut, burned, there wasn't a scrap of cloth that was usable for anything but as a guide for buying more. Her sketchbook was in shreds on the floor, paper scattered like confetti over the remaining slivers of all her hard work. 

The akuma danced in place. It's master was urging it to go forward, to possess the girl, but… there were so many objects to choose from! Should it just possess the entire room? The sewing machine? One little scrap of fabric? A piece of paper? What about her emotions? This butterfly had made some of the strongest akumas to date, though the strength behind her feelings was astromically larger than any other person they had targeted. The little insect itself was slightly afraid to act as a bridge for her. It finally flew forward, choosing the scraps of the dress the girl had been making herself for the Wayne gala.

Marinette froze when her emotions intensified, hearing Hawkmoth cooing in her ear. "Greetings, Mistress Hawthorne. They all accuse you of being the bully, of being a liar, never paying attention to the proof you give them. They destroyed your designs, your livelihood, and expect to get away scott free.  I'm giving you the ability to turn all your ruined dreams into hawthorn bushes that force people to see the truth, whether they can accept it or not. No more hiding behind lies or masks, everyone will have to be honest and pay for their crimes. All I ask in return is for Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous."

"I refuse, Hawkmoth "

The villain froze for a second. Only one other person had ever resisted him so easily, and that was due to her love for Ladybug. Nothing about Marinette Dupain-Cheng screamed that she truly cared for the heroes, so why would she resist? He was giving her the perfect way to get revenge! If he didn't fear that it would give the heroes a clue to his identity, he wouldn't have even asked for the Miraculous for this offence! "Why do you refuse? Imagine how great it will feel, trapping them in their castle with your thorns until the truth comes out!"

"Oh, make no mistake, revenge will be divine. But I'm already looking at little to no sleep for the foreseeable future so that I can press charges against them, email all my patrons whose clothes were destroyed about the delay, buy all the fabric to remake their outfits, and get my own dress together for the Wayne gala. Luckily I'm not starting completely over with it, their mindless destruction gave me an idea for my dress, but there is still much to do. I have no time to become an akuma, I have to get to work immediately, and it will be tomorrow before my classmates are all in the same place again."

"What… what if I didn't ask for the Miraculous in return, and you miss a few days of school to get everything completed?

"While missing school may become a necessity before everything is over and done with, I still have much to do. It would take far too long to force the truth out of Lila Rossi, and I am uncertain if Ladybug's Miracle Cure would erase any progress I made on designing as an akuma. You seem like a reasonable businessman, I'm sure you understand."

"Ah, yes, I do, actually. Cut me some slack here, I've been trying to akumatize you for over a year now! What kind of cloth are you cut from?"

"A different kind from my classmates. I refuse to stoop to their level. Besides, I have pride in the fact that I am not helpless, and the costumes I see akumatized people in are atrocious. Please have a nice day, but I do need to get to work."

"I-very well then. Good luck. Please at least make your classmates suffer."

Marinette's smirk alone was fuel to create a fear-based akuma. "They'll pay. But on my terms." The purple butterfly left her dress, and Marinette caught herself as she slumped to the floor. Resisting Hawkmoth had taken much more out of her than she had anticipated.

⏳

Gabriel rose from the underground room, surprising Nathalie. "Sir, surely she didn't-"

"No, Nathalie, she didn't loose. She didn't even accept my offer. I even offered to not require the Miraculous this time, but she still refused. Her mental strength is highly admirable, especially when her guard is at its lowest. She would be a great asset to us."

"In what manner?"

"Any way I can get her. She is one of the best designers I have seen in a long time, especially at her age. I caught a glimpse of her revenge plan when my akuma possessed her and it was astoundingly terrible, and she is kind and independent enough to make an amazing daughter."

"Sir, kidnapping is illegal."

"I don't have to kidnap her, I'll throw Adrien at her." Gabriel started to wave his hand in dismissal, then noticed the look on Nathalie's face.

"Sir, I think you should watch the rest of this." Nathalie walked forward, bringing up the video from earlier. Gabriel had only watched a second of it before rushing to his butterflies, it was easy to recognize the girl's room by her designs. He'd been gunning for her since she lied to him to help keep Adrien in school and made the feathered hat. Her spirit and dedication let him know that she could be a great ally or terrible enemy. She didn't (yet) have the money or power to come after Gabriel Agreste on her own, but he was certain that the girl was being considered for a Miraculous. He knew she didn't already have one, she hadn't responded to Miracle Queen, after all, but several of her classmates had used one. He actually paid attention to the video this time, watching all the way through. The first people seen on camera were the blogger girl and Lila Rossi, several other classmates cropping up through the video. He didn't notice Timebreaker, Evilillstrator, or the Bourgeois girl, though he did see his own son halfway through the recording, happily cutting at a gown that had been carefully beaded with a hawthorn pattern with a pair of scissors, cutting off the beads and chunks of fabric. 

Gabriel's frown deepened. "Cut all ties to Lila Rossi immediately. We will be making a public apology, telling the public that we did not know of her abhorrent tendencies, nor did we expect her to pull Adrien into her schemes. Adrien will be appropriately punished, and we will offer Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng compensation for the destruction of her property, along with a small team of designers that will know to make every stitch to her preference, no matter their opinion on the piece."

"Of course, sir. How would you like to make your statement to the public?"

"Call that news anchor, Najda Chamack, and ask her to come here. I will speak to her in person as soon as she is available. I also want the apology posted to every social media outlet we use, including our official website."

"Sir, is this not overkill? This isn't Audrey Bourgeois."

Gabriel glared at Nathalie. "No, she is not. She designs for more famous people than Audrey does. She is the main designer for the Wayne gala this year. Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Tsurugi Tomoe, even the Wayne's commissioned her work. All of her designs are paid for in a split payment plan, the money for the materials is required upfront while the rest of the payment can wait until after the person received their design to make sure it is what they want. That means there will very likely be several highly influential individuals and families gunning for us because of Rossi and my son."

Nathalie paled. She hadn't imagined that the small girl who stumbled and stuttered every time she saw her would have that kind of power backing her. Everyone knew that the girl had Jagged Stone backing her, MDC was his main designer for everything and anyone who personally met the girl and the rocker knew who MDC was, especially since they were supposed to have their identity reveal at the Wayne gala. Jagged Stone by himself would be bad and the company would take a hit, though she was positive Marinette would stop him before he went too far. But with so many others working with Jagged… Gabriel (the company) would not survive. 

"I will get everything arranged." Nathalie quickly left the office.

⏳ 

Marinette's first order of business was to email all of the clients affected by her classmates's actions. She informed them that they did not need to worry, as she was suing all the students for the costs of what they destroyed- not just materials, but labor as well, and would be buying new material for their clothes out of her own pocket until she got retribution. She also informed them that their orders would come in slightly later than planned, though not by much. Clara, Jagged, Kagami and her mother, and the Wayne's all responded to her email with assurances that things happened and to take her time. Bruce Wayne offered to delay the gala so that she would have plenty of time to rectify the situation, though she was quick to assure him that it was not necessary.

Her next order of business was cleanup. She collected every scrap of fabric big enough to make so much as a small patch or strip and sat them in a small box next to where her personal dress was. Everything else was collected and thrown in the trash. She dug out her receipts for all the fabrics destroyed, including the fabrics for projects intended for her classmates. She quickly pulled up the video Alya had posted, writing down who destroyed what. She matched the fabrics to the people, then calculated the time she would have spent on each piece. She reviewed the video one more time, noticing that none of the art students, including Chloè, were in the video. Though it was to be expected. The whole class knew how important all art was to the art students; those students would have stopped them if they were in the know. Chloè was not only in the art club, but also still exiled from the class, though her relationship with Marinette had gone from bully to ally. They still weren't friends, but they stuck together against most of the class, only Nathaniel and Alix leaving them alone. The class may have had five braincells in the entire room, Chloè, Marinette, Alix, and Nathaniel each having one all to themselves while the rest of the class, including Madame Bustier, shared the other one, but they used that one braincell to know who could be brought in on a scheme like this.

Marinette had just finished calculating who she would she for what and was on her way to buy fabrics when her phone rang. She grabbed it as she opened her hatch, activating her recording app as she answered. "Hello?"

"Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, it has come to my attention that Adrien Agreste and Lila Rossi have vandalized your property. Lila Rossi has already been terminated and Adrien will face suitable punishment for his actions. I wish for you to come by the manor at your earliest convenience for us to discuss payment."

"If you're free now, I was just about to head out."

"Of course. I'll send a car for you."

"Merci, Monsieur Agreste." Marinette pocketed her phone and made copies of the expenses each of her classmates would be charged. She had no way of knowing where, exactly, Gabriel Agreste stood, but she refused to leave anything to chance. The original, along with the receipts, was stored in her diary box while one copy was left on her desk and another found its home in her purse. She stopped by the kitchen to inform her parents that she was headed to the Agreste Manor and would explain later before walking out to wait on the car.

⏳

Adrien was smiling after school. He had never realized how freeing it was to tear clothes apart, especially clothes made by someone who refused to listen to him. Marinette deserved everything she got, plus some. He wondered what of hers he could destroy next.

He was surprised when he returned home to see his father glaring at him from in front of the stairwell. "We need to have a talk, son." The designer's voice promised pain. "About your friends and actions today."

Adrien stared at his father, confused. "Why? What happened?"

Gabriel growled. "Nathalie."

"Sir?"

"Show him the video, then leave us to our discussion."

"Yes sir." Nathalie quickly pulled up the video of the class destroying Marinette's designs and held the tablet out to Adrien before taking her leave. 

Adrien watched the video, unable to understand what had angered his father. "Do you understand what you have done?" Gabriel demanded.

Adrien shrugged. "I got payback. She wouldn't listen to me when I told her to lay low, so I decided to help the class teach her a lesson."

Gabriel coldly glared at his son. "You have cost me over a thousand dollars just in the hours that girl put into her work. That does not include the cost of the materials, deformation of private property, or potential unlawful entry and vandalism charges. How do you know that Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is not currently an akuma gunning for your head? Or that her clients aren't going to press charges? Her clientele could ruin your entire class, your entire school, with a single phone call."

Adrien scoffed. "She doesn't have that many big clients. Just Jagged Stone. And Marinette can't get akumatized. She's too stubborn to listen to anyone."

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Adrien, I'll tell you this as your classmate is revealing it in less than a month. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been taking the world of fashion by storm while using her initials, MDC. Only certain celebrities and rich people know who she is, mainly people she has worked or designed for. Jagged Stone is the first and main one, yes. But Clara Nightingale has been using her more and more. MDC is the main designer for the Wayne gala, not only Monsieur Stone and Mademoiselle Nightingale commissioning her, but the Tsurugi family and the Wayne family, along with several friends and supporters of the four families. Aubrey Bourgeois supports her, perhaps even more than she supports me, and I have admired several of her pieces done for contests."

Blood began to drain from Adrien's face, though Gabriel doubted that the boy fully understood anything yet. "Her mother's best friend is Najda Chamack, and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng babysits her child. Her uncle is a famous chef who loves his family dearly, especially since his great niece learned Mandarin to be able to talk to him and help him with his French. Alix Kubdel is friends with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, and also comes from a respectable family- as well as Chloè Bourgeois becoming her ally after she helped with her mother. Not to mention that the Dupain-Cheng family is not hurting for money, as they are the best and most popular bakery in Paris. They get orders from all over the city, plus serve at almost every party that has edible food. You attacked the livelihood of one of the most powerful children in Paris. Not only that, but you destroyed the property of some of the most prolific people in the world." Adrien's face had lost all traces of blood, though Gabriel did not expect it to be from shame. No, his son was afraid because he had been caught. "You will not return to school until Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng has revealed herself as MDC to the world, nor will you have access to any of your social media, messages, or phone. You may return to being homeschooled. I shall have to reassess the situation at a later date. If I do allow you to return to school, it will not be François-DuPont. You will drop contact with your current classmates. You are dismissed." Gabriel turned from his son, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

⏳

Marinette was escorted straight to Gabriel's office upon arrival. The man shook her hand before gesturing for her to take a seat. "Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, my assistant showed me the video of what your classmates did. My sincerest apologies. I assure you that my son is currently being punished and Mademoiselle Rossi's contract has been terminated. I also wanted to offer you compensation for your loss as well as a team of designers that will follow your instructions to the last stitch."

Marinette eyed the elder Agreste. "What do you want in return?"

Gabriel blinked at the girl. He knew she was smart, though he hadn't expected her to ask that. "For this? Nothing. My son deserves every lawsuit you draw up. I remember what it was like when I was first starting my company; something like this would have been devistating."

"Well, Monsieur, covering everything will not be necessary. I have already calculated the damages each student did and how much they owe for it. I am not holding you responsible for the actions of any of my classmates, not even Agreste or Rossi. I'm sure you have paid your son for working for you," Marinette felt viciously victorious when he nodded, "in which case he should be able to pay for damages himself. The same holds true for Rossi; she was a contract model for your company and was paid as such. They should both be able to afford my work- custom or not."

"Might I see what you've drawn up? I heard from Aubrey that you have a tendency to undercharge for your work, and, as you just said, my son and former employee should be able to afford your work. The beaded dress my son ruined, for example, should cost twenty-five hundred dollars, bare minimum. I would charge much more than that, especially with how much work is put behind hand-beading." Marinette could do nothing but gape at her childhood idol. She had been expecting a bribe, a threat, something to try to protect his son.

She pulled the paper out of her purse when he raised an eyebrow, pulling the video up on her phone. "Césaire was stupid enough to put her phone in the corner where I could track everyone's movements, and I can figure everything out if I can get Markov. I figured out who destroyed what and calculated what they owe from there. I don't know who picked the lock to the upper floors, or to my room, though my money's on either Césaire or Rossi. Césaire's obsessed with being a great reporter while Rossi is a liar and a thief. Harleprè, Lavaillant, Bruel, Couffaine, and Lahiffe owe the least, they didn't do much. They just ripped a few pages out of my sketchbook. Raincompx, le Chein, Césaire, Rossi, Agreste, and Kantè did the most damage, and so will face the bigger lawsuits. I have already contacted my clients and informed them of the slight delay. Your team of designers, while most appreciated, will not be necessary. It shouldn't take me more than a few days to recreate the Wayne's suits and send them off, I sent the dresses yesterday. Jagged and Clara will both be in Paris next week and can stop by my house to pick up their outfits and have a final fitting. I can easily deliver the Tsurugi chensogams to their home. That covered everyone that had their outfits for the gala destroyed. I had finished the majority of them yesterday and done the final checks before sending them off. I was supposed to send the Wayne suits off today, though that plan was foiled. I was lucky that I went ahead and finished my commissions rather than more personal projects. Most of what got destroyed were projects my classmates requested of me rather than important works."

"Are you positive you don't want help? At least on your beaded dress?"

Marinette pulled up pictures of what she had. "I have several different scraps of colors, most of them either on the darker end of the spectrum or metalic, from the works they destroyed. I'm going to use those scraps from my other works to make a pair of wings on the back of the dress, the colors getting darker the further down they go and metalic fabrics making the outline of the wings."

Gabriel considered the dress. "You'll look like a fallen angel. I hope you're still planning on charging my son the full amount for the dress."

"Most definitely. There will be some alterations I make besides the wings, putting some pieces back together, cutting or tearing others, partially rebeading sections, I have some work to put in. Your son added to my work load when it was already full, he personally destroyed not only my dress but Jagged and Penny's outfits as well. Might I know what punishment he is suffering?"

"So you can plan revenge accordingly?" Gabriel questioned. He sighed at her innocent expression. "He will no longer attend François-DuPont. He will basically be under house arrest for everything except shoots until after the gala. I am undecided as to whether he shall go to another school or be permanently homeschooled. He is not allowed any contact with his former classmates nor access to social media or his phone. So if you wish to strike, do it right after a photo shoot. You can do it before or during as long as you don't ruin the clothes on display."

Marinette's grin was pure evil. "Don't worry, Monsieur Agreste. I have too much respect for the work designers put into their work to be so crass. Will Agreste still practice fencing with Kagami?"

"I shall allow it on a trial basis."

"Very well. It was nice meeting with you, Monsieur Agreste, but I must take my leave. I have too much to do before I traumatize, I mean get payback, I mean revenge, wait, no, deal with my classmates after the gala. But before I go… You wouldn't happen to know anyone that would be able to teach me how to, how should I phrase this… I guess basically be an Ice Queen?"

Gabriel smirked. "Actually, my nephew, Felix Graham de Vanily, will be at the gala. He's a model from England, and many consider him an Ice King. He'd be a great teacher." And perhaps potential mate to bring you into the family. I wonder how many love akumas it would take to get you two together… perhaps Adrien needs a good influence his age around the Manor…

Marinette slightly felt as though she had signed her future away, though that was ridiculous so she simply thanked Gabriel before leaving.

⏳

The next few days flew by in a rush of designing and lawyers. The lawyers her parents got were more than willing to come to the bakery and talk to Marinette as she sewed, especially since she had eyeballed them and given them all scarves and beanies the next time they were there. Marinette didn't bother to pay attention in Bustier's class, electing to nap instead. She was awake for Mendeleiev's classes, though. She liked her dragon-like teacher as the woman actually taught her students. She managed to finish her clients' clothes with time to spare, having gotten so used to designing for Jagged, Penny, and Clara that very few adjustments needed to be made. A couple Wayne suits had come back with notes on where they needed to be adjusted and how, and those were shipped back out that same day. Her own dress took until the last minute, Marinette completely finishing it, including adjustments, the day before she was set to leave for the gala. She would be staying with Jagged and Penny in the Wayne Manor for the two weeks she was to be there, a week before the gala and a week after. Her classmates's parents were horrified to hear what their children had done, making sure the kids paid every penny of what Marinette was suing for without even going to court. Alix and Nathaniel had nearly gotten in trouble with their families, though Marinette was quick to personally visit and explain things. Apparently the other families had contacted the Kurtzburg's and Kubdel's about the scandal with the children, no one noticing that some of the children weren't involved.

She already had her traveling designing kit packed so that she could make sure the Wayne's outfits all fit properly. Chloè and Kagami were traveling with her, determined to make sure their former rival was well taken care of while their parents took care of the hotel. Jagged was fuming beside Marinette whole they rode through Gotham, the girl talking to her friends.

"So, Mari-hime, you told me that you would explain what was going on if Adrien refused to before we left." 

Marinette gave Kagami a highly stressed smile. "I think watching the video would explain things better. I didn't want you to get akumatized because of me while we were in Paris."

"So you knew Adrien would refuse to tell me what crime he committed against you. What video?"

Marinette pulled it up on her tablet. "For the record, I simply suspected that he would keep his mouth shut. Though Monsieur Agreste is making sure that his interactions with anyone besides himself, Madame Sancouer, and his bodyguard are highly limited." She passed Kagami the tablet, Chloè leaning over to watch it with her.

The Japanese girl dropped the tablet in her lap as she watched, clenching her fists so hard that her palms bled. "How- how dare that baka! They all have no honor! They should meet my blade!"

"Kagami. Calm down. I have it handled. I want you and Chloè to teach me how to be a vengeful Ice Queen while we're here. Monsieur Agreste suggested talking to his nephew for lessons as well. By the time I'm back in Paris, I don't want our classmates to be able to recognize me. I already have some revenge planned, the wheels for those are already in motion. I messaged the Césaire and Lahiffe families to inform the entire family that I will be unable to babysit for them for the foreseeable future. Ambassador Rossi has a request in her inbox to visit the school while we are gone, as Rossi's classmates would love to hear about what it's like to be an ambassador. The le Chein family was sent a list of tutors for their son's failing grades, unfortunately all those tutors work at the same time as mandatory swim practice. I sent Luka a copy of the video, so Kitty Section is about to loose their lead guitarist so that he can learn under my dear uncle. Agreste will be facing a startling amount of bad luck for a good chunk of time whilst loosing all of his beloved friends. By the time I am finished, even Hawkmoth won't want to work with them."

Chloè stared at her friend. "Did you really just say 'whilst?' Who hurt you? I just want to talk."

Jagged continued to sulk. "She won't even let me send my rockin followers after those bloody rats. She's only letting me steal away a new guitarist!"

"Because I have everything planned out. And Agreste will become even more isolated once we return. No matter what I say, Kagami is going to duel him to the, figurative, death before informing him of her distaste for him and his actions."

Kagami mock glared at Marinette. "So what if I do? He deserves it. He deserves much worse. But how will he become more isolated? I will still be sparring with him twice a week."

"A person is more isolated surrounded by people that don't care about them than all on their own. Yes, you will physically be there. But your obvious emotional distance will leave him more isolated than him being stuck in his room all day."

Chloè stared at her new friend. "Where was all this evil cunningness when I was your bully?"

Marinette smirked. "I had a wake-up call. Césaire, ironically, taught me that it's okay to stand up for myself, and Hawkmoth helped release a part of me I had blocked out."

"What? Were you akumatized? How did I not know?" Chloè demanded.

Marinette waved her hand dismissively. "It was a few days before we actually became friends, and he didn't manage to akumatize me. He possessed my dress, but I refused to work with him. Apparently he's wanted to akumatize me for a while, but I'm good at forcing myself to calm down."

"What was he going to call you?" Chloè was highly excited to finally have someone who knew what it was like to fully resist Hawkmoth. Not calm down before the butterfly reached them, not resist for a second before giving in, but fully resist the man.

"Mistress Hawthorne." Marinette laughed. "I was going to have the ability to turn my ruined dreams into hawthorn bushes that would trap everyone in their castle and force them to see the truth." Marinette had to stop, she was laughing so hard. "I told him no, and he was so shocked that he only argued for a second before wishing me luck with revenge!"

Jagged continued to sulk through the teens laughter, refusing to give in. He wanted to crush those bloody teens. No one gets away with hurting his niece.

⏳

As soon as she arrived at the manor and had her bags unpacked, Marinette began tracking down the Wayne's, one by one, and dragging them back to her room with their suits or dresses, forcing them to put them on so that she could fully alter them to her preference. Dick was scared of the tiny Asian girl that slung him over her shoulder before grabbing his suit and forcing him to come with her when he hesitated and then worked silently, ignoring his attempts at friendship. He was so scared of her that he sprinted the other direction the first time he saw Kagami. Jason and Bruce both wanted to adopt the girl- she blended in perfectly with their family, and Jason had witnessed both, the girl's kidnapping of his brother and Dick running away from Kagami. He had to respect someone who could instill more fear than Demon Spawn himself, and Bruce wanted to cultivate that talent until he got a Nightingale. Damian and Cass both respected the girl for her professionalism and silence (and word of her traumatizing Dick had already spread through the manor). Tim instantly fell in love with the girl, as she asked him if he wanted coffee or tea while they were doing his fitting, as he looked dead on his feet (he did not choose both or cry tears of joy, and no one can prove to Alfred that he did). Selina purred at the amount of pure chaos she could feel pouring off of the girl, even with her suppressing it while she worked. She needed a kitten. Bruce already had his litter, it was her turn. Kor'i bounced in place the whole time, trying not to inturupt the girl as she adjusted her glorious creation.

Jagged disappeared with Bruce after his fitting, explaining to the billionaire what Marinette had been going through, even showing him the video of her work getting destroyed, before asking for his help to get revenge. He explained Marinette's known plans, and the rocker and vigilante began planning around hers, using their collective contacts and knowledge to open the class's wounds even deeper.

