#the lack of boundaries is becoming more concerning by the day

[pucksandpower]

So … this happened.

The Formula 1 community — and sports fandom as a whole — needs to have a serious conversation about the dangerous commodification and objectification of athletes.

And I know, I write fanfiction — what right do I have talking about any of this? But there is a reason why the cardinal rule of fanfiction is to keep it far removed from those featured in it. Because those of us who create and consume it know about the importance of boundaries.

Boundaries … that are repeatedly being crossed by so-called fans who choose to forget that Formula 1 drivers and all athletes are human beings while sickeningly violating their privacy and encroaching on their safety in real life.

Things need to change.

This is an issue of morality, dignity, and security. It cannot continue.

[plutosfallenangel]

Random Moon Sign Observations | pt.II

(*based on personal experiences and opinions. look at the whole natal chart to gain complete insight, some aspects/house placements can make contradictions to the below information*)

• Scorpio Moon •

-always watching, taking it all in..

-knows most of the answers to questions before they ask

-dry humor (which I personally love)

-passionate about whatever they put their mind to, no half or 50% effort (they do have to be emotionally bonded to the person or hobbie/task, if not, they're redirecting their energy elsewhere)

-prone to becoming hyperfocused on one specific thing (most times to their detriment)

-mommy issues (but they don't talk about them, and hate when you assume you know the relationship dynamic, it's a very unique relationship dynamic and overtime it can grow to be stronger or more distant)

-deep conversations if they trust you, which is hard to gain. Trust is earned through sacrifice most times.. even if something small, they need to see you prove your loyalty and trust)

-the one I would call to bury a body (jokes pls)

-doesn't like to make assumptions, uses their earned knowledge on human behavior, they will study those around them like a case study, only to come to their own conclusions after seeing all the "facts". They can be extremely patient in this act too... they want to know you from the inside out

-sensitive to shifts in the mood, but again.. most times they will keep this information inside and watch, study you to see why it shifted

• Sagittarius moon •

-life of the party (unless heavy earth placements, bedtime comes sooner than later especially with age)

-will be the one you can call to come help you get your car stuck out of the mud, or go biking in the backwoods.. just down for anything and personally I love that about them

-can be too concerned about keeping the good times rolling, doesn't always directly express emotions.. but it's more like a dark joke, everything is turned into a joke, you just need to decipher it most times. And if it's not turned into a joke, they will laugh after they tell you horrible news. Imo a defense mechanism

-may lack boundaries when it comes to those they connect with emotionally, this isn't always a bad thing, they're coming from a place of exploration... like "how far can you and I go?" However sometimes I find they are the most capable of staying in bad situations, always trying to see the good in everyone

-can start a campfire with their bare hands, or atleast minimal tools, very attracted to fire.. find them near a fire all year round if its possible for them to do so

-can sometimes be sneakier than Scorpio moons.. when they set their eye on something in the distance that they want, they go about it most times in silence (this does depend on which house the moon is in)

-big lovers, big emotions, and larger than life dreams

-facial expressions for DAYS! I love how expressive they are.. warm smiles

-definitely rebellious in their younger years

-doesn't like to be tied down by family, but can adapt (most often moves away from mother)

• Capricorn moon •

- lives by the work hard, play harder motto

-always learns the hard way, doesn't like to take advice, rather learn through experience

-tells you like it is when you ask for relationship advice

-too many responsibilities when they were young, even if they had a good solid foundation growing up and were provided for, the expectations put on them were very heavy

-its never "how are you feeling", more "do you need anything?" and I love them for it

-happiest when they're putting themselves into something they can build on long-term, when they don't have that they can spiral FAST

-these people can drink.. and when I say drink, they're the ones to clear a 12-pack and act like they're still sober (from my experience lol)

-in my experience is much of a mommy's girl/boy as cancer moons are (esp when they're young.. they always want to take care of their mom)

-very in tune with the weather, I notice they most times have allergies or can feel a storm coming from how their body reacts

-big provider energy, but they can feel like they can't accept help from others, and end up toughing out the storm by themselves.. this is often from early childhood experiences that breed the need for extreme independence in some form

• Aquarius moon •

-they are on their own energetic wavelengths together, all aqua moons come here for a very specific reason that aligns with what society needs to be shifted/changed.. no matter how big or small the reputation they have they make an impact on those around them. Most are well-known in their local community

-big futures/big dreamers.. these people can see themselves 10 years down the road when you ask them where they'll be, they might not have a CLUE how to get there (depending on the rest of the chart) but they'll always have a sense of direction intuitively on how to get there

-can become way too overanalyzing of their own feelings and that of others.. over thinkers. They can have a hard time reading emotional encounters in the moment.. they need some time to brew with it, read into it, and for them it's easy to sit with these memories of emotion because aqua is a fixed sign

-there is an inner hermit that exists within all of them, do NOT disturb them during their hermit hours

-doesn't give much energy out to people who do them wrong, or atleast out loud to others. They love to share stories about other people, but aren't the first ones to bring up drama when it happens

-their mom is supportive of their endeavors and always wishes the best for them.. I've never met an aqua moon that didn't have a supportive mom (again this does depend on the whole chart, esp 12H moons)

-naturally creative, most I know are very passionate about creative projects and can easily bury themselves in one for long periods of time

-most times they hate having to cancel plans, not because they dont want to go, it's because they hate feeling like they let someone down

-if they invite you to their house, they will make sure you feel at home

-big social circles, few close friends that understand them

-loves to share their viewpoints, but can have bad memories lol they tend to "misplace" memories, you never know what will trigger an old forgotten memory to come up only to dissappear again

-very smart, loves YouTube videos, emotional comfort documentaries

• Pisces Moon •

-can become their mothers "mother" in a sense, their mom might rely on them a lot

-doesnt mind crying infront of others, and for me I admire this... let it out!! There's NO shame in it! (Just don't do it to manipulate others obv)

-vivid imagination, lucid dreamers, I have a 12H moon and often find myself bonding over dream stories with them

-doesn't mind disappearing until they feel up to being social, just don't forget to check in on them, they love compassion

-i often see when they share their emotions and unfortunate stories with others that it causes them to open up too, they love to hold emotional space for people especially those closest

-can often feel the "blame" from others even if it's not theirs, they can feel like they're always doing something wrong or someone is upset and it is because of them, which is most often not the case

-will decorate with a lot of pastels or a wide variety of colors in their home

-the best mentors in their life are women

-journals, journals, journals... let me into your mind palace

-soft poets, or amateur artists, this moon sign expresses a lot of emotion through art. Art helps them put a finger on how they're feeling. They channel divine messages and emotions through a craft, and even if it's not their own art they are connecting with, they will resonate with it and pass a message along to others that helps them understand something they need to at the time

-either early bedtime or no bedtime at all, creature of the night or morning star.. there's no in between with them

-being alone helps them process the most. Especially the shower lol they can process days worth of emotions in the shower I'm convinced

[downbad4mark]

✩‧₊*:・cinnamon girl ･:*₊‧✩

(zhong chenle x reader)

a/n: love this song, need to stop thinking about chenle tho

wc: 647

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live."

the city lights twinkled outside the window as you sat beside chenle on his couch. despite the serene atmosphere, a storm raged within your heart, threatening to spill the words you had long kept hidden.

chenle, completely oblivious to the turmoil brewing within you, leaned back against the sofa with a weary sigh, his eyes reflecting the weight of his responsibilities as an idol. it pained you to see him like this, his vibrant spirit dimmed by the relentless demands of his career.

the air hung heavy with unspoken words as you sat beside him, the space between you filled with a tension that seemed to grow with each passing moment. it was a familiar feeling, one that had become woven into the fabric of your relationship, or lack thereof.

you watched as he absentmindedly observed the pre-recorded basketball game on his tv, his brow furrowed in concentration. his eyes were glued to the tv screen as he fidgeted with his friendship ring and you stole a moment to admire him.

how you longed to tell him the depth of your feelings, to confess the love that had blossomed within your heart since the day you met. despite the comfortable silence that enveloped you, a sense of unease gnawed at your insides, reminding you of the boundaries that separated you from him.

it felt weird, you thought, to be in this limbo between friendship and something more. you and chenle didn't do the things that friends would normally do – there were the late-night strolls through the park, the gentle rustle of leaves accompanying the soft murmur of your voices as you shared your hopes and dreams beneath the starlit sky, completed with stolen kisses that he liked to tease you about. chenle's laughter echoed through the darkness, a melody that filled your heart with a warmth you could scarcely describe. there were the impromptu visits to your home, where you would spend hours lost in conversation, cuddled up in bed with each other, the world outside fading into oblivion as you revelled in each other's presence. chenle's smile, so bright and infectious, never failed to lift your spirits, banishing the shadows of doubt that lingered at the edges of your mind.

and yet, the connection you shared didn’t go beyond the confines of mere friendship.

but reality brought you to the ground, reminding you of the delicate balance that existed between you. you were just a fleeting presence in his hectic life, comfort in the midst of chaos. to burden him with your feelings now, when he was already burdened with so much, seemed selfish.

so you swallowed the words that threatened to spill from your lips, burying them where they would remain forever unsaid. instead, you offered him a forced smile, a silent reassurance of your unwavering support.

"are you okay, y/n?" chenle's voice pierced through the silence, his gaze searching yours with a hint of concern. “you’re staring, weirdo.”

you nodded, mustering all the strength you had to keep your emotions in check. "i'm fine, lele. just tired."

he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. "you don't have to pretend with me, you know. i can see it in your eyes. something’s up."

you sighed, heart aching at his words, the truth hanging heavy in the air between you. and yet, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words that lay heavy on your tongue.

"i'm just worried about you, chenle," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "you work so hard, and i…” you paused.

don’t say those three words.

“...i wish there was more i could do to help."

a flicker of gratitude flashed in his eyes as he squeezed your hand gently. "just being here as my friend is enough, y/n. you have nothing to worry about!" he grinned.

perhaps some words were better left unspoken.

©downbad4mark

[justsalpals]

I always knew about Stede's self-centeredness and lack of empathy (or more accurately: lack of thought/consideration) for those around him. It was a part of the character, often played for laughs, and always seemed born of a cheerful ignorance and inability to see outside himself originating from his life of privilege rather than any greed or selfishness.

I assumed a major part of the story would be him growing as a person and learning what it really meant to be a captain. How to care for and look out for the crew. It seemed so engrained into the show's concept, before Ed even showed up, that it never once occurred to me that he just. Wouldn't.

There are examples all over the show, but there's an example that cut me far deeper than the rest. That completely changes how much leeway I was willing to give the character, and made me genuinely so mad for the crew.

You guessed it. It's about Ed, the complete disregard of the crew's wishes and boundaries, and him proving his own hypocrisy and how he's completely willing to manipulate and disregard what I'd thought was a core tenant to his character (ie: "talking it through" meeting others with kindness and understanding, ect.)

It's about how the crew voted Ed to be banished, and Stede invited him back the very same night. It's about "one night" suddenly becoming an extended stay. It's about Stede actually fucking shushing people voicing their concerns and feelings during the apology. It's about what a big deal they made about the probation compromise, Ed in a sack and bell until the crew was comfortable with him again and (once again) Ed literally being back in his leathers 24 hours later. (I usually mentally insert at least a few days between episodes, but we know that wasn't the case here because of Lucius and Pete's engagement sex marathon.)

How many of you wanna bet that the crew genuinely got together and decided they were comfortable with Ed again, after he what? Caught one fish with Fang? Or would you rather bet that Ed got bored of humoring them? Because I know where I'd put my money.

And the crew's attitude breaks my heart, the general vibe summed up by Archie shortly after Ed's non-apology. This is just what happens. It's like when she had to fight Jim to death in the storm. This is just how it goes. The people in charge make the rules, and everyone else just has to deal with it.

So much for the new age of piracy, huh? Sounds like Stede fits right in with how it's always been, just dressed up in empty kind words and false promises.

[soulessjourney]

Vengeance Trail

Part 1

Paring: Billy the kid x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Billy had known each other during your younger years. However, following an argument, you departed to forge your own path, leaving things on bad terms between the two of you. Years later, circumstances led you back, having been recruited to assist John Tunstall. As the war drew nearer, tensions resurfaced between both of you.

Warnings: Some violence, language, Billy again not knowing what to do with himself

A/N: She's not perfect, but I hope this helps feed your hunger for part 2. I did decide to make a google form if you would like to be tagged in any future works of mine, so feel free to fill it out! Join the taglist!

You had been staying at Tunstall's ranch for about a week now, and during this time, contact between you and Billy had been minimal following the events of last week. Part of you felt grateful for this lack of interaction. You didn’t know how to face him anymore, especially after what had transpired that morning. Billy attempted to pull you aside and talk, but you consistently brushed him off, providing any excuse that came to mind. Fortunately, Tunstall kept you occupied with plenty of tasks, effectively keeping you away from Billy.

