#i think we as a society started declining the day we started throwing around the word queerbait a bit too casually

[cancelmecowards]

i just finished binging the good omens book and series what do you MEAN to tell me that there are people that think aziraphale and crowley arent in love ???????

[readingforsanity]

Before I Met You | Lisa Jewell | Published 2013 | *SPOILERS*

After her grandmother Arlette’s death, Betty is finally ready to begin her life. She had forfeited university, parties, boyfriends, summer jobs - all the usual preoccupations of a woman her age - in order to care for Arlette in their dilapidated, albeit charming home on the English island of Guernsey. Her will included a beneficiary unknown to Betty and her family, a woman named Clara Pickle who presumably could be found at a London address. Now, having landed on a rather shabby street corner in ‘90s Soho, Betty is determined to find the mysterious Clara. She’s ready for whatever life has to throw her way. Or so she thinks...

In 1920s bohomeian London, Arlette De La Mare is starting her new life in a time of postwar change. Beautiful and charismatic, she is soon drawn into a hedonistic world of the Bright Young People. But two years after her arrival in London, tragedy strikes and she flees back to her childhood home and remains there for the rest of her life. 

As Betty navigates the ups and downs of city life and begins working as a nanny for a rockstar tabloid magnet, her search for Clara leads her to a man - a stranger to Betty, but someone who meant the world to her grandmother. Will the secrets of Arlette’s past help Betty find her own way to happiness in the present? 

A rich detective story and a captivating look at London then and now, Before I Met You is an unforgettable novel about two very different women, separated by seventy years, but united by big hearts and even bigger dreams. 

Possible triggers: Mention/description of rape, abortion, drugs-use, alcoholism. 

Elizabeth, who will later become known as Betty, is uprooted from her home and taken to the island of Guernsey to live with Arlette De La Mare, the mother of her stepfather, Jolyon. She is only 6 years old when she meets Arlette for the first time, described as a strict woman. But, Arlette quickly takes a liking to Elizabeth, choosing to call her Betty, which she takes too quickly. 

Arlette, 84 years old when they meet for the first time, quickly declines in health and Betty, despite being young, decides to care for her. At the age of 21, Betty loses her dear grandmother and in her will, she is given 1,000 pounds, the house in which they lived being left to Jolyon and her mother Alison, and a mysterious woman named Clara Pickle is left the sum of over 10,000 pounds. Nobody knows who is this mysterious Clara Pickle is or could be. Betty takes it upon herself to move to Soho and find this mystery woman in order for Arlette’s will to be completed. 

Upon arrival, she meets a variety of characters, including John Brightly, who works in the markets below her flat. Though he comes off as rather unfriendly, the two strike up quite the friendship and he introduces her to his sister Alexandra, who is also involved in the historical society and is willing to help find out the truth about Arlette and this Clara. 

In flashbacks, we learn about Arlette during the roaring 1920s. She arrived in London, despite telling her son and Betty later in life that she had never left the island where she grew up, and took up to living with her mother’s childhood friend Leticia, and her four children. She strikes up a friendship with Leticia’s daughter, Lilian, a few years younger than Arlette. She finds a job at a well-known department store in the lady’s fashion department. 

One day, while walking around at Christmas time, she is essentially discovered by a man named Gideon Worsley and his strange group of friends. Gideon is a portratist, and offers to paint her. While she agrees, she brings Lilian along but quickly, the two of them strike up a friendship. And through Gideon, Arlette is introduced to the world of clubs and the jazz scene of 1920s London. 

Though it appears that Arlette and Gideon are forming more than a friendship, one night, they are introduced to Sandy Beach, also known as Godfrey Pickle. While he has his trio, he is also part of an orchestra that is rather well-known. Arlette is immediately taken by Godfrey, who is a man of color, and the two of them embark on a love affair for the ages. 

However, after Godfrey leaves for a tour outside of the country, her relationship with Gideon begins to blossom but when Godfrey returns, the two of them take up right where they left off. Arlette loses her virginity to him. Once he leaves again, Gideon feels as if it is now his time to make his move on Arlette. At her birthday party, he corners her and takes her into the back garden of the house owned by Leticia, who has thrown the party for both Arlette and Lilian, and rapes her. 

4 weeks later, Arlette realizes that she is pregnant with Gideon’s child. Despite having options, Arlette chooses to end her relationship with Godfrey and marry Gideon, though she knows that this will make a sexless, loveless marriage. The two are married at what would now be called the courthouse, and for 6 months, she grows the child that was made from an act of violence. But, around 6-7 months of gestation, Arlette gives birth to a son that is stillborn, ripped from her and taken without her even seeing the child. Arlette, devastated by the loss but knowing that everything happens for a reason, ends her marriage to Gideon and decides to move back in with Leticia and her family. 

She decides to visit Godfrey, but when she goes backstage after a performance, she finds another young woman waiting in the wings. Her name is Esther, and she is pregnant with Godfrey’s child. Despite him giving her money to “get rid of it” (an abortion), she can’t go through with it. After having overheard this, Arlette packs up her belongings and returns to the island to be with her mother. 

Arlette keeps in touch with both Lilian and Minu, a friend she had met and lived with briefly, and she learns of what becomes of both Godfrey and this other woman. Esther was moved into a home for unwed mothers, and while Godfrey had been performing in Scotland, the ship he was traveling on ended up colliding with another ship, and 8 members of the orchestra had drowned, Godfrey included. Esther gave birth to a daughter named Clara Tatiana, and was given up for adoption. 

Ultimately, Betty feels responsible for finding this mysterious Clara. During her research, she finds the portrait of Arlette and Godfrey that Gideon had commissioned for them, and several others that he had done. She meets his great-nephew Jeremiah, who owns an antiques shop. Her friendship with John Brightly continues to grow, and in the meantime, she also meets pop-star Dom Jones. Dom, recently separated from his wife, ultimately calls on Betty to help watch over his children, and she is eventually hired on as their nanny by his ex-wife Amy Metz, also a famous popstar. 

Dom is taken with Betty, and even invites her to live with him, but Betty declines his offer, knowing that Dom’s cheating ways will never end. She and John, at the end of the book, begin a relationship. 

Betty does ultimately find Clara. Her last name is now Davies, and she was adopted by a white couple, who told her that her mother was raped by a black man, a sailor, and that they were to enver speak of it. Betty meets with her, and tells her the truth of her father, though she isn’t sure about much after that. Betty, along with Jolyon, Alison, Alexandra and Clara go to Gideon’s childhood home to see the portrait of Arlette and Godfrey, and everything is back to normal for Betty and her family. 

When I chose this Lisa Jewell story, I was hoping it would be similar to the others I have read. Lisa Jewell, by all accounts, is a wonderful thriller author. This story, Before I Met You, is simply a love story with many mystery aspects to it. At first, I was wondering if I’d even be able to finish the story as it is long...and oftentimes a lot of information isn’t needed in order to understand the story. 

The two different perspectives, that of Betty in 1995 Soho and Arlette in 1920-1922 Soho were easy to follow along with. But, there was a lot of information that wasn’t needed in order for the story to move along fluidly. 

In the second half however, it picked up and became a lovely read. 4/5 stars of GoodReads. 

[otere06]

The giant medieval North American city (~1050-1350 A.D)

I've been learning about a large city called Cahokia. It was around the same size as cities like London were around this time (~1200 A.D) So I guess you could call it a medieval city. But it wasn't in Europe. It wasn't in Africa, the middle east or Asia. Not in South America even.

It was in modern day Illinois in the U.S.

What you have to understand is North America had agriculture, they had towns and villages with distinct characteristics, and they weren't innocent people living in harmony with the land, like any good human being they knew how to change the land. For example, the mound builders.

Cahokia was a small town which suddenly and mysteriously exploded out of nowhere. Starting around 1054 it got BIG. They built big mounds, and a GIANT central courtyard.

*Not a real picture, but one of the most accurate artist depictions there are.*

1054 was the year a giant supernova was clearly visable in the night sky, and the dates line up so perfectly there's a good chance people thought it had something to do with their religion, and that inspired the start of the city.

Also after 1054 this area started having stuff like art that eerily resembled art and stories from Mesoamerica. Believe it or not North American societies weren't isolated (they had complex trade routes spanning the whole continent), and so it was theoretically possible for people from modern-day Illinois to get Mexico, it wouldn't have been easy and accessible though, but all it'd take is a few people spreading the word of what they saw. Even though it's debated, there's a chance Cahokia was inspired by Mesoamerican cities.

All these different nations and tribes moved to Cahokia and it became a real big melting pot. In this city you would've found kids playing in the streets, families working to get by, maybe a lower class, an upper class, and some dudes in the middle, edgy teens, old guys missing the good old days, artists making pottery and/or drawing cool stuff, creative people thinking of new stories to entertain people, athletes practicing at Chunkey -

--about Chunkey.

*European depiction of a tribe playing Chunkey. The game didn't originate in Cahokia and it ended up surviving the mysterious fall of the city and was still around centuries later.

You had to run with an arrow, and throw it at this rolling stone with a hole in it. This was the most popular sport, so of course people were gambling and freaking out over it. There were definitely people who hated it though, because throughout history no human beings have ever been a hivemind.

They also occasionally preformed human sacrifices. (Seriously Americans back then why?!)

Then Cahokia declined around 1350. The end.

But what happened? All we actually know is people slowly moved out. One of the strangest things is that there is absolutely no oral history about Cahokia, even though archeology proves it was most likely a central cultural city for the area, like Rome was. Speaking of which, the area around that part of the U.S was fragmented into tons of tribes and villages which were fighting with each other for power, which is what happens after a society collapses and there's no more central power keeping things together.

But wait- the people would live on, survive the collapse, what happened to them? Well the religion and Mississippian culture lived on, but at some point in history new people came on their floating villages from a faraway land. Diseases would spread and kill around 90% of people, making things even worse. Then some of the Europeans might have seen the descendants of Cahokians. People from a collapsed society further damaged by disease. What would people from an up and coming continent like Europe think of people from a collapsed society that was almost completely forgotten?

"ugh, what savages."

Obviously not actually that simple, but it's a fun narrative. They didn't have a lot of stone structures or writing, which is why people don't know about it. Don't be fooled though, this would've been a sight to see.

*Archeology has let humanity rediscover all these monuments and locations in the city, and show how it looked at its peak.*

One day our society will collapse, it might take 5000 years, it might take 50. What's important is how we're remembered. History is ultimately won by people who can leave cool stuff behind.

[achillieus]

we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in  denial, sexual tension all around the place

tagging: @tonystankschild​

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 2/3:

And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.

“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”

-

(your late night instagram search history)

(00:38 AM) #literaturememes

(01:15 AM) @buckybrns

(01:30 AM) #newgirl

(01:50 AM) @buckybrns

(02:10 AM) @buckybrns

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.

-

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.

And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.

He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.

He offers and you decline.

“We need to concentrate on the project.”  

“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.

“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.

Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?

-

He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.

“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”

A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.

“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”

There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.

Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.

Example 1: Not valid anymore.

Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.

That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.

Example 2: Not valid anymore.

It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.

“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”

Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?

“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”

“I did?”

Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?

“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”

“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.

Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.

“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”

Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.

Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.

“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.

“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.

What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.

“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”

It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.

“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”

You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.  

You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.

“You should go.”

And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.

-

your inbox, the next morning

(10:25 AM) from buckybrns@gmail.com

              I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.

-

For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.

It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.

Yeah, he’s starting to notice.

And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.

(his late night instagram search history)

(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes

(01:30 AM) @y/n

(01:50 AM) #funnycats

(02:15 AM) @y/n

(03:45 AM) @y/n

-

You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.

The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.

They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.

-

“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.

What do you want Bucky?

Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.

Y/N, he almost says. Always.

“Vodka.”

-

He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.

“Your place is on the other side of the building.”

“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.

Why the hell did you follow him here?

Because sometimes you do stupid things.

Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.

“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”

“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”

He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.

“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”  

“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”

“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”

His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.

“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.

...

feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)

[arkus-rhapsode]

Bnha chap 302 was crazy! So many stuff have been revealed! What did u think of it?

(So before I start, I just want to say, sorry it took me a few days to answer this. when discussion recent chapters of MHA, I’m trying now to wait for the official release before posting anything. I know I haven’t always been the best when using scans vs official releases, but I’m going to try and make this more a  thing. Given some flack I’ve received in the past, as well as recent crack downs by shueisha. So you can send me asks like this, please I’m not discouraging it. but you’re just going to have to wait till after the official releases.)

With the preamble out of the way OH MY GOD! This flashback chapters are amazing! Like this has been the kind of stuff I’ve been waiting for in MHA after the metric crap ton of build up by Horikoshi. And its not disappointed.

First, I do likeEndeavor’s gradual decline into is asshole self from Shoto’s memory. It’s vocally recognized that Endeavor is breaking societal taboos with his Quirk Marriage. Not only his selfish wishes to have an ultimate child to surpass All Might, but Toya is basically one of the worst combinations of this selective breeding. Being that he has stronger fire than Endeavor, but he has resistance to cold temperature so he’s just burning his body.

Yet Endeavor still is more focused on surpassing All Might. And when he comes to the realization that Toya will never surpass All Might, he decides to make a his real ultimate child. Now the reason I like this is because this isn’t Endeavor just being like “I need to surpass All Might with the perfect child”, its also, “I need to create my ideal child which will surpass All Might and act as a deterrent to Toya wanting to be a hero.”

Now, I love this scene, not just because no matter how Endeavor tries to justify his actions, he is still ultimately breaking societal conventions just to selfishly surpass his rival. But it also shows, Endeavor is aware of Toya’s feelings. He KNOWS Toya won’t stop trying to be a hero. He’s not some ignorant to his son wanting to live up to his dream of the ultimate hero. But his plan to stop Toya is not altruistic. It’s still selfish. His plan is literally to make an actually superior child, just to get his son to give e up. Its probably the worst thing you can do.

And most recently in 302, when that doesn’t work and Toya still burns himself and tries to attack Shoto. Endeavor finally just decides to no longer deal with this. personally. He is leaving Toya to Rei and is just going to focus on Shoto. He’s pushing a problem onto someone else and NOW he’s just ignoring it.

And then he just doubles down worse from there. Actually becoming more of the abuser that Shoto and Natsuo remember. All because Rei couldn’t keep Toya in line. Even though Toya was his son too.

It’s been awhile since we have seen Endeavor as the antagonistic figure. And I know the story of Endeavor will always be a tough one because its ultimately one trying to redeem an abuser. And I like that in this flashback, we are really reminded of why Endeavor wants atonement, because what he did to his family was wrong. And now we’re actually seeing it. Hell, some of it is more uncomfortable because we now see, its not like Endeavor was so pure evil psychopath, he gradually slipped from some wrong-headed jerk who was breaking taboos who is aware he’s doing bad things but pushing forward to ignoring his problems he’s caused to finally lashing out at his family as if it’s not also his responsibility. 

And we see a man who is regretful. But he still made mistakes. And I like that this hasn’t just been for the audience, this has been for Endeavor. Because he can no longer keep those skeletons in his closet nor is he in a position to throw himself a pity party. Again, we still have to wait a few chapters before we see like how this pays off. But Rei is reminding him that if he really wants to make things better and prove he’s a better person, then let’s start by getting his house in order.

Speaking of Rei, this has been a pretty interesting character study for her as well. We see Rei as pretty much a passive player both in the series up to this point being in a hospital, but also in this flashback. She agrees to be Enji’s wife and while she’ll speak up, she doesn’t stop Endeavor from having more kids. Nor does she stop him from really separating the kids. She also brings it up that like Endeavor, she didn’t really “see” what was really going on with Toya.

While Endeavor may have thought a deterrent of making him Toya give up would work, Rei try to just talk to Toya about looking beyond his father, but its not just wanting his father’s attention that is driving Toya mad. Its the fact that his birth was solely to make an ultimate Quirk users and if he’s not then his whole creation is pointless.

Because at he core, she is still complacent with this arrangement. From her family to the fact that when she can’t actually stand up to Enji, she then starts lashing out at the children who remind her of them. She has hurt her children too and its wrong. But unlike Endeavor who is really now just trying to come to grips with that, Rei has clearly stewed in that self loathing for a while. And now, she’s not being passive, she’s now taking a stand and being the one who needs to pull Endeavor out of his own self-pity.

Its very nice to see this character who, like Endeavor, has transformed over the course of this union.  

Now what does this mean for their marriage? As this seems to be the root cause of here passivity. I’m not sure. But Hori has given me no reason to think he’ll do something crazy with it. So I’m going to wait and see.

Now onto the man himself, Toya. Man finding out about Dabi has been a trip. Because at first it seems like he just wants his dad’s attention. To be proud of him. But its more than just that. Toya has a fire in him that won’t go out.

Toya’s “fire” isn’t this drive to be number 1 hero and get the glory. Its literally the validation of his existence. Because he was made to surpass All Might. If Toya can’t do that, then he failed at his existence. 

It really pulls back that Dabi doesn’t hate Endeavor because of abuse like Rei, Shoto and Natsuo. Dabi hates Endeavor because he was born solely to fulfill his mission, and when he was physically incapable of doing so, he replaced him with a child who could. It hurts to watch.

Because Dabi will never get over the fact of why he’s here in the first place, I think a lot of kids when they get older have that realization about why they’re here is because of their parents. And Toya can literally trace why his father made him. As he recalled with Snatch.

Just contemplating his family and why he’s here. He lost it.