Dinner that night was chaos. Jason, Selina, Bruce, and Jagged were in a constant argument, with Penny occasionally interjecting, that abruptly cut off any time Marinette drew near, she was only able to catch the words adoption and revenge, Kagami and Cass spent their time in silence, eyeing each other. Chloè didn't breathe while swapping between berating Dick and Tim for their fashion choices and interigating them about Gotham and its foreign student transfer policies. Damian scowled at everyone the entire time from his seat next to Marinette. Marinette did her best to emulate him, not noticing Dick slowly sliding his chair further and further away from her.

Damian decided he liked tolerated Marinette five days into her stay. Dick had been complaining to him and Jason about how much Asian girls scared him and Kor'i wanting them to live with them. Marinette had somehow heard his complaints and came storming up to them, cussing Dick out in a mixture of French, Mandarin, Arabic, Italian, and English. Damian did not know why that caused a blush to creep up his face, though he admired the way her accent curled around the words, making everything seem like a language all of its own. 

Jason chuckled when she walked off. "That. That was the art of cussing at its finest. I'm getting Alfed and we're going to go teach my new little sister how to shoot guns. Angel's my favorite, you can all suck it." Jason walked off in the same direction the girl had left in. It didn't take but forty-two minutes for the sound of gunfire to echo around the house. 

⏳

The night before the gala, the women in Wayne Manor gathered in Marinette's room. The night was spent coaching her on how to act and reveal her identity, both on the carpet and during the gala.

"Don't fret so much, kit." Selina advised. "You are a queen, act as such. Keep you head up and keep your cool. They'll all be tripping over themselves to speak to you, and you don't give them the time of day." Chloè nodded her agreement, even as Kagami objected.

"You're approachable and professional at the same time. Just let people see both sides of you."

The women continued to argue, Marinette finally escaping to talk to Alfred. She spent the night under his tutelage, learning all she could about presentation. The man finally ushered her off to bed. "You have a long day tomorrow. You will need sleep to get through it."

⏳

Once arriving at the gala, Marinette kept her head high as she glided down the carpet, the press quickly stopping her to ask if she was a new Wayne and what happened to her dress. "No." She offered a small smile to them. "I'm the designer MDC. The Wayne's hired me to design their suits, and were kind enough to offer their home to me and my aunt and uncle, even letting two of my best friends, Tsurugi Kagami and Chloè Bourgeois, spend the majority of their time with me at the Manor. My parents live in France, where I will be returning to in a weeks time. My room was broken into a few weeks ago, and some of my classmates ruined the outfits I had in there, including my dress. I decided to take what they did to my dress and use it as proof that nothing will bring me down. Excuse me, I need to go. I do not wish to keep my companions waiting." Marinette offered them a small bow before leaving them, giving the press a good look at the drooping angel wings sewn on the back of her dress.

"Angel," One of the reporters breathed, leading to a frenzy. MDC was announced to the world that night as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Angel of Gotham.

⌛

Finding her group was easy, and it was almost just as easy to spot Felix, Gabriel's nephew. She grabbed Damian by his forearm, the boy too startled by her random action to react, and drug him over to the boy she assumed was Felix.

She tapped.the boy on his shoulder. "Excuse me, are you Felix?"

The boy gave a hesitant nod. "Great! I want the two of you to teach me as much as you can about being a vengeful Ice Queen."

Felix raised one eyebrow, looking between the girl and the scowling boy. "What do we get out of it?"

"You get to live with the knowledge that I am going to use your teachings to traumatize idiotic classmates and I can keep the girls from making passes at you, as you are already occupied with entertaining a lady."

The boys both quickly gave their consent, refusing to let the girl leave their side for even a moment the entirety of the gala. They were appeased enough with the girl that her lessons continued throughout the following week, the boys enchanted enough with her to seriously consider following her to Paris and watching her strike like a coiled viper.

⌛

When Marinette returned to school, she had changed. Not just in personality, no, she changed everything. Her personality (at school), her hairstyle, her clothes, everything was redone to fit who she had become. Flowy black pants, a black sleeveless top held up by a ribbon that wrapped around her neck, a red leather jacket loosley hung on her frame, and black boots could be seen under the pants.. Her gaze was frozen as it swept over the class. She was unsurprised to see Adrien sitting in his usual seat, Gabriel had informed her of his decision to place Adrien back in Bustier's class for the time being so that Marinette could teach him a lesson. Alix and Nathaniel had transfered out of the class as soon as they had learned of what the students had done, moving to Madame Mendeleiev's class. Chloè was also leaving, though she was transferring to Gotham after the week was up. She wanted that week to be able to watch the havoc Marinette would wreck on the class. Kagami had already decided to join the class, and Marinette spotted her in Nathaniel's old seat. She was not expecting to see Felix frowning next to Kagami, nor Damian smirking at the back of the blond's head. Thanks to those very boys, though, it was amazingly easy to hide her surprise. A smirk crawled its way across her face, even as she stepped far enough into the room that everyone could see her. She had timed her entrance perfectly. As soon as the class went to explode with praises and questions, the bell rang, Madame Bustier walking in and asking them to all take their seats. Marinette made sure her steps were conscice enough to make it seem as though she was gliding up the rows, refusing to shoot her classmates so much as a glance. 

Lila walked into the room moments later, late, her gaze zeroing in on Felix. "Felibear! It's so nice to see you again!" She squealed, rushing up the steps. 

Felix stopped her with a cold glare. "Do I know you?"

Alya glared at the blond. "How could you ask your girlfriend if you know her? Especially since everyone knows you transfered to François-DuPont for her!"

Felix looked scandalized. "I did no such thing! I came here on request of my uncle. There are very few people here that I know from previous endeavors."

Lila burst out into tears. "H-how could you treat me like this? At least my Damiboo didn't do this!"

"Damiboo?" Marinette asked. Clearly Bustier wasn't going to stop the girl.

"Oh, I forgot you weren't here!" A sly grin crawled across Lila's face. "I suppose Damiboo didn't speak to you the whole time you were in Gotham, otherwise you would have known I used to date Damian Wayne!" The girl boasted.

Marinette looked at the horrified expression on her deskmate's face, and began her countdown. "I would never date a harlot like you!" He burst out, unable to stop himself. The class turned to stare at him, then realized that he had been just ahead of Marinette when the Wayne's and Jagged Stone arrived at the gala.

A slow smirk crawled across Marinette's lips, erasing the smile she had given her friends. "Do tell, Lila. I would love to hear all about your relationship with the Wayne's. Or about you dating Felix here. Oh! What about your relationship with my uncle? Save any of his cats lately? Let's not forget Clara Nightingale! Since she steals her music and dance moves from you, perhaps we could get a preview for her next video?"

Adrien frowned at Marinette. She seemed… different. "Mari, don't be so mean! Your supposed to be our everyday Ladybug, the better-"

"Agreste, if example is the next word to come out of your mouth I will steal Chloè's six inch stiletto right off of her foot and shove it down your throat while I laugh at your struggles." Adrien's mouth snapped shut as he paled, the class staring at Marinette in shock. 

"Marinette! That was uncalled for!" Madame Bustier frowned at the girl. Perhaps letting her go to Gotham was a mistake.

"Really, Madame Bustier? From where I'm sitting, it was perfectly called for. Agreste is not going to use my emotions to manipulate me into being the perfect placemat anymore. You are not going to manipulate me into being the perfect victim. I will no longer tolerate this class's treatment of me. Four people in this room have the authority to call me by a nickname. They know who they are. Four people have the ability to ask something of me. None of them were the ones that destroyed my sketchbook or commissions. None of them told me that I always have to be the better person and set an example for my classmates. I refuse to allow myself to be used any longer."

Alya glared at her friend as the rest of the class stared at the noirette in shock or turned their head away from her in shame. "Girl, what are you talking about? First you want us to pay you a while bunch of money, and now you don't want to do anything for us?"

Damian started to retort himself, stopped by Marinette's hand on his arm. Her voice was frosted fire when she commanded the room. "Everyone in this room, excluding my four friends and our teacher, had a hand I destroying commissions for the Wayne gala, requests from all of you, and my sketchbook. That is why you were sued for damages. Some of you paid more than others because Alya was gracious enough to post a video she had taken of what you did on her blog that allowed me to see who destroyed what. That allowed me to see exactly who has hell to pay." The dangerous smirk several of her classmates had noticed danced across her face yet again, like a sword would dance in the hands of Robin. 

Adrien scoffed. "you're just a baker's daughter. What could you possibly do?" He paled not long after the words flew out of his mouth, remembering what his father had told him.

"You look like you just remembered that I am not just a baker's daughter. Why don't you share with the class?" Marinette offered up one of her customary sunshine smiles, though Adrien was not fooled this time, quickly yelling the class exactly what his father had told him. 

Lila blanched. Forget the Agreste's and that stupid reporter, she should have set her sights on Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette smiled down at the class, her court sitting in the back two rows with her. Chloè had kicked Felix out of his seat next to Kagami, and Felix had nudged Marinette into the middle of the bench, sandwiching her between Damian and himself.

Her blue eyes were frigid as she glared down upon her kingdom. The time for the Queen of Light was over- Darkness had come for her, and she welcomed them with open arms. Her crown darkened, from gold and diamonds to silver and onyx, and her reign had only begun.

[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Chapter 7

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Lots of pics, Cursing, Angsty Angst, Mention of Death, Lots of Plot, Anthony Ramos, Afro Samurai, Clothes altering, SMUT: Fingering, Thumb sucking, Fluff. 18+.

Word Count: 6.6 K 

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal and nursing his broken heart post pandemic. 

Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, movie star.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were chaotic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

Read the Previous Chapter.

--------

Thursday night/Friday, May 6-7, 2023

After Daveed heard what you said, he stood stock still, trying to decide whether or not to go back into your room.  He clenched his fists and concentrated intensely to not break the fucking door down. All he needed was for you to call his name…

You stood in the middle of your room, naked except for the towel.  You closed your eyes and prayed for strength to not go running after him. You had to stay in control.  

But if you saw him turn your door handle, you would fuck him right there on the floor of your room.

After a few minutes, you both turned around and went about your business, Daveed to his room and you to the shower. You thought of Daveed in the shower and fell into bed still thinking of him. 

What did you want for your birthday, if not Daveed?

Daveed, alone in his bed, thought of all the feelings involved.  He knew you were fragile, but it seemed you were relaxing a bit, deciding to trust him if just a little.

He resolved to give a little bit of chase. You just needed to feel safe and accepted. 

You dreamt of each other so deeply that all that was left when you woke up was a wisp of a memory.

------

Daveed did not sleep long.  Even though it was after 4 o’clock when he went to sleep, he was up by 10, hard on raging under the sheets.  

He’d be damned if he jerked off, but he remembered your voice through the door of the room last night, and he had to strip the sheets away, as he was making a mess at the thought of you.  

He decided to go for a run on the beach. He pulled on some basketball shorts and decided to go shirtless, as the temperature outside was already 80 degrees.

Daveed ran with his music blasting in his ears.  He played out song lyrics and lined up preparation for upcoming roles.  Before he knew it, he was three miles down the beach from the house.

He turned around as the tropical heat and the sun was getting to be a bit much. He went back in and went to his room to shower and put some clothes on. You didn’t know the sight you were missing.

When you woke up at Noon, you pulled on Mark's t-shirt and basketball shorts and made your way to the kitchen which had floor to ceiling windows and glass doors facing the ocean. It was breathtaking. The doors were open and the ocean breeze felt amazing.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" 

You turned to see Daveed at the stove, greeting you and smiling. 

He was wearing an orange Oakland tank top and some pajama pants slung low on his hips. You smiled at his hair, which was tied up in two curly puffs at the front, with the back down in his wild curls.  

Even though it was an odd hairstyle for a grown man, you knew the curl life. And it did not take away from his masculinity.  

Not. At. All.

Besides, his curly puffs gave you a place to focus rather than on his well-muscled arms.  

Daveed’s hair reminded of when your mom did your hair only to have Dell try to pull your pony tails out as soon as she dismissed you from the kitchen chair. 

Ya’ll would get into so much trouble for fighting yet again. The thought gave you a warm feeling at the memory as you smiled wider and patted your own pineappled hair. 

‘Damn, her smile is a killer,’ Daveed thought as he watched you look around the kitchen for other signs of life. Now he was glad that he couldn’t sleep, and that he decided to be productive.  

He would have the chance to talk to you. As friends. Yeah.  He nodded to himself, trying to emphasize that last thought.  Friends.

Fuck.  He was in serious trouble.

Noticing that you and he were the only two humans in the kitchen and sniffing the air for the delicious smell that was wafting over from the stove, you finally greeted Daveed.

"Good morning, D.  Looks like everyone else is still knocked the fuck out.” 

Your other four friends were nowhere to be found.

You laughed, yawned and stretched.  Daveed turned back to the stove, cursing to himself. You were so damn fine.

“Calm the fuck down boy,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” 

You ventured over to see Diggs making French toast and bacon. Your stomach rumbled.

"I said sit down. Sounds like you’re hungry, haha. We gotta feed you. Grab some fruit over there and I'll serve you right up."

You grabbed something and sat down at the bar facing the windows. When Diggs turned to offer you some fresh oj, you didn't notice him watching you eat your banana. 

Your lips were a problem for him. When you looked away from the ocean, Daveed turned back to the stove and looked over his shoulder to smile at you.

His smile made you feel some kind of way.

"Why do they call you ‘Smiley?’" 

Daveed laughed, a sound that was quite nice.

“Because I started out as a clown. A professional clown.” 

You tilted your head, convinced that he was fucking with you. But maybe, he and Rafa always talked about the random shit they did to make money before they made it.

When he winked and turned back to the stove to the food, you just shook your head and ate the rest of your banana, positive that Daveed was fucking with you.

Meanwhile, Diggs was trying to stop himself from thinking about fucking with you. He did not need to watch you eat a banana. He licked his lips as he thought of how your lips tasted.

You smiled at Diggs’ broad back. He seemed different this morning.

He turned to plate some food for you and smiled again, shaking his head.

“Most times it’s a nervous tick.”

You were confused. “What’s a nervous tick?”

“My smile. I'm actually a really shy person.  Most times my smile is a defense mechanism.”

You were not sure about all that. Daveed had to know how he affected people.

“I’m not sure I believe that. Man. You are famous for performing in front of hundreds of people a night.  You’re on tv, movies, for goodness sake! You do live rap shows with your shirt off. I ain’t boo boo the fool.”

Daveed’s laugh filled the kitchen.

“How many clipping. shows did you watch on YouTube?  Or did you only watch the ones where I'm shirtless?” 

His look was hungry, and surprised, like he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. Then he barrelled on.

“I am shy, but I get my energy from crowds. I'm an introverted extrovert. Ya feel me?"

You nodded, understanding. You noticed that he was fiddling with the spatula he had in his hand. Uncertain again. He really was awkward. It was sweet. And hot.

Diggs continued.

"When I perform, I'm probably under the influence."

Pause.

"Hold up. What?" 

You flashed back to Mark. You couldn’t be around this again. Daveed caught your panicked look.

"Oh, it’s not like that, haha."  

That laugh and that smile. It automatically put you at ease. 

"It just takes a little. Drink; like last night at Criag’s Adrenaline; when I used to run track. Now it's performing." 

Daveed watched you carefully, gauging whether or not to continue. Fuck it, he thought. He felt as comfortable with you as when he first met Rafa.

"You know what the best drug is?" 

You cocked your head to the side, intrigued despite yourself. That smile. It was angelic and so opposite of what came out of his mouth next.

"Fucking. You know? When it's that good good. Or even better, that feeling when you haven't smashed, but the sexual tension is everything?"

There was suddenly little air in the room. You had to open your mouth to get oxygen. Oh. You knew the feeling alright. You gulped down your orange juice and continued eating.

"Hard-dick dopamine delivers every time." 

He said it so casually. He was playing innocent, but he was going for it.

You choked on your bacon. Daveed came up beside you.

"Raise your arms above your head.”

You turned toward him, held your arms up and he helped you, his hands holding your hands up. You stopped coughing pretty quickly but you stared at each other with your small wrists in his large hands. Daveed shifted on his feet and cleared his throat.  

“You good?" His voice had to be a couple of octaves lower. 

You gaped for a second, mouth still open, then laughed and nodded, pulling your arms slightly to get him to release them.  Daveed let go, stepped back and laughed along.

"But yeah. Back to what we were talking about...It just takes a little high, and I'm a completely different person." 

You watched him as he crossed his chocolate arms. 

"So what's your drug? Your motivation?"

That was something you didn't want to think about too hard. You tried to avoid his eyes. You cleared your throat and took another drink.  

“You got any vodka for this orange juice?”

-------

“C’mon. I made you this gourmet breakfast and everything…” You could hear the smile in his voice even though you were looking down. You didn’t feel pressed, you just felt like telling D this would open up so many things to him.

"Well, I don't do hard drugs if that's what you mean. No pills, or coke. Don't need molly," you winked and filled your mouth with French toast. 

"Gosh. This food is amazing!"

Daveed could barely make out the words through the food in your mouth.  He shook his head.

"Thanks, but don’t play me Lindy. Is french toast your motivation?"

Diggs wasn't letting you off the hook. You thought about it.  He was being very cool, and you felt safe with him.  You plunged ahead.

"I think about how fragile life is. How it is not guaranteed from day to day. How it can be taken away in a moment." 

You tried to push the emotions down and took a deep breath.

"I lost my twin brother when we were 17 in a car accident. I think a lot about what he didn't get to do. And that motivates me to do better with my life."

Daveed just looked down at the counter, mortified that he had pushed you to share something so personal. Then he finally looked up at you.

"That's a good reason to be motivated. I'm sorry for your loss." He looked down at his plate again.  "Look, I didn't mean to press you...."

Telling Daveed about Dell just felt right, even though you really didn’t know him like that.

"Don't apologize.  You didn't know. And I'm glad I told you." 

Diggs looked up at her and smiled. You smiled back.

He got up and stood next to you to grab your plate. Daveed smelled like coconut. It was nice. You closed your eyes and sniffed him.

"You done?" He was laughing at you.

"What? Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"Where is the fooood?"

Craig padded in the kitchen, with a wide smile. 

"There you are." You grinned at your cousin.

"Goood morningggg peopleeeee! I smell the Diggs Special. Hey. You two fuck last night?”

Rafa came in already on one this morning. Unlike his best friend, his confidence seemed to seldom waver.

He ignored your shocked looks and Craig’s laughter and went to get some food.  He continued as if he just walked in and said, “Good morning.”

"Ay, D, you gonna go check out this venue in town with me?"

Daveed shook his head at his friend. But he was chilling.

"Sure, what up?"

"I figure we can turn up on stage tonight"

"Cool. Let me eat and chill a little bit before we go." He looked at his watch. "About two?"

"Dope."

Jasmine walked into the kitchen. 

“Lindy needs to go shopping. We should come with.  You down, Craig?”

“You know it. That reminds me, we gotta fix you up.  Start destroying Daveed’s pants, since Lindy won’t do it for real.”

“Y’all gonna get enough…” you were getting swole.

“Calm down Ms. Fussy pants. Let’s go.”

Craig grabbed some shears from the kitchen and went toward Lindy’s room.

When you got to your room, Craig gave you the business.

"You are so tiresome."

“What?”

“You just need to fuck the man. We are all tired of feeling this sexual tension. It’s bothersome.”

“Leave me alone, Craig.” You watched as he worked his magic on the jeans. “What if I don’t want t…”

“Lie.”

“What if I’m not read…”

“Fuck that.”

“What if he hurts me? What if I hurt him?”

Craig put the shears down and turned toward you.  

“Listen, stop over thinking and do what you feel. What you want. Turn up. It’s your birthday. Anybody can see that man is all about you.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. But you deserve…” He didn’t say it. 

“You deserve. Now put these clothes on, bitch.”

----- 

You emerged from the room and no one paid any particular attention to you, no one but Daveed. 

His eyes swept from your feet, which were housed in some of Jasmine’s high heeled sandals, to your long, brown legs which were highly moisturized and seemed to go on and get better from your juicy calves to your generous, muscular thighs. 

Craig had cut and distressed some jeans that Daveed didn't particularly love to garments that he felt he could not live without. 

On you. 

Damn, Daveed gaped as he remembered that you probably didn’t have any underwear on. 

His eyes moved up to notice how his blue Oaklandish t-shirt was huge, but the way you had it tied up let it accentuate your waist, breasts and shoulders.

‘Good God,’ he thought. As his eyes moved up to yours, he saw that you noticed his reaction and were smiling at him. He smiled back. He wanted you to wear nothing but his destroyed and altered clothing for the rest of your life.

“OKAYYYYYYY, you look cute as hell.” Jasmine admired your outfit.  

“Thank you!”  Craig responded. 

“Yes, you did that!” Jas laughed.  “And the model ain’t half bad.” Jasmine got up, took your hand and had you twirl.

“Got DAMN!”  

Everyone turned and looked at Rafa as he yelled.  He put his hand over his mouth. “Oh, did I say that out loud?”

Daveed was so grateful that you did not have any of your own clothes. Your ass in those distressed shorts were everything. He gulped and you and Jasmine giggled.

“Be quiet!” 

Anthony shushed everybody and then gave you a double take. 

“Nice, Lindy,” but then he turned back to the tv. He was used to Jasmine’s glorious ass, so he was nonplussed. 

“Let’s just finish this episode before we go. It’s my favorite,” he said as Jasmine went back over to sit down with him.

Black Dynamite was on the tv while they were waiting. It was the alien episode. 

Ant and Jas were curled up in a big white overstuffed chair, Craig was on the other,while Daveed and Rafa were on the couch. You sat down in between them. 

You leaned your head on Rafa’s shoulder, looking at Daveed. Rafa put his arm around you, watching the show, as you put your legs up on Digg’s knees. 

You didn’t see Rafa wink at Daveed, who just smiled at you and turned toward the screen. After a couple of minutes, he put his hand on your shins, looking over to see if it was okay.  

Your chill smile indicated your assent.  He started lightly rubbing, looking down at your caramel skin. Your legs were so soft. 

Diggs peeked up at you relaxing and accepting his touch, and snuggling into Rafa’s embrace.  The way you were looking at him was everything, even if you were in Rafa’s arms. 

Rafa was his boy. And he knew what you wanted. As for Daveed and you, you two were watching each other and not the screen.

Daveed decided to move his hand up your leg, but a flash went off and he stopped. He hadn’t noticed that the show was over and that Craig was taking pictures. 

"This is so cute! Family love!" 

He was cheesing as he snapped a wide-angle selfie and some pics. Jasmine came and sat on your lap, the couch becoming a crazy twister game. 

Anthony came behind the couch and snuck in the pics with the crazy eyes flipped a double bird behind Rafa’s head. You were all being so silly.

"What is this, a orgy?” Rafa with the jokes. 

“Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with that.” That devilish smile. Everybody laughed. 

“Y’all are some beautiful people, but ain’t nobody got time for that. Let's go."

Anthony seemed hype.  He slapped his hands together and then rubbed them.

“Okay, we have a choice, since we are going into town we can drive….” he looked around at everyone.  “OR, we can go over in my new boat!”

Everyone sensed that there wasn’t really a choice, so they all said, “Boat!” and laughed.  

Anthony’s grin was wide as fuck.  Jasmine harshed the flow.

“The only thing is, it only has four seats…”  Everyone looked around and counted six people. Ant spoke up.  

“I’ll be piloting, so I will stand, but it takes about 20-30 minutes, soooooooo…..”

“Sooooooo, Lindy… would you mind sitting on D’s lap? We need to get creative.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she smirked. 