As you walked through the house, adjusting the gun belt delicately resting on your hips, you closed your eyes momentarily, letting out a small sigh. Upon reopening them, you stepped into the kitchen, where Charlie was busy preparing breakfast. “Good morning, Charlie. You’re here quite early,” you remarked, moving around the kitchen to assist him with the food.

“Well, you know me—I’m an early riser. Tunstall called for a meeting this morning to discuss plans with you and the others, particularly addressing the steps we’re going to take concerning Murphy. He's displeased with the current situation in town, especially the trouble that arose between you and Jesse,” Charlie mentioned, raising a brow.

Inhaling sharply, you chuckled softly. “That wasn’t entirely my fault. Jesse didn’t grasp the concept of boundaries, so I merely reminded him. It's not my fault that it resulted in me punching him in the face,” you grumbled, smiling as Charlie burst into laughter. Over your time here, you and Charlie had grown close, especially after he provided comfort following what happened with Billy. He had become a devoted friend, for which you were immensely grateful. “Let's serve the food to the boys. I assume they’re all in the other room?” Charlie nodded, leading you into the large dining area, where Tunstall, Billy, and George were seated.

Placing the plates in front of the boys, you took a seat next to Charlie, which unfortunately positioned you directly in front of Billy. As everyone began to eat, Tunstall glanced at you from his position at the head of the table. “Y/N, I heard about the incident involving you and Jesse the other day. I must say, I’m somewhat disappointed in your actions, but also oddly proud,” he remarked, and you beamed, noting the confused expression Billy shot your way.

“Well, as I mentioned to Charlie, Jesse simply needed a gentle reminder about boundaries, and you know I don’t resort to certain measures unless absolutely necessary, Mr. Tunstall.” You grinned, earning an approving nod from Tunstall and a thumbs-up from George. “But I do promise to be more mindful of my conduct from now on and steer clear of any further confrontations.” You offered the boys a soft smile. Tunstall nodded before delving into detailed discussions about what to expect in the coming days and assigning tasks to each of you.

“Finally, Billy and Y/N, I’m teaming you both up. I want the two of you in town with Charlie. Whatever it is—shopping or sitting in the saloon—I want the three of you to keep an ear on Murphy’s men,” Tunstall instructed. Charlie nodded and glanced between you and Billy. “I don’t care about your history. You both need to find common ground. I won’t tolerate your feud jeopardizing our efforts. You both have skills, and together, you can help achieve our goals.” Tunstall’s stern gaze was fixed on both you and Billy.

You nodded in agreement before Billy could interject. “Certainly, Mr. Tunstall. I’m sure Billy and I can find common ground. I wouldn’t want any of this to jeopardize our hard work,” you smiled before standing. Gathering the empty dishes, you made your way to the kitchen, tidying up the room. Someone entered, prompting a sigh. “I know, Charlie, I’ll sort things out with Billy. I don’t need a lecture,” you grumbled, looking up only to freeze in your tracks.

“Well, I hope you and I can reach an understanding,” Billy said, offering a small smile. “Now that I have you here, I really want to discuss what happened between us.” Dismissing him, you wiped your hands on your black trousers and pushed past Billy.

“There’s nothing to discuss, Billy. It was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened,” you stated, arranging the cans on the shelf. “Finding common ground means civil conversation, not me returning to you. I allowed myself to trust you again, even though I vowed I wouldn’t, and you took advantage of it,” you muttered, fiddling with a can in your hands. “I can’t forgive you for that, not after what you did.” Slamming the can down, you flung the door open and walked out, biting your lip.

Billy followed and grabbed your arm, turning you towards him. “Stop walking away, Y/N, and let me explain, please.” His eyes held a mix of sadness and fear. Sighing, you tilted your head back, jaw clenched. Meeting his gaze, you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

“I want to be with you. Everything I said that night was genuine. I was just scared—I thought acknowledging our connection would make me vulnerable, especially with Murphy’s situation. I thought saying it was a mistake would protect you somehow,” he explained, his eyes softening more than you thought possible. He looked vulnerable, and all you wanted was to hold him close.

“You hurt me, Billy. I was willing to risk everything and admit feelings I’ve had since we were kids. Waking up next to you was all I wanted. I still care about you deeply, but you hurt me,” tears welled up in your eyes, and he cupped your face in his hands, wiping away any tears that fell.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was foolish, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I want you with me more than anything. Let me make it up to you and prove my dedication to you,” he whispered, receiving a small nod from you in response. With that, he leaned in and kissed you.

---

You, Billy, and Charlie strolled through town, observing kids running about and families engaging in various activities while vendors attempted to sell their wares. Billy walked to your left, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as you scanned the surroundings. Meeting his gaze, you offered a slight smile, which was reciprocated as he gently clasped your hand, giving it a tender squeeze.

“Why don’t we split up? We can cover more ground without drawing attention to ourselves. Y/N, you can wander the streets and listen in on conversations. We know Murphy’s men will be around to keep things in check. I'll hang around the Saloon and see what I can gather. Charlie, you know where you're needed,” Billy suggested, glancing between both of you. Charlie nodded, turning on his heel and departing. Before you could step away, Billy tightened his grip on your hand, causing your gaze to meet his.

“Please be cautious. If you and Jesse had a confrontation, he won’t take it lightly and might come after you. He’s dangerous, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured softly.

Smiling reassuringly, you reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “I won’t let him near me. Besides, I can hold my ground. That punch was just a warning. Trust me, Cowboy,” you grinned, leaning in to tenderly press your lips against his. Billy reciprocated before pulling back, smiling down at you.

Brushing a stray hair from your eyes, he leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I trust you. Go, but if anything goes wrong, find me. You know where I’ll be,” he murmured against your forehead. Stepping back, you squeezed his hand before navigating through the crowd. You could sense his watchful gaze on your back as you walked away—a small yet tender gesture.

Walking through the bustling crowd, a smile graced your lips as you observed a younger girl being playfully chased by a boy around her age. It brought back memories of you and Billy in your younger days, his playful pursuit as the self-proclaimed notorious outlaw, countered by your claim to that title. Chuckling to yourself, those innocent words seemed ironically true now. You and Billy had become the very outlaws you once playfully pretended to be, but this time, it was no game. Bounties were placed on your heads, and life had become a constant vigil, always watching over your shoulder.

Billy feared losing you, while you feared losing yourself in this harsh existence. You understood that while bounties hung over you, a normal life remained out of reach. The fear of walking an irreversible path haunted you, and it seemed like the only direction you were heading. Working for Tunstall had been your ticket out of this harrowing path, but as time passed, freedom appeared more elusive.

Lost in contemplation, you collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie. Meeting the person's eyes, your gaze hardened upon recognizing Jesse. “Ah, Sadie Bennet, the girl who thought she could throw a punch and get away with it,” Jesse sneered, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

Arms crossed, you stood firm. “What do you want, Jesse? Another reminder of our last encounter? Be grateful I didn’t reveal the full extent of what you did, or they wouldn’t just be after Murphy—they’d be after you too,” you spat, grimacing as Jesse tightly gripped your wrist.

“Oh, come on, Sadie. We had quite the time together. Last I recall, you warmed my bed,” Jesse taunted, causing you to scoff, wrenching your wrist free from his grasp. “Don’t deny it. You’re not angry about my advances. We shared quite a few unforgettable moments not long ago. But does your dear Billy know the truth about us?”

“Billy doesn’t know because nothing happened, Jesse. You took advantage of my vulnerability when I was ill. And let me remind you, I’m not yours to claim whenever you wish. I mean it, Jesse. Lay a hand on me again, and it’ll be a bullet in your head,” you warned, fixing him with a steely glare. Jesse let out a derisive laugh, taking a step back, nodding before addressing you.

Bending down, Jesse whispered in your ear, “Fine, Sadie. I'll behave, only because I know what you’re capable of. But I’ve got my eye on you. Step out of line, and I’ll spill everything to Billy and end you. Watch yourself, Ms. Bennet. You’re on thin ice.” He straightened, tipping his hat in your direction before sauntering away. Unable to suppress a snarl, you watched him depart, feeling the anger simmering within.

Your attention snapped to Charlie as he rounded the corner, his raised brows signaling his curiosity as he approached you. “Should I ask what that was all about?” he inquired, his gaze scrutinizing your every move as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Scanning your surroundings, you pondered how you would tell him, feeling his penetrating stare only intensify your unease. "Was there something between you and Jesse before Lincoln County?” he prodded, pressing for an answer.

Sighing, you dropped your arms to your sides and nodded. “Yes, but I wouldn’t really call it something happening. A few months prior to your invitation to Lincoln County, Jesse and his crew found me by the river. I’d fallen ill after being alone for some time. They took me back to their camp and nursed me back to health. Jesse misconstrued that as me owing him something and tried to pursue a relationship. Unfortunately, that led to him trying to share my bed one night. Nothing occurred, but he certainly aimed to leave that impression. I woke up the next morning and left. Clearly, he's still bitter about it and insists I owe him something, which I don’t,” you explained, shooting a glare in the direction Jesse had walked off in.

Charlie nodded along with your explanation, offering a gentle pat on your shoulder. “I suppose that's why you didn’t tell Billy about Jesse, as you mentioned. Billy's a good lad, but he sometimes doesn’t think rationally. I get why you've refrained from telling him. But considering whatever's between you two, don’t you think it’s best to inform him so he doesn't find out through the grapevine?” Charlie suggested, prompting you to focus on his words. He had a valid point; it would be wiser to tell the truth about Jesse to Billy before Jesse could manipulate his thoughts.

“You make a good point. Let's head back to the saloon. I didn’t catch much while walking, so we can all just unwind this evening, have a drink, and talk. It’s been too long since we’ve sat down for a relaxed conversation,” you beamed, beginning to move toward the Saloon with Charlie beside you. You knew you had to tell Billy, but the timing needed to be right. You didn’t want him constantly fretting about your safety concerning Jesse, especially with the ongoing tension between Tunstall and Murphy.

---

As both of you arrived, Billy emerged from the building, adjusting his suspenders, his eyes brightening upon seeing you. He nodded toward Charlie before glancing between both of you. “Did you find anything while you were out?” he inquired, reaching up to gently caress your arm. Charlie shook his head, diverting his gaze to you. You sensed his expectation for an explanation, but you couldn't bring yourself to disclose the truth just yet.

“Nothing much, just people expressing discontent with Murphy’s power,” you shrugged, noting the disappointment in Charlie’s eyes as he shot you a disapproving look. It felt wrong to withhold the truth about your encounter with Jesse, but revealing it to Billy without instigating him to pursue Jesse seemed daunting. “Let’s head back. We can update Tunstall on whatever little information we gathered tonight. Even though it was minimal, he’d like to be informed,” you suggested, glancing at the boys.

Billy's attention shifted over your shoulder toward the saloon behind you. “Just a moment,” he uttered, walking past you toward the Saloon. Observing his movements closely, Charlie moved to stand beside you. You noticed a carriage parked nearby. Shortly after Billy positioned himself against the saloon pillar, the door opened, and two women stepped out. One was older, while the other, quite beautiful, caught your eye. Glancing at Charlie for clarification, he shrugged and kept his focus on Billy. “Señorita Del Tobosco,” he spoke up.

Your eyebrows shot up at his nervous tone and fidgeting. “Who is she?” you asked Charlie in a hushed tone as the two conversed in Spanish.

“Her name is Dulcinea del Tobosco. She belongs to one of Mexico’s wealthiest families. Billy spotted her some time ago, around the time of your fallout, and seemed intrigued,” Charlie explained quietly, observing your reaction. You felt a twinge of discomfort at Charlie’s revelation and Billy’s interest. As they continued their conversation, Dulcinea’s confident demeanor exuded elegance in her burnt orange dress, holding an envelope as she raised her chin in Billy’s direction, almost challenging him.

Billy adjusted his posture, resting his arm on his holstered pistol. The interaction made you uneasy, and you were determined to understand Billy's sudden interest. “Who are you?” Dulcinea inquired, her gaze fixed on him, issuing an unspoken challenge.

“I’m Billy,” he replied, a sudden surge of confidence in his tone. “I just wanted to introduce myself.” You couldn’t help but scoff quietly, prompting Charlie to grasp your wrist and pull you away. Billy wasn't one to introduce himself casually, especially to other women, unless he had an ulterior motive.

Halting Charlie's attempt to pull you away, you shifted your stance, determined to catch the remainder of their conversation. “That’s hardly a reason to ambush someone in the street,” she remarked, prompting an eye-roll from you. Billy's approach hardly qualified as an ambush, and her overbearing confidence grated on your nerves. Deciding you'd heard enough, you pivoted on your heel, intending to leave, only to halt at her next question. “Do you have another motive?” she probed, causing your mind to race. Glancing over your shoulder at Billy, you hoped his response wouldn’t push you over the edge.