We also get some cool details on Dabi’s powers. With his flames growing even stronger from red to blue, but also that the burns around his chest that we first saw in his video is intentionally so he could both hide the burns but also avoid hurting him.

There’s also the fact that his flames are tied to his emotions. Probably why whenever we see Dabi he’s mostly irate and disinterested. But when he finally had to get infront of Endeavor and the world, Dabi lets all his emotions come out. Letting him use flash fire and be wary more gleeful in his destruction. Yet we see that any times he cranks up his emotions, he always starts crying. Like he did with Snatch and Hawks. Which is such a subtle touch that I love.

There’s also his unique resentment towards the women in his family more than Natsuo. Now Endeavor we know he clearly hates, but when it came to Natsuo, he ignored him. But he knew Rei and Fuyumi the longest, and they did nothing for the longest time.

We also see the beginning of Dabi’s use of faux concern about society and using it as a way to turn people on Endeavor. 

Dabi has stated he doesn’t care about the League of Villains. Even in his big speech about how its Endeavor’s fire that let him kill people, he knows that’s a lie too. He would talk about confiding in his beloved brother, but if it meant making his dad suffer, he would’ve killed him.

Dabi’s hate is for one man, and if he can use anything to make Endeavor’s existence a living hell, he’ll use it. And we see that his hate is justified, but he will wrap that hate in a way to get others to feel like him. Its very effective.

Its just nice to see a villain who gets a bunch of build up LIVE up to all his hype. Its not like a let down, its just opening more doors to explore.

And now we get to the Todoroki family. Where do we go from here? Well Dabi isn’t just an Endeavor problem or a Rei problem, its a family problem. They all share the burden and Dabi will be their goal.

And I like this because, for the most part, Shoto completed his arc in the Sports Festival of hating his dad, but then accepting this is his power and looking beyond Enji. And while that wasn’t the end as he still has to make his choice on wether to accept his dad as a changed man or not, that’s more part of Endeavor’s goal. Shoto has been sorta like Deku and Bakugo with a focus on being number 1.

But now he has real and true personal motivation that no one but this family can really address and I am excited. I’m glad that the prominent characters of this series like Shoto has something to do. I get that all the kids in UA will never truly get this treatment. They have focus, but they are still mainly supporting cast. But having a main character really be able to justify why they’re up in front is great. I’m eager to see what awaits the Todoroki family in the future.

[laurensprentiss]

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 8:

Warnings: None, really. Emily and Hotch get to know each other, Emily picks up vibes.

------

“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.” - David Richo

------

You stare absently out of the window, clutching the lapels of Hotch’s blazer that he’d draped over you. Every so often, you feel the dread in your bones again, a brief moment when your stomach drops as you remember back to earlier. You inhale long and deep when you do, trying to ground yourself and the action doesn’t slip Hotch’s attention who sits next to you, gripping the steering wheel so hard, the leather might wear. 

He glances at you. “It’s okay. Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Your eyes feel heavy, drooping of their own accord. You try your best to fight your exhaustion, but the exertion only serves to heighten the throbbing in your temple. You glance over at Hotch as you set your head against the cool glass of the window, the buzz of the car engine and the heater lulling you to sleep. 

The sun is almost set when you wake up, your eyes blinking rapidly as you try to adjust to the dark. You’re parked outside of your apartment building and Hotch scribbles something on a notepad next to you, using the streetlight to illuminate the page. 

He clears his throat when he spots you stirring from the corner of his eye. He sits up straight. “Hey.” He whispers with a smile. 

“Hey.” You inhale deeply and adjust in your seat to face him.  “How long have I been out?” You ask. 

He checks his watch and raises his eyebrows in surprise. “About an hour.” 

He’d lost track of time himself and completely screwed protocol. He’ll pay for that later, he thinks.

“An hour?” You exclaim.

“Yeah.” He winces. “I’m sorry. You looked really peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.” 

Truth is, he had spent the better part of that hour watching you as you’d slept when he’d parked up, the setting sun casting a golden hue on your skin. He’d debated carrying you up to your apartment but didn’t want to chance waking you, even turned his phone off. Another thing he’ll pay for later, he thinks. 

Headlights appear behind you, and a car pulls up to the sidewalk at your rear. Hotch peers at the rear view mirror and squints, the lights almost blinding in the dark. You turn around in your seat to get a better view.

“Emily.” You reassure him when you see the familiar figure in the driving seat. He shoots you a puzzled look, his eyebrows furrowed. “My friend. From the restaurant.” You remind him.

You start to undo your belt and Hotch climbs out of the car, making his way around the front of his car to open your door, offering you a hand as you step out. 

Emily walks towards where you stand next to Hotch, the two of them offering each other polite smiles. Hotch extends his hand to take Emily’s bags from her, as she immediately gathers you into another hug. He holds the doors open for you and Emily, waits until you guys are inside to trail behind you, giving a quick nod to the two undercovers pulling up on either side of the street. 

“Wait. Why were you guys still outside, you should’ve beat me here, right?” Emily asks. 

———

You reach your hands for the main light switch when you step into your apartment, Hotch setting Emily’s bags down on your sofa, turning a table side lamp on and setting his keys down as he does. Emily tracks his movements carefully. 

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in the hallway, your makeup smudged, eyes still puffy from the tears and sleep. 

You groan.“I need a shower.” 

“Are you going to be okay?” Emily asks, concern etched in her face. 

“Yeah, I think I can handle a shower.” You chuckle dryly.

You tell Emily and Hotch to make themselves at home while you freshen yourself up. You shrug off Hotch’s blazer, gathering the sleeves and the lapels and folding it in half, placing it back in Hotch’s arms. His face betrays his cool and collected demeanour, his eyebrows pinched and his eyes wide as he watches you move closer to him. He looks nervous, as though you’re about to break. 

He wants to reach out and hold you close, brush the stray hairs off your face, wipe your eyes. He settles instead for a light brush of your fingers against his when you hand him his blazer - a ghost of a touch, really. That doesn’t stop you both from shivering a little at the contact. 

Once you step into the shower, Hotch and Emily take the chance to get to know one another better. He extends his hand towards her, introducing himself. 

“Agent Hotchner. Aaron.” 

She takes his hand. “Emily. Prentiss.” 

Hotch circles around your couch and to the kitchen, opens the fridge and helps himself to a bottle of water,  Emily’s eyes stay trained on him as he does. He offers her a bottle, she declines with a quick shake of her head. 

He goes on, “So, how do you guys know each other?”

“We’re friends through our parents.” She explains. “I’ve known her since she was a kid.” She stalks over the kitchen island, propping her elbows on the counter, her gaze pointedly falling to his water bottle. “I think the more important question, though, is how do you two know each other? You certainly seem comfortable.” 

Hotch follows her gaze to the water bottle in his hand, stutters guiltily, but can’t really place why he feels that way. 

It throws him off. “I was- I’m. The ambassador, he-” Emily raises her eyebrows challengingly. “I’m a part of the security detail assigned to her after the events of last year.” 

“I thought that was the other guy.” She asks. “The older guy with the beard?” 

He takes a sip of his water and nods. “That’s my partner. Agent McCall. Ben.” She nods approvingly and he relaxes a little. 

“So, where are you with catching this guy?”

He updates Emily and provides her with the profile they’d worked on, a pinch of guilt when he remembers how he’d avoided you for those two weeks. He shakes it off and suggests Emily take a cognitive interview, ushering her to to take a seat, remembering that she would probably be the best witness of this afternoon. 

“I’m going to need to ask you to close your eyes.” She shoots him a doubtful look. “Humour me.” 

She clears her throat, closing her eyes.

He continues, “Okay. Think back to when you’re at the restaurant, what it smells like, what it sounds like, what the weather is like.” 

She nods and inhales slightly, as if breathing in the smells back at the restaurant. She talks him through the warm weather, the sun shining. How she got there first and how she saw undercovers pull up before you and McCall arrived. 

“How did you know they were UC’s?”

Her eyes blink open and she shrugs. “Occupational hazard, I guess.” Hotch frowns. “Well, my mother’s occupation - but, same difference.” She laughs.

“Okay, well, what about afterwards? When you guys sat down?” 

“We were just talking, I don’t know?” 

“Okay, focus. Go back to when you greeted her. You guys sat down? What did you guys talk about? What made her leave?”

She tells Hotch that you just caught each other up after everything you had missed since you briefly lost touch, that you'd told her about your stalker.

“Why did you guys lose touch?”

“My mother was in Rome for a year.” She shrugs. “We tried to keep up but she had school and personal stuff. We talked about her dad’s health scare, her ex-”

“-Her ex?”

Emily blinks at Hotch, gauging his expression carefully. He’s questioning her under the guise of work, but he’s not that good at concealing his microexpressions - yet. She doesn’t miss the way his face falls for a split-second, or the way he tried to nonchalantly question her about Jordan by cutting her off, the bob in his Adam’s apple as he’d swallowed. 

“Yeah..” She trails off. She thinks carefully about how to proceed, still watching him carefully. “They broke up last year and I guess they reconnected recently.” She says the last part flatly, with little intonation, wants to see his real expression. 

She has a sneaking suspicion that there’s something that extends further than just work for him - maybe even more than friendship, especially after she had seen the way he had held you earlier, the way he touches you like fragile glass, the way he swallows when you come too close. But she wants to be sure.

“What’s his name?” He asks, his left eyebrow arched. 

His nostrils flare slightly and he sniffs nonchalantly as he pulls out a notepad and pen from his blazer pocket that’s thrown on the chair. He writes down Jordan’s name and tries his best to keep a hold on himself. He can finally put a name to the face he saw you with after you visited Quantico that day. 

Reconnected? 

What does that mean? Reconnected? 

He takes his details from Emily and asks her some questions about him - he justifies it to himself as procedure. He’s going to have to question this person after all, why not learn a bit more about him to gain the upper hand? Emily just tells him you guys dated on and off until you broke it off for good. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Why’s what?” Emily asks. 

“Why did she break it off?”

“I don’t know. She never really said. He’s just weird. Sleazy.” 

All she really knows about him is that his father’s a congressman and works on the Hill - Ambassador Prentiss has far reaching arms, after all.  She remembers seeing him at dinner parties and society balls growing up, but that’s around it. 

“And what happened next?”

“After that, her mood changed? She was laughing one minute and quiet the next - I could tell something was bothering her.” She picks at her fingernails. “And then she left. After that, I don’t know what happened.” Her voice is almost a whisper, she thinks maybe if she had done something, if she had said something, reached out sooner - maybe none of this would have happened. 

“I know what you’re thinking, alright. Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.” 

“Yeah.” 

She hears the words, but it doesn’t alleviate the guilt she’s feeling right now. Her stomach drops suddenly as she thinks back to something she remembered feeling while at the restaurant, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. 

Hotch sits up straight. “You just remembered something, what is it?” 

Emily’s eyes widen. “I felt like someone was watching me.” She says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I thought maybe I was being paranoid about the UC’s or your partner.” She trails off again. “But right before you got there, I was just browsing the menu. There was a guy. He bumped into my table but I couldn’t see his face, it was - it was sunny and he- he was wearing a hat.” She rushes out, gesticulating with her hands. “He squeezed my shoulder when he apologised as he walked past, I remember thinking it was gross, because he lingered.” She shudders.

“Okay. You’re doing really good. What else?” 

“Well, when you guys left out the back, I walked back to the front to get my car. I had the feeling somebody was watching me again.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you feel somebody was watching you? Think.”

“I heard a voice. His voice.” She panicks. “Oh my God, he was talking to a cop. I remember hearing him telling the cop that the screaming was so loud. He said it sounded like someone was dying. But he wasn't looking at the cop, he was looking right at me.” She feels nauseous.

He nods. “Excuse me.” He ducks out of your apartment to make a ten minute phone call to Barnes, rattles off the information he got in his cognitive with Emily. “We need to question the staff and any cops that responded today. CCTV, too.” 

He hangs up and sees three missed calls from Haley, groans when he realises the time. She’s probably asleep but he figures he can still call her, at least she’ll know he checked in. He paces the length of the hallway, the phone to his ear and he waits for the inevitable command to leave a message. He’s about to hang up when the receiver clicks, Haley’s voice coming from the other end. 

“Hello?” She pants.

“Hey, it’s me.” He frowns. “Are you alright, why are you out of breath?” 

“I had to run to grab the phone.” She chuckles. “What’s up?”

He’s surprised he isn’t getting the third degree, that she isn’t more mad. He figures they’re still good after their make-up high, both of them vowing to do better. 

Still. 

He clears his throat. “Nothing. I just wanted to check in.” He can hear rustling in the background, figures she’s probably cleaning or about to tuck in for the night. “I don’t think I’ll be home until around 1 or 2am, we had a situation.” 

“Okay. That’s alright, honey. You take your time, I’ll see you when you get home, okay?” She sounds chipper.

“Yeah.” He’s caught a little off guard at how laid back she’s being but he figures he doesn’t want to jinx it and count his blessings too quickly, bids her a quick goodbye. 

He’s about to make the walk back down the hallway into your apartment, when the elevator dings behind him, McCall stepping out. 

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you for another few hours.” Hotch says patting him on the shoulders. 

“Barnes told me what happened, I figured I’d come and relieve you, it’s 11 o'clock man.” 

Hotch runs a hand over his face and groans. Truth is, he’s shattered and wants nothing more than to just find the closest bed and sleep undisturbed for at least 12 hours.

Inside, you’re rattling around in the kitchen, pulling pots and pans from the cupboards, setting some pasta on the hob when Hotch and McCall walk in. 

“Hey! You’re out of the shower.” Hotch scratches the back of his head sheepishly when he hears his tone, and realises everybody else just heard it too. 

Emily watches him with a smile and McCall just ducks his head and clears his throat, reaches to shake Emily’s hand and introduce himself. 

“Yeah. I- I feel a lot better. Thanks.” You smile. “I realised none of us ate all day though, and cooking soothes me, so pasta it is.” 

Emily reaches up to your cupboards for some more glasses, two already in her hand. “You guys staying?” 

Please stay. 

“Ben will be, but I gotta get home, sorry. Maybe next time?” Hotch offers. 

Oh.

You can’t ignore the disappointment in your chest when Hotch turns to walk out, but you swallow it down and say goodbye, anyway. You weren’t quite ready to let go of him today, he was a comforting presence and you’re not really on even footing yet - for some reason he helps to centre you. The disappointment you hold in your shoulders isn’t missed by Emily who offers you a knowing smile and motions over to the sofa where Hotch’s blazer lies. 

Your eyes widen as you set down the knife and circle around the island to grab the item, shooting her an awkward smile as you do. You click the door shut behind you. 

“Hold the elevator!” 

Hotch’s hand comes up between the two doors as they’re about to close, his eyebrows furrowed when he sees you jogging towards him. He steps out as you close the distance between you. 

“You forgot your blazer!” You sigh. 

“Ah.” He apologises quickly and goes to take it from you, but you open up the lapels and sleeves motioning for him to put in on instead. 

“It’s cold outside.” You whisper.

You hold it out to him and he tucks his arms into the sleeves, stepping into it as you help him put it on as he bends slightly so he can meet your height. You absentmindedly brush some dust off the shoulders as he turns back to you, a small smile on his face. You’re so close to him and he can’t find it in himself to look away, his gaze flitting to your lips. He can smell your soap, feel the heat radiating off your body. 

You clear your throat and step back a little. 

You share a look, a dangerous, vulnerable gaze that feels like it’s stripping you both bare. It’s there in front of you, something that hangs unspoken in the air, glaringly obvious, yet you both neglect to face it. 

“Well. I should-” he points to the elevator behind him. You nod when he presses the button for the elevator to return, the floor numbers appearing above the doors. 

You chew on your lip, frozen in place, unable to leave  but unable to do what you actually want to do. It’s only when he steps on to the elevator and is staring at his shoes that you call out to him again. 

“Aaron?” 

“Yes?” He says almost immediately, head whipping up. 

You try to formulate the words but your head still feels jumbled, too busy and you’re beginning to have an alarming realisation that you desperately want to push to the back of your mind. You don’t know how to say what you’re feeling, panic rising - you only know that your emotions are bubbling over and you want to say something, do something to show your gratitude. 

“I just.” You take a step forward. “Thank you.” You shake your head, not knowing what else to say. 

Almost on instinct, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping on your toes to reach him, burying your face in his neck. The air leaves his chest as you embrace him, the unexpected, but long awaited contact taking him by surprise. His warm hard body is solid against you, as he ducks down, his arms wrapping around your waist, one hand coming around to your ribs. 

He squeezes gently, inhaling the scent of your hair, the two of you just sharing a brief moment, quiet in the chaos. Your arms flex around his shoulders, holding him close - close enough to make him feel what you want to say. His own hands flex and tighten, warm over your sweater, almost radiating heat as he brings you closer to himself. 

He swallows thickly, his heart pounding. Absurd thoughts penetrate his mind, a realisation dawning on him that he tries like hell to push deep back down into the abyss. It doesn’t help that you’re right in front of him, warm and comforting, intoxicating. 

But he can’t. 

It’ll pass he thinks. 

You stay in the moment for what seems like a long while, a ding breaking you out of your moment. You sniff slightly and loosen your grip on him, his arms unwinding from around your waist, the both of you bereft at the loss of contact. Your cheeks brush as you let yourself down, his coarse beard hair scratching pleasantly against your face. Your hands trail down his chest slowly over his dress shirt,  the tip of his nose against your forehead. Your eyes flutter from the gentle contact as you glance up at him, his eyes hooded, one hand still on your rib. His thumb rubs gently, back and forth over your sweater, his gentle eyes staring back at you, taking you in. 