“Would that be okay with you Diggs?”

Rafa coughed “Setup” into his hand.

You looked at Jasmine and Anthony and Daveed, who was looking at you expectantly.  You were in agreement with Rafa, but you weren’t mad. It seemed that everyone was looking at you.

“Sure…” said Daveed whose eyes were fixed on you.  “Is that okay with you, Lindy?” 

You smiled and nodded your head.  “I’m cool with it.”   Daveed smiled wide, eyes crinkling with happiness.

Jasmine and Anthony led you all out onto the back deck, where you and Jas took off your heels, and down to the beach, a little ways away to the boat dock.  You and Daveed brought up the rear of the little ensemble.

You were watching the waves and the beautiful surroundings, trying not to focus on the awkwardness. 

Daveed was watching you.

“You good Lindy?” 

Daveed’s voice broke your reverie.

“Yeah.” 

You two stopped and looked at each other.  Your head was tilted back, looking into D’s eyes. He smiled down at you and you felt warm.  Must have been the sun.

“Heyyyy youuu guuuysss!”  

Daveed nodded his head toward the boat. 

“Leggo.”

You smiled and followed him. Ant was at the helm, Jasmine and Rafa were at the front, and Craig was in the second row.  

Daveed stepped on the boat and turned around offering you his hand. You flashed back to that January night.

You swallowed, smiled and tried to board. And immediately fell when you misjudged the deck while stepping on the boat.

Daveed helped you up, chuckling, while Craig howled and Rafa shook his head. Jasmine just stared, open mouthed, said “That’s not funny,” then burst out laughing.

Anthony was busy getting the boat ready but had a grin on his face.

“Fuck all y’all!”

“No, not all of us, just D…”

“Shut the fuck up Craig.”  You gave him the gas face and then turned and smiled at Daveed.

Daveed was seated and spread his arms out so you could sit down.  Anthony started the engine, so you got settled in on his lap as carefully as you could.  

“You okay?” you asked him softly, turning on his lap and feeling the muscles in his thighs. And maybe something else. 

You tried to adjust your shorts to cover your core adequately, because like this, he would easily be able to ascertain your situation.

Daveed looked into your eyes and whispered, “I’m perfect.”

You agreed silently as you stared back into his big browns. 

You were thrown against Daveed’s chest as the boat gained speed. You were able to feel his abs through his t-shirt and your rear shifted and came into contact with his crotch. 

‘This is going to be a fun ride,’ you thought, smiling to yourself.

Daveed put his arms around you, one at your waist and one on your legs, to try and hold you steady.  The movement of the boat allowed him to feel you, just as he wanted.  

He turned his head and looked at the water, concentrating on keeping his hands in neutral locations.

Jas looked over at you.  “You okay?” she mouthed.

You smiled and nodded, giggling a little.

D turned his head back quickly to look at your face. You looked at him and winked. He smiled and unknowingly started stroking your leg.

You stopped laughing and all of your attention turned to his hand on your leg. You adjusted yourself in Daveed’s lap. You were getting a little moist and could feel his cock becoming hard. 

Your lips parted and you started breathing a little faster.

The feel of you on his lap was what was up. There was a definite heat from your core. Daveed happened to look down at his t- shirt on you and saw that your nipples were hard.  

All he wanted was for them to be in his mouth and to be enveloped in your heat.

Daveed turned his head to look at everyone else to see if they noticed you two, and his lips brushed your shoulder.  He heard your sharp intake of breath.

Geez, he felt like he could take you on the boat in front of everyone. By the way your body was reacting, he thought that you would let him.  

He finally noticed he was stroking your leg and stopped himself.  He sat up straighter and tried to get control.

You closed your eyes and moaned a little when Daveed pulled away.  All you wanted at that moment was him inside you. When you opened your eyes, Daveed was looking at you.

“You sure you’re comfortable? I could sit on the boat deck if you want.”

“No!” you said a little too loudly.  Craig smirked at you.

You blushed, then relaxed again in D’s arms. How could a moment be so awkward, yet so perfect?.  

After about 20 minutes, the view of the pretty little town of Isabela became clear.  It looked like a neat spot to spend the day, but you were sad that the boat ride was over.

As the boat came to a stop and tied off at the dock, you and Daveed let everyone get off before them, then D climbed out, turned around and held out his hand for you.  

You took it and stepped out onto the dock. You didn’t let go and Daveed didn’t either. No one said anything, just exchanged glances as you and Daveed concentrated on being casual with it.  

Truth be told, each of your hearts were pounding in your chest.  

This is another world. You could be free and do what you wanted to do.  And what you wanted to do was to hold Daveed’s hand.

Daveed’s chest was puffed out, proud that you decided to show affection. In front of the crew. 

This was a big step but he tried not to make it a big deal.  

You strolled together and admired the architecture, holding his hand until you walked to the shopping center on Barbosa Street.

They were going to check out a venue to do a show later in the weekend. Daveed didn’t want to let you go.

Rafa and Ant just walked on and let Daveed handle his business. 

“Go to work.” 

You smiling at him was everything, as Daveed played with your hand, moving it up to lace his fingers in yours and press your palm upright.

Jas and Craig went into the store.

“It’s not work. Having fun creating with friends…”  

Daveed really wanted to create fun with you. He felt like he should kiss you goodbye, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Bye Daveed.  See you in a few.” 

You laughed, cause it was like he was going off to war. This was too much.

“Bye Linden…” 

He finally let your hand go and then backed up the street in the direction that his bros went, not wanting to let you out of his sight. 

When you disappeared into the store, he turned and ran to catch up.

------

Rafa and Anthony were talking to the club owner in Spanish, Daveed following along, but not very well.  He thought they were talking about lighting and sound, but couldn’t get the entire conversation.

“Tienes tu propio gaffer o tenemos que hacer nuestra propia iluminación?”

“Nosotros tenemos un capataz, pero él cobra una tarifa separada.”

Daveed zoned out and planned how he was going to get closer to you.

Rafa turned to him and said something, and Daveed nodded. 

“Oh, absolutely.”

 He had not one clue what was happening in this club right now.  His mind was on you.  Rafa and Ant looked at each other.

“So, when they bring up the pigs in tutus, we cut one open and smear the blood all over you…” 

Anthony wanted to see if Daveed was paying attention.

Daveed smiled. “Sounds dope.”

Rafa and Ant shook their heads at him.

“Listen dude, your head is not in the game right now. You need to get right.”

They didn't have to tell him twice. 

------

You were going to town.  Craig and Jasmine had abandoned you and were already down at Pinkheart and Loft.  You were not moving from H & M.

You didn’t mind being alone in the store, as you minored in shopping in undergrad. You were in the zone. And zoned out from what was happening with Daveed. You needed some headspace.

Your hands were full of clothes and your heart was feeling light as you headed toward the dressing room. 

You could barely see over your pile when the cute top you just recently grabbed off a clearance rack fell on the floor as you rushed ahead.  You walked past it before you realized, then went back to try and pick it up.

You jumped as soon as you turned around.

Daveed was standing there with your top in his hand.

"Drop something?"  That smile was everything.

You stared at him wide-eyed. 

‘Fuck. Me.’ Daveed thought. 

"Here, let me take your pile, I'll help you to the register."

You smiled at him again. He'd do anything to see that smile forever.

"Oh, ok. Thanks." 

You handed over the clothes to reveal a handful of sandals underneath which you kept. Daveed slowed himself to appreciate you fully.

“I really like that shirt on you.” Daveed bit his lip. “And those shorts..”

You saw him checking you out and you watched him, your eyes fixed on his lips. 

You recalled the talk about what mouths could do from months ago but were thinking about his succulent lips. And you couldn’t stop.

You needed to remain in control.

"I'm not going to the register, I'm going to try these on.  You can drop them at the fitting room." 

Daveed looked around to tear his eyes away from you.  He caught you checking him out when he swung his eyes back around.  His stomach flipped a little.  

He smiled.

"Well."

You were at the fitting room, the attendant eyeing Daveed as he gave you a number and pointed you to a stall.  

You took the 10 garments you were allowed and started to go into to your fitting room, looking back at him over your shoulder. You disappeared into the room.

Daveed just stood there.

He made a decision.

You stood there for a minute, shook, before you thought you had yourself together. You were about to take off his shirt when Daveed opened the door at came in.

The look on your face was everything.  The wide eyes, that mouth in an "O." So damn fuckable.

"The guy out there said I could bring you the rest of your clothes."

That was true, after Daveed paid him 20 dollars.

He got close to you, reached behind you and put the clothes on the hook.

You could smell him. He smelled like the coconut and his cologne, and your dreams.  You closed your eyes.

Daveed wanted your lips. He wanted to own them, to command them, to hear them command him.

You opened your eyes and he backed up.  He tried to contain himself despite your proximity.

“Look. Daveed. That night. The launch party. I was wasted. I usually don’t lose control like that… I don’t want you to think that’s really me.”

You were keyed up and stressed because you were losing control.  He could tell.

God, he wanted to put his hands on you. In a good way. You’d calm down then.

He knew you had baggage.  And that he should probably stay away.  But he didn't want to.  Hell, he had matching luggage. 

"Well, I think it is you. I have a theory that people are more their real selves when they are drunk or high. Inhibitions are gone. They get to act out like they want to. Do what they want to."

Daveed looked into your eyes.

"What do you want to do, Lindy?"

You wanted to do a lot of things.  To Daveed. In this fitting room. You almost gave it all up for him right there.

Then you got mad. At Daveed or your feelings, you didn’t know.

"That's just it, adults don't get to do what they want to do all the time. It's called adulting, you know. Responsibilities...?" 

You fired back at him.

He opened his mouth and spoke.  To himself as well as you.

"Chill."

He said it gently, not raising his voice at all, but the force behind it made you shut the fuck up. 

Your knees were weak and the small of your back was acting up again. Your body was reacting without your permission. You shivered.

Daveed could tell you were reacting to him physically.  But he wanted inside your mind, not just your body. He was going to give you some space. 

He backed toward the door of the fitting room. Leaning against it, his long body in jeans and t-shirt delectable.

“What do you want, Linden?” 

His voice was deeper, more commanding now. You swallowed. You were exhausted from fighting it. Maybe you could have a taste.

“I-I want a kiss. Just a kiss.”

Daveed felt triumphant.  He smiled and looked down at his shoes, then back up at you.

“Come get it.”  

He was going to let you make the first move.

You bit your lip through a smile.  You walked the five steps toward him in slow motion it seemed, as you raised up on your tiptoes to reach up and peck his lips, your hands behind your back.  

Your lips met his pillowy goodness and you leaned back to look into his eyes.  

Then, you put your hands on his shirt, tracing his abs all the way up and going back in for more, Daveed’s tongue prodding it’s way between your lips, and your tongue dancing with his.

You moaned as Daveed put his hand on your hips and then slid them up the sides of his shirt, skimming your breasts, and resting under your arms as you two went for it. 

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he backed you into the wall. 

He palmed your ass in the shorts, his long fingers reaching inside the distressed rips and squeezing your ass. He spread you apart and squeezed you closed, so that his fingers barely grazed your core and drove you crazy.  

When you reached up and pulled his hair, that’s when he stopped kissing you, leaned his head against your forehead and breathed, “Fuck, Lindy. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You just looked at him and craned your neck for another kiss which he couldn’t deny, but then he stopped and let you down.

“What do you want Daveed?”

Daveed put his hand on the wall above your head. You looked up at it and at him and he had to remember to breathe.

“Fuck it. Linden, I want you. You know that.” 

You raised your eyebrow and smiled up at him, then bit your lip, playful. Daveed’s throat became dry.

“And I think that I know that you want me too. But I know it’s hard.”

Your eyes swept down his torso to his pants, and damn, well…if it wasn’t hard right now.

He cleared his throat.  “It’s hard for YOU.”  You smiled wide. 

He rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. It’s hard for you to be vulnerable, but Linden, I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The way he looked in your eyes. You couldn’t go there with him, but the physical was okay for now. You decided to indulge yourself.  It was almost your birthday.

“What if I want you... to hurt me?” 

The innocent look in your eyes masked the devilish intent in your words. Daveed, stomach flipped again and he screwed his eyes shut. He masked a whimper and opened his eyes again.

“Huh. Don’t play with me Linden.” The menacing tone of his voice was making you wet.

“But what if I want to play with you, Daveed?” 

You reached for his belt buckle; Daveed stopped you, grabbed your hand and put it above your head against the wall, his arms now caging you in. 

You raised your chin, meeting his glare with yours. His eyes were fucking you so rough right now. You had to open your mouth to breathe, your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip.

Daveed was looking as if he was going to devour you..  That mouth. He wanted to take it, but he restrained himself.  He had to know.

“Tell me. What. You. Want.”

You held his stare, the air around you crackling with energy.

“I want you Daveed.”

His smile was wide. Then he bent down, grabbed your thighs in his hand, picked you up and carried you to the mirror and pressing you against it, running his hands back down your body to your ass, cupping and grabbing it to memorize how it felt.

“We are NOT about to do this in the fitting room at H & M.  But somebody is going to cum. Right now.”

You kissed him as he ran his hands under your shirt to your nipples, pinching and rolling them in between his fingers as he kissed you again.

You started whimpering in your throat as you let him make you wet. 

“God, Daveed.”  

You kissed him again, but he did not stop what he was doing to your breasts.

“What?”  Daveed asked when you came up for air. “You wet?’

“Fuck yes.”  

You moaned as you threw your head back and huffed.

Daveed pulled his shirt up off your waist and exposed your breasts.  

“So fucking beautiful.”  

His mouth watered at the sight. Daveed licked his lips and leaned toward those beauties.

“Can I?”  Daveed paused.

“Please!” You whispered.  

He leaned down. His mouth got so close that you could feel his hot breath. Then he paused again.

“Please what?”

At first you could not think of what he was talking about. Then you got it.

“Please. Sir.”  

Your eyes sparkled under your lashes as you looked down. His dick got even harder.

“Such a Good Girl for me Linden. Fuck.”  

Damn, he had the key to your pussy.

Your wetness was leaking down your thigh, now reaching the tips of Daveed’s fingers.

Daveed proceeded to alternate his attention to each breast. Delicately at first, he kissed your nipples, then suckled them gently, then harder, more insistently, until his mouth was pulling at them rhythmically and firmly, to the point of almost hurting you.

You were groaning pretty loudly and Daveed released a nipple from his tightly clamped lips with an almost painful pop.

“Suck this,” he said, and put his thumb in your mouth, pushing your head back into the mirror. 

While still suckling you, he then moved his other hand down your body to your crotch and stuck his hand into the jean shorts, his long fingers grazing your folds, feeling a small patch of hair and your oh so slick lower lips. 

He looked up at you and how you were enthusiastically sucking his thumb, fellating it like it could cum down your throat.  That sight and feeling, combined with how you felt at your core, was fucking him up.

“Damn, Lindy? All this. For me? You sure?”

You nodded vigorously, his thumb deep in your mouth as he kept you pressed to the mirror. He found your clit and started rubbing, while inserting a finger into you. 

You were so fucking tight, it was a stretch to fit two in, but you were humming with pleasure now, your eyes rolling back in your head.

You nodded again, and as he pried your mouth open, your sounds became louder before he put his mouth on yours and kissed you, muffling your moans as his thumb and fingers worked in concert to bring you close to the edge. 

You tried to reach for his belt buckle again and he moved out of the way.

“Unh unh, it’s not about me right now.” 

Daveed grunted. He spun you around and had you face the mirror, his hand in your mouth and your pants, and his cock pressed into your ass.

It was big and your eyes matched it. You two stared at each other.

“Look at us.  Don’t we look good together? This should be a thing.”  

You watched what he was doing to you and it did look hot as fuck.

He pressed deeper into you through your pants.  He could feel you quiver on his fingers. 

“You want it Lindy?”

Daveed could feel your clit harden and vibrate like a guitar string.

“Maybe later, but you could cum… not now…” 

You whimpered around his thumb, but he sped up.  

“Not now…”

You were almost crying now. Daveed was smiling, his teeth bared against the shell of your ear, whispering his commands to you.

“NNNNot now….” 

Your legs were shaking from holding it.

“Good girl. Now cum.”  

Daveed spoke into your ear and you exploded from the inside out. It had been months since anyone else made you cum.

He reached down and grabbed you under your knees and sat down with you on the fitting room bench. You were draped around him like a vine, exhausted.

D held you for a few, taking care of you and waiting for his hard on to go down. You clung to him, eyes closed, trying not to panic. This was good. You wanted this.  And you told him so.

“Me too, Lindy.”  

He helped you stand and stood himself, standing behind you and watching you straighten yourself out in the mirror.  He pulled you back against him, wrapping his arms around your front and putting his chin next to your forehead.

“I meant what I said, Linden.  We look good together.  Let this be a thing.”  

You just smiled at him as you thought about the weekend to come.

-------

Read the Next Chapter

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[plaidbooks]

Dating Pains

A/N: So! I was looking through some old files and found this Sonny Carisi x reader story I wrote in September that I had completely forgotten about! After reading through it, I figured “this is actually pretty good, I can post that” so here’s part one of four(?).

Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, attempted drugging

Words: 3026

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

You puckered your lips, painting them with the bright red lipstick that you loved. You smacked your lips a couple times, smiling at your own reflection. You were in comfortable jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, and a loose shirt, the sleeves draped around your upper arms rather than your shoulders, bright red and orange flowers on the black material. Your makeup was simple, neutral, except for the lipstick—but you couldn’t help yourself, you loved the color.

It was a first date, and you didn’t want to over-do it by over-dressing. Besides, it was a first date with this guy, and you were running out of cute, clean clothes. But it was your third “first date” in two weeks; your friends had set up a Tinder account for you and had been forcing you to go out on these dates. At first, you were reluctant, unwilling to stoop so low as to use an app to find love. But, after about a month of trying it the “old fashioned way,”—you at bars and clubs, striking out over and over again—you gave in to their insistence. Though, most of the guys on Tinder only wanted hookups, and you wanted something, well, more. You were looking for love, as cliché as that was, and that was something your friends loved to tease you about.

“You can wait around and find love whenever, but why pass up a chance to get laid?” one of your friends asked. You had blushed and tried to fumble through an excuse about why you didn’t want a hookup, why you wanted a real relationship. It wasn’t like you were necessarily against having a one-night stand, but it just wasn’t what you were looking for.

It took weeks and a lot of weeding through shitty profiles and messages until you found at least someone that seemed interesting. Your first date was alright; he seemed nice, polite but there just wasn’t a connection there. You both agreed that there shouldn’t be a second date. The second man was a real estate agent. He was once divorced, from his high school sweetheart, lived on Staten Island, had finished paying off his college debt, and was debating going back for a BS in Computer Science since that’s where the real money was. You knew all about his family life, too, because never once did he stop talking about himself. When he asked for a second date, you politely declined. Then again, and again, until you finally had to block him. If you didn’t already have this third “first date” set up, you would’ve given up on Tinder entirely.

Looking yourself over once more, you headed out the door and towards the bar that you were meeting the man at, nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You had made sure you took screenshots of the man’s profile and messages, sent a picture of his profile picture to your friends, and told them where you were going. You were positive that serial killers didn’t use Tinder, but it was always better to be safe.

You made it to the bar and scanned the faces in the cramped space. Your date, Jerry, had said that he would be wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and black slacks, not that the dim lighting in the bar would help you tell the difference between the two colors. Your eyes did a full scan, not seeing anyone that looked familiar; maybe he was running late? Sure enough, you felt your phone vibrate, a message from Jerry saying that he was running behind and would be there in 5 minutes. Shrugging to yourself, you made your way to the bar, ordering a sprite and finding an open table. Being late wasn’t a deal-breaker for you, and at least he had messaged you.

You let your eyes wander through the crowd, people watching, and, if you were being honest with yourself, looking for anyone that looked attractive and hopefully alone…just in case this Jerry-guy didn’t work out. There were a couple of cute guys in the bar, but all of them seemed to be with someone, whether friends or with a girlfriend. Your eyes did settle on one man, though; he was tall, even when sitting, his hair carefully slicked back. In the dim bar lighting, it was impossible to tell if his hair was grey, blonde, or a light brown. He was in a blue, button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black striped tie, and a suit jacket was on the back of his chair. He had a beer in his hand, his long fingers wrapped around the dark bottle, with his head thrown back in laughter at something that one of the two women he was with said. One of the women was older, with long brown hair, who exuded command, even though she was also chuckling. The other woman was younger, closer to your age, with blonde hair that was tied back, beer in her hand and obviously the one cracking the jokes.

You looked away as you saw someone approaching your table out of the corner of your eye, smiling as you saw that it was Jerry—at least he matched his profile picture. You stood, giving him a polite hug, before you both sat. A waitress came up and took Jerry’s order, in which he also insisted you got a drink, too, to help loosen you both up. Not wanting to appear rude, you agreed; one drink wouldn’t make you drunk.

It took you about 5 minutes to realize that Jerry was the same, if not worse, than your last date was. He was incredibly full of himself, talking about how women just “didn’t get him” and how he was only on Tinder because he was “too busy” to actually go out and meet people. You were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom, planning to have a friend come save you, when he got up himself to go. While he was gone, you seriously contemplated leaving, but you couldn’t—you weren’t that mean. But you did instantly forget about texting a friend for help. Instead, your eyes travelled back over to the cute man with the slicked-back hair. You were shocked when you saw his bright blue eyes watching you. He quickly turned away, as did you, your cheeks flushing hot. You were too afraid to look back over, your face still feeling warm…warmer than a normal blush. You were looking hard at the table in front of you when you noticed that it was moving. Confused, you put your hand out to rest on it; it definitely wasn’t moving, but now the room looked like it was moving, shifting, and you felt like your skin was on fire now.

You stood suddenly, and almost went right back down. There was no way you were drunk, so what the hell was happening? You took a couple of stuttering steps before you felt hands on you, an arm wrapping around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, helping you up.

“You okay, honey?” Jerry asked, his fake, honey-covered voice concerned.

Your mouth moved, but you couldn’t form words. It was becoming hard to keep your eyes open, and you felt sweat forming on your forehead. You vaguely noticed him guiding you towards the door, out of the bar. Suddenly, a shadow was looming over you. You looked up, squinting at the figure above you. All you saw was slicked-back hair, and bright blue eyes, full of concern and a quiet rage.

“Sorry, man. My girlfriend just had a few too many,” Jerry was saying, trying to laugh it off. Something clicked in your sluggish brain. This is wrong, you thought, but your body wasn’t reacting to your mind. Without knowing what you were doing, you reached towards the tall, lanky man in front of you, who was now speaking harshly to Jerry. But you couldn’t understand the words. Your mind was fading fast, darkness coming to meet you.

You gathered all the strength you had left, and whispered into the loud, over-packed bar, “help me,” before the darkness overtook you.

 **********************

You woke up in a soft bed, sheets pulled up to your chest, the soft whirring of machinery around you. You squinted against the harsh light as you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinding you slightly. You groaned and pushed yourself up, your head pounding and your throat dry. You froze; you were obviously in the hospital, but you had no memory of getting there, or why you were there in the first place. You took mental stock of your body; besides a splitting headache, you felt fine. So why were you there?

“Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” a soft voice asked. You looked over and saw a nurse coming into your room, clipboard in hand. She didn’t wait for you to answer as she started playing with the machinery you were hooked up to.

“I-I’m alright,” you rasped, throat completely dry. She wordlessly poured you a glass of water on your side table and handed it to you. You gratefully took a sip, wetting your throat. “Head hurts, though.”