Billy remained silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words to her. “I’d like to see you again,” he eventually stated. Anger surged within you at his words. Just hours ago, Billy had been pleading with you to comprehend his hesitation, yet here he was, asking to meet another woman as if the intimacy he shared with you earlier meant nothing. Turning to Charlie, you muttered about leaving, then mounted your horse, riding back to Tunstall's residence, refusing to listen to any further conversation.

---

That evening, you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling, lost in thought, replaying the recent hours in your mind. Between Jesse's confrontation in the street and Billy's interest in another woman, you wished you could simply vanish. Tunstall and the others had given you space, allowing you to return upstairs without a word, slamming your door shut behind you upon entering your room. Toying with the necklace around your neck, you rested an arm behind your head before dropping the locket onto your chest. Sitting up, you swung your legs over the bed's edge, running your fingers through your hair, when the door behind you creaked open.

"I was wondering where you went off to. Charlie said you left in a hurry," Billy spoke quietly from behind, gently closing the door.

Releasing a sarcastic laugh, you kept your back turned, tilting your head back to compose yourself. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand there as you asked for the time of another woman," you mumbled, your gaze fixated on the painting in front of you. Part of you recognized the hypocrisy of being upset with Billy when you were keeping something from him, but this felt different.

Billy remained silent for a moment before walking toward the bed. "It’s not what you think. I just want to gather information from her about her family. They’re powerful, Y/N, that kind of influence could be useful in the future, even you can’t deny that," he reasoned, prompting a scoff from you as you stood and turned to face him.

"That’s not believable, Billy. No man is that nervous to talk to a woman just to know about her family. You may be good at manipulating people, but you’re not that skilled of an actor to fool someone like you're trying to do now. Charlie mentioned your sudden interest in her, and how you tend to look for her whenever you’re in town," you challenged, even though the last part was an exaggeration, hoping to catch him in a lie. His avoidance confirmed your suspicions.

"Okay, you're not far off. She has a certain allure, and I want to uncover it," he admitted, reaching out to you. "I promise there are no romantic feelings involved."

Slapping his hand away, you moved around the bed, standing before him, projecting confidence. "Well, Billy, don’t expect me to stick around while you play games," you asserted, meeting his gaze firmly.

Billy nodded, trying to caress your cheek. "Then come with us. She wants to go riding in a few days. Why don’t you join us? Perhaps you’ll understand what I’m trying to do," he suggested, pressing his forehead against yours. Suppressing the urge to push him away and confront him further, you hesitated, unsure if his words were sincere or just another facade.

You relented, placing your hands on his chest. "Fine, I’ll come along, but remember, Billy, if you’re deceiving me, I won’t hesitate to throw you off a nearby cliff," you grumbled, drawing a soft chuckle from him, noting the rapid pulse under your hand.

Leaning down, Billy pressed his lips against yours, and foolishly, you reciprocated, succumbing to your desires. "I promise, you're the only one for me," he whispered after breaking the kiss. You responded with a small nod, pulling him closer. You felt young and naive, already regretting trusting his reassurances.

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld

[aylish91]

Its a late night and i had a scenario for the Leviathan Au…

Reader was born a mer, and actually the last of their species due to the unfortunate involvement of humans, and nightmare decides to take in reader because of this.

Maybe a comfort scene where reader is grieving over the loss of the members from her pod and the loss of her species in general and nightmare finds them alone? I would love to see what your take on this would be..

A morsel for your soul dear Anon. I may have misread it the first time, but we got there! hahaha! Have some first meetings and hurt/comfort.

Thank you for reading and requesting!

Why do you Weep?

The deep was… different. The pressure made your fins heavy and breath hard. You knew in time your body would become more accustomed to it and work out its difficulties, but for now, it was one more reminder of how much things had changed.

You missed the shallows and the reef. You missed your reef. You missed the laughter and anticipation of waiting for hunting parties returning with jellies and siphonophores.

You missed everything.

Sometimes you wonder if it would have been better if you had stayed behind. At least then you could have been lost with all the others. As it was, your mother’s panicked pleas were the only thing keeping you going. She and your father had given up so much that you might survive…

It hurt.

Flaring the soft ridges of your spine and fins, you forced yourself to dive deeper. You weren’t sure how far you had swum to reach the trench, but your mother was adamant that your safety hinged on descending “past the edge of day”.

Humans couldn’t follow unaided.

You knew you had reached it when a thin barrier of dark magic barred your path.

Though you were still cautious, crossing the border had been an immense relief. The waters had turned far too dark from the addition of nightfall and you were on the verge of collapse. Finally being able to search for a place to rest gave you hope.

The ledge you eventually found was large enough to lay but not inlaid enough for any sort of proper protection, but you made it work. Your pitiful nest may have lacked material, but it was enough to sleep on for a night. Besides, in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Your fins bristled.

If it had been any darker, you would never have noticed the massive tentacles creeping around the ledge ready to encase you. Quickly dodging, a growled reverberating voice sent true fear gripping your soul.

 “Why do you weep, little fish? What causes you such trepidation?” Though the words were that of concerned question, their tone and the intent boiling the water proved otherwise. Any genuine concern was replaced with that of mistrust and hunger.

You were nothing more than a trespasser. Prey to be chased and hunted.

Instincts had you darting up and away, but what you thought was an exit quickly turned into a trap. The tentacles were merely a distraction for the dark leviathan before you, his large skeletal hands loosely surrounding your escape. All you could do was flair your fins in hopes the flash of blue and white would warn against attack or consumption.

The titan only gave a pleased hum, a single slit of an orb casting eerie shadows. It made you distinctly aware of other flashes just out of sight of its light.

“Oh my~ A Sea Swallow? It has been quite the amount of time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing one of your kind. What brings one this far into my territory? And in such a state? Pushing boundaries again, or simply a mistake? Please, do tell.”

A spot of jittering red passed overhead.

You couldn’t speak, terror allowing your poison to coat your body. At your silence, the titan leaned closer with a growl.

“What’s the matter? Has my appearance truly been this much of a surprise as to capture your tongue?”

The silhouette of a very large shark passed on the right. You flinched at the movement, the giant’s eyelight dilating to flick over you. Your soul was pounded in your chest as you shook but your words remained locked away.

Slowly, he leaned back.

“Pity. These circumstances have been less than appealing. Perhaps… a gentler touch is needed…” His fingers closed around you. “Come. I wish to know what has driven a Blue Angel this deep.”

You didn’t fight. You couldn’t. You were helpless as he dragged you further into the dark unknown.

***

You found yourself wandering back to the rim. Time had played a big part in your return, but it didn’t make the journey any easier. However, once there, you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the precipice of the deep. You stayed at its mouth, gazing back toward the reefs and shallows up ahead.

The silence was deafening.

Despite everything you had gone through, the growth and strides you had made, the water felt heavier now than in the depths. The colors were too bright, sunshine overwhelming instead of warm. Everything felt like it was too much.

There was no one to greet you home.

…

You couldn’t do it.

As tears burned the corner of your eyes, you found yourself wishing you had never taken the trip. Flashes of your past had you breaking. Sobs wracked with heavy tears filled the silence. In your grief, your fins paled in their droop as you floated freely in the open water. They pulled you slowly down to drift past the cliffs and crags as you sank.

You were numb, watching the light above dim the further you fell. One moment became two, two became four until time drifted with you into nothingness. It took a sudden uplift in the water for you to regain any sense of reality. A familiar glow cutting through your metaphorical darkness.

Nightmare’s face hovered above you, his tentacles flaring below. The subtle brush against your fins had you registering his hands carefully cupping your form. In a way, it reminded you of the very first time you passed into the realm of the deep, the soft rumble of his voice pulling you further from the oblivion.

“Where are you, little fish? Your mind has taken you beyond my reach.”

His words were oddly quiet, eyelight dim as it searched. It stirred something within you, helping you feel for the first time just how cold you had become. Slowly, you moved enough to grip one of his clawed fingers. His thumb, though hesitant, came to stroke your soft underbelly.

You felt muted and far away.

“Everyone is gone... It’s too quiet.”

“Something tells me it's not the boys to which you refer.”

Tears once again threatened to spill. “My family. My pod... They—”

“Are down in the deep.” You felt the water shift from his shuddered intake of breath. “Those that came before might not be with you Angel, but that does not mean there can’t be others. Has our time meant so little that you cannot see them for what they truly are? What we, are?” You had never heard him take such a gentle but firm tone. So quiet. Reserved for only the two of you. You could feel the overwhelming intent in each word. It spread comfort with promises of so much more.

“We may not be able to bring back your past, but do not forget your future in your grief. The present is still here, waiting. The shiver would be very disappointed if you forgot that.”

“All this time I was just— How? How do I keep going? It hurts! Nothing’s the same anymore!”

His giant skull came to bonk and nuzzle into yours. “With time, nothing ever is. There is always change, no matter how subtle. We grow, we love, we lose. Currents move and sands pass. It is unfortunate you should have to face such things so soon, but we are here, and we can help carry the burden.” A claw caressed your tear-stained cheek. “Share your sorrows, that I might ease your pain. You are not alone.”

For the first time since the incident, you felt a deep sense of release. The ache in your soul softened. Gripping tighter, you pressed back with a desperation you didn’t know you had.

“I wish you could roam in the shallows. If you were… Should I ever get the courage to go back, I would have liked you to be there.”

“Perhaps…” He hesitated, eyelight darting away as a hint of color bloomed on his skull. “Perhaps when you are ready, I will be.”

You met his gaze in confusion. “But, how—”

A gentle claw pressed against your lips with a mischievous chuckle, water rushing from Nightmare’s sudden descent. “Now now, my Angel. All in due time. For now, let us return. The others await your return home.”

…

Home.

… You smiled, leaning more into the giant. It looked like there would be someone to greet you after all.

[vigilante-3073]

Do you have any thoughts on what Wilson might be insecure about and how reader might comfort him?

Insecurities

James Wilson x Reader

TW: Mentions of infidelity and age-gap, hurt/comfort

Wilson has the biggest heart and tends to put everyone before himself. If he did have insecurities, it's not likely that he would bring them up to his partner independently.

It would definitely take some meddling from House or a partner who is very aware of Wilson and his emotional state. His partner would need to be able to tell when he is going through something because it is unlikely that he would bring up his concerns without prompting.

Wilson is more likely to become distant in an effort to avoid being put in a situation where he would have to discuss his insecurities.

Possible insecurities he could have:

1. Age gap if his partner was younger than him.

He would be fine for the first few months, but then he would slowly become aware of how others perceived his relationship.

A few jokes from House about "robbing the cradle" or "dating outside of his decade" would send him into a silent, downward spiral.

He's worried that he won't be enough for his partner and the differences between them will become more apparent as they get older.

2. Not being able to remain loyal to his spouse.

Wilson has a wandering eye that cannot be controlled even when he has a ring on his finger.

He loves his partner completely, but he dreads the day when their marriage isn't enough for him.

Wilson wants a love that can fulfill him, but he worries that it doesn't exist.

3. Being able to devote time to his partner while also maintaining a friendship with House.

Wilson's friendship with House takes up a large amount of both his personal and professional time.

He never established boundaries with House and as a result, House tends to monopolize every moment that he can.

Wilson is worried that he won't be able to balance his relationships and will wind up being there for House instead of his partner.

He wants to devote his time to his partner, but he finds himself being pulled in House's direction.

In previous relationships, he has always spent more time helping House while leaving his spouses unsupported and he worries that he won't be able to change his behavior.

How his S/O comforts him:

It would take a lot of persistence to get him to reveal how he really feels.

The disclosure of his insecurities would help to unburden him, but he would probably feel embarrassed or ashamed of having the worries that he did.

Wilson would need his partner to take him in their arms and tell him everything was going to be alright, even if they didn't really know it for sure.

He would want his partner to make him feel heard and understood because he's likely had these insecurities for a long time.

Wilson may even need his partner to tell him that they trust him and cast some light on how outrageous his insecurities may seem (Especially in the case of the age gap).

Wilson would definitely value a partner who checked in with him routinely or called him out when they noticed him starting to withdraw.

You could even argue that the distance he creates or the lack of information sharing has led to the end of some of his marriages.

Wilson holds everything inside and he would need someone who is willing to take the time to pull that information out of him.

[writtenfromhawkins]

hoax - part two.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: as you had feared, your fake date changed the dynamic between you and steve. but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

word count: 2.7k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, princess bride spoilers (kind of? i don’t know, it’s been thirty years, watch the movie and then talk to me about it because it’s my favorite).

author’s note: it’s finally here! hope everyone enjoys it. @taylorsmylover​ @sllooney​ @cheerupbarry​

part one.

all's well that ends well to end up with you.