You swallow thickly and force yourself away from his magnetic pull, stepping back gently, before you do something you regret. Your arms cross over your chest in an automatic act of self-preservation and unconscious comfort. He steps back into the elevator, his cheeks a little flushed, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips - but there’s something in his eyes. Something intense, that pulls at you and you daren’t let yourself hope and be carried away by it again. 

You feel it. But he couldn’t possibly, you think. 

He feels it. But you couldn’t possibly, he thinks.

“Goodnight.” He whispers, his voice hoarse. 

“Night, Aaron.” 

———

The lights are off when he gets home around 25 minutes later, only their bedroom window illuminated. He thinks maybe Haley fell asleep waiting up for him, he wasn’t supposed to be home for another few hours yet anyway. He quietly closes the door when he gets in, toes his shoes off and tip toes across the floor to get himself a drink of water before he heads up. He takes special care to remain light on his feet as he walks, he knows the worn old floorboards in their cheap rental home creak horribly, even at the lightest pressure. 

Almost on cue, the floorboards creak upstairs directly above him but travel towards the end of the upstairs hallway. His ears perk up as he follows the sound, travelling back from the end of the upstairs hallway after a few moments, and down the stairs as Hotch walks out of the kitchen curiously, glass still in hand. He walks out to Haley running down the stairs, her face flushed. 

“Hi! Honey! You’re home.” She pants a little. 

She throws herself into his arms and he finds himself a little rigid and unable to fully return her embrace. His face contorts and he finds his mind wandering to the way you’d slotted against his body perfectly, the smell of your hair, your cheek against his. 

He feels a tug at his chest. 

She releases him and plants a kiss on his lips, but his eyes stay open, eyebrow quirked slightly in confusion.

“I thought you’d be asleep. I didn’t hear anything when I got in.” He tells her. 

She grabs his hand and pulls him upstairs. “Well I was getting ready for bed when I heard you pull up.” She chirps. 

It’s odd, he thinks, her tone of voice. Especially at this time of night, and he can’t ever remember her being so happy to see him, especially after a full day of work. She’s usually the opposite, full of biting sarcasm and jabs. She seems on edge now, teetering on the edge of hyper. The bedding is rumpled and he frowns at that, has never known Haley to unmake their bed unless it was right before bed. He can’t find it in himself to think too deeply into it, though, the sight of a bed inviting nonetheless. 

He loosens his tie a little more, and finally lets out a yawn, turning to go to the main bathroom to get ready for bed. 

“Where are you going?” Haley asks, eyebrows raised, a tight smile on her face. 

He points out to the hallway. “To the bathroom?”

She shoots up. “No, no! The faucet. It’s uh, well I don’t know what it is, but it’s not working. Gotta call the plumber, I guess.” She rattles off in a single breath. 

He concedes. “Fine.” He’s exhausted and all he wants is to sleep. 

He ducks into their small not-even-a-half-bath ‘ensuite’, that consists only of a toilet and a sink. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and realises he looks even worse than he feels, he didn’t realise that was possible. He neglects brushing his teeth tonight, settles for swilling some mouthwash and changing into his shorts and calls it.

Haley isn’t there when he emerges from the bathroom, a frown on his forehead soon appears at her almost skittish behaviour. He can’t summon the energy to care too deeply, though, slipping under the covers, sleep calling out to him. She reappears moments later, telling him that they had forgotten to turn the downstairs lights off before they came up. 

“Hm.” He replies, already half asleep. 

He only hums as she slips in next to him, their backs to one another. He dips into an almost instant deep sleep, rest coming easy to him once the thoughts of your warm embrace surrounds him, granting him solace. 

Haley on the other hand, lies perfectly rigid, her hands under her head on the pillow, her mind swimming and heart pounding as she listens for the receding footsteps in their front yard. 

———

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[poormeowmeowcollector]

We would name our children Jackie and Wilson

Relationship: Loki/Female Reader (Hozier did the gender first, don't @ me)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mourning, mental health, alcohol.

Summary: Your relationship reminds you of a nice soft song. But things are not always so sweet.

Notes: this is part of a somewhat Collab with @lucywrites02, her part is done and can be found here, read it to soften the pain. I would say that I'm terribly sorry for the pain ahead, but I'm not. Meaning of the song can be found here, I used it for reference

Read On AO3

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

Loki fights for a deep breath.

It's just your face, you idiot. What are you afraid of? This mean voice from the back of his head asks.

They manage to draw a shaky inhale and puff it out, finally opening his eyes and staring at the reflection.

But those hateful crimson eyes staring back is too much, even though they look at them behind tears.

"Maybe another day…" he sighs and wears the illusion again. But the bloodshot eyes stay, this time not because of the Jötunn form.

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

For how long will you hide from the monster you are? This same voice asks in the dead of the night.

Once again, it's not mistaken.

"I can't walk amongst mortals like this. This illusion helps me avoid some of the staring," they respond. It's a beautiful lie, Loki almost believes it.

Still, it will break down. Like everything does.

This argument stays and torments him for the rest of the night.

Soul deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine / For reasons wretched and divine

Stark had suggested another night out on a bar. Loki usually declines, but comes to this one.

Soon enough, everyone is drunk and happy. Alcohol from Midgard is like a beverage for Æsir, and Loki can barely get tipsy. But Loki still decides to drink.

This period had some very successful missions, and the avengers are celebrating it by drinking. Little do they know that Loki drinks for a whole more different reasons…

She blows out of nowhere, a roman candle of the wild

It's late. Loki's surely past the tipsy phase, but still has control. So, they just sit on a bar and watch the others have fun.

"Would you mind some company?" you yell from a part of the crowd. Loki tries not to flinch, loud sounds do no good at him.

Then they see you, all smiling and beaming like a firework, drink in hand as you walk closer and point at a stool beside him.

They have to admit, you look ravishing.

"You're free to sit, if you want to," he smiles back and nods at the seat. You grin and slide there, placing your drink in the bar and having your attention to them.

"Are you not afraid someone might drug the drink?" Loki winders, eyes on the cocktail.

"Sitting beside an Avenger is safe enough, don't you think? And it's rubbish anyways, I probably won't finish it,"

Midgard has different communication patterns, and Loki's inability to catch up in time has made their silver tongue rusty and useless. But you make a conversation with him out of nowhere, like it's the most easy thing.

Laughing her way through my feeble disguise/ And Lord, she found me just in time

A few days later after the night out, the sparks of happiness you casted on Loki's heart have died out. But Thor insists that being out of the four walls of their chambers will do good to him, and Loki gives in. They wear an illusion to hide the mess that he is in and join Thor on their afternoon walk around for some food, mostly.

During the hours long conversation, you didn't mention that you work for Stark, in the Tower. They smile and call your name the sparks igniting inside his heart once again. It gets stronger when you give them this glowing smile and walk closer.

"Brother, will you mind if I get stolen for a moment?" he turns to Thor.

"Have fun, brother," he smiles before greeting you and leaving.

"You know, there's a nice coffee shop with a big tea collection, what do you think?" you beam, knowing it's an offer Loki cannot resist.

It's not far away, and truly a sweet little place, crammed between the offices. You order your drinks and settle on a table nearby. You give Loki the chair with the view on the passers by, sitting so you can only see them and the wall behind him.

"You didn't say you work for Stark," they hum, taking a testing sip of the dandelion tea that caught his attention.

"That's cause I work for the Avengers, technically, not Stark. Mission support agent, Romanov brought me here," you shrug one shoulder. Loki can't hide a smile, they always had a soft spot for humble warriors, for they're so rare on Asgard.

"Odd, I don't remember you in any field," he mutters.

"I haven't gone on a mission with you. I find it insulting for a God to be supported by someone who learned how to tie their shoelaces at age 12," you laugh. Loki doesn't share the enthusiasm for the 'joke'.

"You'll be the best support, if you ask me," they smile, and change the subject. And then, you throw this damned question.

"So, how are you doing?" you trail off.

"Just fine," he scoffs. You see through it like they're the worst liar ever.

"I know we're somewhere public, but you are allowed to be honest," your eyes scan him.

He takes a deep breath and makes an illusion of you and them just talking. Then, he lifts his own.

Your face stays almost unreadable as the green glow reveals the mess of them. Expect for the eyes that speak of sympathy.

Underneath the table, you cup his right hand, your thumb petting it. "If you want to, we can go somewhere more private. Your call,"

"Only you can see this. Don't worry, I'm not making a fool out of you," they laugh without humour, voice almost breaking. You now squeeze the hand.

"You'll have to actively try to make a fool out of me, your highness. It's your boundaries I'm worried about," the playful tone leaves you as you speak.

You've barely done anything, but Loki is already determined to kill for you.

Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done / I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young

"Forget it, I'm not doing it. It's stupid!" he tries hard not to yell at you.

"But it's going to be fun! Come on, you can cast an illusion if you're embarrassed. Didn't you have fun as a teen?" You grin, pleading for them to come.

Little do you know that the last question feels like a knife in the guts.

"No," he whispers.

"Okay then. I'll be there with Sam, you can pop up if you change your mind," you sigh. It takes some minutes for them to realise what you just said.

"Allow me to rephrase it. No, I didn't have fun as a teen, I had to prepare myself for the throne I wouldn't take. And… this park will do nothing but remind me what I've lost. I'm sorry but I can't come nor change my mind," he fights against tears as he talks, your eyes on them. You walk closer and cup one cheek, letting them rest their head.

"Society says that you must have certain experiences at certain time frames. It's wrong, especially for someone who will live for as long as you. There's always time to replace things you've lost, the question if if you'll do it or not,"

Loki gazes at you and takes a deep breath, in, holding it, and out. Almost like he's smoking the air.

"Fine. But don't force me to stay if it's too much," they smile weakly, but it's genuine.

"Have I ever forced you?" you grin and place your forehead against his. "And anything critical to your physical health doesn't count,"

They laugh before nodding a no, a small kiss being blown in your nose.

Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime / Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine

Out of all the things Loki expected his fallen heart to do, daydreaming was last on the list.

They're a realist, always have been.

But the image of him and you in a nice stone castle in the middle of the woods is too perfect to resist. How you two would wake up and sleep together, have no one and nothing to make you feel anything but bliss. The two Monarchs in your little kingdom of two residents

Norns, they haven't even talked to you about these feelings. And he's already scheming his retirement with you.

How are you doing this to them?

Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside / We'd sit back and watch the world go by

"That's it, Laufeyson," he's glaring at the mirror, one finger pointing at the glass, "no more lies. Fuck those illusions and games and just say the damned words!"

They sigh and run their fingers through the hair, testing if the smell of smoke is still in there, after five sessions with the shower. He has noticed that you don't like the smell, when you keep some distance on his bad days. And stinking on a moment like this is the least they want.

"Alright… into the battlefield…" he conjures his weapon, a bouquet of black irises, your favourite flowers. They finally teleport themselves on the field, outside your door.

Goal of the mission: be vulnerable.

He rings the bell, fixing his already perfect posture before you open the door. This smile they know and love so much is on your lips.

"You didn't have to! Come in," you exhale, beaming as you make space for him to walk in.

They call your name, the tone making your smile drop. "I have to tell you something I've been hiding from you for a while…" he sighs.

You nod, the agent face on. A green shimmer makes the flowers rest in a vase on the coffee table, Loki's hands now free to pick on each other.

"I appreciate your friendship, more than you can ever imagine. You're the only person who has reached out to me like this for eons. But, my heart has started to yearn for more. I've fallen for you, hard. And I can't keep the illusion anymore," they recite, eyes scanning your unreadable face. You stay dead serious, making Loki's nerves eat him up.

"Took you long enough," you grin and bring them down to a kiss.

It's nice and warm and slow, one devouring the other while also offering the best you can. Then, a salty taste makes you break the contact and cup Loki's face.

"Love, why are you crying?" you whisper, wiping away the thin paths the tears have crossed. He hasn't even noticed he's been crying.

"You can't imagine how happy you make me… I love you," they whisper.

You barely have time to say anything before he pulls you into the tightest hug possible, tears streaming down to your shirt and those three words coming out of their lips again and again like a prayer.

Loki has no idea how many lifetimes he washed off within just one hug, but a weight they never noticed they carried was gone when you break the embrace and stare deep into his now puffy eyes.

"I love you too,"

She's gonna save me, call me baby / Run her hands through my hair

"I'm telling you, you have to be more careful in the missions. Yes, you are a God, but don't be so reckless," you groan as you rinse them with water and try to remove the blood and dirt from their hair.

Just the right amount of strikes, and he now can't lift his hands enough to wash his own hair. If you weren't so good at it, they would refuse to stoop so low.

"It was supposed to be abandoned. How would I know that it wasn't? I'm a God, not a prophet," he sighs, holding his sides. Even talking is making their scattered ribs pierce him… "And I did call you to save my arse, that's the exact opposite of recklessness,"

"If you say so. But what will I do if one day my baby comes home with something more than a wretched ribcage?" you laugh.

They try to answer but both the pain and the pleasure from your fingers on his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo, are making his tongue a knot and his throat release one moan of pleasure after another.

She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily / Better yet, she wouldn't care

You walk through broken mirrors and scattered furniture, reached out to Loki, who's hiding their head between their knees.

You don't say anything, you just play with his hair. It's cold, much colder than usually. But you don't care.

"Leave, please. You'll get hurt," their voice is growly from the smoking but weak.

"Forget it. I'm not leaving you alone in this state," you declare matter–of–factly. A sound comes out of his throat, something between a chuckle and a cough.

They snap their head up, blue and scarred cheeks wet with tears and flaming red eyes with blue veins all over them drilling holes in you. "Do you dare say this in my true face? Declare that you care about a monster?" He spits, lips shaking as they try to hold back another crying fit.

You face stone, you grib his cheeks to stop them from breaking eye contact. "I am not leaving you alone like this, because I care about you and I love you. And, I don't give a fuck what others have made you think of yourself, you're anything but a monster," you keep your voice steady, trying to physically pin those words in his mind.

They sigh and lean against your hands, eyes closed and breaths slow as tears start rolling down his cheeks again. They turn to kiss your palm, now the rest of his body relaxing and hands bringing you close to a hug. "Thank you," they breathe out against you, the weakest of smiles forming slowly.

We'll steal a Lexus, be detectives / Ride 'round picking up clues

"Feet off or I'll chop them off and put them in the truck," you snap, eyes on the road as you try to find a place to park.

"Relax, it's not ours," Loki brushes off the threat. You sigh and park the car among some trees on the edge of the road, hoping no one will see it. He tries to mask it, like always, but you can see how the pain is making their features harsh.

"You can drop some spells, we're well hidden," you point out, watching as the pale skin starts melting and dark azure replaces it. Your skin crawls, you don't know if it's the cold or the awe. Loki breathes out, head resting back on the seat. "I didn't know the illusion is so painful," you think out loud.

"When running so low on rest, everything is painful. Now, where are those files…" they mutter and turn around, searching for the yellow case in the back seat. "Here. Do you have any idea?" he asks, giving you the file.

"I'll probably find something to milk. Now get that rest before you pass out on the field," you glare at them with that Look. He grins and nods before laying against the window, a thin layer of frost already forming.

Then, they start laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask, not looking up from the report you're reading.

"Before I even talked to you, I had the honeymoon trip already planned in my brain, with too many versions to count. This wasn't even on the list," he straightens up and smiles. You laugh too.

"Well, it's not exactly as bad as you make it sound,"

"Norns, are your standards so low or are you so disappointed in me?" They raise one eyebrow.

"Neither, love. Now get rest before I have to knock you out," you smile through threatening him.

"Kinky, might try it later," they wink and lay back down, his breathing deepening some minutes afterwards.

We'll name our children Jackie and Wilson / Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

You're laying against them, smiling like an idiot as he runs a hand on your stomach and feeling this new anomaly.

"Are you sure?" you ask, watching a small wrinkle from between their brows.

"Yes. Two of them. Perhaps boys but I can't tell yet," he whispers, hand still resting there even though the spell is over.

"Twins… we will become parents," you smile, breathing out and laying against their shoulders.

Loki calls your name. You turn around and he rests his forehead against your own. "I love you so much, you know that? All three of you," they grin. You chuckle and close your eyes, accepting the kiss that's definitely coming.

"You know, we'll have to name them something," you point out after they break the kiss.

"Narfi and Vali," he's… quite fast on picking up the name.

"No way,"

"Why?"

You freeze. "It's silly…" you mutter.

They cup your face, glowing green eyes on yours. "It's bothering you,"

"It's the myth… how Narfi and Vali suffered in the myth because of your… because of Loki's mistakes… I don't want this to happen to the little guys," you sigh.

"Then, do you have to suggest another name while I'm trying to think of a second choice?" he smiles.

"It's even more silly," you giggle.

"At least it won't be your mythological dead kids,"

You take a deep breath. "Jackie and Wilson, from the song," you are ready to hear them laughing at you for the suggestion. But he just smiles.

"Jackie and Wilson…"

Cut clean from the dream that night, let my mind reset / Looking up from a cigarette, she's already left

Loki has no idea how long they've been staring blankly at the ashtray, the suit in front of him mocking him.

It's maybe the first time they're so hesitant about wearing all black.

It was supposed to be a small mission, nothing dangerous. You were supposed to be back, safe, within an hour.

You were supposed to raise your sons and retire in that castle in the middle of the forest.

Why was he so foolish to believe that he deserves a happy ending?