The nurse nodded as she took the glass back. “That’s normal.”

You cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Normal for what? Why am I here?”

The nurse seemed surprised for a moment before she realized. “Oh, of course you don’t remember. You were drugged last night; roofied.” Your heart sunk. You were roofied? How? You never left your drink unattended; how did someone sneak it in? And does that mean…? The nurse had continued talking, but you tuned out, mind and heart racing. She concluded with a little cup of pills for you to take, and now your heart really sunk. You knew that doctors gave women the morning after pill, as well as anti-STD pills after being assaulted. So, that must have happened to you, too, right? And you remembered none of it. Was it better that way?

“Are you alright, Ms. [Y/L/N]?” the nurse asked, looking at how you regarded the cup of pills. “It’s just eletriptan…for your headache?”

“Just—just headache pills?” you asked. The nurse smiled, nodding.

“Yes, just headache pills.” As she was heading out the door, she added, “oh! There were two SVU detectives here to see you. Can I let them in?”

Confused as to why two detectives wanted to talk to you, you nodded absentmindedly, taking the pills and downing them with a gulp of water. You had only a moment to think about it—SVU? Were you a Special Victim, even if you weren’t assaulted?—before they entered. The first detective that came in looked vaguely familiar; a young woman with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The second detective, though, made you pause. You had definitely seen him before, but you couldn’t place him. Tall, lanky, slicked-back, dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that pierced into yours with some sort of…guilt? Pity? It was hard to tell what was there.

“Have we met before?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. The expression in the man’s face intensified for the briefest moment before it was replaced with a cool professionalism.

“Uh, kinda,” the woman replied. “I’m Detective Rollins, and this is Detective Carisi. We met at the bar last night.” You thought about this, trying to will your still-aching mind to remember the events from the past night, but there was nothing there.

“Do you happen to remember anything from last night?” Carisi asked. “I mean, if you remember meeting us, maybe you remember more?”

You tried to go back through what you did remember from yesterday; getting lunch with friends, getting dressed for a date, putting on your favorite lipstick, then…nothing. Flashes of music and lights from the bar, but nothing more.

“I…don’t really remember much…. Do—do you know what happened to me? I—I remember leaving my house to meet a date, but then it’s all fuzzy—” you scrunched your eyes closed, trying to force your mind to work correctly.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. It’s normal to not remember after being roofied,” Rollins explained. “It may come back to you in the next couple days, and it may not. Do you remember who you were going on a date with?”

You sat for a moment before you remembered. “Oh! Where’s my phone? It was some dude on Tinder—I saved screenshots of his profile.��� You found your purse on the side table next to you and dug until you found your phone. You ignored the texts and missed calls from your friends, probably freaking out since you haven’t contacted them yet, and pulled up the pictures. “I went on a date with Jerry last night,” you said, showing the pictures to the detectives.

“This is perfect, definitely enough for a warrant,” Carisi replied, smirking and giving you an impressed glance. You felt the blush crossing your cheeks and fidgeted uncomfortably. “Can you text me those pictures?”

You agreed and he gave you his number. You tried to ignore the fact that you now had his personal cell phone number as you sent the photos to him, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Is it alright if we talk to you in a couple days? See if you remember anything?” Rollins asked, already making her way to the door.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said, watching them leave. Carisi gave you a small smile before he made it to the door. “Wait!” you called out, making him stop. Carisi stood in the doorway, brow furrowed as he looked at you. “Can you please tell me what the hell happened last night? Even if you only found me somewhere—I just, I need to know something. Was I…was I attacked--?”

Carisi’s eyes filled with a sadness; he was obviously upset that you couldn’t remember anything. He turned to look out the door. “You go on to Barba’s, get the warrant. I’ll meet up with you,” he said to his partner before coming back into the room. He pulled over the visitor chair and sat down next to your bed.

“I’ll tell you all I know; I was at the bar with my Lieutenant and Rollins after work when I looked over and saw you sitting there with Jerry. Now, Jerry looked like a suspect from a case I was working a couple months back. So, I was keeping an eye on ya, just in case.” He paused for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed that he admitted watching you, but all you were feeling right now was appreciation that someone had your back. Thank god he was there, had noticed something. “When you stood up, I knew something was wrong; you were swaying and looking like you were about to pass out. I told my Lieu, and we were coming over to make sure you were alright when Jerry came back. He was trying to tell us you were drunk, and he was going take you home. Right then, you collapsed, asking for help. My Lieu arrested Jerry right there, and Rollins and I brought ya here. But we couldn’t hold him, and we couldn’t prove he was the one to drug you. But, with your screenshots, hopefully we can check his place, find roofies in his possession.”

You sat there, dumbfounded with how incredibly lucky you had been that three NYPD detectives were there when you were drugged, and how bad it could’ve ended for you if they weren’t.

“Thank you, so much, Detective Carisi,” you managed, trying to think of something else to say.

“Please, call me Sonny,” he replied, smiling. You felt yourself melting at that smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though, concern was still deep in his expression. Then, a thought struck you.

“That case you were working on a month ago, that Jerry matched the description for. What did he do?”

Sonny suddenly seemed uncomfortable, unwilling to talk, considering how lengthy of a description he just gave you from the previous night. That wasn’t a good sign.

“We, uh, we were investigatin’ a man who would roofie a woman, then rape her and leave her…dead body in her own bed. The only connection he had to the victims were that they used Tinder. But he would delete his account before we could find it. All we had was security footage and some eyewitness accounts of the man.”

Your heart started beating faster at the words “dead body.” If Jerry was indeed this man, then you almost died last night. You didn’t quite know how to process that.

You were staring at the bright white of your bedsheets when you heard Sonny ask, “[Y/N], are you alright?” He dipped his head down, trying to get in your line of sight. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up to him.

“I—yeah, I just…I almost died?” your throat constricted on the last word. You felt hot tears in your eyes, and you blinked fast, trying to not let them fall. You really didn’t want to cry in front of this man, and not just because he was cute; you didn’t want to have a full breakdown in front of someone you didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now. ‘Sides, we don’t know for sure if Jerry’s our guy, or just some predator. Either way, we’ll get him, I promise you.” Sonny gave you another heart melting smile, before he stood up. “You have my number if ya need to talk, okay? Don’t be afraid to shoot me a text.”

You smiled as he left, shutting the door softly behind him. You already wanted to text him, but to ask him out to coffee, not to help you through your shock. But you also didn’t think that that was very appropriate, asking an SVU detective out after he saved you from being assaulted. Besides, your mind was reeling from the past 24 hours. First thing’s first, better text all your friends and let them know you were alive and unharmed. And then you were definitely deleting Tinder.

[thebookwormfairy]

Daminette/Maribat Fairy Tail Au Part 1

Marinette grew up in a world filled with magic

Although Marinette's own parents weren't wizards, but bakers, she inherited her Gramdfather Fu's magic, celestial magic

She was able to summon spirits to help her with the help of silver and gold gate keys

The silver gate keys are pretty common, as far as gate keys go

The gold keys were a lot more rare as there was only 12 of them

Marinette already had 3, Tikki spiritof creation, Plagg spirit of destruction and Wayzz spirit of protection

They were her Grandfather's keys and he passed them down to her when he retired.

She also had a magic yoyo gifted to her by Tikki after her Grandfather had given her Tikki's key when he started training her

So when Marinette turned 16 she decided to follow in her Grandfather's footsteps and join a boarding guild

She ended up joining the Miraculous Moth guild, a guild that had a large amount of members, but nothing like Justice League, who had almost half the amount of members, but was about 10x more powerful

Their guild stamp was a pointy looking moth

Marinette had decides to get hers on her left shoulder in red

The guild master was Gabriel Agreste

Nobody was really sure what type of magic he had, but there were always a new rumor floating around that said something different.

Some said he had transformation magic

Others said he had solid script magic

Few thought he had absolutely no magic at all

And het there was some who whispered that he was a celestial wizard

Marinette didn't give the rumors much thought

She was too busy getting to know her new guild mates

She made some great friends and even made up a team with Adrien (Gabriel's son), Alya, and Nino

They were a pretty good team

Adrien was an equip mage

He can summon different weapons and armor

Alya was a solid script mage

She can create create materials by writing words out in the air

And finally Nino was a sonic mage

He can produce and control sound waves and use it against enimies

They were called Team Adrien

Marinette joined their team a week after joining the guild

The three had already been a team before hand for a couple of years

So because of this Marinette felt like a stranger looking in sometimes

Either way they made a good team

Though they were a little destructive

Luckily for them Tikki can fix everything with her miraculous ladybug spell

They had a pretty good team for about a year than somebody new joined the guild

Her name was Lila Rossi and she was an illusionist mage

She claimed to be a great independent wizard and even was offered a spot at Justice League

She told stories about saving villages and people from evil wizards and monsters

Everybody was so amazed by her, but Marinette has her doubts

She couldn't explain it, but it was just a gut feeling, but Marinette tried to do her best to push that aside a welcome her with open arms

She even joined Team Adrien

And that's when stuff really went down hill for Marinette

Lila started to make sly remarks about Marinette and celestial wizards in general

Stuff like how she didn't really contribute to fights and instead just let her spirits do all the work

Even though Marinette fights whenever she can using her yoyo

Or how Marinette is the weakest on the team

Even though Marinette could now summon 2 spirits at once something most celestial spirits can't even dream of doing especially with golden keys

She tried to ignore it, but as time went on it hurt more and more

And when her friends started to join in she tried to change that

She started to try and cast star dress

Which would allow her to share her powers with her spirits

And gave her a cute outfit with that

Her team mates didn't seem to understand or appreciate her attempts to gain more strength

They started to leave her behind for missions

They cut her part of the rewards down claiming because she didn't do as much work as the rest if them so she doesn't deserves an equal amount of the reward

Sometimes they were just abandon her to finish a job by herself then demand their part of the reward even though Marinette did all the work

The final straw came after a very dangerous mission

They were going up against a dark wizard who was kidnapping young women and selling them them into the slave trade

They took the job because the reward money was ridiculous and a golden gate key

So the team decided to use Marinette as live bait

Because she would get such a great prize for the mission

Which she was okay with

And she was successful in luring him out and was going to fight him until she realized her yoyo was gone

She then checked her keys and they were gone too

Marinette panicked and tried to hold the dark wizard back the best she can while yelling for her teammates

They didn't show up

In a last ditch effort Marinette tried to use star dress magic

Marinette: STAR DRESS LADYBUG!

Marinette felt a rush of magic fall over her

It had work

She was now wearing a read flowie dress that fell a couple of inches above her knees with a black ribbon tied around her waist and black fingerless gloves

Her hair was now down with a red headband and black flats on her feet with a new red and black pock a dot yoyo

She used her new yoyo to tie the creep up and her team finally showed up

Marinette: WHERE WERE YOU GUYS AND WHO HAS MY KEYS?!?!

Alya: Chill girl Lila pointed out that the wizard wouldn't go after somebody with magic items on them so we just grabbed them before you left

Alya held out Marinette's keys and yoyo and Marinette snatched them out of her hands checking everything over

Marinette: THAT IS SOO STUPID!!! YOU GUYS ALMOST GOT ME KILLED OR WORST

Adrien: Calm down Marinette

Marinette: DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!

Lila *tearing up*: Come on Marinette we weren't that far away

Marinette: I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! I'M SO DONE WITH ALL OF YOU RIGHT NOW!

Alya: Stop being such bitch Marinette you're fine and look you finally did that stupid star dress thing you were trying to do

Nino: Yeah dudette if you're going to be like that maybe Lila should get that gate key instead of you.

Marinette just glared at the group and used Plagg to help her drag the wizard to the Grand Council gourds that were posted in the town

She dropped him off got the reward money and the gate key

It was the Key of Illusion Trixx

When her teammates asked where their shares were Marinette just glared at them again

The whole trip back was her team criticizing her about keeping the money for herself

Marinette remained silent during the whole ride back

When they got back to the guild Lila cried to anybody who would listen about how mean and selfish Marinette was for keeping the money

Marinette ignored her and walked up to Gabriel

Marinette: Sure I would like to resign from this guild

Gabriel: Are you sure Ms. Dupen-Cheng?

Marinette: Yes after today I don't feel welcomed her any more

Gabriel: Well it'll be a shame to lose a wizard with such assets. Are you sure about this?

Grabiel looked down at the keys rested on Marinette's hip before looking back at Marinette's eyes

Marinette: Yes I'm sure

Grabiel snapped his fingers and Natalie, his second in command, removes her guild mark

Marinette walked out of the guild receiving sneers and nasty remarks from her ex-guildmates

She walked out and never looked back

She went to her home town to live with her parents and help out with the backery

She needed a break from guilds and other wizards

So she and sometimes her spirits would help her parents out

Well Tikki, Wayzz and Trixx did Plagg mostly just ate all the cheese pastries

Marinette kept training though she even made it so she can do Dtar dress with Plagg and Wayzz

Her bound with Trixx wasn't strong enough to complete star dress with him yet

After a couple of months Marinette was walking through town when she bumped into 2 boys

Both boys had black hair and looked around the same age

But one had blue eyes and was paler than his partner whi had green eyes

Damian: Sorry miss but you'll have to come with use there's no time to lose

Damian grabbed Marinette's hands and continue running with his partner Jon

Marinette: What's going on?

Jon: We're wizards on a mission to stop a dark guild who's top members are currently chasing us, so we're trying to lead them away from the populated area to avoid casualties

Marinette: Okay there's a short cut to outside of town, This way!

Marinette pulled Damian down an alley with Jon following the 2

Marinette could hear the sounds of crashing at the entrance of the alley assuming it was the dark guild members

They burst out of the alley into the open field next to the town

They made it to the end of the field before they had to face the evil wizards

Marinette looked over the group of eight wizards

Each one looking tougher than the last

Damian: Get out of here miss we can take

Marinette: No way there are way to many people for the just the 2 of you

Jon: what can you do to help?

Hearing that lit a fire in Marinette

Marinette: This! Open gate of creation, Tikki!

Damian and Jon watch with surprise as Tikki appeared in front of them

Tikki: I'm here to help

Marinette: Tikki we're going against a team of dark wizards be ready for anything!

Damian: You're a cestial wizard?

Marinette: Yep and that's not all I can do. Star Dress Black Cat!

Marinette was surrounded by a bright light

When it faded she was wearing black combat boots with neon green thigh high socks

Black shorts with a neon green belt

And a black tank top with a hood attach that had cat ears on it, with the inside of the hood being neon green

Her hair was still in pigtails but now were resting in front of her shoulders

In her hands laid a bo staff

Damian in wonder and Jon a little scared: Wow

With Marinette's celestial magic, Jon's fire God-slaying magic, and Damian shadow dragon slaying magic they were able to take down the wizards with ease and soon all the dark wizards were capture

The group of teens handed over the wizards to the guards before they finally have a proper introduction

Marinette: I'm Marinette by the way, Marinette Dupen-Cheng.

Jon: Nice to meet you Marinette, I'm Jon Kent and this is my partner Damian Wayne

Damian grabbing Marinette's hand and kissing the back of it: It's a honor to meet such a powerful and kind wizard

Marinette blushing: O-oh I don't know about that, I'm not that powerful and anybody would have jumped in

Damian: I'm not so sure about that

Marinette ended up inviting the two back to the backery for a free lunch

They continue to talk just getting to know eachother

And a good amount of flirting went on between Marinette and Damian

They were laughing and joking around and Marinette felt like she gained something she lost when she left her team

They continue their conversation as they make it to the backery

Marinette introduces them to her maman and papa before taking them upstairs to make lunch for all of them

They continue to laugh and joke around and Damian insisted on helping Marinette cook

Jon: But you're an awful cook, you go around eating people's shadows before you cook.

Marinette: Eating shadows?

Damian *blushing*: Yes I'm a shadow dragon slayer, so when I get hungry I can eat shadows or darkness

Marinette: I thought all the dragon slayers were in the Justice League guild

Jon: Yeah that's our guild

Jon pulled down his shirt to show his blue guild mark which looked like a J and L put together with a star in the middle

Damian rolled up his sleeve to show his green guild mark on his left forearm

Marinette: You guys are a part of Justice League?!?! Oh no I must be holding you guys up! I'm so sorry!

Damian: Oh no, not at all! We're really not that busy! Right Jon

Damian gave Jon a pointed look as if it say not to upset the cestial mage

Jon: Right! We have plenty of time especially with the help you gave us today. We thought we would have to be here another week at least, thanks to you we can leave tomorrow

Marinette turning around to continue cooking: Well I'll be sorry to see you go

Damian grabbing Marinette and turning her around holding her by her shoulders: Then why don't you come with us? You said yourself you don't have a guild and you're way too talented just to stay here all your life

Marinette: I don't know I don't think I'm powerful enough to join Justice League

Damian: Are you crazy? You're more than powerful enough!

Jon jumping up: Yeah! And you can be apart of our team! If we stick together nothing can stand on our way!

Marinette still wasn't too sure until she felt her keys warm with encouragement from her spirits

Marinette: Okay I'll join you!

Damian and Jon smiled and Jon raised his hand for a high five, which Damian didn't reciprocate but Marinette did

Marinette turned back to continue cooking as Damian continue to pester her to help

Marinette finally relented and told him to chop the veggies

After lunch the two boys left for their hotel telling Marinette to meet them at the train station tomorrow at 11

That night Marinette told her parents her plans and they were over joyed for her

To them Marinette started to look like a cage bird staying in the bakery longing to spread her wings but start in a small cage

The next day Marinette packed up all her things and met the boys at the train station

The trip was long it felt even longer because poor Damian had motion sickness like all dragon slayers

At one point he ended up resting his head on Marinette's lap which seemed to help him a bit so Marinette's just let him stay there

As soon as the train stopped Damian perked up

They made it to the city of Gotham just in time for dinner

Jon dragged Damian and Marinette down the streets of Gotham determined to get her to join as soon as possible

Damian: Calm down Kent I want her to join just as badly as you do, but I don't think pulling her arm out of her socket will make her move any faster

Jon: I'm just so excited! Just wait until you meet everyone Marinette they'll love you! One of the guild master's mother was a celestial wizard like you, even owned Tikki before

Marinette: Guild Masters?

Damian: Yeah our guild instead of having only 1 master has 5. Because we have so many powerful members they felt it wouldn't be right for 1 person to have so much power, so instead we have 5

Marinette nodded her head in understanding

The rest of the walk to the guild was filled with Jon's babbling about Justice League and what Marinette could expect

When they made it to the front of the guild hall Marinette froze

All the bad memories from her old guild came flooding back

And with that all her worries about being accept came back with

Marinette was spiralling until she felt another hand engulf her smaller one

Marinette looked up to see Damian with a soft look on his face

Damian: Don't worry Angel you'll be great, and no matter what you'll have me and Jon right by your side

Marinette blushed at Damian's nickname for her looking over at Jon when she feels him take her other hand

Jon: He's right Mari you have us, no matter what

Marinette smiled squeezing the boys' hands before letting go of Jon's, but keeping a hold on Damian's hand

Not that he minded or planned on letting her hand go either

They opened the doors to the guild and found utter choas

There seemed to be some sort of brawl going on among the younger members

The guild hall was two stories and as Marinette looked up on the second floor she can see the older members of the guild calmly eating and chatting ignoring the antics of the younger members

Marinette stared as Damian and Jon maneuvered her around the guild pulling her down to avoid the bodies being thrown and Damian lifted her up to avoid one of the guild members who were sent skidding along the floor

They finally made it the bar area were Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, and Diana Prince stood watching the choas

Damian: Hello Father I have brought a new wizard to join the guild

Dick from across the guild: WHAT?!?!

Tim from another part of the guild: DAMIAN BROUGHT A GIRL HOME!

The members cheered and Marinette and Damian stuttered saying it wasn't like that

But it was too late Damian got pulled into the chaos by his brother loudly protesting and somehow joining in the brawl

Bruce sighed: So you wish to join Justice League Ms...

Marinette: Marinette, Marinette Dupen-Cheng

Jon talking to Clark: And she's really powerful dad, she helped us take down that dark guild we were sent to stop

Diana: And what magic do you wield little one?

Marinette: I'm a celestial wizard and I can also preform star dress with some of my spirits

Diana impressed: And what keys to you have?

Marinette: I have a few silver one, the clock and the cross, and I have 4 golden keys, Tikki, Plagg, Wayzz, and Trixx. I can do star dress with all of the gold ones except Trixx out bond isn't strong enough yet.

Diana: That's very impressive. You know my mother used to hold Tikki's key before she retired and gave it to her dear friend Fu Cheng

Marinette smiling: He's my grandfather, sadly he passed a couple of years back.

Diana: I'm sorry to here about your lost, but if Fu entrusted you with Tikki and his other spirits you must be a powerful wizard. I vote we let her join

Marinette: Thank you

Clark: If my son says she's worthy that's all I need, I say yes to

The two guild masters looked over to Bruce waiting for his answer

Bruce: I can sense a large amount of magic and magic potential in you. It's a yes from me to, and since that makes a majority we are pleased to welcome you into Justice League. As soon as Damian escapes his brothers he can help give you a guild mark

Marinette looked around scanning for Damian giggling when she finds him in a tousle with 3 other boys who she assumes are his brothers

Dick was holding Damian in a headlock as Damian clung to Tim's back pulling his hair as Tim tried to pin Jason to the floor as Jason tried to pull Dick down with him

Jon laughing with her: Yeah those are our dragon slayers. You of course know Damian. Dick is the one putting him in the headlock, he's a light dragon slayer and a great acrobat. Damian probably gets along the best with him out of all his brothers. The boy who's getting his haired pulled out by Damian is Tim he's a lighting dragon slayer, but can also do solid script magic and barely sleeps. I swear one time I saw him eat straight coffee beans. Finally the boy with white streak in his hair trying to pull Dick down with him is Jason. He's a metal dragon slayer who prefers to use his magic to make weapons. He's the only one of the brothers who isn't on a specific team. He usually just tags along with whatever team he feels like or goes on solo missions.

Damian sensing Marinette staring at him looks towards her blushing

He shakes his brothers off him trying to make his way over to Marinette only to be stop by Jason

Jason grabbing Damian's waist: wait a moment Demon Spawn we're not done with you yet!

Damian thrashing around: Release me Todd!

Tim messing with Damian's hair: Aww are we embarrassing you in front of you girlfriend?

Damian: stop it Drake!

Dick stepping in: All right guys that's enough we don't want to ruin Hatchlings (a/n: Get it because they're dragon slayers) chances with his girlfriend

Damian finally breaks away from his brothers rushing over to Marinette and Jon

Damian: Sorry about that my brothers are idiots. How did it go?

Marinette: They said I could join, Mr. Wayne said you could help me with my guild mark

Damian: Of course come with me

Damian grabbed Marinette's hand pulling her towards a side room as Jon went to go talk to his brother Connor

Marinette decided to get a pink guild mark on the top of her right hand

Marinette seemed to fit right in with the rest of the guild

There was no adjustment period like with her old guild she seemed to be able to join in right away

She learned when a brawl was about to start up and how to avoid flung guildmates

Though Damian still insisted on lifting her over skidding bodies

She and Diana formed a close bound that started with Diana telling her stories about her mother and Tikki and it evolved in a mentor/mentee relationship

Marinette also joined Damian Nd Jon's team helping keep them focus on missions and stop the few fights that broke out between them

Sometimes Damian's brothers would "kidnap" Marinette to go on missions with them which usually lead to Damian running after them and Jon following Damian

Marinette became close friends with Dick's girlfriend Kori, Barabra, and Stephanie

They would sometimes go on girl only missions together

When they return they would often find Dick, Tim, and Damian sulking that they were left behind

That's the end of part 1, I hate to do this to you guys, but I learned there is a limited to dots and it's 250. I'll do a part 2 soon because there is still more to tell. Part 2

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Why do you think Tomarry would work? I see a lot of people hating on it and the only response I ever see is that they come from similar backgrounds or people just like enemies to lovers. Also which horcrux do you think Harry would go best with (including Voldemort)

So, this is probably a more complicated question than you intended, but that’s because I live in bizarre head canon lands that few ever dare venture towards.