After Steve dropped you off at home, life went on. You worked, you studied, you spent time with your friends—including him. Nothing felt off per se, but there was a shift, a change in routine, a difference maybe not dramatic to you, but something the others definitely picked up on.

For movie night, your suggestion The Princess Bride lost handily. Despite that, though, Steve still showed up with a copy.

“Oh,” he’d said, almost sheepish, “this isn’t the one we agreed on? Sorry, guys.”

The two of you sat a little closer on the couch, whispered softer, and giggled more. He rolled his eyes and grumbled when you talked about how cute Cary Elwes was, you playfully smacked his bicep in response. It was a nice, quiet night, totally typical, so you couldn’t figure out why Robin looked so perplexed when you caught her eye from across the room.

Maybe if that had been it—just one weird night of affection—your friends could have left it alone, chalking it up to a lapse of judgment on your part. But it didn’t stop. Hugs went on for too long, and smiles lingered. Any time you passed, his hand somehow found the small of your back, guiding you by. Sure, Steve was known to be affectionate with you, boundaries long abandoned, so it wasn’t that weird. But the way you’d lean into each touch was a new development. Although not as alarming of one as Steve’s very recent lack of flirting.

Cute girl after cute girl passed through Family Video without receiving so much as a wink or a terribly delivered pick up and Robin was becoming increasingly concerned. If he wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t whining enough for that, it meant something else was going on.

“Harrington,” she hissed one day, eyes wide, “that total babe was throwing herself at you. That, like, never happens.”

“Was she?” Steve’s bewilderment was genuine, he simply hadn’t noticed.

“Come on, you didn’t see that? I could feel the sexual tension from here.”

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘P’. “Guess she just wasn’t my type.”

But Robin knew better, he wasn’t exactly discerning; anyone with a pulse and boobies was his type. Something was up and, after conspiring—gossiping—with Eddie, she was determined to figure out what exactly it was.

—     

You’d probably never admit it, especially not unprompted, but Tuesday was your favorite day of the week. Sure, you were stuck at work for far too long—three doubles allowed you the freedom to study while also affording you the luxury of paying your bills—but it was also heavy metal night. Pickings were slim in a town the size of Hawkins and, as a result, Corroded Coffin got the chance to basically do a full set and you got to see your friends.

It became routine ever since Eddie joined your little group. You, of course, had no choice but to be in attendance. But Steve and Robin would come by too. Your regulars hadn’t been too receptive to the band—you’d been asked what is this ruckus? too many times to count—so, while none of you were exactly metal heads, you figured three confused, but supportive faces in the crowd couldn’t hurt. Besides, you found if you cheered loud enough, you could get most of the other bargoers on board. 

So it was no surprise to see Eddie step through the dinged door, followed promptly by Robin. Even if they were a little early.

“Hey, guys,” you call out, waving. 

You duck below the bar where the sanitizing bucket and rags were located. The very brief lull after Happy Hour didn’t allow for much dallying and you were stuck doing your regular tasks in a very short window of time: clean the bar, get clean glasses, and cut up your garnishes. 

You grab a torn piece of fabric, dip it in the cleaning solution carefully and stand. You’re barely back to your full height when you’re greeted by Eddie and Robin’s faces just inches from yours. They’re leaning forward, elbows resting on the very surface you need to clean. 

“Jesus Christ!” You rear back, free hand jumping to your chest. 

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Eddie asks, raising his brows. He can’t help it—he’s curious.

“Yeah,” Robin encourages with a nod, “we don’t keep secrets here.”

You sigh, reaching out and pushing them back gently so you can wipe up rings of condensation and spilled booze. “I’d really like to play along but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Robin laughs. If it sounds like she doesn’t believe you it’s because she doesn’t. “Uh huh, sure.”

“Something’s up with you and Steve, we can tell.”

You freeze. “I—what?”

“You’re not denying it,” Eddie points out, grinning.

“No, she’s not,” Robin agrees.

It was then you realize what was going on: you were being interrogated. “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”

“We’re friends and he’s not all over me,” Robin points out.

“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” you quip.

“The Princess Bride!”

“What?”

“The Princess fucking Bride,” Eddie repeats himself, eyeing you knowingly. “I was finally gonna get you guys to watch Labyrinth and he showed up with that.”

“He grabbed the wrong movie, so what?” You pause. “And you loved The Princess Bride!”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a chuckle, “I really did. It has some really badass sword scenes and Andre the Giant, what’s not to like?” All very fair points.

Robin sighs, poking at his shoulder. “You’re getting distracted.” She fixes her gaze on you. “Steve is the worst liar. You gotta know he did that on purpose.”

Alright, yeah, you kinda did. He wasn’t going to be getting any Oscars any time soon. But it was an act you didn’t—couldn’t—think too much about.

If you really considered it, after that night with his parents, a switch flipped, and never went back. You weren’t together, you were still very much just friends, but the touches, the unbridled affection, the soft moments didn’t stop after the facade ended and you weren’t complaining.

The dam had burst and you didn’t think you could go back. You worried if you brought it up, shining a spotlight on the niceties, that it would all end. You were selfish—you wanted it all.

“Okay…” You let out a huff of air. “So, we did kinda go on a date.”

The revelation sends Robin spiraling. “What?” She exclaims, dramatically throwing herself on the bar—she couldn’t just feel her despair, she had to show it too. “And here I thought you were the one girl in town left immune to the Harrington… uh, charm, I guess?”

“Shush,” you admonish, shooting her a warning look. You turn, flashing your customers an apologetic before your focus turns back to your friends. “It wasn’t real.”

“Alright, you lost me now,” Eddie pipes up.

Robin raises her head just enough so she can look up at you through long lashes. “What does that mean?”

“His dad was being a dick about some work dinner and he needed a plus one.” You shrug. “I just had to act like his girlfriend.”

“Oh god,” Robin groans. “Can’t believe we gave him that much credit.”

“Huh?”

“He’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for ages.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums in agreement. “It’s kinda gross.”

“We thought he finally did something about it. Even though I always thought you were too smart for that.”

They kept going but your mind was reeling. “Goo-goo eyes?”

“You’re still on that?” Robin can’t hide it, she was enjoying this. “Yes, he practically turns into a Bugs Bunny cartoon with giant heart eyes every time he sees you. And, in true dingus fashion, he asks you on a fake date instead of a real one.” She shakes her head. “Makes no sense but it obviously worked on you somehow.”

“It didn’t—I—”

“Oh, come on.”

You blink, there’s nothing for you to say. You can’t exactly argue with Robin but actually agreeing feels wrong too. You’re stuck, two pairs of eyes trained intently on you, and you’re desperate for escape. You scan the crowd of bored-looking customers, none of which seem to eagerly need you, before you catch glimpse of the empty stage.

“Don’t you have a show or something?”

Eddie smirks. He knows what you’re doing but, in an act of pity, he decides to play along. “As a matter of fact, I do. Think the boys should be here by now. Wanna help us set up, Rob?”

“Sure.” She spins around on the stool and, when she gets up, you think you’re free. Until she calls over her shoulder, “Better figure it out soon, lover girl.”

—

Less than an hour later, the stage was full of instruments, microphones, and, most importantly, the band itself. The crowd increased, although not entirely for the music, and you didn’t notice Steve arrived until he was standing right before you.

Your grip on the bottle of Southern Comfort you were holding slackened a bit. All you could think was goo-goo eyes.

“Hey. sweetheart,” he grins, plopping down and claiming the nearest bar stool as his own.

You hold up a finger, letting him know you’d be with him in a minute, as you replace the bottle of whiskey with sloe gin and amaretto—with both hands officially occupied, you poured an ounce of each into the shaker.

“Crazy night,” you let him know, voice just barely able to be heard over the screeching of electric guitars and booming drums. You’re talking but you’ve yet to really look at him.

Orange juice fills the rest of the metal cup before you’re sliding a cover on, throwing it over your shoulder, and shaking the cup from side to side. Once it’s mixed and chilled, you drain it out into a Collins glass, admiring the brightly colored liquid that trickled out. Prettiest Alabama Slammer you’ve made yet.

That drink belongs to the redhead at the end of the bar. You slide it over to her with the friendliest “there ya go, love” you could muster before walking back over to your newest customer.

“Want your regular, Stevie?”

When he gives you the affirmative, you get to work. Whiskey sour, very light on the sour.

It’s easy enough and you’re handing him his drink in record time. In exchange, as always, you get far too much money. You used to argue, your attempt at letting him know he was being too generous, but he’d never budge—if he could, he’d give you even more, you were worth every penny.

He sips it casually while studying you over the rim of the glass. You looked pretty, that never seemed to change, but your shoulders were stiff and your jaw clenched. He could tell something was up. “You seem tense.”

You got that right. “I’m fine, just a little tired, I guess.”

It’s an easy lie after being at work for nine hours but it was one Steve didn’t really buy. Not that he pushed it. The two of you were close enough that he knew if you wanted to talk to him, you would. So he changed the subject. “Where’s Robin?”

“She’s around here somewhere. She showed up with Eddie to help set up.”

“Weird, we always come together.”

“Yeah, weird,” you agree. But he had no idea just how strange it was.

The mention of your mutual friend gets you thinking, though. You have no idea how Steve felt or if what they said was true, but you knew what was going on in your heart and your mind—and it was enough to alarm the people closest to you.

For the sake of the whole group, maybe it would be a good idea to just clear the air.

“Steve?” When he looks at you, you avert your gaze, focusing instead on the hanging wine glasses above the bar.  “What are you doing after this?”

“Hanging out with you.” The delivery was smooth, easy. But panic set in as he sat on the words, unease seeping through at the idea that you weren’t asking because you wanted to get together. “You, uh, know if that was like.. what you meant.”

It definitely was. “Come by my place after closing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”

—

When you pull up outside your apartment hours later, Steve is already there, leaning against his car, waiting for you. You take a moment just to enjoy the sight—he looked like he belonged there, outside your home—before throwing your car in park and getting out.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” You suggest. “It’s late.”

You lead the way up rickety stairs, past long dead plants you’d since abandoned, and to your front door. It certainly wasn’t Steve’s first time at your place, but you couldn’t help it—you were nervous, unready for the conversation you were going to have to initiate. 

You look around for a moment, hoping for a distraction, one that would never come, you nod towards the living room. “We should sit.”

It’s a suggestion, but one Steve eagerly takes. As if it’s not your own home, he places his hand on your back, urging you forward until you’re both on the couch, almost touching. 

“You’re freaking me out with how quiet you are.”

You don’t mean to. It’s the one time in your life that you don’t know what to say. Still, you try.

“I talked to Robin and Eddie earlier.”

“The gruesome twosome,” Steve mutters. “They didn’t upset you or anything, did they?” Lord knows when they got together, especially alone, they could be a lot.

Not that he was complaining. Sure, they were a handful, but so were you and Dustin and the rest of the kids. He found himself in more trouble than ever and his blood pressure had certainly risen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After years of shitty friends and sycophants, he considered himself lucky to have a group of people who genuinely care for him.

None of that stopped him from worrying about what they could have done, though.

“No, no, nothing like that,” you answer quickly, assuaging his concerns. “I’ve just been thinking about what they said.”

“Uh oh, what was it?”

“This is totally crazy, but they think there’s something going on with us.” You expect Steve to laugh but he doesn’t. His cheeks flush and he looks away but he doesn’t seem to find it humorous. 

“They’re too nosey for their own good.” He shaves his head. “If they made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” you assure him. “I guess I just worried about things getting weird with us or, God forbid, the group.”

“Nothing will ever make things weird with us, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“The thing is... I don’t want anything to change either.” And you really don’t. “I, uh, I really like whatever we’re doing. Maybe too much?” It comes out like a question but it isn’t—it’s just the truth.

“I do too.”

There’s electricity in the air, a good tension.

“I always have,” Steve adds, emboldened by the disclosure. “I know we—I— joked around a lot but I think there always was some truth there.” He reaches over, grabbing ahold of your hand. “Then that night with my parents... which really was a favor, by the way. I didn’t have any gross ulterior motive.”

You squeeze his hand, not needing the assurance. You didn’t know a better human being; there was never a doubt about his intentions. “I know, Steve.”

“It was kinda the same, you know? You were still ridiculously pretty and I got to call you all those cutesy little names you love to hate. But it also felt serious. Like, it wasn’t real but it felt like it was.”

“I get what you mean,” you agree. “It just felt natural. I didn’t really want it to end.” 

“What if it didn’t have to?” Steve pauses for a moment, considering his words. “What if we tried it for real this time?”

You smile—big, bright, genuine—and Steve’s brain practically short circuits. “Are you asking me on an actual date?”

“I sure am.”

You can’t help yourself, the confirmation makes you giggle. He looks alarmed and you cover your face. “Hey,” he says, hands gently wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hands back down. “What’s so funny?”

“Robin is going to hate this.”