"You have to collect yourself. You have to say the farewell, a fucking thank you for all you've got from it, you coward!" they spit at the mirror opposite to them, hand tensing and breaking the cigarette in half.

A deep breath, in and out, a tight squeeze on the wedding ring hanging from his neck, and they stand up to put the damn suit on.

I start digging up the yard for what's left of me in our little vignette / For whatever poor soul is coming next

The funeral is over, the farewell has been said. But there's a small dinner coming afterwards.

Out of all the public appearances, this is by far the worse. Malevolence is something Loki has learned how to deal with a long time ago. But these eyes of pity are unbearable.

The strangers, probably reporters or Stark's acquaintances, coming to express their "condolences" are at least few enough to allow Loki to slip away to the bathroom.

He sits on the cold floor, this numbness drowning him. They hoped you had made it go away, but you just suppressed it. He wants to cry, to scream, to beg to whatever cruel Deity did this to bring you back. But their mind cannot give the order.

He takes your phone out, opening the music app and wearing your earphones. They press play on the last song you listened to, only to hear some familiar chords echo from the small device.

You were muttering this song all the time since you found out about the pregnancy, it's no wonder it's the last tune you listened to. But the upbringing melody of the song and the dark emptiness in Loki's heart are painfully opposite.

He sits there and listens to the whole song in silence, trying to milk some happiness out of it.

But they only manage to whisper along the last two lines, or an alteration of them. Just before he starts weeping at the tile floor until Thor finds him.

"We would name our children Jackie and Wilson, Raise 'em on rhythm and blues,"

[somemultifandomshit]

Prompt Request Harry x Allie; The Society

30. “ You’re jealous.”

Allie loved her life in New Haven. She never thought she would, especially after the first few years. Fortunately, things started turning up after the fifth year.

The mayor status has been alternating the last ten years. Helena, Harry, Grizz, Becca, and herself had been taking turns every two years in the position. It’s saved them from the animosity they used to face.

There was a town meeting tonight, Harry was the mayor this term. It was about the recent discoveries made towards finding home again. This meeting was set up weekly for any and new inquiries.

Allie pulled Emily onto her lap as she watched Harry from the back row, trying to keep her quiet. It was almost impossible these days as she was nearing three years old and Allie found it to be the loudest age.

“Any other questions,” Harry’s voice echoes.

After a few moments of silence, “alright, then. Meeting adjourned. See everyone at Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

She felt Emily squirming in her lap, letting Allie know she was ready to get down.

She let her go and watched Emily run straight through the walkway of the church.

“Daddy!”

Harry turned just in time to catch Emily from the conversation he was having with Helena.

“Agh, my big girl came to the grown up meeting,” he said smiling at her.

“Allie,” someone called her.

She turned to see Clark calling for her.

“Clark,” she responded in the same tone.

He walked over to her from the entrance double doors, stopping just a foot in front of her.

“Hey, are we still on pick up duty tomorrow morning,” he questioned her smiling.

She took a step back to put more distance between them. Clark would get like this. He’d make some excuse to talk to her about work or mayoral duties, invading her personal space, while being extra sweet.

“Same as every Monday, Clark,” she comments to him.

“Well, how about we carpool this time? I could use the company,” he flirts.

Allie opens her mouth to decline him with some excuse but gets cut off by the voice behind her.

“Thanks Clark, but I think she’s got better company elsewhere,” Harry says icily.

Harry comes to stand next to Allie and puts one arm around her shoulder while the other one is occupied carrying Emily.

Allie smiles politely at Clark, “We’re gonna head out Clark. See you tomorrow.”

Allie, Harry, and Emily made their way out the church on their way to the Bingham home.

-------------

“Em, baby, why don’t you go get into your jammies and daddy and I will come tuck you in, in a few minutes,” Allie kisses Emily on the head before she jumps up the stairs.

“I could use the company, psh,” Harry mocks from the kitchen.

Allie makes her way to him and rests her hands on the island listening to him ranting.

“I mean where does he get off. We’ve been married for five years, we have a family, and he’s still trying,” he trails off slamming the cabinets searching for an unknown item.

“You’re jealous,” Allie giggles.

Harry stops rummaging through the kitchen to give her a look.

“Don’t look so amused, this isn't funny. We got a serious problem here,” he says half amused half frustrated, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, do pray tell,” she says mimicking his stance.

“I’m a mayor, Pressman. I can't exactly go around throwing punches at Clark.”

He leans back against the counter, she can see the anger filter through his eyes.

“However, if he doesn’t quit,” he pauses, “mayoral status be damned.”

She crosses the distance between them and pulls his hands out of it’s crossed position, lacing their fingers together.

She leans up on her tippy toes and presses a quick, sweet kiss on his cheek.

“You, me, Em, forever. There’s no one and nothing else that can come in between that.”

He smiles down at her and she can tell his anxiousness has disappeared.

“Come on, let’s go put her to bed,” Allie pulls him by his hand towards the stairs.

“You’re wrong you know. There is one more person,” he comments.

She looks back at him confused.

“Baby Bingham Number Two.”

---

This was so fun! I love domestic!Hallie any day. 

PROMPTS: OPEN 

[silverhallow]

I have to admit that I was pretty disappointed that Benedict and Sophie stayed away from London and big social events. Don’t get me wrong, I understand that Benedict is an artist and he loves nature and peace - so does Sophie. What I’m trying to say is that I had high hopes before finishing the book, that they will figure everything out (Sophie being from lower class and being illegitimate child), that Benedict will want to give her everything she never had, life she never had, it seems weird really (because she is loved like never before and completely happy) but I do mean things like nice dresses, house in London, attending beautiful events, balls and all that. I do like the actual ending, I just expected that they will make their way in society without anyone having questions and asking about Sophie’s family history, that they will be accepted by others like by Benedict’s family.

And I also miss them in other Bridgerton books after they move to the countryside.

Welcome to another addition of Ashley’s Benophie TED talk….

with your host

Me 😁

let’s take a look at today’s topic:

Married life for our babies

So as you can probably imagine I have a LOT of feelings on this subject…

I completely understand Benedict and Sophie’s love for the country. It’s where they feel at home, it’s where they raise their family and create that family and eventually they do have family around them but… that being said…

I would love to have seen Sophie in London more - this is why I write just that.

we know Benedict and Sophie do venture into London but maybe not often so this is what I see happening.

They do not spend the full season in London for more reasons that just Sophie not being fully accepted. Because let’s face it… with a Duchess for a sister and a Viscount for a brother they wield a lot of power and influence they just didn’t want to

Benedict hated London society. He hated the way the Ton treat him and there was no way he was going to subject his wife, the love of his life, to the viciousness of the women of the ton. They have no need for a full season in London.

I believe that if Kate or Daphne were throwing a party… that if Sophie wanted to go, they would go and I’m sure the women would try and host them close together to make it worth Sophie’s and Ben’s time.

Wiltshire to London was a two day ride. So I imagine they would go for maybe two weeks at a minimum.

Once Benedict gets his paintings in the National gallery more invites start to arrive in Wiltshire for them.

They are at liberty to decline them… and the families who tried to shun Sophie get shunned themselves. They can choose.

Benedict does treat his wife to the new dresses and time with Kate shopping whenever they are in London.

They go to balls and whenever she is in town Lady D invites Sophie to her Den of Iniquity parties (and Sophie wipes the floor with them)

Whenever they are in London Benedict makes sure Sophie is spoiled.

As time goes on and people see Sophie and Benedict’s devotion to one another is more than that of the Viscount and Viscountess they stop questioning the match

I believe that by the time Benedict’s second painting is in the National Gallery so just before Violet is born, they could have a house in London and be full members of the Ton once more as Benedict has built up his own reputation and people would want his work and know the best way to get to him is through his wife…

Benedict and Sophie just choose not to.

They love stopping with Kate and Anthony with all the boys running riot with Charlotte and Violet as their ring leaders and life’s tormentors.

Sophie has everything she wanted in life and gets the best of both worlds in the end.

This is the stuff I try to write in my regency work and if anyone would like to see more please send some prompts my way but yes

I believe we were robbed of married life of our babies and I’m doing what I can to fix that but this… this is what I think would have been the case ❤️

As for the other books you’re right I wish we saw more of them. We know from their epilogue they were in London when Colin married

And whilst their part in TSPWL nearly killed me… I loved them and I’m a firm believer that Ben and Eloise’s family spend A LOT of time together

Thanks for listening… well reading my TED it’s been a pleasure

[conservativetradlife]

Hi! I’m a feminist who would like to dedicate her life to intellectual/spiritual/humanitarian pursuits (think St. Hildegarde, haha) as opposed to a domestic calling, but enjoy your content nonetheless. I hate the amount of people (many of whom are men) who use the “trad” label and quote Ephesians ... all while posting internet porn, or say disgusting things like “women’s holes are for *insert disgusting porn-addled comment here*”

I had written out a long response to this a few days ago, but pressed a bookmark when I was pulling up a tab and lost everything I had written. I was frustrated and decided to take care of this ask at a later point, and today feels like an appropriate day to do so, due to what I am seeing on my Dashboard today. Some of my points will be controversial. I get that, but please be respectful in answering, arguing or messaging me about my points.

Firstly, I want to encourage your choice of lifestyle and life goals. If your general pursuits for life, if its something you are truly passionate about (not simply attempting to personify a Saint while forgetting your own interests and desires outside of your perceptions of St Hildegarde) then all the more power to you. I think its a noble pursuit and the world is better off with more focus being directed towards Spiritual and Humanitarian activities. I will keep you in my prayers :)

I like to believe that my content is less centered around the ideals of domesticity and more towards intentional living. I started this blog wanting to idealize the Homemakers of the 50′s, and I have slowly began to realize what Traditionalism means to me and what kind of content I wish to put out into the world. I am idealizing my own life and hoping that those who share a similar vision for their futures (even if its without children or marriage) find comfort in my content.

Now, when it comes to the sexualization of the Traditional lifestyle (or at least, what some people believe to be traditionalism) I want to say very briefly that I understand what ‘kink’ is to people, but I also know what BDSM is supposed to be and the general servitude of women to their ‘Dominant’ halves is the only thing that rings even slightly familiar with what BDSM actually is and stands for.

To me, the sexualization of the Trad Women (someone who wishes to take up the classic ‘cultural norm’ of being the homemaker and Mother. Someone who relies on their husband as the prime breadwinner and finds self worth in their role in the home as Mother, Wife and Homemaker) is a sad example of where we as a culture have degenerated to. To know that men are craving a woman who WANTS to be wife and mother, who WANTS to be a stay at home woman and feels fulfilled by these pursuits, rather than what modern media has exposed as desirable. Women who are in media, exposing themselves, using their sexuality as their confidence and their general demeanor being viewed as crass and unattractive, in comparison to the modestly dressed religious wife, who stays home and bakes cookies and is waiting at the door when they get home.

When in history have we, as a society been so over-sexed? 

When has pornographic content and sexually motivated news been so easily accessible? It is literally at our fingertips (via our cellphones, or simply looking at our various socials.) Its no wonder that someone would find sexual pleasure in the counterculture of someone who is the visual polar opposite of what they are blasted with daily. Someone who keeps their sexuality exclusive, who is honorably modest to themselves and to God, but most importantly, keeps what is meant to be sacred between a husband and wife (or between partners) private and sacred. It says a lot about our culture when that becomes the case.

Unfortunately, I find the vast majority of people who sexualize the lifestyle of a Traditional Women, are suffering from what my husband calls ‘Porn Brain.’

We feel as though we have to justify the fact we are attracted to modesty and Traditionalism, by throwing in scenarios that can be sexualized. One cannot simply enjoy what is, without having cherries on top (i.e attaching the sexual aspect to child rearing, preparing dinner, caring for ones husband.)

CARE to some people is defined in specific ways instead of a broad manner. I want to believe that some of the women in this sub-culture realize that to have a family, one needs to engage sexually with their husband if they wish to naturally conceive their children. Without medical intervention, or specific methods of delivery (to be crass, haha 😛) having sex with your partner (one who has testicles, sperm and a penis - to be 100% clear) to their partners ejaculation into their partners vagina (one who has a vagina,  menstrual and ovulation cycle, uterus, fallopian tubes and egg laden ovaries) is the method with which one can conceive children. I don’t think that needs to be explained in the grand scheme, however, I feel as though a lot of Traditional women forget that this (if they wish to be mothers to children they have carried in their wombs, and birthed into the world) is a natural, important part of the process to becoming a Mother. 

I can already hear the masses arguing that you don’t need to have sex to have children. That some people can’t have children (either by their own choice, or because of trauma or physical incapability) and they choose to adopt children, or go through IVF which doesn’t involve sex. Yes, thankyou. I don’t need to be reminded of this fact. What I am trying to express is that Sex is a natural part of a marriage (and there is nothing wrong with that, neither is not having sex for one reason or another. Every marriage is unique and the business of those who are married, not the scrutiny of those around them.) I want to believe that if someone is going to marry their partner, they are comfortable enough to have sex with them. If a pair want to have children the ‘natural’ way, then I assume they go into the marriage understanding that to do so, they need to have sex. 

HOWEVER!! SEX IS NOT THE RELATIONSHIP. Sex is not (and should not) be the focus of a marriage between two people.

 When people fetishize Traditionalism, I find that sex is the main factor that comes with it. They have some of the points that come with what encompasses Traditionalism to some people, but their focus isn’t on what makes a marriage work for both, rather simply looking at the sexual aspect, which is one point of what is part of marriage. It isn’t about the whole, but rather about the woman giving her body over to her husband for sex. It isn’t about the conceiving of children, but rather about mindless self indulgence. To preach religion while one does this, is bastardizing what the unions (both sex and marriage) are meant for.

Linking BDSM terminology with the fetishization, by boiling down the gender roles that come with Traditionalism (the woman is submissive to her husband in trusting that he can care for - financially, emotionally etc) into simply ‘Domination and Submission’ isn’t Traditional. There are equal parts expectation in the Traditional lifestyle, but also in the D/s relationship. The Dominant figurehead of a relationship (in both dynamics) is not simply the one who receives pleasure, while the submissive rolls over to their every whim. To simply view the submissive (usually female) in this role, is grossly oversimplifying a complex relationship between both roles. Just with how a Wife partakes in her role, the submissive does so as well. The Dominant doesn’t just DO what they want without thought of what the submissive wants, just as the husband doesn’t just DO what he wants without thinking of his wife, and that’s where I find problems with how Trads view BDSM, and how fetishists view Traditionalism. Equality is important for both roles, both partners have a say, BOTH partners can consent or decline things they don’t want, sexually or otherwise. If that equality doesn’t exist in either dynamic, then it isn’t a good marriage, nor a good D/s dynamic.

At the end of the day, sex is meant to be between two consenting partners. I believe that sex exists for a purpose and we as a society have been so exposed to it that looking back on relationships when it was sacred and still HAD purpose is incredibly alluring. In the hookup culture world we live in, sex is a commodity, and birth control exists so that the purpose of sex is forgotten. Men who fetishize Traditional Women aren’t looking at Traditionalism as a whole and what it means to be traditional. Its simply over sexed porn brain telling them that ‘once I have a wife, we’ll have sex all the time and she’ll take care of me. She’ll be sexy only for me and want sex with only me, while taking on the homemaker roles.’ 

These people aren’t looking for an equal partner. They are looking for a mother that they can have sex with. Someone that will take care of them, selflessly because they actively WANT to do so, with zero understanding that they themselves have things they want and need to make this an equal partnership.

I’m not going to get into the generalities of BDSM couples (nor how some traditionalists have a BDSM relationship ongoing beside their roles as husband and wife.) I will say that people who are in these relationships, aren’t in it simply for their own pleasure. There is nothing wrong with unconventional (kinky) sex between two consenting adults. What goes on in the bedroom of two people isn’t anyone’s business. Whether you like vanilla sex or whips and chains, its not anyone’s business but the people who are having sex. BDSM is not what’s wrong with these fetishists. Selfishness is what is wrong with these people, who think that having a traditional woman means their sexual needs will be met along with their household and human needs, while they themselves can do nothing.

Now, before I get jumped with another possible argument, about preference, let me quickly say that there is nothing wrong with having preferences in a partner. Some people like maternal women, women who love God, women who prefer to dress modestly, women who are Traditional. However, there is more to a woman that simply being Traditional. My husband loves me for more than just my goals of being a mother and homemaker. He also loves that I can sing, that I do funny dances when I eat good food. That I read books before bed or all varieties and have a dark sense of humor. He’s under no illusion that I am a perfect Trad all the time. Sometimes I want to watch True Crime documentaries instead of doing the dishes and he’ll bring home a frozen pizza for dinner. 

Some people might be wholly dedicated to being Traditional and that can be appealing to people, there isn’t nothing wrong with dedicating your life to something you are passionate about, be that, as you (for example) said, intellectual/spiritual/humanitarian pursuits or otherwise. To do so can be a preference they have, but if that is ALL one thinks encompasses a person or partner and they can’t have interests or things they do otherwise, you find a problem. I am more than just a Tradwife and Mother. So are others.

This has turned into a very long winded explanation to a simple question, and I apologize for going heavily into depth about this. Simply put (or TL;DR) fetishizing Traditionalism isn’t right. There is a purpose for sex and forgetting that is only showing what is wrong with our modern ‘porn brain’ addled society. Linking BDSM to fetishists isn’t right either, because there is a difference between a D/s dynamic and someone who is looking for a doormat. 