With that, let’s get started.

But What Do You Really Ship, Muffin?

First, it probably bears saying that I’m not really a Tomarry shipper. I know, I’ve written more than one Tomarry story, so if that’s not Tomarry what is? Well, remember that those Tomarry pairing tags are a filthy lie. October I committed the grievous sin of breaking up the Tomarry and throwing Tom at Harry’s mother. Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus is barely a Harry Potter fic in any capacity, and while the ship is the driving force of the fic, it’s also this nebulous, distant, thing that really shows up only in strange side stories where I try to make people laugh. When Harry Met Tom is probably the closest that I take seriously, but I also intentionally subvert all your typical Tomarry tropes for my own enjoyment. 

The only Tomarry story I’d say I’ve ever actually written is “The Burning Taste of Fire Whisky”. It’s a very popular story, sadly perhaps my most popular on Ao3, but I actually loathe it entirely. 

A lot of the time I feel like I just happen to have a Tomarry shirt on and then I suddenly became a subject matter expert. If you want the Tomarry opinions from real Tomarry people, I’m probably not the best person to ask. In fact, if you want really any standard answer about Harry Potter anything, I’m not the best person to ask.

Now, I’m not just saying this to be a hipster but to sort of give some background for why I’m going to give the answer I’m going to give and why it’s going to be 100% different from everyone else’s and yes, sometimes, I do think I came from Mars.

Will the Real Tomarry Please Stand Up?

So with that, the bottom line is: taking canon as JKR intended, completely at face value, Tomarry doesn’t work at all. This is because JKR fully intends a very flat, one-dimensional, and frankly quite boring Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle’s evil, Tom Riddle was born evil, Tom Riddle was evil in the womb because of rape. He is completely and utterly irredeemable and understands nothing of love.

Well, that sort of sinks the ship right out of the harbor, doesn’t it? A Tom Riddle incapable of love is one incapable of growth, especially in a romantic focused story. If you try to write it you just get weird sociopathic whump porn where Tom probably whips Harry in a closet somewhere.

Added onto this we get that, despite what she put down on paper, Harry is supposed to be a straight man. That aside, he’s also a righteous man whose understanding of things like love and friendship mean he’d never sully himself with gross Tom Riddle. Ew, what are you people thinking?

Well, what if we take canon just mostly as JKR intended? What if we just look at the characters the way she actually wrote them versus what she was trying to do? Still no dice.

Tom might now be capable of love, be a far more engaging character who can go somewhere, and be pulled out of a pit of rage and despair by someone but that someone ain’t Harry.

First, while I firmly believe Harry is gay (gay, not bisexual, compare his descriptions of Cho/Ginny to Tom Riddle/Sirius Balck/Cedric Diggory/Charlie Weasley, that boy pants after Tom Riddle and Cho’s kiss is “wet”) he’s also a much worse person and much dumber character than JKR intended. It’s really the first that damns the pairing.

I have a whole giant post on how Harry’s a little yikes but the long and short of it is that while Harry thinks he understands friendship and love he’s also someone who will cut out his friends at a moment’s notice if he feels remotely slighted, uses and sacrifices them for his own ends, gleefully uses unforgiveable curses when given the opportunity, and is the kind of guy who would cut someone up in the bathroom, leave them to bleed to death, and only really feel bad about it when it seems he might get in trouble for it.

This Harry ending up even with a Tom who could potentially be redeemed would more likely lead to, well, weird psychopathic whump porn where Harry tortures Tom in his basement to make him pay for all the horrible things he’s done while Harry claims he’s the most moral person ever because his mother loved him.

So, yeah, no Tomarry for you.

But Wait, Didn’t You Say You Believed in Tomarry?

What I believe in are archetypes.

Remove what Harry’s supposed to be, remove what I think he actually is (one maladjusted, violent, dude with a whole lot of anger issues), let’s make Harry what perhaps JKR didn’t even know she wanted: one of those rare fundamentally good heroes who warps an entire story with the strength of their inner nobility.

Harry Potter is meant to be a story about love and friendship. Now, it’s not actually, and we sort of end with Harry being Jesus and none of us are sure why. Except that he apparently forgives Dumbledore and Snape for brainwashing him to be a kamikaze agent. They’re the bravest men he knows. But let’s pretend it actually is a story about love and friendship.

To me, the strongest story of love we could possibly have had in this world is the redemption of Tom Riddle. Here is a man who was supposed to have been irredeemable since birth, he has done many horrific and unforgiveable things, grew up in extreme hardship in a society that spits on everything he ever was, and is mired in bitterness, despair, and rage. Beneath all that, Tom Riddle has given up hope in the world and is now content to burn it down himself.

Harry, through the nobility of his spirit and integrity of his character, somehow managing to redeem Tom Riddle is not only a fascinating story but a very good one at its core. The fact that they are tied together by destiny as well as tragedy, that Harry houses a shard of Tom’s soul (and I do so love horcruxes), only makes it more so.

This is the kind of story that carries epics, and that is why I gravitate towards it.

Now, do I change Harry up to do so? Good god, yes. I wouldn’t say any Harry Potter I have written is anything close to the Harry we know from canon. Some are closer than others, but they always in some way deviate. That said, from what I’ve seen almost nobody writes the actual Harry we remember from canon, so this is a very standard practice I can get away with, without too many people calling foul.

Ultimately ending in tragedy or in the full redemption of Tom: either works with these base characterizations and the world is your oyster.

What About All Those Other Arguments?

I’m not going to get into this too much except that I wouldn’t argue Tomarry works for the reasons you list. At all.

On the similar backgrounds, the fact is Harry and Tom don’t have similar backgrounds, JKR just says they do because she likes that trope (and so do many of the readers).

Harry and Tom have dark hair, they both came from abusive homes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Upon entering the wizarding world Harry is treated very very very differently from Tom Riddle.

Harry, grows up in this weird sort of pseudo poverty where he dresses in rags because the Dursley’s hate him but he never actually has to worry about money. When he gets to the wizarding world he can afford everything he wants. He can buy a new wand, he can buy new supplies, he can buy all the candy off the trolly cart. Money’s not an object to Harry, is barely even a concept.

Tom Riddle is presumably on scholarship and money is everything to him. He buys a new wand but likely all his clothes and books are second hand. He can’t buy whatever candy he wants, probably can’t afford gifts for his peers, Tom is very aware of the haves and have nots.

Harry similarly never has to worry about a career. He never gets that far, fearing for his life so much, but the fact is that Harry has enough money that he doesn’t actually need to work. More, who would turn down the great Harry Potter? He wants to be an auror, is afraid he might not qualify, but it’s not really desperate.

Tom Riddle is to the world an impoverished muggle born. He tries for the Defense position and is turned down mostly because Dumbledore threw shade. Dumbledore tries to make it seem like Tom desperately wanted to work in this weird shop in London’s magical back alley, but probably that was the only position Tom could get (everything Dumbledore ever says, especially in those pensieve lessons, must be taken with a large grain of salt). Everything else goes to friends, family, and purebloods.

Adding to this, Harry has this glowing reputation. Now, Harry might not like it, he might want to be just Harry but the fact is that everyone has heard of him and most people worship the ground he walks on. Doors are open to him everywhere. His first introduction to the wizarding world is from a man who loves him and gushes about Harry as a baby.

Tom Riddle is someone with a muggle last name, who comes from a muggle orphanage, in other words he is nobody from nowhere. (For reasons I won’t get into here I find it very doubtful Tom ever revealed he was the heir of Slytherin until he became Voldemort and let Tom Riddle fade into obscurity). His first introduction to the wizarding world is some asshole lighting all his stuff on fire because the matron talked shit about him.

Harry wants to stay at Hogwarts because the Dursleys are abusive. Yes, this is terrible, but Tom wants to stay because Nazis are bombing London and Dippet says, “So sorry, Tom, no exceptions. Enjoy those luffas!” Harry’s concerns are never treated with the same disdain.

To make a long story short, they do not have similar backgrounds, at all. To say they do is utterly laughable and not much better than saying “they both have dark hair, they have so much in common!”

They both came from abusive homes, yes, but even the nature of those homes were very different and when they went to Hogwarts they were worlds apart.

... So much for not getting into it, eh?

As for Enemies to Lovers, well, it’s a trope and people enjoy it but it’s not my jam. I could go into why, but I think I’ve said enough.

Which Horcrux Do You Think Harry Would Go Best With?

We see so little of the individual horcruxes I’m not sure I can really take a stab at this. I sort of just make up their personalities as it suits me every time I write them.

With that I suppose I’m partial to the one in Harry’s head? Given that he has a front row seat to Harry, has seen Voldemort’s tragic demise, I think he’s in the best position to end up with Harry in a meaningful manner.

Especially as, if you think about it, he could represent the very last of Tom Riddle’s humanity. The single shard of humanity that remained in him until the bitter end.

[self-loving-vampire]

Fallout: A Post-Nuclear Role-Playing Game (1997)

The Fallout series is currently kind of a big deal, but to date I think the very first game has the strongest atmosphere out of all of them. From the start, this game did many things right and expanded the way choice and consequence figured into the RPG genre.

I recommend playing it with the Fallout Fixt mod.

Summary

Fallout is, unlike the more modern games in the series, an isometric RPG with turn-based combat and a much heavier inspiration from tabletop roleplaying games.

Rather than using a fantasy setting as is the standard for this type of game, Fallout takes place in a post-apocalyptic world with a retrofuturistic aesthetic and a more mature atmosphere. This automatically made it stand out from the crowd, and then the game’s approach to quest design and character-building solidified its place as a classic.

Freedom

In terms of player freedom, there are few games that manage to even reach the same level as this one.

When designing Fallout, the developers tried to include at least three potential solutions to many of the problems the player may encounter, using the game’s robust character creation system to allow all kinds of characters to have options for how to proceed.

For example, an early quest involves rescuing a girl from a raider gang. Your options include fighting your way in and out of the place, using stealth to sneak to where she is and pick (or blow up) the lock, use your speech skill to intimidate the raider into releasing the her, purchasing her freedom, defeating the raider leader in a one-on-one unarmed fight, or even impersonating the leader’s father for her release.

To be clear, not all quests have quite this many options, but there’s still usually a few, including some that may not be obvious when playing certain kinds of characters.

This famously extends to the end of the game, where it is possible to overcome the final challenge without engaging in combat.

On top of quests having multiple solutions, the world itself is completely open, gated only partially by the fact that certain areas are populated by more powerful monsters (and even then, it is possible to avoid them).

While there’s never enough options and I can think of a couple of places where I wish I could have had different ones (such as during the very last conversation in the game), the game is generally doing a lot of things right on this front, especially for its time.

Many of the game’s factions and settlements also have various different endings depending on the player’s actions.

Character Creation/Customization

This is another aspect of the game that won over many RPG fans. The character creation uses the SPECIAL system, invented for this series following licensing issues with GURPS. 

It is a versatile system with three main components: Your SPECIAL stats (Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck), your skills (three of which can be tagged at the start of the game, gaining a bonus and increasing faster), and your traits.

Traits in particular were optional features that would grant your character both a bonus and a penalty. For example, the Fast Shot trait makes some of your attacks faster (consuming less action points) but at the cost of being unable to make targeted shots.

And it does not stop there. Fallout had “Perks” that could be gained every 3 levels, which could grant a variety of rewards, some of them very significant. For example, the Better Criticals perk makes your critical hits more devastating, sometimes even enabling them to become instant-kill attacks regardless of the target’s remaining HP. From what I understand, this perk system may have been the genesis of D&D’s feat system too.

However, the real strength of this character system lies in how the game implements it. Both your stats and your skills will affect what dialogue options you have available and what actions you can successfully take in the game world.

This might sound like it should be the default for any RPG, but you might be surprised to know how many games, even otherwise very good ones, don’t seem to even try to implement something like this. 

Many other games, even today, don’t let you specialize your character in any way outside of combat. All characters have access to all options and your stats don’t affect anything but combat.

It’s not all positive, however. There are some balance issues to be found.

In particular, Intelligence and Agility are overpowered, as is the Gifted trait. There are also many skills, traits, and perks that are of marginal usefulness at best. Skills like Throwing, Traps, or Gambling (for example) just don’t come up very often or provide meaningful advantages over other skills even accounting for the fact that a pretty low gambling skill is enough to gain essentially infinite money.

Story/Setting

This is really the part that draws people to the series in the first place. There’s just not that many post-apocalyptic RPGs out there (Wasteland and UnderRail come to mind).

The story is relatively simple. Nuclear war has largely destroyed civilization, your ancestors survived by hiding in an underground shelter called a Vault, but the water processing chip broke and now you have 150 days to find a replacement before your entire community dies of dehydration.

The search of this replacement has you leave the vault for the first time in your life and explore the wastes, and the many diverse communities that have begun to grow and rebuild in it.

Many mutated creatures inhabit post-nuclear California, and you soon discover an even greater threat in the horizon. However, this is not an RPG about dungeons and monsters. Most of your time will be spent in various settlements, dealing with other humans.

Immersion

Pretty good overall, though still not on the level as some of my other favorites like Ultima 7 or Gothic 2. The game has day/night cycles and a few simple NPC schedules that help add some life to it, but for the most part what carries this aspect is the game’s solid worldbuilding and the relative reactivity of its setting.

One areas that detracts from the game’s immersion somewhat is the limited animations. For example, NPCs don’t actually “sleep” in their beds, they only stand next to them at night.

Some NPCs don’t seem to have schedules at all either, remaining roughly in the same state and location throughout the day.

However on the net I’d say this is still a rather immersive game, especially if you can apply a bit of your imagination to make up for the lack of animations and background details (some more text descriptions of certain locations could have helped here probably).

One place I particularly liked the first time I played was Junktown, as a couple of quests and events there felt very spontaneous to my then-young mind.

Gameplay

As previously explained, there are a variety of non-combat options throughout the game. In particular I really like how the dialogue works, especially when you compare it to the approach taken in Fallout 3, Fallout 4, and even New Vegas.

In the first two Fallout games, you do not get a [Speech] tag pointing to the optimal dialogue options. You have to think for yourself about what the most persuasive thing to say is, and what your skill does is make the option show up at all. If your skill is not high enough then the option will be not only unavailable but hidden.

I prefer this to the game outright telling you that one of your skills is tied to a dialogue option, as in practice it ends up being the same as marking that option as the correct one most of the time.

And then there’s the combat. A lot of people don’t seem to like it, but I actually think it works fine as long as you set the speed to max as the animations are a bit slow by default.

Besides the speed issue (which is easily fixed), the main complaint about the combat is that it is overly simple. This is not entirely wrong, as even though there is a wide variety of weapons to play with there is not actually that much variety in combat actions: Move, attack, targeted attack, open inventory (for healing), and sometimes burst mode make up over 95% of what you will be doing from start to finish.

There are still some tactics involved in positioning yourself and taking cover from enemy fire, as well as making good use of targeted shots to cripple the enemy. However, the fact that you have no manual control over your party members limits this front. Party members in general are both unintelligent and quickly left behind in the base game, as they don’t improve or equip better armor. The mechanics for equipping them are also rather janky.

However, combat does have its positives too. The idea of targeted shots is great, as are the accompanying critical descriptions. The animations and sound effects also make combat extremely satisfying, every hit that lands seems to carry a real weight to it.

There is also some nice variety to the death animations. Where more recent games in the series largely just have people’s body parts explode or instantly transform them into piles of ashes/goo, Fallout 1 and 2 feel like they have much more in this department.

Aesthetics

While the non-combat animations are not too good, there is a lot to like about the general art style of the game, from the architecture to the incredible talking heads various NPCs have.

The atmosphere of the game is also amazing, not only due to the way it looks but also because of the dark and ominous soundtrack (give me this over 50s music any day) that helps make the world feel appropriately desolate and perilous.

Even just the game’s intro shocked a generation and clearly marked Fallout as something dark and different.

However, this game’s atmosphere goes beyond sight and sound. The gameplay helps to heighten it. Combat is very lethal even if not always difficult, and the lack of clear initial directions beyond “Try Vault 15″ also helps the players feel appropriately lost until they find a lead.

The talking heads in particular have aged extremely well. I would say they even look better than a lot of modern RPG graphics.

Accessibility

The same lack of direction I just praised might be off-putting for some, and while the game is mechanically very simple there is no tutorial. This alone can make some modern players fail to understand some of the core mechanics.

The quest log is also rather non-descriptive, so it can be easy to lose track of some details unless one takes some additional notes outside the game.

However, the game’s manual is not only complete and written for people new to RPGs, it’s also quite fun to read. A lot of people these days just don’t seem to think of the manual as something they should look at, but it helps to keep in mind that older games typically require it.

Don’t let the size of it discourage you either. You don’t need to read the whole thing at once and a lot of it is fluff or things you might already know from other games (like how to load or save your game). Just look at the index and see what might be good to know from the start.

Conclusion

It should be no surprise when I say that this is a game entirely worth playing, whether you are an existing fan of the series or not. Like many of the other games that I have reviewed and will review in the future, this one has great historical significance on its own on top of having many positives even when compared to the more modern games in the series, especially in terms of aesthetics.

Furthermore, the game is pretty short. It can easily be completed in about 20 hours or less for a first playthrough, and yet it offers so much more than that due to the many options and replayability it provides.

There is really no other game quite like this. Not even the few other post-apocalyptic RPGs that exist, not even other games in the same series (including Fallout 2). I would call this one of my favorites.

[marmolady]

A Ride to Remember (Estela x MC)

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC

Summary: Endless Ending.  As Estela continues to help Taylor along her road to recovery after freeing Vaanu's essence, she shares with her a bittersweet part of her life in San Trobida.

Word Count: 3255

Chronology: carries on from ‘The New Taylor’, precedes ‘Inheritance’.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove 

“Okay, sit naturally, with your back straight, and I’ll adjust the stirrups to the right length.”

Taylor shifted her position on a small, grey horse until she was comfortable. “Well, I’m up, and I haven’t fallen off yet, so I guess that’s a good start.”

Estela chuckled as she fiddled with the saddle. “We’ll take it slow. It’s good for your core strength and your balance, which will be really important for you. I read that it’s actually helpful for your circulation and for relaxing . The movements should sort of gently work your joints and muscles, and I think your spine too. As low-impact exercise, it’s pretty hard to beat-- unless you fall off.”

“I’ll just… try and avoid that, then.” Taylor patted the horse’s neck, swallowing her nerves. She’d ridden a freaking yeti; this should be a piece of cake. “Pepper here is the friendly one, right?”

“Ha. Right. Better him than this asshole,” Estela said, while, as if on cue, the dark bay horse she was beside made to take a chunk out of her. Reflexively, she moved out of the way. “They call this one ‘Miel’. It means ‘honey’, which is exactly what she’s not.”

“You know, I’m seeing that. I’m guessing she’s the one who threw you back when you were a kid?”

“Of course. I’m sure it’s a memory she treasures.”

A little laugh made Taylor relax into her seat. This outing had been coming for a few days; her physical recovery had been going well, thanks in a large part to her very attentive and encouraging personal trainer. Taylor could feel the progress taking place within her body; something that she’d not long ago feared had stalled. There was a way to go yet, but… the climb to get there no longer felt insurmountable. Putting the focus on complete relaxation and actually getting some undisturbed sleep had done wonders.

Estela clicked her tongue, and as Miel moved forward, Taylor gave Pepper a little squeeze.

“Okay, buddy. I’ve got this.”

The movement beneath her took a little getting used to, but as Taylor sat straight, she realised that her core really had been strengthened in those past weeks. No doubt she’d be tired by the end of the ride, but for someone who just a couple of months ago couldn’t even sit up by herself, this was an achievement.

Estela grinned. “If you do fall off, I’ll try and throw some ninja moves so I can jump down and catch you.”

“Hahaha. You are absolutely hilarious. This is a cakewalk.” Let’s just keep it at a walk though. To be safe.

“I know. Nothing you can’t handle.” Estela brought her horse so she was walking parallel with Taylor’s. It was wonderfully weird to see her wife out here in the San Trobidan countryside even after all these weeks. But now, it could never be home if Taylor wasn’t there. “There are a few different tracks I used to take from here; we’ll probably get around to a couple more before we head back to La Huerta, but I figured the shortest trail is probably our best bet for now. There’s a really nice lookout spot in this one as well, so you can take a break if you need it.”

The trail meandered through thick primary forest, the shade of canopy bringing a drop in temperature that could be felt in an instant. All was quiet but for the calls of birds and the steady plodding of hoofbeats. That this could exist in a place so war-ravaged was startling to Taylor, and she could quite imagine how such a slither of peace could become a lifeline.

“You used to come out riding here a lot?”

“Yes,” Estela said. “It was one of the few useful things I could do when I was a kid. Seňor Ruiz loved these horses, but when he became involved in the war, he didn’t have as much time for them. When I was about twelve, and then… pretty much until Mom died, I kept the horses exercised and groomed, and Tio would get me off his back. Mom was quite friendly with Seňor Ruiz as well; she used to do this with me whenever she had the time. Obviously, with everything that was going on, I mostly felt like I was trapped. Riding was freeing. There were trails off the beach and up into the hills; I could disappear for hours. Sometimes I needed that. To just take those hours away from a world that seemed to be falling down around me.”

“I’ll bet. It must have felt like a whole different world out here. Has it changed a lot? Everything else seems to have changed so much for you… this place looks like it’s never been touched.”

“It’s the same. I could probably take another shot at jumping that log if I was so inclined.”

“So you didn’t stubbornly come back and try again?”

Estela’s eyes sparkled at the tease. She shrugged her shoulders. “It was a way off where I usually ride. But, yeah, I did jump it later. Not on Miel, though-- on Pepper. I’m stubborn, not an idiot.”

Taylor laughed. This wasn’t so hard. She had a distinct feeling that her butt and thighs would be killing her the next day, but it was enjoyable. At the slow pace, her body relaxed into it.

“But, no. This part hasn’t changed a bit. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel sad. Everything is as it should be, except my mother isn’t in the picture. This was her thing. What she did to unwind.”

The mood changed, taking a turn for melancholy. Estela winced apologetically. It wasn’t fair on Taylor; this was supposed to be about her recovery, not looking backwards.

“I’m… guessing you haven’t done this… since your mom died?”

“No. No, I couldn’t. To begin with, it would have been too painful. Then I’d managed to push myself into rebellion, and if I wasn’t helping-- really helping, this time--, I was training my mind and body so that I could take my revenge on Rourke.” She looked back at Taylor with a bittersweet smile, sorrow still lingering behind her eyes. “I didn’t realise how much I’ve actually missed doing this.