That gets him to laugh too. “God, you’re right. Especially when we tell her it’s all her fault.” 

“If only she kept her mouth shut,” you agree, your shoulder bumping against his.

“But thank God she didn’t.” Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I might have to send her a fruit basket or something.”

—

[fanfic-scribbles]

Marry Me Three

Sequel to: Marry Me 2 - Boyfriend’s Back (All Right)

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Marriage is stupidly limited. That’s okay– you’ve never found a box that could fit you anyway.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader/Bucky Barnes – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, marriage talk, a little fade-to-black sexy times

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 3170

A/N: At last, the end of the ‘Marry Me’ saga. Please enjoy a bunch of goofballs <3

~

Bucky is brooding.

This isn’t so different from usual, but what is unusual is that none of your distraction tactics are working. The lovey-dovey stuff gets a little kiss before he’s back to stewing in his own head, the funny stuff gets a half-hearted smile before he once again becomes the protagonist of a Russian tragedy, (it is ridiculous that he is not actually Russian, honestly, even Natasha has commented that she feels lacking next to him), and your last-ditch attempts to be annoying get a scowl and some muttered curses before he turns away and does his best gargoyle impression.

Some research is required.

“Is there a reason you’ve started walking around with a notepad and pen and staring at Bucky?” Steve asks, like for all he knows the answer could very well be ‘no.’

“I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with him,” you say. “So I’m taking notes and observations so I can put them together later.”

“Ah.” He sips his coffee and stares at you. “That explains the new corkboard. No string?”

“I had to order it. They were out of red,” you admit. “It’s coming with the safari hat.”

He stares at you. “Why safari instead of a deerstalker?”

“The safari ones looked nicer and shipped faster,” you say. “If the binoculars weren’t more annoying than they’re worth I’d be using them too. Maybe if I’m annoying enough I can actually get him to talk about his fucking feelings rather than keep shutting me out.”

Steve pulls you into a hug and kisses your head. “I’ll try and talk to him,” he says and rubs your shoulder. As he pulls away, he says, “No smoking pipes.”

You hadn’t been thinking about that since your Sherlock Holmes cosplay abruptly stopped with the lack of nice hats available with fast shipping, but now that he’s said no you can’t resist the siren song of pushing boundaries. “Not even a bubble one?”

Steve shoots you a glare and wanders off.

Well, if Steve succeeds, hopefully you’ll be able to find another use for the safari hat. But until he pulls through you will continue to observe Boyfriendicus Moodicus and hope a solution presents itself.

~

Nothing magically happens to make things better. Bucky’s still sullen, but he’s sullen with a guilty edge when he comes up one day and hugs you from behind. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk,” he says and presses a little kiss to your head.

“You’re not a jerk,” you say and put your hands over his as Steve watches with a look of concern himself. The talk didn’t go so well, apparently, but at least someone else is on the lookout now. “But I know you’re upset and I wish you’d tell me why. Or Steve. Or an imaginary friend. Somebody.”

“I, uh…” He nuzzles you, preying on your weakness. Bastard. You hope he keeps it up. “I don’t know how to say it,” he admits. “It’s something in my own head, and I don’t know how to…say it right. So I wanna wait.”

“But you will?” you ask and he nods. “Fine,” you say uncertainly. “If it takes too long though I’m getting a little hand puppet, okay?”

Even the thought makes him look annoyed, which is exactly what you were hoping for. They know better than to test you on your most ridiculous ideas, and you make a few open and shut motions with your hand to drive the point home. But something about how Bucky looks at your hand catches your attention. There’s a brief burst of longing and what is he even looking a–

Oh.

Oh!

The ring.

~

Over the next week you take your Bucky Studies very seriously. He said he can’t verbalize it and you believe that– Steve has his moments but Bucky has an especially hard time talking about what he wants and what he feels, (and when you think about the why you end up clinging to him like a koala which is not ideal for observation but is great for very distracting kisses), so you don’t try to push him. The safari hat goes mostly unused, alas, but you do pick up on a few things:

A) Bucky doesn’t just give sad longing looks at your ring, but at Steve’s too;

B) If you and Steve are already fooling around, Bucky is a lot more hesitant about joining in than he was when you all started your, ahem, group activities;

C) A and B are very often paired together– and while A can happen during even just the mundanity of the day, B will always have that look of envy;

and A point 2 C B or whatever) The envious look at your rings is almost always followed by a flash of annoyance. And not at you– you’ve gotten very, very good at reading your partners’ looks of annoyance, (you even have a handy card catalogue you reference sometimes to make them very annoyed at you), but seemingly at himself.

It’s sort of remarkable that you can see all this, because while you’re more observant than people sometimes give you credit for, it’s still something special to be able to observe Bucky without having him call you on it once or twice. It’s nice that he’s so comfortable around you. But it’s not nice that this issue– whatever he can’t verbalize– is eating him away so much that he lets it show for all and sundry.

Still, now you have some data. It’s time to try and formulate some solutions.

~

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah doll?”

“Would it make you feel better if Steve and I got divorced?”

Bucky chokes on his drink. Steve, to his credit, merely stops cutting his food and looks up at you past slightly raised brows. You think it’s nice that he understands what you meant. Or maybe he doesn’t understand and he’s just used to your nonsense. If you’re being honest, it’s probably more the latter, but it’s still nice to have your general person so well understood that Steve can hear that and not worry.

“Wh-…” Bucky pauses to take another drink that actually makes it down his throat. “Sweetheart, why would I want that?”

“It’s just a thought,” you say. “Because Steve and I love each other whether we’re together in the eyes of the law or not. Just like we love you.” You have to hurry up when he opens his mouth. “And I know you know we don’t love you any less, but knowing and feeling are two different things and we all have doubts.”

“I don’t doubt,” Bucky says quickly. “But…you’re sort of right. It’s just something I have to deal with.” He takes your hand and tugs you in for a little hug that you both have to lean out of your chairs for. “I don’t want you and Steve to get divorced. I like that you two are married. Also, it’d be a huge pain in the ass and pro’ly wouldn’t do much.”

“Okay.” You kiss his head and lean back. Back to the drawing board. Luckily the drawing board still has some sketches on it. “It’s okay Bucky, I’ve got another idea.”

Both Bucky and Steve are suddenly distracted by ringing phones. You sigh but pull yourself together as they jump up. While they get ready, you shove their dinners into containers so they can at least have a little something on their way to save the world.

“I know it sounded bad, but you get what I meant, right?” you ask Steve in between kissing him goodbye. Multiple times, of course.

“I know. And I agree.” He smiles and kisses you one more time before letting Bucky in.

You make sure to give Bucky just as much physical love as you did Steve, but he’s looking at you cautiously. Still, he kisses you, and says, “Don’t do anything before we get home and talk about your ‘idea,’ okay?”

“Have a lovely day at work; be safe!” you say cheerfully. Bucky is about to open his mouth but you are, strangely, saved by yet more ringing from his phone, and the sounds of tires screeching outside. He rolls his eyes and runs out with Steve, not even pausing when he mouths, ‘We’ll talk later.’

You shut the door and turn back to your empty home. You allow yourself a moment of self-pity before you make a fist and hit it to your palm. This is actually perfect– an opportunity to put your plan into action without any super-significant-other meddling. You are going to get right to it–

–your stomach grumbles–

–after dinner.

~

They come back in two days, so it’s a good thing you decided not to procrastinate on your Secret Plan. The mission was quick and neither of them are injured, but they are obviously exhausted, so you cajole them into taking a nap. Steve is tired enough he does as he’s told, dragging a slightly more suspicious Bucky with him. But Bucky is just as tired, so you blow them both a kiss and, once the door is shut and you hear no more moving, you rush to your little box of supplies and start setting everything up.

When they come out for dinner the candles are all set, the food is almost ready, and your two super soldiers take a moment to fully wake up from their nap and appreciate the nice romantic table you’ve put together.

Steve clears his throat and leans in to straighten one of the candles that had tilted maybe a little worryingly to the side. “Oh, oops; good catch,” you say and put down their two plates. “Steve, come be helpful and grab the wine glasses.”

“Really going all out to welcome us home,” Bucky says, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Yeah sure, that’s what it is,” you say, smiling too hard to sell it, and you all but drag Steve into the kitchen where you promptly shove a little box into his hand, and mouth, ‘Wait.’

His eyes light up, but he grins too and nods, and takes the wine glasses and the bottle out to the table while you grab the last plate and go to take your seat. Bucky looks even more suspicious, definitely not helped by how Steve is the absolute worst at keeping a straight face, but you ignore your husband in favor of the modest but still delicious meal you made. “You’re probably starving.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says warily, not even attempting to grab his fork. “Don’t take this the wrong way but– what are you up to?”

You don’t answer, and instead take a bite. In all honestly though it’s hard to focus on the food– you’re very excited for this, and when Bucky keeps staring at you, you think…fuck it. It’s time to put him at ease, one way or another.

So you stand up, walk over to him, get down on one knee, pull out the box, and open it. “Bucky,” you say. “We can’t get married before God and law but…fuck ‘em. I love you just as much as I love Steve and if this is only legit to us then that’s all that matters. So, James Buchanan Barnes, second love of my life but not the secondary love of my life, will you marry me according to the law of this house– coincidentally my law– and be my top-secret husband?”

Bucky considers you with a serious face that looks close to cracking. “Will you promise to unassign “Secret Agent Man” as my theme song?”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “But when I sing it the lyrics will be changed to reflect your new status as ‘secret husband man.’”

Steve breaks, laughing and leaning on the table for support. Bucky even cracks a smile, but you try to stay neutral, to let him know you’re (mostly) serious. His eyes soften like he knows. Of course he knows– he knows you just like Steve does, by now. “Well how can I resist an offer like that?” he asks and holds out his hand for you to put on the ring.

You try to take your time, so that Steve can get over his sudden burst of amusement, but he’s still chuckling when you take your seat again. You take your wine glass and give Bucky a sympathetic look. “I wish I could tell you Steve’s proposal to me was more romantic, but it really wasn’t.”

Steve stops laughing then. “Hey…you aren’t seriously going to tell that story to everyone are you?”

You take a moment to consider. “Well, I guess orgasms can be romantic.”

Steve hides his head and Bucky laughs loudly. “Stevie you fucking cheat,” Bucky says with a wide grin and admiration in his voice.

“That wasn’t the real proposal!” Steve insists. “The real proposal was the next morning. That was…”

“Steve being unable to keep a secret to save his life,” you supplement. Steve opens his mouth and you wave him silent. “Yeah, yeah; you can work on Bucky’s proposal later. For now, eat. I worked hard on this.”

“I’ll take the orgasm proposal,” Bucky says but takes his own utensils in hand. “Is that a special I can order?”

Steve mutters under his breath and attacks his meal like it’s going to run away.  You roll your eyes but get to your food. “Dinner first, then honeymoon.” You take a bite and chew for a few seconds before you swallow and add. “And then cake.”

“The only surprise about this, is that cake is coming last,” Bucky says in amusement and follows suit.

There are so many responses to that. You, a true Hero, refrain in order to at least get through dinner and to the fun stuff without your husband and husband-to-be chucking you out of a window.

~

You get chucked onto the bed, which is way more fun and makes you laugh as Bucky grins and crawls over you in a way that should be slightly terrifying but is honestly just fucking hot, so that when he’s close enough you grab him by the shirt collar and drag him in for a kiss.

“That never gets old,” Steve murmurs, his mouth quirked in amusement as he settles in next to both of you, but his eyes are intense as he, seemingly content, watches for now. As you break for air, Bucky takes the opportunity to grab the back of Steve’s head and move in for a kiss just as hungry as the one he just gave you.

“It really, really doesn’t,” you say and lick your lips. Bucky’s attention is drawing back to you, as is Steve’s. You pull the shoulder of your shirt aside to show your bra strap and wink at Steve. His eyes go pleasantly wide.

“So we’re really doing the honeymoon, huh?” he asks, a full grin spreading across his face. Bucky looks confused, but intrigued.

“The dress is in no shape to participate, but the rest of it is fine,” you say.

“What’s this?” Bucky asks as you sit up and wrap your arms around him. Mostly to stay up– your core strength is nonexistent.

“Go on Bucky,” Steve says, laying on his side and unbuttoning his pants with one hand. “Make your wife more comfortable.”

Bucky’s eyes shine so bright looking at you that you elect to watch his hands as he starts pulling your shirt up, alternately grazing and dragging his fingers across your skin. “Don’t worry,” you say, lips turned into an expression that feels appropriately devilish. “Your husband won’t keep his hands to himself for long.”

True to form, Steve doesn’t, and soon the three of you are a tangle of limbs and love.

~

When all is said and done, you’re all in a contented pile.