Preferring a partner who is Trad and nothing else diminishes a person into basic traits that dehumanizes them into an object that serves ones own selfish needs (”my partner will keep house, have sex with me and be happy because they want to. They’re supposed to be Trad. I’m the man of the house and they cater only to me.”) Woman are more than Trad and more than a sex object. People who forget that aren’t worth the time or energy to engage with and should be blocked on principle so not to circulate false truths about BDSM or Traditionalism. It gives a bad name to both of these kinds of lifestyles.

Thankyou for being patient with me in answering this, if you want to discuss this in depth, my messages are open and I’m more than happy to explain further if there are any questions or counter-arguments to any of the above. 

God Bless and I’ll Keep You in My Prayers 💕

[fandomsilhouette]

we’ll have (a devil of a time)

Felix throws a wrench in Lila’s meticulous planning when he refuses to be wooed by grandiose tales of adventure and daring, when he refuses to give away any hint of what she might lie about to get his attention. Somehow, this leads to Marinette shaking hands with all the wrong (right) people. 

Happy @felixmonth, y’all! 

This new kid, this Felix, is never going to fit in. Everyone can see it the moment he steps through the door on that first day, black suit and scowl in tow, and slouches into the seat at the back of the class next to Chloe, prim and proper, glowering all the while. He catches Lila’s eye immediately, with his tangible air of wealth and power, the sheer amount of usefulness he seems to hold in his brooding body. 

Of course, her interest lasts exactly as long as it takes for Felix to make it very clear that he has absolutely no interest in her, no matter how much she lies or cajoles him into joining the rest of the class. 

“Hey, Felix!” She starts by sidling up to him, turns on the charm she thinks she has. She’s got him pegged, she’s sure of it: a pretty boy like that, all dark and mysterious, has got to want space to be sensitive and vulnerable. He longs to be their friend, and Lila knows it. All she has to do is give him a chance. 

Then he immediately declines her exclusive invite to the Winter Social After-Party (hosted by her, of course), leaving the split halves of her invitation to flutter pathetically to the ground.

“I prefer to spend my time with people of consequence, thanks.”

Just like that, Lila is left scrambling to piece together the torn shreds of her plan. Alright, then. If he won’t be friends with her, he won’t be friends with anyone. 

She lets her gaggle of admirers reassure her over and over that “He was so mean to you, Lila! How could he say such a thing?”, that of course she doesn’t have to associate with a bully (no matter how sweet and generous and self-sacrificing she is, oh!), Lila makes it her business to meticulously bar Felix from each and every social circle she can manage. 

Irritatingly, this suits Felix just fine. He sits at the back of the class every day next to Chloe, making it seem like the back was something to choose instead of somewhere that the lowest echelons of the class, the dregs of society, were banished to. 

Marinette has gotten used to watching the back. She could be exiled at any moment, after all. So she’s seen the way Chloe doesn’t cling to Felix and heard the way Lila and Alya whisper snide comments from their seats next to her just quietly enough that she can’t hear without asking, watched them stiffen and shush on the occasion Felix walks by their table. A slight nervous fidget. A muttered “speak of the devil.” 

Marinette knows that associating with Felix is a social death sentence. She also knows that he makes Lila uncomfortable, off balance. Most of all, she knows that her own social life is hanging by a thread. Marinette is done waiting for someone else to cut the string and send her crashing. Her life is not meant to be waiting for someone else’s choices. 

She finds him at lunch at the backmost table by the trash cans, the table of outcasts and degenerates, lounging in the shade of a tree. Sunlight filters through the leaves, casting him a mottled medley of light and darkness until a cloud passes overhead and sends his features into shadow. He picks at his plate, a vulture seeking a soft patch of flesh.

“Hey.” 

He looks up, but not directly at her. He doesn’t respond. The fork hangs suspended a little above the plate.

“I’m Marinette. You’re Felix, right? I know Lila’s turned the class against you, and that’s pretty rough. I’ve been there. I’m actually still kind of there. I know you already have Chloe, I’d like to be your friend too.” She sits opposite him and begins eating with an air of determined purpose. He waits a long moment. 

“I don’t need friends.” He spits at last. 

Marinette pauses between bites. “Let me be clear. I’m not giving you a choice about this. Call it a partnership if you want, a merger of interests, whatever. Lila is going to wreck you and you could do worse than to have someone who knows exactly what her game is working with you.”

“...I see. And what exactly do you know?” He goes back to eating, unconvinced and dripping with condescension. 

“You know Lila is lying, obviously. Do you know why?” 

“I know very well why.” He says, a sharp edge of arrogance entering into his voice “She makes people like her to get what she wants. I’ve known people like her.”

“And what does she want from you?”

“I’m rich.” 

“You’re cold. You’re standoffish and mean and an absolute prick. You’re an easy target to make her look good. She’s going to be out here doing her best to be your friend,” and she spits that word like a curse too, “and you’re going to ‘bully’ her, turn down her made up offers and snub her parties, and she’ll say it’s because you think you’re too good to hang out with them but of course she doesn’t think that! She wants to see the best in you! Until the rest of the class hates you, thinks you're the worst person on the planet for daring to breathe the same air as them.” 

He goes silent then, fork still frozen in the air as his knuckles grow bone-white on the gleaming metal. After a long moment, he adds “What do I care? This nobody school doesn’t matter to me, and neither does anyone in it...” He hesitates, glancing at the seat next to him, then returns with renewed vitriol. “What value does this have to me?”

Marinette scoffs. “You of all people should know better than that. We’re insanely well connected, didn’t you know? Rose is friends with Prince Ali. Juleka is in Kitty Section, which has been aired on TV. Adrien is… Adrien, and you already know Chloe. Alya runs the most popular superhero blog in Paris. And as much as I hate to brag, I’ve won competitions for Gabriel Agreste, I’ve worked with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale, I’m the costumer for Kitty Section, I’ve been on TV, and you’d better well take me seriously! You think these people won’t figure out who you care about and leave it in ruins for you to cry in the ashes of?! Just because they haven’t yet doesn’t mean they never will.” She hesitates. “You don’t know them like I do. They’re insanely loyal.” 

“Not to you,” he scoffs.

“That’s the problem.” 

Silence hangs thick in the air. At long last, gives a small, conciliatory nod. “I… see. Perhaps this could be a… profitable arrangement.”

Marinette gazes sardonically at him, as he begins to flounder with his hands, reaching out for a hug and then a handshake, shimmying awkwardly in place. She waits a moment, amused, then sticks her hand out for him to shake. 

He takes it. 

“This is what you were going for, right? It’s your signature move.” Her voice shifts suddenly into something playful and light, and Felix is knocked off balance. This is… different. 

He sputters. “It seemed… appropriate for our agreement, okay!” 

“It’s called a ‘friendship’, you know.” Marinette sticks out her tongue and winks. 

Felix blushes. “I wasn’t… I didn’t… it’s an unfamiliar phrasing… for me.” 

“I’ll help you get used to it,” she promises, “That’s what friends are for!”

He chuckles a bit, an uneasy, unpracticed sound. Marinette smiles, genuinely this time, and they settle in to eat in comfortable silence.

It becomes a familiar habit, an easy routine: Marinette joins Felix for lunch, jokes around and teases him until he’s bright pink and laughing, then slips away once Chloe makes an appearance. She waits for him after class on the days Chloe rushes off early, and finds herself walking home with him, the space between them shrinking each day.

Felix finds himself having parallel conversations, one snide and one almost curious, both vulnerable and resigned to losing the only friend they have left, offering their own selves up for sacrifice as if it would hurt less if they gave it freely instead of having it torn from them. 

“Why do you even hang out with her?” Chloe and Marinette both ask him. 

“You two are a lot alike, you know. You’d never see it in her, but you’re also not looking. You should.”

That’s all he’ll say about it, and they learn not to push. 

One day, Chloe shows up early, and Marinette is left scrambling to pull the leftovers of her lunch together, clumsier in her rush than she ever is. She sits down on the bench, shoving Marinette over and announcing that she’ll be “slumming it with the commoners, actually,” and won’t be eating at her hotel anymore. Her eyes look every direction but Marinette’s.

“Alright,” Felix responds placidly. He picks up his lunch and walks around the bench, settling back in next to Marinette. “Please don’t push my friends around, Chloe.” 

“Well, I--” Chloe is taken aback, hurt. “The rule has always been that she’ll leave when I show up! I’m here now, so she can shove right out of here, thanks.” 

Marinette sputters. “We had an agreement! You get half of lunch and all of class and it’s not like that’s less time than I get, and I was about to leave anyways but now I don’t think I will. Thanks.”

“He’s my friend! You and I both know he’s only tolerating you because of who you know,” and at that Chloe glances over to the rest of the class sprawled out on the grass, giggling over Lila’s latest fantasy adventure. 

Something like hellfire burns in Marinette’s chest and she swallows it down. 

“Fine. I’ll leave.” 

Felix moves faster than anyone, standing up and gathering her lunch in his arms, tucking it gently into her bag. He swings her backpack onto his arm, which looks wildly out of place with its cheerful pink against his dour grey vest, and then gently pulls her hand into his. 

“I’ll leave with you, Marinette.” 

Chloe gapes, eyes bulging, an ugly startled expression that Felix knows she isn’t faking. 

“You’re going to choose her over me?” For once her voice is quiet. 

“...I can’t let you pull me wherever you want, Chloe. Marinette is my fr-- my friend. Just like you are.” 

“Why not?!”

Marinette lets Felix pull her up, his arm wrapping around her waist, and then pauses uncomfortably, standing where she is. 

“...look. Do you want to just come with us? Felix keeps saying we’re alike. Maybe it’s time to find out why.” 

Chloe’s face contorted into an unpleasant grimace, as if she’d just swallowed the bitterest pill in the world and, grudgingly, came out the healthier for it.

“I… what are you doing, Marinette? We don’t like each other. That’s what we do.”

“...yeah, well.” Marinette glances over at the class again. “I could use another friend. Couldn’t you?” 

Felix grins. “Or a business partner!” 

“...I could manage business partners, probably.” Chloe smirks and Marinette smiles back when Chloe reaches out to shake her hand. 

“You two are so alike! It’s so cute that you’re getting along.” Lila’s saccharine voice cuts through their tentative conversation and sends them startling. Alya’s just a few steps behind her, scurrying to follow with Lila’s bag clutched in her arms. It would be worrying how much she looks like Sabrina, if Marinette still had it in her to care. Months of passive aggressiveness and constantly being in the wrong had taken its toll on her, and she was done. Isn’t that why she had sought out Felix to begin with? 

Felix is already helping her up again, pulling her up from the bench as Chloe storms up to Lila only to brush past her, shoving her shoulder into Lila’s chest. Alya catches sight of Felix’s arm around Marinette’s waist, and calls out. 

“You’re really going to make a deal with the devil, Marinette? Is that how low you’ve sunk?” Alya’s voice is uncharacteristically malicious. “You won’t be friends with Lila, you antagonize her, bully her, and now you’re befriending her bully? This is the person you want to be? Ugh. I can’t believe I ever thought you were worth being my friend.” 

Chloe pauses, halfway between the table and the door to the classroom, and spins around on her heel, snapping into place with a confident click. The old smirk is back now, given a new purpose.

“Actually, Alya Cesaire, you aren’t worth her friendship.”

Alya is frozen in something in the middle of furious and offended and gaping, humiliation shock, and Marinette is frozen right there with her. Hesitantly, gazing at Chloe in shock, she sidles a little closer to her. Chloe is still going.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate this goody two shoes queen of perfection, but you? Have you forgotten when she’s done for you? After all the terrible advice you’ve given her over the last year, I’d think you’d be on your knees begging her to stay. After all, isn’t she the one who helped you get an interview with Ladybug for your blog? No one had even heard of it until then. And she was the one that helped you go on dates with Nino while she babysat. She’s the one that brings you cookies every morning and coffee when you’re tired and lets you crash at her place. You think she should be waiting for you? Darling, you’ve gone and lost what little mind you had left. You have no idea what you’re pushing away.”

Marinette can’t figure out what has possessed Chloe, to say all these words in Marinette’s defense that have been burning a hole in Marinette’s chest for so long but have never quite found their way out. She doesn’t even know how Chloe knows all this. She gapes at Chloe in newfound admiration and awe, suddenly aware of how the same venom that Chloe had always drowned Marinette in can be used to pull her back up. 

Felix is getting impatient at the door, and Marinette slips her hand around Chloe’s wrist to pull her away. Chloe doesn’t stop, just redirects her attention to Marinette, flipping her ponytail back behind her like she’s dismissing Alya and Lila. 

“What. An. Idiot. You know?” 

Marinette gapes for a moment and then bursts into giggles. “You’re right!”

“Like, I don’t like you but at least I can recognize the value you have as a friend.”

Chloe determinedly doesn’t look at Marinette as she says it, and Marinette doesn’t respond for a long moment. When she does, she squeezes her hand still wrapped around Chloe’s wrist and goes quiet, soft, fond. 

“I like you too, Chloe. I’m glad we’re going to be friends now.” 

Felix grabs Marinette’s other hand as they get to the doors. 

“Business partners, huh?” 

Both girls stick their tongues out at him. 

Alya watches them leave, her hands crumpling into angry fists. She manages two furious, determined steps after them before Lila summons her back.

“Wait.”

She’s sitting at the table now, lounging across the seat like a traitor on a newly conquered throne. Alya turns back to her. Her mouth, gaping a moment ago, has hardened into a razor-tight line. 

“Let them go. They’re not worth you, Alya. They’re being bad friends. What was that you told me about Felix? You don’t have to associate yourself with bullies, right? C’mon. Let's have lunch!” She swings her legs back over and starts making her way over to the shaded grass under the trees, settling with her feet tucked under her. Lila stretches out a hand, nails manicured and neat, and waits until Alya takes it. 

Lila pulls Alya down, and grins with all her teeth bared.

[xiverni]

Redemption and “Consequences”

A lot of talk has been had recently as of chapter 284 of both Endeavor and Bakugo’s “redemptions”, and how they seem to be leading up to some grand consequences for their actions, a final karmic retribution of sorts. People often talk about how these two characters have never had to “pay” for their actions, and that they have never had to face any real consequences. 

Of course, this notion is flawed from the surface all the way to the foundation. Not only have these two characters suffered quite a lot throughout their stay in the story, but the very notion that characters have to “face retribution” in order to become redeemed is an odd, troubling, and frankly reactionary idea that should be discarded as childish nonsense. 

To begin with the idea that Bakugo and Endeavor have not suffered due to the consequences of their actions, even a cursory glance at the story can immediately dispel these arguments. Bakugo, due to his abrasive nature and inferiority complex, spent much of the series losing over and over again. From the initial school training arc to the school festival, Bakugo’s flaws have resulted in him failing at his goals, whether they are beating Deku or fighting Todoroki at his full strength. His anger issues and “villainous” outward appearance even led to a terrorist organization kidnapping him, leading to a situation in which Bakugo spent a good length of time wracked in guilt and trauma over his actions, which he believed contributed to All Might’s fall. This all culminates in his failure in the Provisional License Exams, in which Bakugo’s failings again prevent him from reaching his ambitions. 

It is after his second confrontation with Deku that Bakugo’s development starts picking up real speed, with the next arc that centers around him showing that Bakugo is learning that looking down on those weaker than you will only lead to worse outcomes for yourself. Additionally, it is from here that we begin seeing Bakugo both act more cooperatively with his teammates and (occasionally) prioritize saving people over winning. This is shown when he acts as a cooperative unit with his teammates in the Joint Training Arc, and he is seen saving civilians in the Meta Liberation Arc and the Endeavor Internship Arc. 

When it comes to Endeavor, he is a character that is definitely a lot more contentious than Bakugo, for a number of reasons. For one, Bakugo is an “attractive” character to many of those who read this story, thus he is able to get a lot of leeway as compared to other characters. Additionally, he is a literal child, thus he is treated with a lighter moral weight by the “fandom”. The idea that being under the age of 18 somehow makes you less morally responsible for your actions than anyone arbitrary older than that age has always rubbed me the wrong way. Yes, younger people have a less complete and mature perception of the world, thus it is generally fairer to treat them lighter. However, there are countless adults who suffer from the same immaturity problems and developmental issues as young people do. That said, this is a bit of a tangent already.

From the moment All Might retires, Endeavor has already begun suffering for his actions. He has finally reached the position of number one hero... In the worst way possible : by default. The public is at best ambivalent about his position, and his tenure as the head hero has overseen a sharp rise in crime and disorder in society. What’s worse, as soon as Endeavor finally realizes the horrible things he’s done to his family, it becomes apparent that it’s far too little too late, as Natsuo literally can’t bear being in the same room as Endeavor and Shoto is consistently coldly professional to him. Fuyumi and Rei, the two that are more receptive to Endeavor, are a) doing it out a sense of longing for a “true family” and not particularly out of a sentimental attachment for Endeavor as a person or father, and b) in the case of Rei, not even wanting to see Endeavor. Can you imagine the impact of finally growing and learning from your horrific past mistakes, only to find out that these mistakes will never be able to be moved on from? Can you imagine resolving your pride and selfish desires, choosing to leave behind the family you want to rebuild, all so that they can live comfortably and in peace? Endeavor has almost constantly been suffering since the day All Might retired, and even though it absolutely cannot be said that he doesn’t deserve his suffering, it is in fact still suffering that is being dealt to him.