“Thank you for sharing it with me. It really means a lot. I feel like, slowly, I’m being woven into the tapestry of the real world… and it’s because of you; what you’ve given me. I know so much of it is painful, but you’ve not held back from me--”

“I want to feel your touch over every part of me. You know that, right?” Estela flushed a little, but didn’t avert her eye contact. Taylor’s gaze was full of love, and she returned it. “It makes it all easier to bear. And this kind of intimacy helps you, then… it’s important.”

“Yeah, I know. Just… I appreciate you letting me be that person.”

Estela’s lips curved to a smile. She didn’t need to be thanked, not for that. “I love you, Taylor.”

“I love you too.”

 Coming out at the other end of the thickest part of the forest, the sun was blinding. A downed tree had cleared all that stood in its wake, and now made for an easy post to which the horses could be tied. Having offered both horses a piece of apple, Estela helped Taylor join her atop the vast log so they could enjoy the view over the jungle-fringed coastline.

“Wow. It really is beautiful.”

“It is,” Estela said wistfully, staring out into a hauntingly familiar horizon. “It’s kind of a miracle it is still as untouched as it is. Around a lot of the edges of the forest, it’s all been destroyed. Of course, people would go into the forest to hide-- I know my mother and I did. When people are scared for their lives, why should they care about protecting a few trees? But a lot of it’s still okay. Us and the jungles. We’ll rebuild and get stronger.”

She frowned. Maybe something could be done to help. The resources available to Aleister through Rourke International could do a world of good here. It was difficult to bring up. Something would be asked for in return, something Estela was adamant she wouldn’t-- couldn’t-- give. As much as she fought it, though, she felt the burden of responsibility. If it could be as simple as taking Aleister and Grace out here and showing them why her home was special…. That time was coming soon.

“It’s weird to think, in just a few days we’re going to have Aleister and Grace here. Worlds colliding all over again.”

It wouldn’t be just a friendly visit. She’d had Aleister badgering her far too long for that to be the case. She knew. He had a burden to force upon her, as if sharing it would somehow distance himself from Rourke. As if cold, unfeeling money could in any way ease the suffering that had been caused. Aleister could take guidance about righting his father’s wrongs without tethering Estela to that name. After all that company had taken, it owed her that much.

“Hey,” Taylor said soothingly, her voice as gentle as the expression in her blue eyes. “They care about us, about you. Whatever conversations anyone might want to have, no one can force your hand. Only an incredibly stupid person would try, and that’s neither of them. They just want to be here for you.”

Only because of my blood. As soon as the thought came to her, Estela pushed it away stubbornly. However she thought about Aleister’s intentions for Rourke International and that blasted fortune, she did know that both he and Grace cared for her. And they cared for Taylor. And Jake. They must do, for it would take a brave person indeed to be in Aleister’s shoes and face an introduction to one Nicolas Montoya.

“I’ll have to tell Tio some more nice stories before then. I don’t know if my ‘warts and all’ approach to sharing our experiences on La Huerta have painted my poor half-brother in the best light.”

At that, Taylor chuckled darkly. Meeting the approval of Tio Nicolas had been a mighty intimidating feat to take on, albeit worth it a thousand times over. “Aleister did so much to keep you safe in the fallout, even under threat of your wrath. I think Tio of all people could appreciate what a challenge that must have been.”

“I’m lucky to have so many people looking out for me,” Estela said quietly. Then, as if she had no control over it, her tone became harsh, defensive. “But I don’t need looking after. Not with anything from Rourke.”

Taylor looked at Estela with aching affection, and saw it returned, the storm clouds clearing under a tender gaze.

“I’m doing it again,” Estela said sheepishly.

“Yeah. And it’s okay.” Taylor took her wife’s arm and held her. There was a whole lot Estela was working through right now, and she would not have her do it alone. “Maybe you could use a date with that old punching bag.”

Estela exhaled heavily. “That thing’ll be a pile of frayed string by the time I’m done with it.” She leaned closer, touching her forehead to Taylor’s, closing her eyes. It’s okay. You’re in this together. Look how far you’ve both come already? “You are amazing, you know? Taylor. You really are.”

“On a good day,” Taylor chuckled. Her whole life had been an erratic ride of peaks and troughs, of glorious highs and despairing lows. It hadn’t suddenly become easy once the world was restored and she was home with her soulmate.

“On a bad day, you’re even more,” Estela said solemnly. “You never give in.” She blushed slightly. “It’s one of the things I loved about you first.”

Taylor came away so she could press a gentle kiss to Estela’s nose. “And you still loved me when I could barely leave my bed. When I had no freaking control over my bladder,” she laughed. “And I couldn’t have sex without falling asleep after five minutes. It’s… starting to feel like we’ve made it. It’s like our future is actually possible. I don’t have a damn clue what it’s gonna be, but it’s gonna be us.”

“Yes. You and me, forever.” Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands, and brought her in for a deep and lingering kiss. God, Taylor; I’d go through every heartache a thousand times over for a day with you, a day like this. “Come on, mi amor,” she said airily as she came away, riding that wonderful high. “It’s about time those old horses got some real exercise. Let’s take them down into the sea.”

“Oh god, why do I feel like I’m about to get really wet?”

Estela smirked. “You better hold on tight, then.”

 _________________________

 2011

 The bay horse, Miel, flicked her ears back, responding to the tension feeding from the young woman atop her back.

“You expect me to want to leave… to just turn my back on everything that’s happening here. What if I refuse?”

“You’re a minor, Estela. You could dig your heels in and refuse to leave, but your uncle won’t make a revolutionary out of a fifteen year old girl. Nicolas wants you out of here as much as I do.”

Estela bit back a retort. No, he doesn’t. He would let me be useful. “I thought you cared about this place… these people.”

“Don’t.” That tone of voice didn’t come out very often, but even Estela knew better than to argue with it. “My child being killed in this war won’t make things better. You are bright, and determined, and compassionate. I won’t have your light snuffed out before it even has a chance to shine.” Olivia shook her head. “You are too precious. To me, and to all you care about. You finish your education, you grow and you learn, and then you will have more to offer. Then, it will be your choice. But while you are a child in my care, I need you have faith in my judgement.”

How, when it’s taking you away from me? Estela chewed on her lower lip,fighting to keep her tears at bay. Who would make you smile when you had the whole world in your shoulders?

Olivia must have felt the emotion in her daughter, for her voice trembled when she spoke. “The thought of being away from you is… torture. I don’t know how I’m even going to breathe knowing you’re so far away, knowing that the violence here could escalate at any time. But I have to do this, mija. I would not put us through this if it wasn’t desperate. But it is, and I am. If working on Rourke’s island for a year means that you come through this all, alive, there is no question.”

“I’ll miss you, Mami.”

“I know, Estelita. Mi preciosa. But we’ll get through this. One week at a time, and I won’t ever let you forget that my heart is home with you.”

Choking on the lump in her throat, Estela spluttered a sob, and roughly wiped tears from her eyes. “We’ll get through this,” she murmured weakly. This will pass. She had to believe it, she had to try,for it was all that would keep aching loneliness from taking root in her heart. For everything her tio was fighting for, she’d be strong. For her mother, she’d be even stronger.

“Come now, my star.” Olivia reached and stroked her daughter’s face, tenderly caressing away the tear-tracks that Estela’s harsh brushing had left behind. She cupped her cheeks and chin, adoring her. “If these are the memories I’m taking away with me, I’m going to need to see your beautiful smile.”

What is there to smile about--?

“Mija, this is our time. You and me, holding on together. So, I’m going to race you. One end of Cala Paraisa to the other. I’m not going anywhere with you under the delusion that your mother can’t leave you in the dust.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry you’re gonna be stuck on that island, stewing in the knowledge that I kicked your ass out here.”

Olivia scoffed exaggeratedly. There it was; there was her smile. “Fighting words!” She petted the grey horse’s neck. “What do you think, Pepper? We can take them?”

With a roll of her eyes, Estela clicked her tongue, encouraging Miel to walk forwards. This hurt. This really hurt. But her mother was right; they couldn’t let this time be taken from them. This was theirs.

“I think you and your horse are dreaming. We start at that driftwood-- are you ready?”

The still of the quiet cove gave way to the pounding of hooves and the whoops and hollers of mother and daughter at play. One last time.

[fusonzai]

I think I'm talking about confidence, I'm not too sure.

I was fifteen when I first saw Great Teacher Onizuka. My friend had lent me the DVD set (as you did when it was 2008) and I was about to spend the day watching it, feigning some illness to get out of school for the day. I needed some time alone, to process everything that had been going on around me.

For context, my parents were in the middle of a divorce. My mum, the most amazing person in the world to me, was not having a good time and I was not at all possessed with the skills to help her cope. Processing the concept of divorce, while trying to mediate the two adults going through it, wasn’t something I could handle. I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed a whole day away from friends and away from parents. While everyone was at their day job, I could think about everything and nothing, uninterrupted.

My attempt at getting out of school worked, however it came with a caveat. Mum had decided she’d take the day off with me. Feeling defeated but still stubborn, I insisted that if she was going to stay home too that we were watching GTO. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

GTO begins with our protagonist, Eikuchi Onizuka, squatting down by a payphone, trying to stare up the skirts of some high school girls coming down the nearby escalator. That’s a bold open. Two delinquents notice this and attempt to then extort him for cash. He promptly beats them up, forcing them to use all the money they have to buy him some food from the nearby convenience store. This scene establishes a few things straight off the bat: Onizuka is, first and foremost, a pervert and he’s physically strong but not to the point of unfairly asserting dominance over others. Onizuka dreams of being a teacher of all things. He wants to be the teacher he never had, being there for students outside the classroom as well as in. The series showcases Onizuka using his ex-biker gang leader skills and sheer determination to change the attitude of the antagonist students in his class. Each week he solves the reason behind their resistance toward him and they join his team until eventually he really is the Great Teacher, Onizuka.

The first delinquent problem Onizuka solves is that of Mizuki Nanako. Her parents aren’t divorced but they’re not exactly doing well. Ever since her father’s company started doing well and they moved into a mansion, she feels as though her parents just aren’t seeing eye to eye anymore. She blames it on a simple wall separating her parents’ private rooms. Before it got put up, her parents would talk and laugh together, sharing in their joys but also their defeats. Then before she knew it, they put a wall up and stopped sharing anything at all.

So, Onizuka arrives at her house. He’s got a bandana tied around his head, his abs gleaming as he’s smoking a cigarette. More importantly, he’s holding a sledgehammer, ready to demolish that wall. With her parents yelling at him threatening to call the police, Onizuka ascends the staircase and begins to take down that wall. Every powerful swing, shaking the wall and cracking the foundation.

(What a man what a man what a man what a might good man)

It felt cruel watching this scene with my mum. Here we were, two people still trying to process a big life event, opting to spend the day away from the problem. Here Onizuka was, just smashing through the problem with nothing but conviction, stupidity and sheer confidence. I couldn’t quite conceptualise the thought just yet but I think I envied that confidence. I wanted to be able to take a sledgehammer to this invisible problem and fix it. I didn’t know what an actual sledgehammer would solve nor was I even able to figure out what my situational sledgehammer would be, I just knew I wanted to be more like that. I wanted that confidence; I just didn’t know what it was yet.

Confidence. A complete assuredness in your actions. You may not have any idea of the outcome of said actions but you’re certain in the choice you made taking them. Maybe that’s just one definition. I struggle to this day with how to define confidence, I’ve been confident at different times in my life for different reasons. Mainly it’s been something I’ve found as I’ve gotten older though.

I struggled a lot with it when I was younger. I’d struggle to find it and when I did there was someone there trying to take it from me almost immediately. Pink polos were gay, skinny jeans were gay, being interested in anything outside the norm was gay as well. I wasn’t bullied by any means but there was always somebody around to tell you what they thought. I’d fold under that kind of pressure. I remember when I was 10 and we were in music class, I sang a little too loud and the popular girls behind me started pointing and laughing, clipping me before I got too sure of myself.

I got older and I thought I’d found confidence through weight training, but it was just arrogance. I genuinely thought I was better than other people in my creative writing class because I picked heavy things up and put them down. Of course, this had a drawback, whenever I’d meet someone bigger than me, I’d feel pathetic, jealous and inferior. I thought I’d rid myself of this arrogance when I started studying Japanese. My initial study was diligent and excessive. I’d have two Japanese classes a week and spend the rest of my time after work revising. Looking back now it was necessarily efficient studying, but in terms of time put in the hours were there. I believed I was working hard, which led to this arrogance in my abilities. An arrogance that was swiftly cut down whenever I met somebody better than me.

So, I always arrived at this juncture where I’d learn a new skill or hobby and wonder how to be confident in myself without comparing myself to others. I didn’t quite know how to praise myself for doing well at the gym or learning something new in Japanese without immediately comparing myself to others. It meant that I’d occasionally have these emotional highs when I achieved something only to be brought down to earth when I saw that somebody could do it better. I didn’t know how to make my achievements my own. The confidence I had was too fickle, it didn’t come from within and it often led to feeling superior to others based off of a single quantifier.

I was still uncomfortable with myself. I wanted outside validation which led to comparison, boasting and arrogance. I didn’t realise that I couldn’t get any of that from anyone else, it all had to come from within.

It’s taken me 14 years, but Onizuka finally made sense to me. I was watching the incredibly famous (in Japan) live action version of GTO one night, which turned into a nostalgia trip as all the episodes were almost identical to their anime equivalent. As I was watching I was wondering why I still hold this fictional character in such high regard, of all the powerful charismatic anime protagonists I watched in my teenage years, why does Onizuka persevere?

It’s because he’s kind of a dork.

(Get you a man that can do both)

Along with the confidence and strength that being a protagonist in a medium geared towards young boys affords you, Onizuka also has some very human flaws and vulnerabilities. The intense scenes like surprise renovating Nanako’s house or rescuing a whole bunch of kids from a gang are always juxtaposed with him being absolutely wayward in so many other aspects of life. He lives at the school because he can’t afford rent, he’s 26 and never had a girlfriend and his only friends are his students. We are always shown that his confidence isn’t intrinsically linked to how well his life is going, it’s just his feeling and determination in the moment. For all that bravado we see, we’re also shown the more human, relatable aspects. He’s amazing, brave and confident, but at the same time he’s still vulnerable and human.

Yet here’s the thing, I thought confidence meant a lack of vulnerability. I thought one couldn’t be both confident and vulnerable. This isn’t some segue into Boys Don’t Cry or a delve into masculinity. I didn’t believe that vulnerability wasn’t masculine, I just thought that vulnerability meant you had a long way to go before you were allowed to be confident.

(These lines go from bravado to insecurity in an instant, but I still think Tyler is confident as fuck)

I show what I feel to be the pretty vulnerable content on this blog. I write about my doubts and insecurities, the events that shaped me and the times in my life where I really felt at my lowest. I document the struggle I find myself in now, trying to carve something for myself and come to terms with the changes that keep happening around me. I don’t think anybody reading this would have an image of me as an outgoing, confident person. There’s rays of positivity sprinkled in occasionally but it’s generally content that I struggle to tell people in person.

Before starting this blog, I would have imagined that if I wanted to become this confident idealised version of myself, I’d need to erase any form of vulnerability. Delete the Instagram posts with moody lyrics, delete the couple shots and stop caring. I’d need to kill part of myself to become someone different. I couldn’t consciously accept that they were two signs of the same coin, even if I knew it in the back of my mind. The more I’ve been writing the better I’ve been feeling. These fears and insecurities being out in the open don’t make me any weaker, they actually feel like progress. My weaknesses will exist regardless of whether or not I tell people about them, my insecurities won’t disappear overnight. I’ll never be someone I’m not. What I can do is take these things that used to terrify me and put them out in the open. In my last piece I waxed on about making my words my own, by verbalising and bringing these thoughts into the open I feel like they become my own. They’re not completely stripped of power but they don’t hold the same sway over me that they once did.

So that leaves me with confidence. I can air my vulnerabilities and doubts but then where does my confidence come from? How do I then stop it from becoming arrogance?

Let me tell you about Charisma Man.

You know how when Superman goes back to Krypton he’s just a regular person, but on Earth he’s basically a God? Charisma Man is a joke (turned comic) about how Western Men often believe themselves to be Superman on Earth when they move to Japan. Why? You’re basically bombarded with compliments from the get-go. You get told your Japanese is amazing (when it’s not), that you’re so tall (when you’re short back home) and that you’re such a handsome man (when all experiences up until now have led you to believe the opposite). Thus, you create a kind of false confidence for yourself. Or do the people around you do it for you? You yourself haven’t changed but the people around you have, and they’re whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

(Honestly didn't know it was a comic, initially heard of it on a subreddit making fun of other expats in Japan)

Hell, maybe I am good looking? I studied Japanese for a year back home, maybe I am just really good at it? Maybe those people around me back home were just obnoxiously tall and mean. Maybe I am the shit. You begin to formulate this new identity for yourself. You are Charisma Man now. You’ll be making heaps of money, have girls on standby and be loved by everybody in no time.

Except that never happens.

The reality of Charisma Man isn’t so bright. You’re probably an English teacher living somewhere far away from the big city. Your apartment is probably small and old and your salary is half as much as you were making back home. Despite being told about how good your Japanese is, you still can’t turn on the TV and watch a program. You still can’t go to the bank and open an account with your bilingual Japanese friend. You’re still single and you’re probably getting fatter off convenience store fried chicken, if anything.

It’s fake confidence with no merit, built on nothing. You haven’t put yourself out there or done anything to earn that confidence so it always feels foreign to you. There isn’t some feat you perform or some hurdle you cross to get that kind of confidence. You’re not smashing walls with your sledgehammer or confronting your fears and growing. You just get fed compliments until your confidence balloon bursts.

I felt like I was Charisma Man for a hot minute. Separated from everyone I knew, out drinking every night, being complimented left right and centre. I kept trying and failing to keep my feet on the ground. Back then I thought it was new-found confidence, but I wasn’t really coming out of my shell; I was just being obnoxious. After long the facade faded and I realised I was the exact same Elliot I was back in Australia, just with less money and a nicer haircut.

I began to think about my experience. Why was I so confident? Why did it dissipate so quickly? Why was I not the only one that experienced this little phenomenon?

I came to the conclusion that confidence can come from many places. It can come from other people, but then it’s reliant on the praise of others. It’s shallow, fickle and bound to dissipate sooner rather than later. You’re constantly reliant on the praise of others to affirm who you are as a person, you can fool people into giving you praise but that goes away before you know it as well.

It’s a big enough of a struggle to understand yourself, it’s near impossible to understand strangers. Relying on such an unstable form of validation is essentially just inviting mental trauma in the long run.

On the other hand, confidence can also come from within.

After I distanced myself from all that charisma, I began to realise that I felt my best and my most confident when I actually put the work in. I started properly studying, eating well, and writing down my thoughts. It didn’t matter as much if people didn’t say anything, because I went to bed every night knowing that I put in enough work. Nobody said anything about the change, but I felt like I was becoming my own biggest supporter.

It’s both rewarding and daunting when you switch dopamine suppliers. I used past tense in those last few sentences because that particular fountain hasn’t been flowing so well lately. The flip side of not letting other people’s compliments fuel you anymore is that when you’re not doing right by yourself, that confidence tend to dry up pretty quickly.

[fbwzoo]

My hermit crab mansion (for my 18 hermit crabs) is completed! This is a 125g base tank with two 36x18x18 Exo Terra tanks on top - the ETs had the top screen removed and were turned upside down and velcroed to the base tank with industrial strength velcro. Right side is forest/jungle, and left side is beach. Took a pic of lights off & lights on. The beach side has UVB light, though I need to change the bulb out still. That’s why I moved that light strip up to the top, so they can choose to climb up for exposure if they want it. 

(Note: the crabs haven’t been moved into the tank yet, as I’ll have to wait for the humidity to build up to a high enough level to be safe for them.)

Close up pics and tour of the tank below the cut! This is very long, tumblr apparently changed the photo limit for posts, so they’re all on this post. I hope you enjoy! :)

Corner shower basket on the left front of forest tank has a mix of leaves, dried moss, lichens, and bark.

Background is the fake background that came with the Exo Terra, covered in coconut fiber. Cork bark rounds and pieces were siliconed in for hides & climbing on. The corner basket on the right front has damp sphagnum moss in it. There’s a bridge connecting the two shower baskets across the front of the tank. And a strand of fake pothos around the top edges of the background - this is attached to plastic wall corner guards that had holes drilled in them & were siliconed to the walls. Great for hanging things!

Here’s a close up of the hanging climber that I made - it’s a poseable fake jungle vine, wrapped in sisal rope (secured with zipties). I made it into a corkscrew shape and tied another fake pothos vine to it, then hung this from a wall corner guard that’s attached to the ceiling of the topper tank. It hangs down almost to the substrate & is secured to another corner guard at the front of the base tank, to hep support the shape. It can be access from the foraging dish, the second story of pot condos, and up top, from the bridge and one of the cork rounds.

This “shelf” is a pane of glass that’s part of the base aquarium - there’s thick panes on either side of the center support strut. I covered the glass with coconut mat (siliconed to stay) to help protect it from falling crabbies. Fake rock planter has moss in it, soaked to help raise the humidity level right now. You can also see the chunk of driftwood that leads from the top of the pot condos to the shelf, as the other way for the crabs to access the topper.

8″ Comfort Wheel hanging at the front left, I siliconed coconut mat to both the inside and outside of the wheel for better grip. Hanging coconut hide behind that, with moss in it.

You can see most of the pot condos here. I used spray foam to secure the pots for each level together - three for the lower level, two for upper. The two levels are secured to each other with industrial velcro, so they can be separated if needed. I covered the exposed foam with coconut mat siliconed on. I also siliconed pieces of cholla wood in between each of the pots on both levels for easier climbing (you can see one strip in pic below). The pots have a strip of bark leaning against both sides & across the top.

You can also see the foraging dish here, discussed below.

Straight on view of the base tank on the left forest side. The thing with yellow flowers on the right of this picture is their foraging dish - a flower pot stand that has a clay flower pot base in it. I ziptied fake flower and leaf vines to the stand & they like to hide under it. I put a mix of leaves, flowers, bark, mushrooms, seeds, and other things in the dish. This thing has been a favorite of both mine & the crabs’ for a few years now.

Full view of the forest side!

Front view of the middle of the tank. You can just see another coconut hide behind the blue flowers, with moss in it. The big wood piece is a hollow grape wood log.

Beach side now! There’s the other pane of glass “shelf”, covered with coconut mat. Above that is the cholla wall - I put spray foam on a plastic cross stitch mat, then stuck the pieces of cholla wood into it. Siliconed some additional pieces to cover open spots of foam. 

First picture of the rock wall - spray foam on a piece of pink insulation foam board. I used pieces of foam board to make the caves & ledges, so I wouldn’t use as much spray foam. Then trimmed down as needed and siliconed black lava rocks to it. This cave turned out the most cave-like, I’m rather pleased with it!

The other cave didn’t turn out quite like I wanted because I ran out of spray foam & called it quits (that stuff is hard as hell to find in store). So the walls are a bit short to really be a cave, but oh well! There’s also a corner shelf to make a nice resting platform.

Hung a sea grass corner mat in the front right, it overlaps a bit with the rock corner shelf, above it. My thought was to try & make it a little harder for the crabs to fall all the way from the top of the topper, with the pools below - if they crack the pools, it’ll be a HUGE problem for them and me, so let’s not, okay crabs!!

Two bridges connected to each other to connect the sea grass mat to the cholla wall, and another bridge from the mat to the back of the tank above the rock wall. And one more bridge that goes from the front bridges down to the climbing branches that lead from the base tank up to this topper. The branch here is a Zilla forest branch, it’s ziptied to the fake branch climber below.