Except there's one thing missing. You clear your throat. Bucky looks, but Steve doesn’t. You clear your throat again, and this time Steve lifts his head.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” you say and look at Bucky’s one-ring hand and at Steve and at the hand and at Steve and at the hand and at–

“Yeah, what the hell; I thought this was a two-spouse minimum household,” Bucky says. “How am I gonna meet my quota if you hold back on me, Rogers?”

Steve rolls his eyes and flops his hand back on the nightstand which, to you, looks suspiciously empty. “Are you sure, Buck? She’s like a five-in-one special.”

“Nice try,” Bucky says and watches Steve fumble uselessly for a nice ring that isn’t there. “I’ve been putting up with you too long to let you get outta making an honest man of me.”

Steve turns to look and sees the ring isn’t there. You glare at him but he puts his finger up while the loading widget in his brain circles– and then he digs around under his pillow. Bucky waits. You wait. Steve then pulls up his pillows and shoves his arm down the crack between the headboard and the mattress. Bucky shakes with quiet laughter and you gape. “I swear to God if you break my ring, Steven Grant Rogers…”

“The only way it’s getting broken is if it came out of a box of Cracker-Jacks,” he mutters and fishes for it.

“I thought of that but the only Cracker-Jacks I could find had stickers,” you say, not intending to admit to the five different stores you went to and examined thoroughly. You wouldn’t say you’re banned from any of them, but maybe it’s best not to go back to that Wegman’s anymore. At least, not during the night manager’s shift.

Steve stops and looks at you. “Seriously?”

“I thought it would be cute!” You cock your head at him. “Also how long have you known me that you’re still asking that?”

He grins and leans over to give you a kiss– and then props himself up on one arm as he gives Bucky a sweet smile, holding up the (slightly dusty) box. “Hey jerk.”

Bucky snorts. “Hey punk.”

Steve breaks out the soulful eyes and opens the box. “Marry me?”

You snicker to yourself and Bucky sighs as though put upon, but he holds out his hand and Steve slides the ring on. Right on top of yours. “Knew I was stuck with you when you tried to shove me and ended up right on your ass,” he says and kisses Steve. “Yes.”

~

The next morning you put down the silverware, stick Cracker-Jack stickers on their cheeks, and you all go on in your lives– as husband, husband, and wife.

~The End~

~Omake~

“Wait.” Bucky looks at the rings, then at you. “How did you get my measurements?”

You smile sweetly.

Steve stares at you, and sighs. “Did you have Natasha break in again?”

“No.” They stare at you. “Really!” More staring. “…Maybe.” They glare at you. “It’s Russian Spy Enrichment!” You throw up your hands. “God forbid I help out my friends.”

Both of them groan. It’s okay– as far as you’re concerned, they’re stuck with you.

~ The End (for real!)~

[citrus-soju]

𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

✧ He does not "date". He never has, and never will, unless it's part of a grand scheme. There has never been a person in his life who meant anything to him – besides his brother – and he can't bring himself to view other human beings as anything else but animals. Food. Objects even. Maybe it would be different if he had ever experienced real romantic feelings towards another person, or if he had been raised in a safe environment. There have been times in his youth, particularly his teenage years, where he wished to fall in love. But he very quickly understood that he was simply not able to view other human beings as anything but beneath him. Now, several decades later, it seems too late to even start thinking about it again.

✧ If he ever dated someone, it would be to gain something out of it. Either he'd use that person to get close to a target, or he'd take on a false identity and date somebody to keep up the appearance. It wouldn't be a good experience for him, though. It would be more like he's doing an unpleasant part of his job. He'd silently do whatever his partner wished for, without a hint of emotion on his face, in an attempt to keep things as calm as possible and to steer any attention away from him. Ironically, that makes him a surprisingly good partner, since he helps in the household unprompted, doesn't pick fights, and even helps with the cooking if needed.

✧ Everything is fine, as long as it's just to keep up the appearance. But as soon as his "partner" wants to touch him, kiss him, cuddle or anything like this, he reacts very negatively to it. He verbally turns them down, once, maybe twice. The third time, he grabs their wrist and pushes them away. And the fourth time, they might lose some fingers so they can never touch him against his will again. Respect his boundaries and you're good to go. He will eventually start doing these things all by himself if you give him lots of time and lots of space. The less you question or push him, the more interesting you become to him.

✧ He will reach a point where he becomes concerned when you're not home at the usual time. He will notice when you don't eat your food, and when you don't try to join him in bed. Though he doesn't confront you or anything, he keeps a close eye on you, just to make sure he's still doing the right things. He memorized everything you want from him at this point, and he's basically a flawless partner - except for the lack of actual warmth between you. He gives you half hearted compliments. Brings flowers and snacks. He buys you anything you ask for. But it's all part of the job. Or is it? What's that weird feeling in his chest when you smile at him?

✧ Every once in a while, he loses control over his urges. He needs to kill. He can't go for too long without it. Either he does an amazing job at hiding it for a long time and someday disappears without a trace, or you end up dead one day when you discover his identity. If only it could be different. At some point, he'd start tolerating your touch. Tolerating your gentleness. He would never actually enjoy it without a large amount of discomfort and anxiety in his chest. But you'd get closer to his heart than anyone else ever has. So close that losing you would hurt him.

[collinnmckinley]

(TW: discussion of kink)

Man that was uh...wtf was that anon.

I think when it comes down to the bottom line regardless of how anyone feels about what your saying (I agree with you) you allowed to say your opinion.

I'm a firm believer of 'dont like don't read' and that you shouldn't comment negatively on someones work unless they ask for it. For fanfiction online is supposed to be simply shared. You haven't tagged (from what I've seen) anything in any of the x reader tags, you haven't gone on to other people's posts and complained, you havent blazed anything, you haven't named/shamed any blogs by name. None of what your saying is truly oppressive or bigotry. You have simply vented in the safety of your own posts. For someone to get mad about that? They have no real right. It's not fair. It's so entitled, if you can't vent here then where can you?

In terms of your argument, as someone who is more into kinks, even enjoying the odd CNC piece, I believe your totally right in what you say and the way your feeling is so reasonable.

The COD fandom wouldn't last a day in the real world. What fustrates me with all this fanficiton is not only is it out of character but everything's written and encouraging bad BDSM behaviour. Like NO ONE does BDSM like this.

There's no discussion of boundaries, theres no aftercare description, there's no love and care in these fics. BDSM is supposed to be a performance, it's ultimately light hearted and supposed to be enjoyable to both parties. It's playing around with your partner because that's what sex is supposed to be, fun.

The shit these people right is so obviously not right. It's directly the shit you see in high production porn, something that is always made to look good. Not to feel good. This stuff is all just normalised toxic and unhealthy relationships. What concerns me is with the forever younger generations, if this is the normality then what will they be like in an actual relationship? It effects their every day interactions too! Blatenly calling people daddy / mommy in mid day- that whole 'mommy- sorry- mommy- sorry...' tiktok trend is a perfect example of it. That shits embarrassing! It's uncomfortable and removes the whole part of 'concent' in the entirety of kink.

Forgive me that I go a little off topic but I firmly believe that this behaviour is part of a bigger picture. It shows the fandom interactions that dictate day to day life. The way that people talk to the actors, interact with the actors and voice actors in the game shows how fucked up this all is. There's no line between fan and artist. When it came to fanfiction in history there's always been that line. The shame, fear even, that always kept fandom seperate. Sure sometimes people would say what pairing or sexuality to the creator but nothing like we have today. For them to literally have to turn off chat because of what people are saying in a live stream is terrible! And I think it is directly linked to how normal and casual people online have become about these sort of things.

In terms of wanting to be degraded and CNC the entire thing is supposed to fantasy created in a safe environment. Sometimes it's not exactly something that someone can explain why, or go into the whole situation of mixing pain / pleasure. Yet people have lost that integral piece of the puzzle. It's fustrating and you don't have sex like that every single time?? They treat the most hardcore shit as your average Tuesday missing the preparation and communication that goes on.

To be honest, I'm probably one of the writers in the r6s that you dislike, I can't say I believe that I write either COD or R6S fully in character, even so, I can't imagie looking at COD characters and reducing them to this lack of safety careless playthings. People look a Price and, well, you can never tell someone sexual preferences but, they look at him and are like 'ah yes this man would have no regards to ones sexual safety' like ?????

When hes about to torture the butcher he makes is to clear for not only Gaz's boundaries but for Nik's aswell. No strings attached, their word is final and it's something I really appreciated as a player as well.

This man is constantly in danger having to deal with violence and torture and then people exspect him to come home and do what? The same thing on his partner? I can't imagine it, I genuinely don't think this man could stomach hurting his partner even in a safe BDSM way. It's the same with all these men in the military, why would they want to bring that home?

I'm not into König but I have played as him on the odd occasion in game and you can sort of get a feel for his personality. The shit people write about him is so incredibly out of character even with how little is defined by him. This man is the most nerdy character in the game. He so gives off the vibes that he's a massive gremlin with his voice lines and people look at that and are like 'ah yes he would treat me bad' Pardon me? He would have a fucking mental breakdown if he hurt his s/o.

Even Graves, the bastard he is, wouldn't do any of this shit. Sure he betrayed 141 but you can still tell he cares about his team, one of the things that makes him and the shadows such a compelling and enjoyable antagonist, is that he feels so human and realistic. When he starts to lose it and shout at them in Las Almas, you can tell he regrets it. You can tell in his voice that he's trying to keep it together and stay as that fun casual commander thing he has going on.

Admittedly I've used him for plot before but the people who hardcore simp for this man, how could you look at someone like that and thing he would rule the bedroom with an iron fist? The man who gets his employees to say 'yup-yup' instead of affirmative.

As someone who does write and does strive to make people as in character as possible, (admittedly with varing results) I just don't understand how people can go so far fetched. Whenever I've been given an prompt or whatever I'm constantly looking at intrections and lore that back up characters. A lot of stuff so many characters just wouldn't do. Daddy kink is the bane of my existence. Not because I don't enjoy it but because people assign it to everyone and in all honesty? Ive literally never met a man who's into it. Same with mommy.

In terms of characters across all the games I've played I think there's like maybe one character who I genuinely thought might be into it and that was Pagan Min from Farcry 4. Maybe Damon Salvatore from the Vampire Diaries.

Yeah you can never tell someones sexual preferences or what they do in the bedroom but you can at least try. Have lore or reasoning to back up your reasoning. Not this cluster fuck of general unhealthy, unrealistic glorified BDSM. It baffles me that people think that these characters would be even remotely comfortable with some of the stuff people wrote them to do.

What's the point of simping over a character if you're not actually wanting to be with the character?

At the bottom line, tiktok (and modern internet in general (it wasn't this bad until tiktok but it has been getting worse over the years)) has shown a bunch of adolescent people pictures of the COD characters. With the easy access and desensitization of kink this has created the effect we have today. I don't actually think any of the people who write this shit actually care about the characters. Their playing with the characters like dolls. A name and a face to an oc personality they have created in their head. Or even just taking tropes of people and applying them.

Your fustration is responsible and the way your expressing it is responsible aswell. This is your space. Your not hurting anyone, in fact your ability to recognise and create commentary on today's fandom scene is a positive rather than a negative.

Welp, there it is. You read it again. I dont think I actually need to say anything or reply to it. Everything has already been said in this ask can actually convey what I have been trying to say the past two days, what we have been trying to discuss the past two days. detailed and well put like a thread. I'm gonna tag COD so people can actually read and educate themselves about this matter and that it should not be taken lightly.

[mariacallous]

In late 2022, historian and Foreign Policy columnist Adam Tooze captured the zeitgeist when he wrote that the world is in the midst of a “polycrisis”—a time when “the shocks are disparate, but they interact so that the whole is even more overwhelming than the sum of the parts.”

History is littered with such periods. Some we remember because they preceded revolutionary change. Others are less well known because revolutionary change did not occur, even if those who lived through them experienced great upheaval; these periods, to paraphrase the British historian G.M. Trevelyan, are turning points at which history fails to turn.

1848—the year to which Trevelyan was referring—is one such failed turning point. Although that year saw political tumult across Europe, it does not receive as much attention as junctures such as 1789 or 1945. Yet as historian Christopher Clark’s magisterial Revolutionary Spring: Europe Aflame and the Fight for a New World, 1848-1849 makes clear, the long-term consequences of that year were profound.

His book serves as a reminder that if we want to understand why some periods of (poly)crisis lead to change, while others do not, it is every bit as important to closely examine the periods when history fails to turn.

Revolutionary Spring is a history lover’s history book—832 pages (including footnotes) full of details that illuminate the long-term trends that made revolution possible.

The first of these trends was economic development. In the decades preceding 1848, industrialization transformed Europe. Yet the benefits of economic growth were unevenly distributed, and those who benefited least from it lacked basic political rights. Artisans, craftsmen, and shopkeepers saw their status and incomes decline. The poor and workers suffered, as living conditions in new cities were abominable and working conditions despotic. Peasants, by far the largest group in European societies, came under immense strain: Commercial farming encouraged the enclosure and privatization of the common lands that they depended on; they did not have access to the new farming techniques and technology used by large farmers; and, especially in Eastern Europe, many nobles retained feudal privileges.