There is also another argument that centers around legal repercussions for actions committed by these characters, which is something that I both concede has not occurred and simultaneously state is literally of no narrative significance. If these were in fact real people in the real world, there would be a compelling argument that Endeavor deserves to serve time in prison for his abusive behavior. However, appropriate legal punishments are not equivalent to self improvement by the method of narrative punishments. How the fuck would a jail sentence improve Endeavor’s moral character any more than it already has improved? For those who are actually making the claim that these characters should have in universe been given legal repercussions for their actions (as well as those who, hilariously, use Endeavor’s lack of legal consequences as proof that the heroes are bad), Endeavor’s actions are literally unknown to the general public. Additionally, bullying among students is pretty standard in Japan, while it is certainly not a good thing. Furthermore, I really don’t see the point in arguing about “physical violence” in terms of characters in a superhero story throwing around explosions like nothing (I am talking about Bakugo’s more abrasive nature, not Endeavor’s actual physical violence against his children, the latter of which is meant narratively to hold actual weight). People in this universe are obviously a lot more durable than people in our universe. Accept that this is a fictional story with unrealistic aspects, and that in order to critically examine it, you need to accept its basic premises at face value without assuming things using the outside world. 

Now to move to my actual argument, I see so many people obsessed with the idea of “bad” characters having to go through some sort of “trial” or “punishment” in order to become redeemed - as if that’s the way people work. While this may come as a surprise to some, bad people are in fact capable of becoming better human beings without experiencing any sort of karmic retribution. In fact, I would say that the resolve to become better, even without some outside force pushing upon you, is a far harder and meaningful journey than one in which you’re simply pummeled and punished into waving a white flag. It reminds me of the trope “defeat means friendship”, in which the protagonists defeat (typically physically) an enemy, thus converting that enemy into an ally or friend of sorts. 

Think about it like this: would you be more willing to forgive someone who committed a terrible crime, served no time in prison for it, but nonetheless learned from their mistakes and genuinely became a better person.... or someone who committed a terrible crime, served decades in prison, and then came out none the wiser to their own actions?

What makes this situation even funnier is that many of the people demanding karmic retribution for these characters’ actions would, in real life, be advocating for justice reforms that lean towards “rehabilitation” rather than “retribution”. In fact, it has pretty much been proven that rehabilitation is almost universally more effective at actually changing the mindsets of people as opposed to retribution. 

In conclusion, the characters people say haven’t been given consequences have been given consequences, and the prison system should be reformed. Tune in next time for more wacky and unexpected topics like societal collapse and the technological decline of human civilization in BNHA. 

[unloved-cadillac]

Crown Jewels. Part One.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 4.6𝗄

C/n: italics mean that it is said in Hindi. Part two tomorrow. Enjoy.

Back in 1807 India, there lived a family called the Ackerman. They were born with inhuman strength and strong intuition that many envied. The Ackermans were ones of pure luck in life. Gold, money, silk, food that tasted like they were made in heaven. They were the high class royals of India. 

The whole of India adored them. They were blessed in appearance, their skin smooth and eyes of blue jewels. Some say that the Ackerman bloodline held good luck in them meaning that if you were to marry an Ackerman, your life will be filled with riches for generations. 

Since there was such a high demand in trying to wed an Ackerman, the first son of the fourth Raja was the one many were after. Levi Ackerman. He was the epitome of a prince and every girl's dream man. They would throw themselves at him, fathers of daughters would beg him to marry them but he always said no. 

He knew all that they wanted was to live in the palace and have his family’s money and name, earning a place on the highest setting of hierarchy in society. Levi was young. A mere age of 24. He had no intention of marriage or family. His brother would carry the name for all he cared. Farlan looked a bit different from Levi. Instead of onyx hair, he had a beautiful shade of caramel. He looked like his father whereas Levi looked like their mother. Needless to say, they both were wanted throughout the kingdom. 

But Farlan was taken. His heart belonged to a girl who lived across the kingdom in a run down house by a farm. Isabel and Farlan met four years ago, when he and Levi took a ride to explore the further east of the kingdom ordered by their father. He wanted the both of them to know their home like the back of their hand if they were planning to rule it one day. 

Isabel’s brother helped Farlan in tending to the horses and he saw how she worked. Hard and happy. He liked her fiery spirit and her broad smile that he hoped one day would be aimed at him. And it did. When Levi and Farlan were about to leave, Farlan kissed her and gave her his necklace and told her to keep it or sell it. But she kept it. Their mother told the two boys that there was no rush in getting married. “I want you two to find yourselves first. Explore, be free. Because once you settle down, your family comes first.” She told them and Farlan looked at Levi who gave him a knowing look. 

Now, Farlan hoped to go and see her again since Levi was also going to see the ocean. 

However, their father fell sick. The king had been poisoned by a server and was caught by Levi. “What did you give him?! Speak, servant!” Levi shouts and the servant whimpers. “Nectar of Gold.” He says and Levi raises an eyebrow. He was about to speak but Farlan beat him to it. “I know that poison. Cheap but not any less lethal. Where’d you get it?” He asks and the servant scoffs. “Answer us or my brother will have a fun time torturing you.” Farlan advises and the servant gasps. “I made it. It took me three years but I made it. I wanted to kill your trash of a father for what he did to my family.” The servant says angrily, his blood starting to boil. Farlan looked at Levi and then back the man. “What did he do?” 

“He took our land. I had no source of income and because of it, we lost our house. My wife left me with my daughter and told me to get a job otherwise she will leave me for good. I had no choice.” The man explains and Levi sighs. “You lived in the west, didn’t you?” He asks and the man looks up and nods. “I’m sorry. The factories there were built so people like you could have jobs and learn how to make products. Why did you act so recklessly? If you waited-” “I COULDN'T WAIT! I HAD A FAMILY TO SUPPORT! MAYBE YOUR FATHER SHOULD HAVE WAITED!” The man shouts and breaks down into tears. 

Levi shakes his head and wakes up. “Now look at what you’ve done. You ruined your life by attempting to murder the king. It’s over.” Levi says and tells the guard to lock the servant up. 

“Levi. We should go see Papa.” Farlan says and Levi nods in agreement. They enter the main chambers to see their mother holding their father’s hand and the doctor checking his temperature. “He’s burning up.” The doctor says and puts a wet towel on the king's forehead. “Boys. What did you find out?” Kuchel asks and they explain the whole situation. 

“Nectar of Gold? Levi. Farlan. Can I see you for a second?” The doctor says and escorts them outside the bedroom. “What is it?” Farlan asks and the doctor clears his throat. “Nectar of Gold is a cheap yet lethal poison. Farlan you know this. There is a cure. And it’s the form of leaves. It’s dried and crushed into a powder. There’s only one place here that I know of that sells it,” he says and begins to write on a page, “Go here. And tell them that I sent you. I know the owner. Pay him and come back. Quickly now. Go.” The doctor orders them and the brothers nod and go to the stables to their horses. 

“Farlan! Levi!” A voice calls to them and they are met by their bodyguard. “Erwin. Heard of the news?” Farlan asks and Erwin nods. “I’m sorry. Your mother said that I should accompany you to the town. So whenever you’re ready, rajkumars.” He says and they mount their horses and ride out of their home and into the roads of Para. 

Farlan led while Erwin and Levi were behind him. “So Levi. How’s the search for a wife going?” Erwin asks and Levi scoffs while Farlan snickers. “I can’t say because there was no search in the first place.” Levi groans and Erwin chuckles. “Fair enough. And what about you, Farlan? How’s Isabel?” He asks and Farlan stops dead in his tracks with Levi. He turns and faces Erwin. “How did you-” “I know everything, Farlan. But don’t worry. Only I do.” Erwin assured him and Farlan heaved a breath of relief. “You better not tell anyone. Otherwise I’m gonna have to kill you.” Farlan smugly says and Erwin smiles. 

After half an hour, the three of them entered the town where everyone gawked at them. Girls screamed for the Ackerman brothers and many tried to catch their attention. Levi rolled his eyes but Farlan smiled and waved to them. Some fainted. Erwin also caught some attention and girls touched his horse and he smiled at them. But many were after Levi. 

“Levi! Levi!” “Marry me!” “I’ll give up my virginity to you!” 

Were some of the things that were said. Levi groans and Farlan laughs. “Oh come on, Levi. It’s more funny than anything else.” “But it’s annoying.” Levi says and Farlan pats his back. He looks ahead and stops. The place they arrived at was like a market. But there were houses above the market. It wasn't dirty but it wasn’t clean either. Levi’s nose wrinkled in disgusts. “We have to go on foot from here.” Farlan says and jumps off his horse. Erwin and Levi jump off too and Erwin takes the horses and keeps them in a nearby stable before coming back to the princes. 

The three of them walked in between the two aisles as Farlan talked to the people around. Levi looked at the different trinkets that the tents held and the owners bowed and offered him to take things for free, which he humbly declined. “Farlan. Where’s this place anyway?” Levi asks and Farlan shows him the piece of paper with the destination name and a few directions on it. “Herbs and Tea. I think you’ll like this place.” Farlan jokes as Levi’s eyes widen slightly. 

The day was hot as shit. So hot, Levi took off his scarf and kurta top. He wrapped the top around his waist and held his sword in his hand and the girls went crazy. 

“Oh my god. What’s that noise?” Y/n asks as she looks out the bedroom window. “Words in town that the princes are here. Wanna go see?” Her sister, Nanaba tells her while fixing her top. “Nah. You know I hate those royals. Anyway I got to go and help Papa with the shop. You can go if you like. Take Laila with you.” Y/n tells her as she goes downstairs. “Papa! Where are you?” She calls out as she puts on her apron around her punjabi. “Here!” He shouts and she walks around the counter to see her father on the floor. “What are you doing?” Y/n asks, laughing slightly. “My coin fell under there. And my hand is too big to fit.” He says and she leans down and gets the coin.  “This one?” She asks as she holds the coin in between her pointer and thumb. Her father laughs and kisses her forehead. “What would I do without you?” He asks rhetorically and Y/n wakes up. “I don’t know, honestly. Come on. We have to peel the fruit.” She says as she takes the freshly picked fruits and lays them on their table. 

“My god. Are we there?” Levi asks and Farlan smiles. “Yeah. It’s the tent with the green cover over it.” Farlan says and points. Levi looks around and sees a little girl walk up to him. She had a pink shirt on with brown shorts and her black hair was all messed up. But she looked adorable. “Wevi?” She calls his name and he goes onto his knee, internally screaming at the dirt. “Yes, brat?” He asks and she giggles. She pulls out a flower from behind her back and gives it to him. He looks at it and takes it. It’s a little wilted but it’s the thought that counts. “Thank you.” He says and she smiles. “You’re wewcome.” Levi wakes up and ruffles her hair and goes back to Farlan and Erwin. The village is in awe of the first born prince and Farlan pats his shoulder. 

Farlan and Levi walk up to the little shop while Erwin stands guard outside. Farlan looked around and cleared his throat. “Excuse me? Anyone here?” His kind voice rings through the shop and an old man wakes up from the floor. “Oh hello there. Sorry for the wait. Stupid cupboards need working on. How may I help you today?” He asks while putting on his glasses. Once he did and looked back up to the young gentlemen in front of him, he instantly recognized them. “Oh! Farlan Ackerman. And Levi Ackerman. Your majesty.” He bows and Farlan wakes him up. “Please. Just Farlan and Levi. We are in great need of your help, sir.” Farlan says kindly and the man nods. “Yes. Yes of course. One minute, Farlan.” He turns and looks around. “Y/N! Come here!” He screams for his daughter and Levi looks around as Farlan sorts it out. There were many teas here, all flavors that he hadn’t tried before. And it smelled divine. “Papa! What is it? I just got the leaves to boil and-” she walks in as she was setting her hair but stops immediately as soon as she sees the customers. Her and Levi’s eyes met and everything disappeared. 

Something sparked. Something passed between them and they both felt it. “Y/n?” Y/n blinks and breaks eye contact with Levi and turns to her father. “The princes are in need of help.” He tells her and she nods. Y/n looked at Farlan who had a kind smile on his face. “Hello, Ms Y/n. I’m Farlan Ackerman. This is Levi. We need certain leaves that we know you store.” He tells her and she switches her gaze in between the brothers. But leaving her gaze a few seconds longer on the black haired one. “Y-Yes. Of course. What is it?” She asks and Farlan hands her the paper from earlier. She reads it with her father. Her and his eyes widen and Levi walks to stand next to his brother. “The king is sick from Nectar of Gold? An old poison.” The father says and Y/n nods. She looks up and sees Levi staring at her, making her a bit nervous. “Who’s your doctor?” She asks. “Doctor Akal.” Levi replies and her mouth parts slightly. “Akal?” Her father responds and Farlan nods. “He said that you would know him.” Y/n nods. “My uncle.” 

“Y/n, go get the leaves from outside. It’s the fallen leaves under the mango tree.” Her father tells her and she nods and goes outside. As she goes, she feels a presence following her and she looks behind her to see Levi there. Levi stops and looks at her as she grabs a basket. She ignores him and begins to pick up the fallen leaves. As she does, she sees a pair of hands helping her and her eyes follow up the arms until they landed on his face. Y/n hesitates to pick up more but finally stops. “O-Oh. It’s okay. I can do it. Really.” She tells him and tries to stop him from continuing. But he doesn’t stop. Instead he picked up more and she furrowed her eyebrows. “Really, rajkumar. Let me do it.” She assures and grabs his wrists. She probably forgot that he was an Ackerman, a name that carried pure strength, because he lifted his hands and pulled her on top of him. 

She gasps and her hair falls on him. Levi looks at her, with a stoic face and tucks her hair behind her ear. She quickly wakes up, takes the basket and goes back into the shop with a bright red blush on her face, leaving a cunning Levi behind smiling. 

Y/n walks to the front of the shop and prepares the leaves for departure. Farlan talks with her father as she does and Levi follows shortly after. Farlan sees his brother dusts his shirt and sees Y/n look at Levi, a bit annoyed and flustered. “Levi!” Farlan calls to him and both Y/n and Levi look up. Levi spares a quick glance at Y/n then goes to Farlan. Y/n mumbles under her breath as she crushes the leaves in a pestle and mortar. Although Levi was talking to her father and Farlan, his gaze was fixed on the young woman. How her arms flexed, the sound of her bangles jingling, her face. Everything. He never felt like this before. This feeling was so foreign to him, but he welcomed it anyway. 

Y/n felt his eyes on her. She hated it. First he pulls her into him like how a husband does to his wife when he plays with her. Y/n didn’t like royals. It’s just the whole situation of them having a power over others makes her a bit angry. Since she was the eldest daughter in her house her whole family wanted her to marry a man who had lots of money so she would have a better life than her parents to which she said, bullshit. She wanted to help her father run the business he built from scratch and hoped to stay with him and her sisters forever. 

When the packaging is done, Y/n puts it in a bag and goes to Farlan. “It should work in about two hours. Just boil it and have him sip on it. He will be okay.” She assures Farlan and Levi. Farlan takes out his pouch of gold to pay, but Y/n’s dad stops him. “No. Please. I can’t accept your money. Just take care of your father. When he heals up, that’s enough pay for me.” He tells him and Farlan smiles. He takes out four pieces of gold and places them in the man’s hand. “Please accept it. It would mean a lot to my family.” Farlan charms the man and pushes the closed fist to the man’s chest. Y/n looks down and then back up to Levi, who was already looking at her. “Thank you, Y/n.” Levi says and holds out his hand to shake. The way he said her name, it poured out like honey. Y/n looks at him and then his hand. She sighs and takes his hand and shakes it. “You’re welcome.” She says and gives him a small smile. When he lets go, Farlan bids his farewell and walks outside but Levi takes a can of tea and places the cost of it in her hand. Y/n was about to say something but he left. “Y/n. Did something happen between you two?” Her father asks and she rolls her eyes. “No.” 

When Erwin left to get the horses, Farlan looked at his brother who had a ghost of a smile on his face. “Did something happen between you and that girl?” Farlan asks. “Tch.” Was all that Levi said and mounted his horse and galloped back to the palace. “What’s with him?” Erwin asked and Farlan chuckles as he puts the antidote leaves in a satchel. “He met a girl.” 

~~~~

After going back to the palace, Doctor Akal makes the tea and gives it to the king. Kuchel spoke with her boys but Levi’s mind was far gone. He couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. She was so beautiful and she so effortlessly caught his attention. “Levi? Earth to Levi.” He snaps out of his daydream and looks to his mother. “Yes?” “You okay? You seem dazed. Do you have a fever?” Kuchel asks as she places her hand all around his face, feeling his temperature. He pushes her hands away gently. “I’m fine, Ma.” He says and she smiles. “Okay. If you say so. You both must be tired and hungry. They just prepared some food so make sure you eat before you sleep. I’ll fill you in on Papa later.” She tells them and they both take her leave. 

Farlan sat next to Levi as he told him about the letter Isabel sent him. “She found a duck and named it Gulab. Honestly all she thinks about is food.” Farlan jokes and Levi hums in acknowledgement. He takes a sip of the tea he bought from Y/n and he almost faints. How was it that good? 

“You good, bro?” Farlan asks and Levi nods. “Try the tea.” Levi tells him and Farlan takes his cup and smells it. He takes a sip and Farlan hums. “Whoa. This is really good. Where’d you get it?” He asks and Levi looks at him. “Y/n.” Levi simply says and Farlan laughs. “You like her!” Farlan chuckles and Levi tchs. He wakes up and goes to his room and Farlan looks at their dog who was salivating at the food in front of Farlan. “He didn’t deny it, Titan. Here.” Farlan gives Titan a piece of chicken. 

When night fell, Levi laid on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. His mind was clouded with the images of Y/n. How could this girl, who doesn’t even know, have his heart racing the way that it did? “Alright. That settles it.” Levi says to himself and turns off his light. Not that he would sleep, he was too excited for tomorrow. 