Pools! They’re 5g glass aquariums. The back one is fresh water, and the front is salt water. I have small air-powered filters for each, underneath the ramps. The ramps are made of egg crate light diffuser. The water is very murky for both pools right now because I’d just added the water & there’s sand in both pools (live ocean sand for the salt water pool). The ramps are ziptied to each other in one spot to help keep them in place. I’d like to make the area between the pools & rock wall look nicer at some point, but I was just out of energy & supplies (& money) at this point.

This is a resin/plastic wood branch reptile decoration which is their access point to climb up to the beach topper. The forest branch is ziptied to it, which you can just see on the right side.

And front view of the base tank beach side. I’ll be getting a wider container to put shells in next to the pools, as I’d like to have a little more space for shells, and something that will do better at catching water when swimming crabs come out of the pools. But this works for now. These are the larger shells, and I have another container at the back of the base tank in the middle (not visible in any of the pics) with smaller shells. I don’t have a ton of shells in because at this point most of my crabs are pretty comfortable with what they have on & don’t do much shell shopping/swapping, and I plan to switch shells out more often (every week or every other) to save space, help keep them cleaner & so the crabs get to see “different” shells more often instead of all the shells all the time. And the yellow thing in front of the shell dish is a big piece of natural sea sponge. You don’t want sea sponges in the water pools because they’ll collect bacteria. But they’re fine to put in dry & the crabs love to eat them. I haven’t given them sponge before, so I hope they like it. 

This concludes the tour of the new crab tank! Please feel free to ask questions if you’re wondering about how I made anything or where I got things from. :) Most things came from Chewy, hardware stores, and New England Herpetoculture, but I got some things from people on my main FB crab group, and some stuff I already had on hand. I’m so relieved this thing is finally done, and I really hope the crabs like it (and don’t destroy it too fast)!

[tar-oh]

Pick-A-Pile: What you need to hear right now:

  This is my favorite kind of Pick-A-Pile to do because you never know what’s going to show up! It’s kind of like a free-for-all!  I also forgot to originally add that they’re a little shorter than normal because I felt like doing smaller messages, and because I’ve tried posting this exact post about 3 times, I lost that part of the message. So, here it is now! Remember to take what resonates and choose more than 1 if you feel like it! (also if you’re curious about what cd’s they are, message me! lol idk i know some don’t even have the band on them) So anyway, choose from one the random CD’s I forgot I owned (but all are pretty good albums): 

Pile 1:

Cards: The Hierophant, Queen of Wands, New Moon in Leo So, for Pile 1 I just kept hearing “Don't let anyone dim your light”. And I guess the Queen of Wands and the New Moon in Leo card both kind of scream that to me, because there’s a lion in both and it’s really powerful. That, and I always kind of think that when I get the Queen of Wands, and with that deck specifically I see it because it’s so bright with all the light colors. Right now, you're shining and you have things to be proud of. I'm seeing that a lot of you have skills or talents that are really shining through, as well as who you are as a person. There may be people who don't want to see you shine, or don't like what you're doing but honestly the biggest message of this pile is for you to do you. The song that played while I was working on this pile was Adelaide by Ben Folds, and while it doesn't connect completely, it's a song about the narrator being questioned why he always chooses Adelaide the city. He explains many reasons, but the biggest is that he just wants to, so I kind of take that to mean do what makes you happy. Also, side note, I think you should check out piles 5 and 6 if you were torn between any of them. Adelaide - Ben Folds (isn’t the piano and bass in the beginning a perfect combo???) Pile 2:

Cards: 4 of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, Balsamic Moon The biggest message for this pile is about healing. Something left you feeling a loss. This could have been a physical loss, like of a situation or a person, or it could just be that you feel like something is missing. Whatever it was that you went through, you need to heal. I think the best way to do so is to feel the emotions your feeling. Try not to push them away. The songs that played while I was working on this were Mad Woman by Taylor Swift and Headspace by The Wombats. Mad Woman is an angry song, asking the agitator what reaction they expected from the narrator. And, while it's an angry song, she still seems to portray this anger in a graceful manner. I'm getting that some of you may be feeling angry about whatever transpired, but I'm also getting that you need to be able to channel this anger in a healthy way. I personally love doing Kickboxing workouts when I'm really pissed? I don't know! Whatever works for you! With Headspace, the narrator talks about how he wants someone out of his head because she's kind of taking over his "headspace". So, maybe whatever this is keeps replaying in your mind and you can't get away from it. While I do think you need to feel those feelings, I also think for some a small break from your own head may be what's needed. Maybe read a good book or watch a movie or something. I'm not saying keep distracting yourself after already distracting yourself, I'm just saying take a bit of time away from those thoughts. Then, come back and feel. Overall, it will all be okay. It's just the getting there that can be hard, but I know you can get there. And, anyway, I think this is my pile, so I'm literally right there with you guys. Mad Woman - Taylor Swift Headspace - The Wombats Pile 3:

Cards: Judgement, 6 of Pentacles, New Moon in Cancer A new cycle is beginning for you. It could possibly be a spiritual one.  Or maybe in a relationship (whether it's platonic, romantic or familial). Either way, you're entering into a period of something new. You may be feeling generous, like you want to give something to help people better themselves and heal. Or, for others, just offering up your time and love. Either way, with the judgement card, I always see it to mean something destined. So, whatever it is you want to do was destined to happen. If you want to go in this direction, it's a good idea. And if you already were heading in this direction, keep up the good work. You guys didn't really get a song, but one that played while I was writing this were the end credits from the movie Lore. It's really pretty and maybe if you're into movie scores, check it out. End Credits by Max Richter from the move Lore (side note, the lady who directed this directed the new Black Widow movie coming out and while Lore is NOTHING like a marvel movie, I highly recommend it since it’s one of my favorites) Pile 4:

Cards: Queen of Cups, 3 of wands reversed, Supermoon Things may be moving slowly for you, or perhaps not moving at all. Maybe you're feeling like your hard work isn't paying off. Or, maybe you're afraid to move forward at all. Or even just being unsure of where to go. Or, maybe like the album you chose, Wiped Out, you’re just feeling a little drained and you don’t really want to move right away. Things will be moving for you soon, so if you're unsure of where you're going, then you will know soon. The Queen of Cups is the queen with the strongest intuition, so I think you know where you're going or how to move it forward, you're just not consciously aware of it right now. I think if you kind of take a minute and dive into your intuition, you'll gain clarity. I also think that if things are feeling stagnant to you, then maybe this period of stagnancy was meant to happen so you could gain the clarity you needed. Whatever it is you're going through, things will be moving and it will all work out. Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Knicks came on when I was writing this, and I think there might be something in there for you. Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Knicks Pile 5:

Cards: The Emperor reversed, Strength (or Fortitude with this deck), First Quarter Moon I'm getting a few different scenarios with this group. Also, if you felt pulled towards group 1, maybe read that one. Maybe 6 if you were drawn to that one too. The first has a couple scenarios within itself too lol. Maybe you're involved with someone (it can be in anyway) that is controlling and not in the good way. For others, maybe someone who has authority over you and is taking advantage of that. So, maybe an age gap or something. Or, just in terms of status (i.e. a boss or parent). Either way, I see that maybe they're abusing this control and I see you being able to stand up for yourself. There's a sense of self-perseverance that's needed here. You need to examine this and see if there is a way for you to make things healthier between the two of you. Otherwise, cutting ties may be needed (though, please take what resonates, but also, if this is Job-related, please know that your life is more important than a job. I know we all need to make money to survive, but also, don't work to the point where you're killing yourself, like if this is causing you that much distress. I’m not talking about if you’re just bored. I mean, that comes with a lot of jobs. I’m talking about mental and physical distress). It could even be that maybe this person has yet to abuse this power, but you feel like they will or are expecting the worst from them. In that case, maybe talk to them about this to ensure it doesn't happen. For the other group (or even both!) this is about following your dreams and not allowing someone to stop you from doing so. Maybe you're afraid things won't work out if you do follow your dreams. You have the strength to achieve them, so what's holding you back? Don't let fear do that. Maybe you're working a little too hard to control the outcome. Loosen your grip on the reigns. Or, for others, you're not in enough control, so you need to tighten the slack. Either way, you have what it takes. The songs that really stood out for me were Soft to Be Strong by Marina and  Just Exist by Eliza & the Delusionals. With Marina's song, I see this as being you taking control of your life, but not in a domineering way. And maybe if you're someone dealing with someone else, then this is the way to show them how to be. And with the others who are trying to follow their dreams,  it's more of a reminder to still be kind of yourself. Maybe you do try something and you fail. I kind of think of that thing the Robinson's say a bunch in Disney's Meet the Robinson's, "Keep moving forward!", and I definitely equate that with this song and your pile. I mean, not directly, but that’s something else that comes to mind, and with Soft To Be Strong, I see that as maybe you’re worn down, but you can still be strong. With Just Exist, it's kind of about how it would be easier if someone wasn't in their life, so I mean this could be taken literally lol. So, I guess, take what resonates. Soft to be Strong - Marina Just Exist - Eliza & the Delusionals Pile 6:

Cards: 7 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Full Moon in Aries You have ideas that you want to put into action, but you're feeling defensive of them. Like, maybe you're afraid someone will steal them if you share them. I'm kind of here to say So The Fuck What? Like, pretty much everything that's been done HAS been done, but it's YOU that makes it unique. So, what if someone likes your idea and decides to use it? Their take is still going to be different than yours. You can't really succeed if you never try, can you? I mean, it is a different thing if someone outright plagiarizes you, in that case fuck em up. (Okay, I shouldn't really be condoning violence lol) Basically just stop holding back and act! The biggest song I got for you was Dreams by The Cranberries and while it's a love song, I definitely think this can apply to you going after your dreams. Also, if you were between piles, 5 and 1 might be some to check out. Dreams - The Cranberries

[artemisfromkq]

— Pen and paper.

Summary: In which Sujin decides to write letters to the people she hurt in the past, the first being about Yoo Saerom.

Characters: Lee Sujin, Yoo Saerom, Kim Miyeon, some other Artemis members appear by the end.

Trigger warning: Alcohol usage, cheating, swearing, lying, crying, briefly mentions a funeral in a movie (?). This is pure angst, Sujin hurted that girl. There's also like two scenes one after another involving sex but there's no smut, it does have kind of a explicit language but it doesn't describe any act. Also, Sujin lowkey makes fun of Hyojin’s alcohol dependence.

Author's Notes: This is part one of the To All The People I've Hurt series! Italic texts are for what's Sujin writing in the letters.

APRIL, 2020.

Sujin hated what she became.

When she thinks about it, she wants to pass out, she hates to think she's like that, she was supposed to be a good person, she was supposed to have values, what went wrong?

When she looks back at her past relationships, she sees nothing but people she treated badly, she sees nothing but a trail of hurt and resent, isn't love supposed to be beautiful? She wonders if that's what her exes thought when they were with her. When she looks back, she doesn't remember anything good, it was a trail of manipulation and sadness left behind, she hated it, she hated it so much.

In this trail she could see Elle, Delilah and Saerom. Three people who didn't deserve anything they went through with her.

Saerom, she remembered it clearly, it hadn't been a lot of time since it happened, it was a relationship with potential, destroyed by Sujin in a few months, or even weeks. Saerom was pure, so pure Sujin thinks she hasn't experienced the dark side of life before she met her, she was beautiful, she didn't deserve anything she had to take. Sujin regretted it so much, why did she had to be like this?

Saerom loved to write, she remembers it well. She always left a cute letter for her when they went out for a date or just visited each other in the dorm or her house. She was the opposite to Sujin, she loved to write and read books, something which she never really gave value, another thing that she did wrong. Ironically, this memory was what gave her this idea.

Sujin never thought she'd be sitting in a table, with a pen in hands and a blank sheet of paper in front of her. Why was she doing this, anyway? Redemption? She wouldn't get it with a simple letter who is never getting sent, it was worth a try, anyways. It was what she could do, she knew the people she hurted obviously didn't want to see her, that's the only thing that came into her mind. God, she felt stupid putting herself on that spot, but it's supposed to make her feel better about herself, she hopes so.

And with that, she took a deep breath before starting to write.

We met each other in august.

AUGUST, 2019.

Summer was close to ending, the temperature already had changes to give room to autumn. Debut preparations were done and we were set to debut by the end of september. Lai was responsible to introduce us, remember? You were a sm trainee at the time, or still is, i wonder if you're still there, you always talked about your dream of debuting and being sucessful in our late nights, i hope i didn't ruin that for you.

In the start, i remember it was all fun and games, we used to go out with Lai but it didn't take much for us to start meeting alone. We were so different, yet our conversations used to last for hours. We'd drink coffee, walk around Seoul and, from time to time, you saw a book you liked and i'd always end up buying for you, you remembered me of someone from the past, and that was what brought our downfall.

SEPTEMBER, 2019.

When i debuted, you took me to a restaurant i remember well, it was expensive, i could tell, i wondered if you really wanted to do that for me, yet you still insisted to pay the bill. That night, we had our first kiss late night at a park, hidden behind the trees so no one could see us, i remember i felt happy, yes, happy. Not everything was a lie, Saerom, not from the start, even if you don't believe me nor want to look at my face ever again.

Not long after, we started dating.

Autumn had started for some time already, the sun didn't shine as brightly but the city was still beautiful, the trees darkened their color and the leaves started to fall, a perfect landscape was formed. Even if it didn't shine a lot, the sun was already setting, it was perfect, completely perfect.

Sujin unexpectedly invited Saerom to visit the Deoksugung Stonewall Path, a beautiful place that was near the Seoul Museum of art, a place that Saerom loved to visit.

It has been some time since i last visited the path, i don't really have the courage or strength to do it without remembering of the things i did to you.

They walked around for some time, they smiled, laughed, everyone would think they're just best friends having fun and, that time, they were, but it wouldn't last soon. When they got tired, they stopped by a café in front of the Jeongdong theatre, Saerom smiled as she continued to talk about her day, Sujin wasn't paying attention, lost in how angelic she looked while talking.

“I have something for you.” Interrupted, making the other surprised for some seconds.

I remember i acted like i wasn't nervous, after all, i had to keep the act you always loved to tease. But, yes, you were right, i was nervous that day.

“Oh, really? I'm curious, what book is it?” Saerom rested her chin on her hand, while waiting for Sujin to get something out of her bag.

“You know me well.”

“You're just uncreative! It's different.” Sujin let a small smile out and playfuly rolled her eyes as she took a book out of her bag, handing it to the other girl. “Pride and Prejudice? Quite cliché, however unexpected coming from you.”

“Just open the marked page.” It was hard to tell, but Sujin was blushing behind the sunglass she was using. Saerom mouthed a small "huh?" as she opened the book on the indicated page.

“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.” The girl read the quote highlighted with pink marker, just below it, there was a post-it with something written: I love you.

I still remember your reaction, you were trying to hide your shock, but i could see it clearly, you were almost on the verge of crying from happiness, which i didn't understand why. Looking back to it, i realized it is because you really loved me, it hurts to see i didn't recognize that.

“First of all, never put a marker close to a book again, that's a crime.” Sujin couldn't hold her laugh, she knew how Saerom hated to make one single damage to her books, god, she took more care of them than herself. “Second, i love you too.”

“So, do you want?” Saerom looked confused with the question, making Sujin look away, denouncing a little of nervousness. “To be my... Girlfriend?” She whispered, scared of the answer she'd receive, only to hear Saerom laughing out loud in front of her.

“What do you think?”

NOVEMBER, 2019.

The sheets of Saerom's bed seem more monotonous than normal. Her apartment surely needs changes, but, still, it was probably better then SM’s dorm, it gave privacy both to herself and Sujin, she wonders if she’s focusing on her own life since she’s spending so much time with her. Sujin stares at the ceiling and lets a deep breath out, her girlfriend slept quietly by her side. Silence makes Sujin think, it makes her retrieve memories she didn't want. It hasn't been a lot of time since she started feeling like this, empty. Saerom started to feel more like a distraction than a loved one, she didn't know why. Honestly, Sujin hasn't met love again since a year ago, she hated to admit it, but old habits die hard, that was one of them.

Sujin liked girls like this, smart, determined, beautiful. There was only one difference between her current girlfriend and her past: Strength. Saerom was either easily manipulated or she trusted people too easily, ingenuous girl. In the end, Sujin is the type of person you can never trust, because she’ll always fuck you up in the end. She likes to hurt people, play with their minds, it became a part of her even if she denies it, she might be nice and playful in front of her friends, but she is rotten inside, she will always be.

She knew it, no matter how she tried to hide it down her throat, no matter how she tried to appreciate her girlfriend's beauty as one of a kind. In her eyes, Saerom would always be a carbon copy of the girl she loved a year ago, the same girl who she destroyed any ties she had with. For her, Saerom would always be a manifestation of the past, the one who makes reality the image of a future she had with someone else.

When Sujin fucks her, she sees someone else, when Sujin takes her out for a date, she sees someone else, when Sujin buys her a book, she sees someone else. It will always be someone else, a illusion of the past that insists to chase her every time she tried to move on from it.

Being distracted by her thoughts, she hears a fainted voice by her side. “I love you.”

Hesitantly, she replies. “I love you too.”

JANUARY, 2020.

Time passes, and a hotel room became more pleasing then her girlfriend’s home.

It was cheap, dirty and not in the most safe place of Seoul. The walls were made of wood and you could easily listen to the conversation in your neighbour’s room, the bed creaked at the smallest of movements and everything smelled like alcohol. She has money, she could afford a better place, but not getting caught was more important then comfort in Sujin’s mind, not that the person by her side cared at all.

No, the one beside her is not her loved one, not now, she stopped looking for pleasure in Saerom for some time, now. Miyeon was just another girl she met in a club, who she called when she needed. Miyeon was just exactly what her girlfriend missed, she was the missing part, she was power, she was strength. She wasn’t scared of challenging Sujin and she loved every single part of it. Of course, along with the adrenaline. Something inside of her begged her to stop and not do it, that she would leave one more person hurt, but something about lying always left Sujin intrigued, drunk with the ecstasy that came with doing something wrong, and Miyeon was perfect for it, she gave her exactly what she wanted. Sujin likes to do wrong things because they make her feel at her best state, they make her heart beat fast and make her think about the chaotic consequences of her actions, giving what she wants once again.

Suddenly, she can hear her phone vibrating on the bedside table, a message notification shows in the overly brightened phone.

[SAEROM @ 11:45 p.m] Are you fine? I hope your schedules aren’t taking a lot from you, i love you!

“Is that your girlfriend?” Sujin feels the girl’s head lay on her shoulder, she sighs, not knowing how to respond the text, she was going out of excuses. She, then, looks at the lover by her side.

“Yes. I gave her the same act, she’s worried if i’m getting overworked.”

“Yeah, right, only if it’s overworked by something else.” Miyeon lets a small chuckle out, Sujin stayed silent. Whatever it was, it still screamed to cut that relationship before everything started to fall down, but her desire spoke louder, it always did. “Don’t mind her, she’ll think you’re busy, drink some more wine.”

“Don’t you have something stronger?” She closes her eyes, letting one more deep breath out, she feels out of her body, everything felt like an hallucination, she wasn’t even drunk, yet. Lust. That was her biggest sin, it gets over her pride and takes over all of her body to act in favor of it, it was her biggest addiction. Before getting drunk of alcohol, she gets drunk of desire, it is dangerous for her, it is, Sujin can’t think properly anymore.

“Well,” She gets up from the bed, going in the direction of a plastic bag on top of a drawer. “We have whiskey, vodka... Your choice.”

“Vodka. It tastes horrible, it’ll work better.” Miyeon nodded, pouring the drink on a glass and giving it to Sujin. “Drink up.” She takes everything in one sip, frowning for some seconds due to the burning sensation on her throat, exactly like Sujin wanted. “What do you want with this, really?”

Her lips hesitate before answering, she was tired of that bulshit, she didn’t want to talk anymore, she needed more, desperately. “To forget.” She leaves the glass in the bedside table, taking her gaze to the other woman, she wouldn’t say anything else, Miyeon knew what to do, and that’s what made her better.

“If that’s the case,” She smiled, bad thoughts taking over her mind, just like Sujin’s. “I can do that way better.” Miyeon grabs her chin and leaves a small kiss in her mouth, seconds later, Sujin gets closer and ends the space between them. Suddenly, time didn’t matter anymore.

FEBRUARY, 2020.

“It’s really nice from the girls to let us have a good time in private, right?” Saerom smiles, grabbing a hand full of popcorn and stuffing everything in her mouth. Sujin tried to focus on what was going on in the television, what movie were they watching, anyway? She just went with her girlfriend’s lead and pretended to care.

It’s been some time they last done this. Have a good time. It even gave Sujin a strange impression on her body, when everything she’s been thinking about is the same dirty hotel room that smelled like alcohol and sex. Sujin didn’t even know why she invited Saerom to her dorm, she didn’t even love her anymore, why would she bother? Maybe to make her heart lighter, after all, nobody but her and Miyeon knew what she was doing in secret. Sujin is truly a trainwreck, a trainwreck disguised as a tempting, beautiful face, behind those mysterious, yet intriguing eyes that could pull you in a minute. People say sin is disguised as something beautiful, so it can take you in and never let you go, and that is exactly what she is.

“Yes, they are, they like that we’re together.” She sighs, grabbing a single popcorn and putting in her mouth, chewing it slowly as she gets more and more distracted in staring at the movie.

“Really? Is there a motive for that?”

“No, they just think you’re a cool person.” She grabs another popcorn, don’t act like you don’t know, she wanted to say that to Saerom. All the girls knew, and she knew Lai told her about it. The only motive why Sujin distanced herself more from their relationship every day, how can someone else make such an effect on other’s heart? She knew it’d come back at her one day or another, she’d taste from her own poison and blame others for it, after all, it’s never your fault, it’s always the others’.

“Well, that’s great, right? Look! Veronica is in Heather Chandler’s funeral.” Heathers. That was the movie they were watching. Saerom reaches her hand to grab more popcorn in the bowl they filled, realizing that the popcorn was close of completely vanishing. “Hey, it’s your house, go get me some more.” She smiled, putting the bowl completely in Sujin’s lap, who made a confused expression in the start.

“Fine, you don’t need to pause the movie, i’ll be right back!” She faked a excited tone, grabbing the bowl and going to the dorm’s kitchen, rolling her eyes as she refilled the bowl. She when she found those dates boring, anything with Saerom was suddenly boring and she couldn’t do anything about it. However, for some reason, cheating on her in secret sounded better in Sujin’s head then just straight up breaking up, she didn’t want to break up with Saerom in the fear of hurting her, but wasn’t that what she was doing all along? In the inside, Sujin wouldn’t take seeing Saerom with a broken expression, with a broken heart, but this wasn’t her problem anymore, she grew cold over her just like everyone else she ever dated. Sujin had a problem with love and relationships, it showed, but she decided to keep growing the count of people she hurts.

However, the view of a broken heart was closer than she imagined.

As Sujin was in the kitchen preparing more popcorn, her phone left in the couch kept ringing messages, making her curious girlfriend look if she had some new friends, always worried about her loved one’s happiness, only to find out something that was the opposite of what she wanted.

[MIYEON @ 8:50 P.M] Long time no see, right?

[MIYEON @ 8:51 P.M] I bet you miss me

[MIYEON @ 8:51 P.M] Why don’t you come over to our secret spot and i can show you something?