On its own, lower-class discontent is not enough to lead to revolution. As Clark writes, poverty is “more likely to render people ‘speechless’ and inactive than to drive them to concerted action.” If there were a direct link between suffering and revolution, the places where material conditions were the worst would have seen the greatest uprisings in 1848—but that did not happen.

Instead, Clark argues, revolution is more often the result of broad, cross-class discontent with the reigning order. And this began to emerge in the run-up to 1848. Although the European middle class was relatively small, economic development was increasing its size and wealth. Middle-class discontent stemmed less from economic concerns than political and social ones. At its top levels, businessmen and financiers were amassing fortunes that rivaled those of landed elites. Meanwhile, growing numbers of professionals, merchants, and white-collar workers were becoming more prosperous, educated, and informed. However, in much of Europe, members of these groups lacked the right to vote and were excluded from prestigious government and social positions.

Growing nationalism also fed widespread discontent. This was particularly disruptive in the empires of Central and Eastern Europe, where state boundaries did not coincide with ethnic, religious, and linguistic ones. Demands for autonomy, or even independence, in those places—most notably in present-day Hungary, but also in the lands that would become Czechoslovakia and among various Slavic peoples—threatened dramatic changes to the status quo.

By the 1840s, there was a sense across Europe that the “political horizon was dark,” as Clark describes the observations of one Belgian radical, and that “[n]either nations nor governments knew where they were going.” But even with the polycrisis created by long-term developments, revolution was still not inevitable. As Clark writes, revolutions emerge in two phases: gradually and then suddenly. In the case of 1848, two major triggers finally sparked revolution.

The first was economic crisis. Beginning in 1845, a series of bad harvests hit Europe. The failure of the potato crop across much of Europe was particularly devastating, and these crop failures were accompanied by an economic recession and financial panic. Together, these brought food shortages and even famine to some places, worst of all in Ireland.

The second trigger came in February 1848, when French workers as well as members of the middle class rose up in revolt against an increasingly autocratic king, Louis Philippe, and his prime minister, François Guizot. This led to the collapse of the reigning July Monarchy and the subsequent formation of the Second French Republic. As Klemens von Metternich, then-chancellor of the Austrian Empire, famously noted a decade earlier, “when France sneezes, Europe catches a cold.”

Despite the lack of social media, television, radio, or even widespread literacy, within weeks of the February revolution, massive uprisings broke out across Europe. Regimes that had seemed secure fell or were forced to make concessions that had hitherto been unimaginable. As Clark writes, “upheaval spread like a brush fire across the continent, leaping from city to city.” Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Munich, Milan, Venice, and other European cities all experienced what to contemporaries, at least, seemed to be the beginnings of revolution.

Contemporaries were overwhelmed and overjoyed. One German radical wrote, “I had to go out into the winter cold and walk and walk until I had worn myself out just to calm my blood and slow down the beating of my heart, which was in a state of unprecedented and baffled agitation and felt as if it were about to blow a hole in my chest.”

Yet within 18 months, monarchical dictatorships returned to all the areas of Europe that they had been driven out of in the spring of 1848.

As Revolutionary Spring makes clear, perhaps the most important reason for Europe’s failure to turn was the weakness of opposition movements. These movements were united by a desire to get rid of the old order but lacked any consensus on how to build a new one. Almost as soon as the old order collapsed, deep divisions within opposition movements came to the fore.

Members of the middle class generally wanted a liberal order, but not a fully democratic one, to replace the old one. They sought a political order they could participate in—and that did not grant the nobility special privileges—but they also rejected workers’ demands for universal suffrage and significant economic and social reforms. Peasants were less interested in political reform than in protecting their property or securing it via the abolition of feudal privileges and landholding in places where they still existed, including much of Eastern Europe.

Influenced by the memory of the 18th-century French Revolution, monarchs rapidly gave in to the more moderate demands in 1848—for example, by agreeing to establish constitutions and eliminate many feudal privileges—and thereby largely satisfied liberals and the peasantry. These changes did not, however, appease workers and radicals. These groups continued to riot and organize in an attempt to secure not only full democratization, but also significant economic and social reforms, such as minimum wages, price controls, and the right to work.

These demands, along with the emergence of the working class as a political actor, are the reason that scholars consider 1848 to be the birthdate of the modern socialist movement. It was in 1848, of course, that Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels’ The Communist Manifesto was published with its famous first line: “A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism.”

The demands of the working class and radicals frightened liberals and much of the middle class. By the summer of 1848, Clark writes, liberals had a deep fear of the “lower orders” and “subaltern violence,” and they “saw themselves locked in a zero-sum conflict with an enemy that represented the absolute negation of the social order.” This fear, he writes, “paralysed the revolution in its later stages” and drove liberals back into the arms of conservatives.

Nationalist disputes also weakened opposition movements. In the Austrian Empire, various ethnic and linguistic groups that had been united in opposition to the old order began fighting among themselves. Germans and Czechs clashed over their relationship to each other and the emerging movement for German unity. Soon after the emperor granted Hungary significant autonomy, conflict broke out between the country’s dominant Magyars and its other groups, since the Magyars were unwilling to provide them with greater autonomy. Poles also dismissed the demands of minorities. (As Clark cleverly puts it, “like many Nationalists, the Poles were primordialists when it came to their own nation and constructivists when it came to the claims of others to the same terrain.”) And attempts by Slavic groups to demand rights and autonomy were met with fury by Germans and Hungarians who viewed them as “a sinister conspiratorial operation to prepare the ground for a Russian pan-Slavist hegemony in Eastern Europe.”

Across Europe, political, socioeconomic, and national conflicts ripped apart opposition movements, enabling counterrevolutions that rolled back the revolutionary wave of 1848. By the early 1850s, monarchs and conservatives were back in power—and aspirations of national autonomy in Central and Eastern Europe, as well as hopes for Italian and German unification, were crushed.

Yet the Europe that emerged from the ashes of 1848 was not the same Europe that existed before. Some reforms instituted that year were not repealed—notably, the abolition of serfdom and other feudal privileges, including the right to collect dues, avoid certain taxes, and monopolize some political and military offices in Austria, Prussia, and other lands in central and southeastern Europe.

This marked the beginning of the end of the politics of tradition and a society of orders and eliminated major hindrances to capitalist development in parts of Europe. The end of the nobility’s privileges gradually enabled members of the emerging middle classes and wealthy businessmen to hold positions of power in government and the military. It also enabled the expansion of land ownership, as peasants gained access to private property and control over the goods that they produced for the first time.

The monarchs, dictators, and conservatives who returned to power after 1848 understood that if they wanted to avoid another conflagration, they would have to rule differently. Most of them accepted that a constitutional rather than absolutist monarchy was the wave of the future. King Friedrich Wilhelm IV made Prussia a constitutional state that year (though a much less liberal one than revolutionaries had proposed). Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph soon began a cautious reform program, and in 1860, he agreed to form a constitution and parliament. In France, monarchy disappeared forever—and though it was not democratic, Napoleon III’s regime rested at least in part on popular consent.

1848 was also the first time that some parts of Europe experienced popular mobilization, an open public sphere, parliaments, and elections, as well as freedom of the press, assembly, and association. Many of the political organizations, civil society associations, and publications that were established that year remained in the decades to come.

The problems and grievances that caused Europe to explode in 1848 would continue to propel European politics in the years that followed. These included the struggle between monarchy and democracy; the working class’s fight for political, social, and economic change; and the tensions that drove desires to reorganize existing states, such as the Austrian Empire, and form new ones, such as Italy and Germany.

Over time, the painful process of addressing these issues would indeed revolutionize Europe, leading to two world wars and political turmoil during the interwar years—but also eventually to the spread of democracy, the formation of welfare states, the collapse of empires, and the emergence of new nation-states. Although revolutions may seem to happen all at once, 1848 proved that their consequences may only gradually appear.

[lesmisscraper]

The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being even to God, that is love.

Love is the salutation of the angels to the stars.

How sad is the soul, when it is sad through love!

What a void in the absence of the being who, by herself alone fills the world! Oh! how true it is that the beloved being becomes God. One could comprehend that God might be jealous of this had not God the Father of all evidently made creation for the soul, and the soul for love.

The glimpse of a smile beneath a white crape bonnet with a lilac curtain is sufficient to cause the soul to enter into the palace of dreams.

God is behind everything, but everything hides God. Things are black, creatures are opaque. To love a being is to render that being transparent.

Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body may be, the soul is on its knees.

Parted lovers beguile absence by a thousand chimerical devices, which possess, however, a reality of their own. They are prevented from seeing each other, they cannot write to each other; they discover a multitude of mysterious means to correspond. They send each other the song of the birds, the perfume of the flowers, the smiles of children, the light of the sun, the sighings of the breeze, the rays of stars, all creation. And why not? All the works of God are made to serve love. Love is sufficiently potent to charge all nature with its messages.

Oh Spring! Thou art a letter that I write to her.

The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite.

Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven.

Oh Love! Adorations! voluptuousness of two minds which understand each other, of two hearts which exchange with each other, of two glances which penetrate each other! You will come to me, will you not, bliss! strolls by twos in the solitudes! Blessed and radiant days! I have sometimes dreamed that from time to time hours detached themselves from the lives of the angels and came here below to traverse the destinies of men.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love, except to give them endless duration. After a life of love, an eternity of love is, in fact, an augmentation; but to increase in intensity even the ineffable felicity which love bestows on the soul even in this world, is impossible, even to God. God is the plenitude of heaven; love is the plenitude of man.

You look at a star for two reasons, because it is luminous, and because it is impenetrable. You have beside you a sweeter radiance and a greater mystery, woman.

All of us, whoever we may be, have our respirable beings. We lack air and we stifle. Then we die. To die for lack of love is horrible. Suffocation of the soul.

When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.

On the day when a woman as she passes before you emits light as she walks, you are lost, you love. But one thing remains for you to do: to think of her so intently that she is constrained to think of you.

What love commences can be finished by God alone.

True love is in despair and is enchanted over a glove lost or a handkerchief found, and eternity is required for its devotion and its hopes. It is composed both of the infinitely great and the infinitely little.

If you are a stone, be adamant; if you are a plant, be the sensitive plant; if you are a man, be love.

Nothing suffices for love. We have happiness, we desire paradise; we possess paradise, we desire heaven.

Oh ye who love each other, all this is contained in love. Understand how to find it there. Love has contemplation as well as heaven, and more than heaven, it has voluptuousness.

"Does she still come to the Luxembourg?" "No, sir." "This is the church where she attends mass, is it not?" "She no longer comes here." "Does she still live in this house?" "She has moved away." "Where has she gone to dwell?"

"She did not say."

What a melancholy thing not to know the address of one's soul!

Love has its childishness, other passions have their pettinesses. Shame on the passions which belittle man! Honor to the one which makes a child of him!

There is one strange thing, do you know it? I dwell in the night. There is a being who carried off my sky when she went away.

Oh! would that we were lying side by side in the same grave, hand in hand, and from time to time, in the darkness, gently caressing a finger,--that would suffice for my eternity!

Ye who suffer because ye love, love yet more. To die of love, is to live in it.

Love. A sombre and starry transfiguration is mingled with this torture. There is ecstasy in agony.

Oh joy of the birds! It is because they have nests that they sing.

Love is a celestial respiration of the air of paradise.

Deep hearts, sage minds, take life as God has made it; it is a long trial, an incomprehensible preparation for an unknown destiny. This destiny, the true one, begins for a man with the first step inside the tomb. Then something appears to him, and he begins to distinguish the definitive. The definitive, meditate upon that word. The living perceive the infinite; the definitive permits itself to be seen only by the dead. In the meanwhile, love and suffer, hope and contemplate. Woe, alas! to him who shall have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will deprive him of all. Try to love souls, you will find them again.

I encountered in the street, a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat was worn, his elbows were in holes; water trickled through his shoes, and the stars through his soul.

What a grand thing it is to be loved! What a far grander thing it is to love! The heart becomes heroic, by dint of passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests on anything that is not elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more germinate in it, than a nettle on a glacier. The serene and lofty soul, inaccessible to vulgar passions and emotions, dominating the clouds and the shades of this world, its follies, its lies, its hatreds, its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of heaven, and no longer feels anything but profound and subterranean shocks of destiny, as the crests of mountains feel the shocks of earthquake.

If there did not exist some one who loved, the sun would become extinct.

Vol. 4, Book 5, Chapter 4.

The 15-Pages Love Letter of Marius for Cosette in <Il cuore di Cosette>.