~~~~

After breakfast, Levi and Farlan waited to hear the news on their father. The last thing that they had heard was that he was fast asleep but his temperature returned to normal. Levi and Farlan chatted when the king entered the room. “Boys.” He says and Levi wakes up with Farlan. “Papa.” Farlan says and walks to him and gives him a strong, bear hug. “Oh! Farlan.” The king chuckles and Farlan pulls away. “We were so worried about you. Are you okay?” He asks and the ki ruffles Farlan’s hair. “Yes. Thanks to the both of you.” He says and looks at Levi who nodded. “Glad to see you’re up, old man.” Levi retorts and the king snickers. “Thank you, Levi. You both saved my life and I’m proud to call you my boys. And to return the favor, the both of you can ask me for whatever you want. Anything at all.” The kings tells them and Farlan and Levi give each other a look. Levi gave Farlan a curt nod and Farlan smiled. He turned and looked at his father. 

“I want to get married.” 

Farlan says and the king with Kuchel gasps softly. “Really?” The king asks and Farlan nods. “Okay. We need to send a notice to the kingdom and-“ “No, Papa. I have a girl already.” Farlan interrupts and the king tilts his head. “You have a girl?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Kuchel pinches his ear making Farlan chuckle. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ma. But yes. She’s amazing and funny and kind. A little wild but tolerable. A pain but I wouldn’t prefer her any other way.” Farlan tells his parents about the girl who got his heart while Levi looked out the window. He had to see Y/n soon. 

“So when can we meet this ‘Isabel’?” Kuchel asks with a smile. “Hopefully at the end of the week. I have to propose to her first. So I’m going to stay with her for this week. If that’s okay?” He looks to his father and he nods. “Come home with our daughter-in-law. Luckily, friday is Holi so she can come home and stay with us.” He says and puts a hand on Farlan’s shoulder. Levi smiled softly and walked to his brother. “Let’s go.” “You’re going too, Levi?” Kuchel asks and he shakes his head. “I’ll just drop him off. I got some other stuff I need to attend to.” He says a ghost of a smile fills his face. 