[MIYEON @ 8:51 P.M] Ditch your girlfriend, she won’t even suspect

[MIYEON @ 8:52 P.M] I bought some wine

As Sujin finished to put a new load of popcorn in the bowl, she walked back to the living room, surprising herself at the view of her girlfriend standing up in pure disappointment, with her phone in hands, displaying a conversation in the screen.

“Since when?”

Sujin stayed silent.

“Fucking answer, Sujin!”

“It’s not what-”

“Don’t play that bullshit on me.”

It was dark, but Saerom’s eyes shined, and it wasn’t because of happiness. Tears started falling down her eyes, then to her cheeks, then dropping on the floor. She never saw her like that. Of course, Saerom was always vulnerable, but she never cried in front of her.

I’ll never forget what i felt when i saw your expression. You were completely broken in pieces, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t want to, but everything that i talked about you, every single thing i did to you was registered, and you discovered everything once. You were so disappointed. When i look back at it, i always realize you actually loved me, truly, and i couldn’t see it, that’s completely cliché, like you used to say, but i didn’t understand, i didn’t know i could love again, i’m so sorry.

“I’m so sorry, Saerom, i-”

“No, you feel sorry because you got caught.” True. She feels sorry she got caught, because if she didn’t, she would play the act until Saerom felt tired and broke the relationship without knowing anything. All her doings being locked and never discovered, but reality is not like that, it’s painful and it’ll teach you lessons that you’ll be thankful someday, hopefully.

She stayed silent one more time. She was out of lies. There was nothing she could do anymore besides letting her go, maybe she was feeling regret, maybe not, her mind was only pure confusion and she could only think of losing something that one day she called hers. Only a possession, a toy, that was Sujin what considered Saerom at that point, someone good she can show off to her groupmates to show she moved on. However, Saerom was no doll, she had feelings and they were overflowing with sadness. It wasn’t something beautiful, it wasn’t something worth seeing anymore.

“You know... I thought you... you... Did you just lie to me this whole time?” She wiped her tears with her right arm, throwing Sujin’s phone on her couch. “Never look into my face again.” Saerom started grabbing her stuff, and something clicked into Sujin. She got closer, holding Saerom’s shoulders, keeping her from going away.

“Hold on... Please... I-i can explain.” Her voice failed, she was nervous, but showed no sadness. Saerom looked at the ground, she couldn’t take it, why? She loved Sujin so much? What did she do wrong?

“You’re just so fucking uncreative.” She looked in her eyes one more time, before going in direction of the exit, banging the door behind her, leaving Sujin staring at nothing, she wouldn’t go after her, she knew she didn’t deserve it, the fault was all hers, she knew it well. She always knew when she did something wrong. Sujin laid her head on the door, closing her eyes and landing two punches on it.

Silence. Since when silence started getting so overwhelming?

She used to love silence. The sensation of focusing on what you’re feeling, not what you’re hearing was something she used to always crave. But this silence wasn’t great, she didn’t want to feel what she was feeling, was she always like this? Was that the effect she caused on others? Sadness? The only thing she did all this time was break people’s hearts? She couldn’t understand because she always cared about herself, but when she looked at Saerom’s expression, memories came back to her, and they weren’t good.

“Do you mind telling me why Saerom sent me an audio message crying saying she never wants to see you again?” Kamlai got out of her dorm room, going straight to the living room as Sujin turned around, looking at her groupmate who didn’t look pleased. “God, i didn’t think you could pull that off again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. Saerom is a person, too! She’s my friend, Sujin, she’s not Delilah!”

Her eyes widened. Delilah. The name she’s been trying so hard to forget. She hated to hear that name so much, Kamlai knew it’d hurt, did she say it on purpose? Probably, it was her friend she messed with, after all, even if she loved Sujin, she was wrong. She did something she shouldn’t do.

“Don’t fucking mention that name.” Her voice got lower, it took silence to hear it. It was cold, she couldn’t show what was behind that name, but Kamlai knew very well, everyone knew.

“Why? Because you keep showing that even after loving someone like that you keep doing the same shit and break people’s hearts? That’s not cool, Sujin, when will you learn?”

“Why do you care?” Her voice now got louder, demanding answers from the older one.

“Because i care about you! You’re my friend! And i can’t take seeing you do those things! Because i know you’re a good person.”

“Maybe you don’t know me at all!”

“What is happening here?” Hyojin who was actually in the dorm, got out of her room to see the motive of the fight.

“It’s not your business, Hyojin, go drown yourself in another whiskey bottle and let me solve this alone.”

“What the fuck did you say?” She looked at the younger one in shock, Sujin realizing what she said just after she saw her leader’s expression, knowing that it was, still is a delicate matter to her.

She looked down, she couldn’t do anything that day anymore, she didn’t want to talk to anyone, she’d just end up hurting one more person to her count. Sujin let out a deep breath, running away from all that mess to her room.

“We’re talking later, Lee Sujin.” Hyojin screamed from the distance, in which she purely answered to banging the door behind her.

She just wanted to turn back in time.

APRIL, 2020.

The end arrived so fast that i couldn’t even process. I didn’t know what i was feeling, i still don’t know. I’m a slave to feelings, they take over me easily and make me do things i tend to regret just after. I can’t say i want you back, you’re better following your path without me, we’re both better without each other. But that doesn’t erase what i did, a plead of forgiveness or this letter won’t do it. But it’s the better way i can think of. Because i’m a coward. The biggest of them.

I hope you're out there, making sure that your dream turns into reality as fast as possible. You deserve it more than anyone else, you deserve to be happy. Maybe i’ll do, too, in a far future.

With you, i learned that holding onto the past won't make me feel better. I learned my lesson the hard way, but thank you. In the end, we had good memories, i hope you still remember those and don't see me as a monster.

Once again, i'm sorry, things just can’t be erased, however, they can get cured and become a good scar in the future. With sorrow;

Lee Sujin.

[c-ptsdrecovery]

Fanny Price and Emotional Abuse

colubrina replied to your post “Emotional Neglect in Austen”

I would actually love to read your analysis of Fanny Price if you ever had time and inclination to write it out.

Oh my goodness, where do I start?

Fanny Price is abused and neglected from start to finish of that novel. She suffers direct emotional/verbal abuse from Mrs. Norris, bullying from Maria and Julia, excessive criticism from those three AND Sir Thomas, and emotional neglect from Lady Bertram and Tom. She also suffers PHYSICAL abuse and neglect, mostly from Mrs. Norris, who does not allow her to have any heat in her room in the winter and forces her to work beyond her strength in the summer even though Mrs. Norris KNOWS she’s chronically ill (and it’s no wonder, considering the amount of emotional strain Fanny’s under, that she should be chronically ill!). 

The only person in that house who even notices that she’s utterly miserable from the trauma of being torn from her family is Edmund: he’s the only one who treats her like a person and is kind to her. It’s no WONDER she falls in love with him: he’s the only person in the entire family who doesn’t treat her like SHIT. But while Edmund recognizes Mrs. Norris’ behavior toward Fanny to be beyond the pale, he generally does not seem to notice that his more immediate family also treats her horribly. Lady Bertram treats Fanny as a servant, putting her own (Lady Bertram’s) needs and wants before Fanny’s (”You don’t want to go to the party, do you? You want to stay home with me because I get bored if you don’t!”). Sir Thomas is generally so critical and cold that when he greets Fanny kindly on his return from Antigua she is “nearly overcome” by his kindness. Even Edmund himself begins to both emotionally and physically neglect Fanny the moment he gets interested in Mary--leaving Fanny for ages on the bench alone, keeping her waiting too long for her horse when she needs to exercise, etc. Fanny only gets noticed and included as a member of the family when Maria and Julia are both gone and the family is apparently bored without them--the same reason Henry decides to flirt with her.

The result is that Fanny has almost no self-esteem. She has completely internalized Mrs. Norris’s lesson that “Wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last.” At one point she parrots the lessons she’s been taught by the treatment of the entire family:

“I can never be important to any one.” “What is to prevent you?” “Everything. My situation, my foolishness and awkwardness.” “As to your foolishness and awkwardness, my dear Fanny, believe me, you never have a shadow of either.”

She believes she’s foolish and awkward because the family harped on her lack of education and “refinement” when she first came to them, and they have drilled into her, not only that she is not important to them, but that she can never BE important to ANYONE. Classic result of emotional neglect. And Fanny NEVER actually gets over it, throughout the entire book.

She’s nearly silent through much of the book too, mostly because she’s too terrorized to talk. As someone who was similarly brainwashed by emotionally abusive parents, I can tell you that taking any attention under some circumstances feels excruciating and guilt-inducing, because you’ve been conditioned so hard to believe that “being the center of attention” is somehow morally WRONG. Fanny suffers from precisely that false belief (note her distress when she is required, by the social rules of the day, to start the dancing at her own ball--Sir Thomas basically has to SCOLD her into it!).

That said, it’s amazing to note the one way in which she DOES have self-esteem: she believes in her own moral judgment. This is the only basis on which she is able to think and act independently of others. When Edmund treats her badly, she gets seriously annoyed. When she notices Henry’s bad behavior toward Maria, she is indignant. She secretly judges Mary Crawford the whole way through the book. I would attribute this trust in her moral judgment to be the result of the kind of long walks and talks she has with Edmund in the text and has had her entire life: he has molded her to think of things with the same moral judgment he uses and to think herself capable of being superior to others in that moral judgment. Of course, since she has absorbed the moral tone of Edmund, learned from Sir Thomas, she is pretty judgy sometimes, since Sir Thomas clearly feels himself and his moral code to be superior rather than conservative. She certainly feels superior to her birth family (with some reason, honestly lol), because in this one thing she has been taught that the family she grew up in was superior to others. She has imbibed this superiority and acts it out when at Plymouth.

Let me give you an example of Sir Thomas’s conservative moral code. You might think, from reading Mansfield Park, that Jane Austen disapproved of private theatricals, and that they were generally considered too naughty by the Better Sort of Person. It turns out that this isn’t true at all. Not only were private theatricals popular, but Jane Austen enjoyed performing in them and even WROTE some plays for that purpose! One of them involves a gentleman sitting on a lady’s lap!! It turns out that the strait-laced tone of the novel is not so much a reflection of the author’s standards of conduct, but of Sir Thomas’s, imbibed by Edmund and then Fanny. Edmund, Fanny, and Sir Thomas’s dislike of private theatricals would have been a bit PRUDISH at the time, not the obvious standard of Good Breeding.

Another thing the novel has imbibed from Sir Thomas is its insularity. The modern criticism of Mansfield Park talks a lot about the family’s isolation. Now, I don’t hold with the criticism that makes a big deal out of Fanny marrying her cousin and implying that that’s incestuous, because in the 19th century, cousin marriage was not only acceptable but a norm. Marrying your cousin was often considered desirable because it strengthened family ties and kept money in the family. BUT, I completely agree with the observation that the Mansfield Park family seems to shun the outside world. 

One thing that I don’t know if the criticism has commented on is that dysfunctional families often function like cults. Offspring of dysfunctional families tend either to rebel and “run away” (Maria elopes, Julia elopes, Tom rebels) or to fail to establish autonomy (Edmund takes a living in Sir Thomas’s gift and later the house right down the road; Fanny never gets out of the family at all because she marries Edmund). Dysfunctional families also teach their members not to trust those outside the family circle. They don’t tend to socially interact much with others. I can say from personal experience that my parents have VERY few friends that they see outside of work or church, and only one couple that they invite to the house regularly. As a child, I rarely got to have birthday parties with my friends: my parents would instead invite my extended family. I was taught not to establish strong bonds outside the family, to trust the family only to be generous or to help and support me. I find it difficult to establish strong ties of friendship outside the family or to trust those friends to support me the way my family might.

The Bertrams are the same way. Maria and Julia go to local balls, but that happens offscreen, and we never meet any of their acquaintances except Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth (who become family). The family disapproves strongly of Tom’s having such an active social life away from home, and disapproves when he brings home a friend (Mr. Yates) to stay. Even when Sir Thomas holds a ball for Fanny in the house itself, we never actually meet any of the guests except the ones we already know! And the “last straw” that causes Edmund to agree to join the theatricals is when they start asking people “outside their circle” of Mansfield and the parsonage to participate. He also deplores that they might invite in an audience of these personae non gratae. Frankly, it’s amazing that the Bertrams were willing to open their family circle enough to let in, not only the Grants, but the Crawfords.

I’ve gone on for quite awhile, but I’ll close like this. When I first read Mansfield Park, I hated it and I hated Fanny, because she had no backbone and cried all the time. Then I watched the 2007 adaptation with Billie Piper, and realized that although Fanny was so shy and retiring and weepy, she had an iron backbone in that nobody could make her do what she thought was wrong. Mansfield became one of my favorite Austen novels.

At the moment, I don’t feel like I can reread MP. I’m dealing so much with my own history of emotional abuse and neglect that MP strikes just waaaay too close to home (also the reason I can’t rewatch Tangled right now). I’m not sure how much I like MP anymore, frankly. Austen did a fantastic job of accurately portraying a victim of emotional abuse. And she gave Fanny what she wanted at the end, which was Edmund. But I can’t help wondering if Austen herself wished she could have ended the novel differently. She comes right out and says, authoritatively, that if Edmund had married Mary, and Crawford hadn’t run off with Maria, that Fanny would have married Crawford and been happy. She could have escaped from her abusive family, with someone who really sees their abuse: “And they will now see their cousin treated as she ought to be, and I wish they may be heartily ashamed of their own abominable neglect and unkindness.” If Crawford and Maria hadn’t run off together, the ending of Mansfield Park might have been entirely different--and it MIGHT have been better.   

[theangrypokemaniac]

I'll state from the beginning that the images below display the sort of sweet synchronicity to which only love can give life:

MaAndPaShipping is the best ship, and here are five reasons why:

1. It Made James

Like the boy do yer? Ever felt the slightest tingle of warmth at the mention of his name?

Well get down on yer knees and give thanks to his mother and father for gifting him to the world!

Where would we be without their remarkable commitment? Could James have grown into the dandified dream boat of your desires if deprived of the safety provided by his parents?

Had they not brought him up, he'd be dead, The Dog of Flanders fantasy made reality. If miraculously he survived, foraging in the wild is not conducive to a foppish personality.

Is that to yer fancy? No? Then let's have a little respect. The luxury Ma and Pa gave enabled his macaroni tendencies to reach such heights.

Their love created him! How can it not be celebrated?

You lot would ship Jessie's parents but you can't, because she has no dad, and I don't suppose you'll ever assent to his obvious identity of Windy Miller, although 'Jessie Miller' has a wonderful ring to it, so what can be done?

Should a Pa Jess be conjured for the purpose, he still buggered off, didn't he? Where's the allure in a faithless git?

I can't comprehend the obsession with Ma Jess. As soon as here she's stiff, and what is there to remember but coercing her daughter into eating snow?

Hey, I named her. What more do you want from me?

I'd rather have the living, visible ancestors, if you don't mind.

Yeah, says the history fanatic.

Why not make the most of the chances offered, and follow a devoted couple whose love made a difference to your existence?

2. Canon!

There are many ships which I find repulsive for involving depravity, or absurd as the subjects haven't met, or don't inhabit the same fictional universe.

Video et taceo: I see and I say nothing.

Neither does anyone. Forcing decent folk in to incest, bestiality etc. is quite alright.

Perverted ideas are left alone, but woe betide a Rocketshipper, because that's offensive.

It may be the only original ship left standing, with proper evidence and sanctioned by Nintendo, but no, it's fair game for undermining. People pick at your arguments, quibble constantly and NEED to register their objections NOW. You MUST be made aware of opposition. You're not to be permitted your views the way those with twisted tastes are indulged.

Why, out of tens of thousands of combinations, does making Jessie and James an item provoke hostility?

The strength of negativity actually serves as validation, for why be so concerned if it's an impossible relationship?

However sick they are, I'm not anti any ship. I can't muster sufficient interest to do it, and if I scroll on, I forget. I certainly don't attack those responsible.

Anti-Shipping is inherently nihilistic for promoting loneliness. They aren't against Rocketshipping through wanting Jessie and James to be with someone else, as an alternative is not readily available, so the outcome of it is neither finding a companion.

MaAndPaShipping attracts no sourpuss silliness, for 'tis canon beyond question. There's nothing about being 'just friends' when married with a son.

How's the state of your O.T.P.? Not looking too clever I expect, and what's your contribution: wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying?

Cast it off! None of that longing is necessary in these quarters, as MaAndPaShipping is a fait accompli.

Hallelujah! Wallow in that Love!

Don't you yearn for at least one ship that all of us accept by default, to the extent these aristocrats are spoken of as a single unit?

Across the internet, Ma and Pa are bracketed as 'James's parents', never 'he' and 'she', always 'they', barely counting as distinct characters. That's how undeniable the love is between them. Sheer indifference has awarded it a blessing from everyone.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

Of course, now I've drawn attention to it the moaning will start, but we all know a spoilsport when we see one.

If they had any legitimate complaints they ought to have mentioned 'em before this piece highlighted the marriage!

Except it won't have occurred to 'em previously, proving the eternal, indissoluble quality of MaAndPaShipping.

You get good value with this one.

Find a post referring to Ma and Pa as individuals and I'll have written it, for that's what you call ironic.

3. It's a Fine Rocketshipping Proxy

I was at primary school when Pokémon hit the West like the bright, bearded meteor it is, atomizing all competition for a child's attention.

I have shipped Jessie and James before I knew anyone else did it, unaware shipping was even a thing.

There are other pairs where I think: 'That seems to fit', but it's incomparable to what I feel for them.

It is part of me. I bleed it.

I have shipped it longer than most Tumblerries have dwelt upon the earth.

I used to believe, what with the hints and manga finale, that this resolution was  inevitable, and all I had to do was wait.

Well I've been patient for two decades now, thus when I look at the modern incarnation, and realise it's no nearer to that goal, and instead is further away, waiting starts to wear a bit thin.

I resent the lack of appreciation shown to the fans by the cretins in charge, how any meagre shippy inclusion is done not with an interest in deepening bonds, but with the blatant cynicism of moulding us into performing monkeys dancing to their manipulative tune.

I dislike being treated like a sea lion, expected to clap me flippers at the wave of a fish, or as a panting dog begging at top table, where, because they're desperate to maintain the status quo, every scrap flung down from above now comes with an Anti-Ship kick in the teeth, just to be sure nothing progresses. Not whilst the franchise can still be milked for all it's worth.

I have lost faith Rocketshipping will happen. What passes for Pokémon today carries not the remotest indication of any intention on the so-called writers' part to finish it that way.

Even if it did, it's not my Team Rocket, it's those skeletal, gargoyle bastardisations. My Jessie and James never got the reward they deserved.

I'm somewhat in the market for a replacement. Beneath this loathsome carapace of acid and ice beats the tender heart of a true romantic, and it must have an outlet!

Shipping Ma and Pa provides a certain spurious relief, because it's as close as you can get to Jessie and James without it being them, both biologically as his parents, but they're so similar to the duo it counts as proof in itself.

Holy Matrimony! is prime Rocketshipping territory, not merely the balloon lift, but many slight additions are as important, like the haircuts matching.

Ma and Pa are therefore Jessie and James in the past, present and future:

The past for representing Jess 'n' Jamie gone Victorian, and we've all wondered how that'd turn out.

The present as it's there right now, absent of suffering the shameless whims of morons to get what you want. 'Tis yours to savour.

The future as a glimpse of Jessie and James once married with children, and they agree:

That's how they play it given the opportunity!

What, James in blue, for his and Pa's hair, and Jessie wearing purple, like Ma's, with a red shawl for her own, and Ma Jess's orange earrings to copy the beads?

• Money!

• Bun!

• 'Tache!

• Classy pad!

• Fancy gear!

• Pampered pet!

• Identical cups of Earl Grey!

4. Original Blend

Ma and Pa have only got two fans! We care more than the entire fandom has in twenty years!

Rocketshipping art is ten a penny, so why not display a pioneering spirit, sharpen up those pencils and be inspired?

Let your mind expand and marvel at the possibilities of these unchartered territories, and I'll reblog it if it's nice.

Pay attention to the condition of it being nice. I'm not putting up with any old toss.

Real Ma and Pa is what I want too, not those Sinnoh coffin-dodgers.

It's never been done! Every drawing breaks new ground!

I don't like fan fiction, but I wouldn't say 'no' to that either. Recall the 'nice' stipulation again.

Come on, be the first amongst your friends and get ship shape!

5. It Gives Us All Hope

Suppose your favourite amour one day became canon: you imagine that's the end of the matter?

Well it ain't.

Between Ash, Misty, Brock, Jessie, James, Gary and Tracey, there are three-and-a-half out of fourteen parents (Flint doesn't count as a complete man) and one out of twenty-eight grandparents, and that's not enough!

If the series drew to a close with your beloved couple apparently walking into the happily-ever-after, there's no guarantee it'll endure. In fact, the odds are they'll split up within a few years and leave another generation to fend for themselves or starve.

That's right, so don't presume the final episode is all you need to worry about. Can you rest easy knowing it'll go pear-shaped once the camera stops rolling?

It's futile soothing one's worries with:

Oh, but they know what it's like to be alone. They'd never inflict such stress on their children.

Oh really?

Look at that poor showing of grandparents. Either Pokémon has a system reminiscent of the sci-fi film Logan's Run, where everyone over thirty is vapourized, or these disappearing maters and paters were themselves victims of abandonment.

I bet when they settled down, they thought it'd be different for their kids, they'd make sure of it, but no, off they went down that same route of feckless self-indulgence, and that's being kind assuming they intended not to repeat history.

Depressing eh? What's the good in any of us surrendering to romance, real or otherwise, if love is but a mayfly of emotion, and all dreams are doomed to die?

Then Ma and Pa arrive, and suddenly the storm clouds part for a ray of heavenly light.

It's not only that they made the effort in what was probably an arranged marriage and have stayed together from youth, it's that they've stayed together when no one else has, which augments its value.

When separation is commonplace, sticking it out becomes rarer and rarer as any belief in the sanctity of wedlock erodes with every failure.

If they didn't bother, why should I? What's the use when it won't work?

Once that idea enters your head, it's over, and your gloom-laden attitude fulfils itself.

Society is collapsing about Ma and Pa's ears, but they persevere nevertheless, refusing to buckle under the turgid malaise engulfing the arrogant and weak.

It's bloody beautiful, man!

You may suggest an environment of supreme wealth erases normality, and to their class and time period divorce is still taboo, so they don't really have much of choice but to remain wedded.

Ah, but it's not as if they simply tolerate one another for appearances, or carried on for the sake of their son (which is more than anyone else did besides), not when he walked out on them.

They've been married longer than James has lived, so at least eighteen years (don't all squeal at once), and they're still blissfully contented!

They hold hands!

They use terms of endearment like 'dear' and 'my precious'!

They were made for one another!

They work as a team!

They want the same thing for James!

It could bring a stone angel to tears it's so beautiful!

See what success can be achieved when you try? When you endeavour to love the one you're with and make yourself worth loving in return?

Better that than chucking 'em at the first sign of trouble.

Ma and Pa is such an irrevocable union even the despair of losing their only child failed to tear 'em asunder, and that'd defeat many, but not this husband and wife.

Be grateful, for it means all is not in vain.

It doesn't have to be misery and pain: love can last despite the pressure of a wretched, hollow culture bent on self-destruction. Your ship might just succeed too.

God bless 'em for keeping the magic alive!

...

Why do I have the presentiment that I'm going to regret encouraging support?