“Where exactly are you going , Levi?” Farlan teasingly asks as he puts his belongings in the bags of his horse. “Don't make me say it, Farlan.” Levi responds and Farlan chuckles. “Alright. Don't scare her off.” He says, earning a glare from Levi. The duo rode out of their palace and Levi separated with Farlan at the road that led east. “See ya, Levi!” Farlan screams and Levi waves. “Bye.” Levi responds and turns back to ride to the girl who made some good ass tea. 

~~~~

“Didi! Here’s the pots you asked for!” Nanaba says as she places them on the counter by Y/n. “Thanks, Nana.” Y/n says as she takes the pots and places them in the cupboards. “Did you meet any princes yesterday?” Nanaba asks as she leans against the counter, folding her arms. Y/n stops for a second and looks at her sister. “No.” Y/n simply says and Nanaba chuckles. “You suck at lying, Didi. Papa told me. You and that eldest Ackerman shared quite a look with each other or so I’ve been told.” Nanaba teases and Y/n groans. “Look, Nana. I’m not interested in him. Or anyone matter of fact. There’s so much things that I need to do and Papa needs help in running the shop. I can’t just leave here and run off to get married.” Y/n explains and sighs, placing her hands on the counter. Nanaba leans closer to her and slaps her arm. “I didn’t say anything about you being interested in him or marriage.” Nanaba winks at Y/n and she scoffs. Did she really fall for someone who she didn't even know? And a royal, nonetheless. Y/n took a pot and walked to the front of the shop. She had to prepare all of the celebratory powders and colours for Holi. as she lifts her head from the pot, she gasps. 

“You?” 

She says and Levi turns from where he was looking at the tea. “Me.” he responds and she sighs annoyingly. “What are you doing here?” she asks and Levi walks slowly towards her, while looking at various things. “You.” he says and looks at her. Y/n scoffs and continues to mix the colours. “What do you mean “me”?” she asks and he stands in front of her. “Exactly what it means. You.” Levi responds and he looks at the various coloured powders. Pink, blue, purple, yellow, green and red. “Preparing for Holi?” he asks and she lifts her head with a face that said ‘obviously’. He licked his lips and sat on a nearby chair while he watched her. 

Silence fell upon the both of them. The only sounds that could be heard was the chatter of people from outside and the clanking of pots as Y/n moved it. She looked at Levi who looked around the shop and Y/n rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, rajkumar. I-” “Levi.” he cuts her off and she looks at him. “Call me Levi.” he says and she exhales a breath. “Levi. Why are you here? Is your dad still sick?” she asks him and he shakes his head. “No. as a matter of fact, he’s perfectly okay. Better actually. And it's all thanks to you.” Levi responds as he wakes up and stands in front of her. Y/n stepped back a little when he did, and he frowned at the action.

 “Uh, I, it’s because of the leaves. I didn't do anything.” she says and he leans back up. “You did. You took the leaves, crushed it for us which we could’ve done by ourselves and told us what to do. You could have easily denied serving us but you didn't. And I'm grateful for that.” Levi replies and Y/n blinks, a bit dazed out by his voice. It was so smooth and deep and, now that he was so close to her, his skin was smooth like butter and it glowed. His face was so sculptured that you could tell that the gods above took special attention to him. Y/n stuttered over her words as he closed the distance between them. “I like the way you prepare the tea leaves, Y/n.” he whispers as his gaze jumps back and forth from her eyes to her lips. “Yeah?” she asks and he nods. As they both were about to lean towards each other, another party entered the room. 

“Didi. Where’s the-oh.” Nanaba interferes and Y/n pushes Levi’s chest to put some distance between them. “What is it, Nana?” Y/n asks while Levi looks at Y/n, smirking a bit. “I just needed the cloth.” Nanaba saya and holds the cloth, waving it a little. She looks to Levi and bows. “Rajkumar.” she greets and Levi nods. “Hi.” he simply says back and Nanaba smiles at her sister. “I’ll just-yeah-uh, go? Yeah I’m going.” she stutters and winks at Y/n, who rolls her eyes. Levi chuckled and faced Y/n again. Her eyes meet him and she tilts her head. “What?” she asks and he shakes head. “Come with me.” he says, nonchalantly. “Huh? Where?” she asks and he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Serendipity.”

———————————————————————

“I was highly inspired by a shit ton of Hindi movies.”

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔:

>Raja: king.

>Rajkumar: prince.

>Gulab: an Indian sweetmeat. Super tasty.

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[vergilthelibrarian]

Dream of Me, pt.2.

To the anon who asked me to write a second part to this, here ya go! I’m might turn this into a series cause I’m actually genuinely interested in what I’m writing.

TW: mentions of self harm

Part.1

Yandere!PsychDoctor!SichengxGenderNetural!Reader

Walking into the day room, you looked around, eyes landing on Jisung who soon saw you.

His eyes lit up and he smiled and you smiled too, walking and taking a seat next to him.

“Hey.”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked him and he shrugged.

“A little. Not gonna lie, I was kinda scared.” he answered.

“I get it. I was too when I first went to a psych ward. I cried myself to sleep actually.

“Really?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

You two started talking, mostly getting to know each other.

“I’m in my first year of university. I’m majoring in dance.” he said proudly.

“That’s awesome! I got a degree in music and I was going for my masters before I moved back here.” you said.

“Why is that?” Jisung asked and you glanced away.

“I was kinda forced to move back here. Past demons catching up with me and all.” you told him.

“Is it because of your doctor? I saw him go into your room last night…” he whispered to you and your eyes widen for a bit before going back to normal.

“I… Jisung-”

“I’m sorry if I struck a nerve or-”

“It’s okay Jisung.” you said.

You sighed.

“My doctor is a childhood friend of mine so he knows me. I don’t really like talking about him though.” and he nodded.

“It’s cool. I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable or anything.”

You two looked up as you saw a young man walk into the room who you instantly recognized.

“Hey Taeyong.” you waved and the tired looking man stopped in his tracks and looked at you. He waved at you before walking to a chair and sitting down, crossing his legs and turning his attention to the TV.

Soon you saw your doctor walk in, a gentle smile on his face.

“Y/n. I see you’re out today and you’re making friends.” he stopped in front of you, glancing at Jisung for a bit while Jisung gave a small smile in return.

“Let’s go to your room for a bit and see how you’re doing?”

You nodded, getting up and walking off with the doctor to your room.

Once you got into your room, you sat down on your bed, facing Sicheng as he took a seat in the chair.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“Why do you keep asking me this? It’s not like as if you’re gonna let me leave this place anyway.” you said looking at him annoyed.

Sicheng chuckled.

“You’re right about that.” he said with a smirked.

Ever since finding out that Sicheng was your doctor, you knew that he was gonna somehow use his position and power to make it harder for you to leave despite being the cause for your stay at the psych ward in the first place.

You pulled at your fingers, your eyes soon on your lap.

You hated the air in the room.

It felt stuffy and awkward and you didn’t feel safe. You wanted to be back in the day room talking with Jisung.

“So… I see you’re talking with a new patient.” Sicheng said.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous. You’re the one who told me yesterday to go out into the day room and talk to others.” and he nodded slowly.

“I did. But I still can’t help but just get a little jealous when I see you’re talking to other people besides me.” he admitted.

He leaned back into the chair, his eyes on you.

“You know, I’ve been talking with my team and I brought up you moving into a long term residential psychiatric program and-”

“What?” you looked up at the doctor, eyes wide.

“Aww, Y/n.” he cooed. “You’re sick. You’re a danger to yourself. If I let you go back outside, who knows what will happen to you.” he said.

“B-but… You can’t do that!” your voice raised as you looked at him in shock.

“I can and I will. You weren’t even taking your medication when you checked in.”

“That’s because you kept throwing them away. You worsened my sickness…”

Sicheng’s jaw clenched and he glanced away.

He looked back at you, his face soften as he said, “I’m only doing this so you realize that I’m the only who can really help you. No one cares for you as much as I do and if you’d just stop resisting me, it wouldn’t have to be like this.” he said before getting up.

“You can go back to the day room now. We’re done for today.” he walked to the door and left the room.

You got up from the bed, rubbing your arm as you walked to the door and left the room.

You went back to the day room only to see Taeyong talking to Jisung.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how Jisung looked a bit uncomfortable while Taeyong talked to him.

They soon noticed you though, their eyes landing on you and Taeyong motioned you to come closer.

You did, taking your seat next to Jisung.

“What did Sicheng say?” Taeyong asked, his eyes now on you.

You sighed.

“He’s thinking about putting me in the long term program.” you told him.

Taeyong frowned and Jisung eyes grew wide.

“What does he even gain from keeping you trapped here?” Taeyong wondered out loud, leaning back into his seat.

You shook your head.

“I don’t know.”

Taeyong himself was a long term resident of the psych hospital. He was schizoaffective and, from what he told you, his mind snapped when he lost his mother. You met Taeyong in your first year of high school, he only being one year higher than you. Everyone knew how much Taeyong loved his mother and when the news came out that she had cancer, he became a bit more sadder than his usual cheerful self but still, he kept his optimism. Everything was fine at one point, his mother had her last chemo treatment and things seemed to be turning up. But then it came back and this time it was worse and the doctors told his family that there was nothing they could do. When his mother passed away last year, his mental health started declining rapidly and with him already being bipolar now being paired with symptoms of schizophrenia, he genuinely felt as though he was losing his mind. Besides all of that, he didn’t tell you much as to what led up to him to being here but he did tell you that it was his relatives who brought him here and suggested to the nurses for him to stay here long term and with how unstable he was, his team decided that that was probably the best thing for him.

“This place is hell. I mean, besides the fact there’s nothing to do here, some of the doctors and nurses will just dope you up with so much drugs to the point were you become numb.” Taeyong said, which was true.

Some of the doctors and nurses just weren’t good people.

They didn’t see the patients as people who were genuinely sick and needed help.

Some of them saw you as lab rats to test new drugs on or as incurable.

One of the patients named Jennie, who only left her room for meal time, had severe BPD and was given so much medication by her doctor that she never really seemed all too there.

She would just sit and stare at the wall.

Never moving, her eyes blinking slowly.

It was sad.

Jisung frowned slightly.

“Isn’t that against the law though?” he asked and Taeyong rolled his eyes.

“The government doesn’t care about insane people. We’re seen as dangers to society just for existing and some of these “doctors” and “nurses” tend to keep those same ideas when they come into this line of work.” he crossed his arms. “And they don’t help us because we need it. They “help” us because we’re considered ticking time bombs that will kill someone the moment we have an episode.”

Jisung shook his head.

“But that’s not true.” he said and Taeyong sighed, looking at him with sad eyes.

“You’re right. It’s not true. But the rest of society still think it is and we, the ones with the illnesses, still suffer because of it.”

~~

Sicheng typed away on his computer when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.” he said, his eyes soon leaving the screen when he heard it open.

A man in a black three piece suit came in and closed the door.

He took a seat in one of the chairs that face the front of Sicheng’s desk and Sicheng smiled warmly at the man.

“How are you doing Yoonoh?” he asked and Yoonoh made a face as though he was in thought.

“Fine I guess.” he answered.

Sicheng saved his work and closed his laptop, giving his attention back to the man in front of him.

He waited patiently as the man tried to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t know how I’m doing. I don’t know how I’m feeling. Honestly, this life has made me so numb, so desensitized that I don’t even know if I could even have a genuinely healthy relationship with anyone. The fear of them dying a retaliation is just too high.”

Sicheng nodded, his eyes on the man who looked visibly distraught.

“It amazes me how my father was such a sweet man to me and my mother. I genuinely don’t know how he did it. This life makes it so hard to be sweet to others especially since it made me realize how much of a sadist I am.”

Sicheng listened to Yoonoh spill his guts out to him, about his fears, the nightmares he has of those that he killed getting their revenge.

And as Yoonoh talk, he cried.

He always cried during his sessions with Sicheng and Sicheng knew that Yoonoh thought he could only cry here with him because what would his men think of him crying over being raised in a life crime considering he’s the leader of his father’s mafia?

They would think he was a pussy.

After about 30 minutes passed, Yoonoh wiped his eyes, closing his mouth as he was done talking.

But before Sicheng could say anything, something came across Yoonoh’s mind and soon he found himself asking, “How’s Y/n doing? I’ve been thinking about them lately.” he said and Sicheng smiled.

“I’m taking care of them at the hospital. I’m actually planning to become their sole caregiver.”

Yoonoh nodded.

He didn’t want to tell Sicheng but he did felt bad for helping Sicheng force you to come back here, especially since it seemed like you had your entire future ahead of you. He also felt bad that Sicheng was using your mental illnesses against you. He only did things like that to his enemies so he didn’t understand why Sicheng was doing it to you… but love did come in different ways so he usually chalked it up to Sicheng just being in love.

Yoonoh didn’t really question why Sicheng did the things he did to you but he still couldn’t help but feel guilty at helping destroy your future and being stuck with a man who may be missing a few screws himself.

“How are you gonna become their sole caregiver?” he asked curiously.

“Their family already gave me the okay to care for them long term and their friends don’t even know that I was the one that was stalking them all those years ago. Also, no one is gonna question why they’re living with me suddenly since everyone knows we were close friends.”

Yoonoh knew he was right.

Everyone who was raised in this town knew how close you and Sicheng were before you went off to university.

What no one knew however was how your leaving made Sicheng lose it and while he was taking more unconventional routes in order to become a psychiatric, he hired Yoonoh to find out where you were since you deleted all of your old sns accounts before you left and didn’t really tell anyone the college you got accepted into. Once he found you though, Sicheng made it his mission to get you back, no matter how mad he had to drive you.

“Why are you asking about Y/n by the way?” Sicheng asked and Yoonoh ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know. Guilty conscious I guess.” he admitted and Sicheng nodded.

“I understand. But know that Y/n is only safe in my care. I will never let harm come to them.” he said and Yoonoh just nodded.

That might be true but if anyone was to ever harm you, Yoonoh thought, it’d be no one other than Sicheng himself.

~~

You eyes looked to your side, landing on Taeyong’s drawing.

You looked back at the blank paper in front of you, not knowing what to draw.

You decided to go to art therapy with Taeyong since you didn’t want to be in your room all day since you were still hallucinating and talking to both Jisung and Taeyong seemed to be helping a bit.

You’ve always heard a voice in your since you were child and only started visually hallucinating around the time you hit puberty.

The voice started off telling you do to random dangerous things, similar to how intrusive thoughts are but as you got older, the voice became more abusive and since your family didn’t believe you when you told them what was happening, you suffered throughout your entire youth because of that voice, the only people taking your words seriously being your friends.

The voice that would talk to you was a male’s voice. You couldn’t put a name to who it was though so you usually called it Him.

But when Sicheng started stalking you, a new voice appeared and the voice was that of Sicheng.

His voice would tell you in the mostly sickly sweet tone how no one loved you.

How no cared about you.

That your friends were fake and your family hated you.

And you heard his voice tell you this because he was already telling you this himself.

Leaving messages on your phone through voice and text, writing letters and leaving it in your mailbox, telling you how much no one loved you… besides him.

And it really did affected you.

You started distancing yourself from your college friends and by the time you graduated, your mental health was just as bad as it was when you were younger, if not, worse.

The only reason why his words affected you was because of how much you believed him.

Out of all of your friends, Sicheng was the only one who truly comforted you.

You were friends with Taeyong too but he was going through so much back then that you understood why he couldn’t really do much to help you.

But Sicheng…

Sicheng was always there for you and maybe it was selfish of you to just leave your hometown without a word and start a new life at a college in another state but you wanted to get away from your family so badly that you were fine with forgetting about your old friends and moving on.

Starting anew.

You sighed as you picked up a red color pencil and started drawing circles.

The circles began overlapping one another until it turned into a red mess.

“Okay guys. Now it’s time for us to go around and tell everyone what we drew and why.” Chittaphon, or Ten as what everyone called him, said as he turned down the music that was playing in the room. “Remember, you don’t have to say anything.” he smiled before picking up his drawing and starting first.

You liked Ten.

He was pretty chill and funny and would also let patients take crayons and paper to their room just to draw.

Once Ten was done explaining his drawing, he passed it down to one of the patients who began talking.

When it got to Taeyong though, he shook his head.

“I don’t feel saying anything today.” he said and then looked at you.

You picked up your drawing, looking at it, sighing.

“I didn’t really draw anything.” you started. “I just drew a bunch of circles overlapping into one another.” you turned the paper around for everyone to see. “I’ve just been hearing the voices and they keep talking over each other. I guess it could mean that? I don’t know, I’ve just been overthinking a lot about things.”

“What are they?” Ten asked and you looked at him.

“Just… just about the things that led me up to being here…” you answered him and Ten nodded.

“The beautiful thing about art is that it never truly has to be good. Art is a way to express emotions and thoughts that you can’t express in the verbal all too well. To make sense of the thoughts and troubles you have. To cope and understand the trauma you suffer from. If you drawing a bunch of circles made you come to that conclusion, then I say that you did draw something.” Ten said, a gentle smile on his lips.

You nodded.

“I guess you’re right.” you said, setting the paper down on the table. “I’m done.” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the older woman next to you who then began explaining what she drew.

When group ended, Taeyong told you to wait for him and went up to Ten and asked him for some more art supplies and Ten went and got him some crayons and paper.

Once he gave it to him, Taeyong thanked Ten and soon the both of you left the room.

“Let me put these in my room real quick.” Taeyong said and you two walked to his room, just talking about whatever.

When he got to his room, he went in, set his supplies on his dresser and walked out, the both of you heading to the day room.

As you entered, you saw Jisung whose eyes were red and puffy.

He did have talk therapy during yours and Taeyong’s art therapy group so you assumed that was the reason why he looked rather sad.

You went up to him, taking a seat next to him and smiling.

“Everything okay?” you asked him and Jisung looked up at you.

Taeyong took the opposite seat next to Jisung and began rubbing his back.

“Every time one of my alters take over, I don’t feel in control of my body. I’m just watching on autopilot while this stranger ruins everything.” he said. “I just hate that I can’t even remember what actually happens. I can’t recall the things I’ve done or said. I just feel so alone...” he sniffled

“Jisung, what you’re going through, there are others who go through it as well. You’re never really alone.” you said, trying your best to comfort him. “But I know what you mean. I feel the same way too.” Taeyong nodded. “Same.” he said. “When it comes to being sick mentally, it feels like as if no one understands your struggles. That you’re the only person in the world suffering but there are others who do know your struggles. Just because your friends and or family don’t get it, doesn’t mean you’re truly alone.” you told him, a soft smile on your face.

Jisung nodded slowly.

“I guess you’re right.” he said, shoulders slumped.

As you and Taeyong try to comfort Jisung, you saw someone come into the room out of the corner of your eye. Looking up, you saw a patient you’ve never seen before and thought it was a new patient.

His eyes met yours for a bit before looking away.

He looked rather tall in to you and his hair was black. His eyes look tired and sad and as he sat down, you wondered what exactly brought him here.

“It seems like everyday a new guy shows up yet I’m still stuck here.” Taeyong whispered bitterly causing you and Jisung to laugh, who seemed to be feeling a bit better.

~~

As you sat in your bed, you pulled at your hair.

The voices were loud.

Even though you were taking medication, they wouldn’t stop.

You began wondering if you were even given the actual medication you needed or sugar pills.

Knowing Sicheng, that wouldn’t really surprise you if that was the case.

You’ve been in the hospital for 3 weeks now and it seemed as though mentally, you were getting worse.

You looked to your side as the door squeaked open and Sicheng came in.

He walked to the bed and sat down on it, wiping your hair away from your face.

“How was your day?” he asked you and you looked away, pulling at your hair harder.

“No no no, don’t do that. That’s not a good habit.” he said gently pulling your hand away from your hair.

Sicheng was always so gentle with you… but his words always hurt you.

They cut you, hurting and bleeding far more than any self harm scar you’ve ever inflicted.

There was a part of you that still clung to Sicheng.

He was always there for you when no one else was and it made you so confused whenever you thought about that because Sicheng was the reason for your mind worsening in terms of health.

“My day was okay.” you answered timidly, not looking at the man who watched you with soft eyes.

At first, when he started harassing you, you felt terrified, angry that your old best friend was doing this, but ever since coming back home, you began feeling weird. Confused at the fact that Sicheng was still very much the warm and understand boy you grew up with… as long as you didn’t do anything that upset him that was but to Sicheng, you could never upset him.

Irritate him, yes.

But genuine anger towards you, no.

Sicheng chuckled, his hand soon caressing your cheek.

“That’s nice.” he said.

You hated the fact that this man practically had a say on whether or not you were “healthy” enough to leave because deep down you knew he was still sabotaging everything in order to make you stay here.

But a part of you would protest and say that Sicheng is just looking out for you because Sicheng’s voice, that was in your mind, was telling you that all he ever did was look out for you because that’s what the real Sicheng was telling you.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt soft plump lips, gently touch your cheek.

Sicheng would always kiss you everywhere on your face, except your lips.

His kisses was always hesitant and shy, just like him.

He leaned back, his eyes on you, smiling, a soft look on his face as he said, “Goodnight 亲爱的 (Qīn'ài de/Dear). Things will start getting better once you realize that all you need is me.” he lifted his hand up and began rubbing the top of your head. “Now get some rest.”

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

Taglist:

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[firebunnylover]

LoSH S2 discussion

I love Legion of Superheroes. And i love season 2, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about how it could have been improved. In terms of quality, it varies more than season 1. Some parts are top tier while others… eh.

Season 2 is darker than season 1. And there’s the inherent stigmatism that darker means better. But it’s not true.

A horror schlock film is not inherently better than an animated film.

I don’t blame the staff on all its shortcomings. Kids WB was on its deathbed, so they probably had less time to work and iron out ideas. And executive meddling.

The second season had a lot of good elements, but there are things that weighed it down. I am here to discuss how to improve said things.

Heads up: ended up editing part of this post after rewatching the episodes.

This first bit is more of a personal preference, but instead of the 41st century, maybe move the original source of conflict to a farther region of space, one that the UP doesn’t interact with, and has been growing in terms of turmoil until they finally resort to bringing the Legion over. In other words, it has just been put aside by everyone else to the last minute.

Parallel to Brainy’s relationship to Brainiac. He doesn’t want to deal with it. He never brings it up. But maybe if he did, he wouldn’t have gotten corrupted.

This place still has plenty of old documentation of the original age of superman, so Kell is disillusioned with the ideal glory days. Keep Kell Edgy.

Kell’s home and K3NT still gets destroyed - reflects Krypton’s own destruction.

SPEAKING OF KELL:

Make his story more apparent that it’s one realizing that kindness is not an inherent weakness. And neither is being soft. He was raised for fighting and killing Imperiex, and was taught to think that they were weaknesses. Have him realize his identity can be beyond the Clone of Superman made to kill Imperiex. Or rather, have him react more to realizing that he’s moving beyond his given identity.

To clarify; they do address his development in the show a few times, but I want more continuous development instead of the rapid nods we get. Have him try to interact in a more humane way with others. Especially with other members of the Legion. Where they have to take a double take in seeing him acting not that edgy. Maybe offer more flashback of him fighting Imperiex in comparison, and how he treated allies then.

Also put K3NT’s story under the microscope. I doubt Imperiex just came out of nowhere with his attacks. Plus the fact they went far enough to send a hitman after a fucking child? That screams yikes and maybe we need to double check the story.

And an overall issue to be addressed is what rights do robots have and what conditions need to be met? Because let’s face it, we make robots to do complex work for us. But Colu is a culture where the main people ARE robots. Like in Transformers. What line do we draw between non-sentient robots vs the sentient ones in the 31st century? And what about cyborgs/people who give up their original bodies for robotic ones?

Plus Imperiex himself came to be because of the perfected combination of organic tissue and robotics. This topic of robots and individuality/personhood could have been a fun topic to explore.

Don’t sideline the girls. Leave TG alone. 

Don’t put SG in a coma for nearly the whole season - seriously it’s the reason why the guys make one bad decision after the other. Although with that said, it’s because she’s not around we got the majority of s2 plots. She’s the goddamn mom of the squad. Just make her busier and unable to keep an eye on her idiot boys for the plots based on bad decisions to happen. 

Or have her deal with after-effects of what Esper did to her. Maybe after a whole season of being the emotional support character, have her be the one in need of emotional support or not being able to help directly, especially when the group needs emotional support. Emotional support paradox.

Maybe don’t make Cosmic Boy appear as much as a dick in the episodes where he does show up. He’s trying to hold this goddamn team together, and there’s a goddamn tyrant trying to conquer the galaxy. HE’S FUCKING TIRED AND STRESSED. AND IM SURE THERE ARE A BUNCH OF JERKS WHO WANT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT TO DISSOLVE THE LEGION. Better yet, throw in some more backstory with him and his little brother Pol!

And in regards to Imperiex… The dude has a lot of potential. I like his voice actor, Phil Morris. The guy voiced Dr. Sweets from Atlantis.

But his writing needs help.

In the original DC comics, he’s the embodiment of Entropy. Anyone who’s seen Madoka is probably familiar with what that is. But if you're not, here’s a definition: “ the measure of a system’s thermal energy per unit temperature that is unavailable for doing useful work...” He’s the embodiment of that energy that cannot be used for anything. And Entropy grows over time.

Another definition of what Entropy is “lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.”

In the comics, he’s more of a cosmic being as a result of him being an embodiment of unusable energy. He’s been in existence since, well, the beginning. He had destroyed the universe and recreated it multiple times. Okay, so that lines up with how the show portrays him. And technically, he does get the universe to reset itself in the 41st century when he alters the 31st century enough.

But I personally feel that making him a cosmic being is kinda… meh?

I personally prefer more personal villains most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, an Eldritch being done right makes a great character, but I can’t see Imperiex as one. At least not LoSH’s version.

Plus I like it when the protagonist sees the villain has a point and has changed as a result for the better.

You know, over a year ago, I used to think that it was impossible to make a tyrannical villain who’s presented as real evil seem complex.

And then… I was introduced to TFP Megatron.

Now for you LoSH fans who haven’t watched Transformers Prime, Megatron was once Megatronus. A low caste member who worked in the mines and Gladiator games. He wanted to fix the growing corruption of Cybertron. To make things better.

But his worse personality traits took over, and he lost that good motivation. Now he’s just fighting to win and defeat Optimus Prime. 

But despite the change of goals and ideals, he doesn’t want to simply abandon his relationship with Optimus. He and Optimus, or as he used to be called, Orion, were fighting for the betterment of society. And they meant something to each other. Megatron doesn’t want to just get it over with. He wants fanfare for his victory over Optimus. And he doesn’t want anyone else to rob him off that. But he isn’t opposed to getting Optimus/Orion back on his side. It’s because of this you can still argue that there is a remaining shred of good in him.

They were the best young lovers anD NO I AM NOT CRYING OVER THEM!

Also, the fact we know he was part of a minority group in the form of the lower cast  that was enslaved can make us sympathize with Megatronus of the past, as well as understand how he came to be.

It doesn’t mean we forgive him for his actions - and he has done a lot of shitty things. And I mean a lot.

But his history is more understandable. TFP Megatron’s a fall from grace.

OK I’m done dissecting TFP Meg’s writing.

We know Imperiex was a slave, and was originally organic, who’s from a society where his purpose is literally just to fight, and was gradually stripped of his original body. He was originally stripped of any agency before then though.

But he says this was a good thing. Calling his original body a weakness. And refers to his old self as a pathetic slave.

He gave up whatever softness he had.

Also, this is where K3NT’s story needs to be reexamined. Imperiex was made during what K3NT described as “A Time of Extended Prosperity”. That time had freaking slaves. And K3NT says that when Imperiex did rise up, they were unprepared. So… they were prosperous, but lacked defense to prevent anything like that happening? Or perhaps those who were in charge were that unpopular that it was easy for Imperiex to start the war.

What made him decide conquering the galaxy was the next thing to do after he had every bit of his original self stripped away? Why go as far as destroy it?

What I’m trying to say is that they could borrow a few pages from the Megatron book. Maybe he was once trying to better the society he was part of, but he decides to play the violent card at some point. And somewhere along that strategy, he starts to lose sight of the initial goal. With that, being the victor and in control becomes the main one.

Or perhaps he has grown cynical of the galaxy as it is and decides it just needs to go all together, and then start from scratch.

Like the second definition of Entropy, he gradually declines in predictability and descends into disorder.

Maybe to juxtaposition the fact that Brainiac became the main threat at the end, make him the opposite or foil to him. Rationality or logic do not serve as first-or-second influences to decisions under pressure. Emotions and his own perceived ideas do.

Speaking of Brainiac, maybe offer more of the OG Brainiac. Give us more of that smooth-voiced Corey Burton. 

Or TFA Megatron.

Seductive Bastard.

I’m sorry I have fallen for the shady-business-mafia-boss-but-morally-grey robot.

Also, the members of the legion that only get one episode focus? Give them more screen time. You can’t just introduce superman’s new adopted son Karate Kid and just not bring him for another speaking role again!

Actually, that brings me to another point.

As @spandexinspace​ pointed out, his episode is not the best, and is arguably the worst written of the whole series. Things that are issues do get brushed off to the side.

So a proposal on potential rewrite:

First, have the legion look over its current rules and what exceptions/changes they need to make.

Explore the subject of kids having to participate in these fights.

To clarify, kid shows are meant to be escapism for kids.

Shocking, I know.

So it makes sense that some characters would be the same age as the viewers. 

But while this is good representation, as you get older, you find yourself going “WHY WOULD THE ADULTS LET THEM ENDANGER THEMSELVES?!”

Kids having to fight at that age does have consequences. Batman Beyond certainly addressed it. So did Steven Universe Future.

Steven ended up being responsible for so much, that when he no longer needed to take care of things, he was unsure of who he was. And then there’s the fact he ended up with PTSD because of him having to fight so much. Then you have the fact that Greg and Rose never intended to raise him like their caretakers did... but as good as their intentions were, they still caused damage. Rose for… all the gem stuff. And look, Greg is a great dad, but not enforcing anything for Steven when he’s growing up still has it’s cost.

With Batman, he’s obviously going to do his damn best to keep kids safe, including the Robins. But sometimes, it’s not enough. He wasn’t able to keep Tim safe in the event with the Joker in Batman Beyond. Where he was held captive and tortured.

But the Batkids are never expected to resolve this stuff by themselves. Because Batman knows how much you can get screwed up as a kid. He fucking cares.

And to be fair, in most continuities I’m aware of, the other sidekicks came out pretty okay overall.

Except Jason Todd.

So my proposal?

Have Val originally with Grimbor, as a sort of Protege. But have the legion capture him, only to go “uhhh this is a child with no powers”. And Superman, being the good, wholesome paragon we all love, takes him under his wing.

In all honesty, I want Superman pulling a batdad for Karate Kid in his intro episode the whole time. That was the best part of the episode for me.

Plus after the events of “Cry Wolf”, the Legion should examine the no-killing rule. Because they do need to kill Imperiex to save the universe. But that goes against the code. But they can argue it’s a necessity. But Mar Londo is also a monster. He’s the everyday monster some of us have grown up with.

When do you need to make exceptions to kill someone?

And my final main suggestion:

Add more Mekt.

What the heck were you guys expecting? You all KNOW me by now. I LOVE MY GARBAGE BOY.

Joking aside, here’s what I would do.

Have the Chained Lightning episode pushed back, but have Mekt with Imperiex earlier. Most of us would yell “Why the heck would you join the guy whose main goal is to destroy the galaxy?!” But this is one of the easiest things to address.

Explore more of his past. Use the comic sources with him being outcast for being a solo on Winath. With that in mind, him deciding to side with Imperiex can make sense.

Why try protecting something that has done nothing but hurt you?

There’s actually a pretty good reason why he would side with Imperiex, as seen in Champions and Lightning Storm. Remember, Mekt was willing to cheat to get ahead of the sports competition he was introduced in. And also was thrilled when fighting Garth and was beating him on his own. He likes being in power.

Imperiex offers him that.

As for why Imperiex would bother with Mekt? That’s a little harder to answer. He knows that Mekt has a soft spot for his brother, and in turn sister, which proves to be the reason why the Tachyon Cannon fails. You’d think Imperiex would remove a huge fatality.

But he doesn’t.

Maybe he could hold another type of value for Mekt. Perhaps... nostalgia?

I’m still sold on the idea that they were sleeping together.

Also, give us a conclusive answer on where Mekt stands with the LSV. In the comics, he was the leader, but that role was given to Tyr in the cartoon more or less.

OK I think this has been polished enough for me to post now. What you guys think? Feel free to add on!