[fymoonbyul]

[INTERVIEW] Solar and Moonbyul on the creation of MAMAMOO+: “It was a road we had to achieve at some point” | NME Magazine

The MAMAMOO duo also talk to NME about ‘Act 1, Scene 1’, milestones in their solo careers and their upcoming US tour.

Arriving from a small K-pop agency in 2014, few had expected MAMAMOO – made up of vocal queens Solar, Wheein, Moonbyul and Hwasa – to take the K-pop industry by storm. But they came, they saw and they conquered, breaking stereotypes and pushing artistic boundaries far and wide. Though it’s a calmer phase for them as a group now, as they look to shine in equal parts together and individually, their journey is a continuing source of creative surprises.

This time, Solar and Moonbyul join forces as MAMAMOO+, the first sub-unit of the quartet, to put out their single album ‘Act 1, Scene 1’. But as the duo explain to NME over Zoom, the dawning of this project was not a matter of if, but when. “We have spent a lot of time together since our trainee days,” Moonbyul says earnestly. “We fought sometimes, we agreed sometimes, and we had a lot of experiences to come this far. Becoming a unit wasn’t that difficult, and it was more of a road we had to achieve at some point.”

‘Act 1, Scene 1’ is the overture to their new zeitgeist, which Solar and Moonbyul first previewed last August with the digital single ‘Better’ with BIG Naughty. The three-song project melds their buoyant personalities with shapeshifting pop melodies, encompassing a well-known balance off and stage. “We felt the good parts we individually had supported each other, and the lacking parts were also fulfilled,” Solar adds smiling, her voice always poised throughout the conversation.

Here, both K-pop artists talk about their synergy, devising ‘Act 1, Scene 1’, last year’s solo milestones and MAMAMOO’s upcoming North American tour.

When did you start conceptualising ‘Act 1, Scene 1’ and how was the decision-making process to better reflect the artistry MAMAMOO+ want to construct?

Solar: “Preparing for this unit isn’t something we did overnight. We had a lot of concerns and a lot of questions about which [creative direction] we should take. With all the pondering from last year, the actual time when we started to work on [‘Act 1, Scene 1’], it didn’t take that long.”

Moonbyul: “We have been wanting to do the unit for a while now, but it really came together when we started to prepare for our US tour. The identity we want [to achieve] as MAMAMOO+ is for our music to have a happy vibe.”

You mentioned that putting together a unit was the hardest – compared to MAMAMOO as a whole or your solo releases – because of the differences in opinions that may arise. Were there any creative discrepancies when outlining this record?

Moonbyul: “When [we are working as soloists], we create our own ideas, and there’s no other [perspective] to contrast or compare, while as a group, we all work together, and there’s a company behind what route MAMAMOO [should take]. But as a unit, it’s something between. The musical part wasn’t a big problem because we did brainstorming since last year, so that was okay. But some of the difficult parts were, for example, the design of the album cover and those [kinds of details]. It wasn’t necessarily a big conflict, but we [needed to] come with those different pieces and work together.”

MAMAMOO+ signifies “adding something to MAMAMOO to glow in a different colour”, and it could be said that your B-side, ‘Chico Malo’, embodies this concept the most because it is fierce and compelling. Why did you go this sonic direction, and how does it relate with the message you want to convey?

Solar: “The song ‘Chico Malo’ is very strong, and we thought a lot about how we should put the video, the outfits and the style of the song [together]. We wanted to combine the modern with the traditional because we really feel it matches the [vibe] of the song, and that’s why the lyrics are [very poetic]. They can reveal the beauty of Korea.”

Title track ‘GGBB’ depicts a dangerous and exciting love atop a mellifluous production. It feels the polar opposite of ‘Chico Malo’, but both songs have a lyrical connection. What made you choose ‘GGBB’ as the title track of ‘Act 1, Scene 1’?

Solar: “We want to show a lot of different aspects and different styles of music as MAMAMOO+, and to do that, we considered both ‘Chico Malo’ and ‘GGBB’ [as candidates] to be the title track. But overall, in real life and as a group, we’re very bright and positive so we really wanted to show that side.”

Of all the three songs on your new album, which one is the one you cherish the most?

Solar: “For me, it’s ‘GGBB’ because, of course, it’s our title track. But [I cherish] all the songs from this album.”

Moonbyul: “Our fan song ‘LLL’ is the one that we created together with the most coming back and forth in opinions. So this is the track I feel like it’s something I’m pretty attached to.”

Moonbyul, you recently won The Second World, the reality TV competition that put your singing abilities centre stage. What are some of the emotions you will forever treasure from this experience?

Moonbyul: “[The Second World] was a great program, and at first, I had difficulties [thinking about] whether I should be part of it or not. But I had a lot of support from our fans and I had great support from my members as well. They always gave me confidence and energy and they gave me a reason to be part of this show. That’s what I will remember the most.”

You’re also the most credited female idol in the Korea Music Copyright Association (KOMCA). This creative autonomy is essential to your musicality, and it has become more prominent throughout the years. What does songwriting mean to Moonbyul?

Moonbyul: “I was pretty amazed [to know] I’m one of the highest female artists that [are credited] in KOMCA. At first, this process of writing lyrics was very stressful, but there were many supporting me from behind. As time went by, I could see my work being accumulated in KOMCA and I felt very proud. I hope I can continue to be part of creating lyrics and producing songs as well. And songwriting really means a lot to me because it [represents] my musical freedom. I can challenge different genres and the lyrics I want to write, and that freedom really helps me become a better artist and a better producer.”

Solar, your portrayal of dancer Mata Hari marked your debut as a leading actress in a musical last year. What’s something that you learned while personifying such a complex and enigmatic character?

Solar: “Being a singer and idol compared to a musical artist is very, very different. Musical artists are someone that have to sing on stage, and at the same time, they also have to act as a different person. This [experience] was very challenging because I had to show the audience all the details, the feelings and the meaning of [Mata Hari], so expressing that through acting was something that I wasn’t very aware of and I didn’t have that much experience with. It was a new stage and a very difficult time, but I really enjoyed it.”

And how do you feel about the artist and the person you have grown to be?

Solar: “Oh, this is a difficult question! [laughs]. Since I was a trainee, I’ve always wanted to be an artist that could heal people and transmit positive energy to those that listen to my music. And as MAMAMOO, as a unit and as a soloist, I think I’ve worked to show that exact vibe and this brightness that I have to the fans. But the thing is, I have very high standards and expectations, and I always have different goals that I want to achieve. As an artist, I feel there’s still a long road ahead for me, and now it’s a process where I’m going towards that final goal I have in mind.”

‘Act 1, Scene 1’ has been described as the start of MAMAMOO+, and your objective is to create expectations about the future steps. Do you already have a new chapter in mind?

Moonbyul: [Laughs] “Yes, of course! We do have a lot of plans, but it’s very early to reveal the details of [what’s coming next]. However, what we’re going to do is to meet a lot of fans – both in South Korea and overseas. It could be a concert, or it could be a fanmeet, but we want to meet them.”

Speaking of new chapters, MAMAMOO recently announced their long-awaited US stops for the first world tour, ‘MY CON’. How are you currently feeling, and what are some of your hopes for these concerts?

Moonbyul: “This is the first time we’re actually going on a US tour, so we are very, very excited to meet our fans there. We are preparing a lot, but at the same time, we are a bit worried if there will be a lot of MooMoos that are going to be part of the show. We hope to meet every single MooMoo in the States that we haven’t seen in person. That’s something we are looking forward to.”

[rhube]

Compelled loneliness and necessitated social isolation: “It’s like being on the other side of a mirror, just looking in”

The analysis illustrates how loneliness can be an integral part of living with ME and offers two novel conceptual contributions - necessitated social isolation and compelled loneliness. Necessitated social isolation concerns how ME symptoms can make social lives increasingly restricted. Compelled loneliness highlights how the combined experiences of both stigma and contested illness can lead to social withdrawal and rejection, which create a sense of loneliness. The article argues that loneliness and social isolation can be conceptually distinct yet recursive and overlapping. With the worsening of ME, the participants experienced a cycle of loneliness, in which social isolation and loneliness reproduced each other. Three key themes draw attention to how loneliness is affected by the situational aspects of living with a chronic and contested illness: (1.) spatial and temporal restrictedness (2.) communicative alienation and (3.) discreditation. The article highlights how health challenges can impact on loneliness and how the stigma of contested illness exacerbates loneliness. ... Despite the apparent prevalence of loneliness, neoliberal discourses on the subject have tended to be excessively pathologised and focussed on individuals’ personal responsibility to overcome and withstand loneliness (Duggan, 2021; Jones, 2022). ... Scepticism and disbelief about the reality and nature (psychological or somatic) of ME, placed a strain on relationships. Friends and family severed ties, or the participants socially withdrew to avoid continuing with negative interactions. Sometimes, there was mutual retreat from a relationship. ... Social withdrawal from negativity and stigma was sometimes necessary to avoid worsening loneliness and to preserve a sense of self-identity and illness narrative. In many cases, social withdrawal and loneliness were the least negative option when faced with humiliation and stigma. Both situations were lonely but withdrawing often seemed less painful than continuing with harmful relationships. ... [F]riends and family were unable to accept that she was genuinely ill so they were offended by her lack of effort... Evelyn was not relieved of her usual roles and responsibilities within her friendship group but treated with scepticism and rejection.

Oof, yeah, this resonates only too deeply.

Worth noting: Only a minority of people these days will out and out say they don't believe you're ill (this is a relatively recent development) even just 4 years ago people were a lot more open in their disbelief. But the vast majority of people will nevertheless disbelieve your symptoms. Again, not by saying 'I don't believe you,' because they know that would make them look bad, but by continuing to behave as though you don't have those symptoms.

That is to say: they still expect exactly the same behaviours, responsibilities, and roles that you fulfilled before you got sick. And if you don't fulfil those, they will be offended, complain about you to other people, and slowly withdraw contact. Sometimes they will get angry to your face about the things you can't do that they perceive that you 'won't' do. It doesn't matter how much you explain that you can't, they will still blame you for not doing the things and for being 'difficult'.

They will also ignore necessary boundaries and limits you set, and go back on any adjustments they have agreed to. Again: in the first instance they almost always assent to what you need and assure you they will respect your limitations. They just don't. They say they will, and they don't.

So yeah, as a result, I have become even more avoidant in my behaviours than ever. I'm desperately lonely, but a lot of the people I *could* contact I don't want to, because they behave in extremely harmful ways when I do.

To be clear: I have a small number of very good friends who don't do this. I am very grateful to them. But the number is very small.

[greenpebbles]

finished rpm and it only fueled my thoughts about the rpm polycule that sprouted in my brain around episode 13 so here the context behind the nlte mindmap on my phone

(this is a thought burp so the stuff might seem really woozy (?))

So beginning from the 'main' one because thats where it all started, is Summer/Scott/Flynn. This one i kinda had in mind while watching the show, but it got an activation while i was reading a fic with them as the side couple in it. Not even a full blown interaction -just Scott confessing he kissed Flynn despite having feelings for Summer and i was hooked.

Now for the dynamics: i tried to be as close to the show as possible with some inferences and observation i made about them on the show.

I'd say Scott was the one to confess -more like blurt out because he couldn't tolerate the pining anymore, and not even intentionally.

Flynn and Summer were less of a disaster about their feelings but lacked the courage to do what Scott did.

This is more of an impact from the fanfics, but i want them to have issues at the beginning or at some point in their relationships -communicating their wants and needs, boundaries, what works for them.

Summer would probably neglect her things just to accommodate Flynn and Scott, while the other two doesn't want to share their burdens and concerns (Flynn because he doesn't want to be burdensome and Scott because he's afraid it'll damage the relationship).

After something serious, they've decided to have mandatory communication at least once a week. Whether one on one to sort things out before saying to the third or all three. Summer is usually the one they go to for the one on ones but after a lot of convincing from Summer reasoning that those two had the most problem (the last bit has become an inside joke).

In my timeline of RPM mainly stretching into post-cannon, this pairing, chronologically, happens quiet a while later but I just wanna get it out of the system right now so here it goes: Ziggy/Dillon. They were too obvious to miss since the first episode and every time i thought i was out of my delusions, they go onto doing the gayest shit in the show and get away with it.

So, the dynamics:

Neither of them ever confess, until something very very dramatic (maybe near-death but a little less intense).

Both of them know they like one another, but neither have the balls to say anything due to their respective relationships besides each other.

They still are the best of friends, but the tension starts to strain it after some particular event.

When they do get together, holy fuck are they the sappiest couple out there. Ziggy is a fool in love and Dillon is a simp. Both of them love to be disgusting and have no shame about getting it in common-areas (Flynn is the only one to holler when they get to it).

However, in private, they are all about kisses and cuddles and talking nonsense. Also both of them like dates to the park and cafes.

Dillon sometimes struggles with being overprotective, especially during their Ranger days. It causes their biggest fight yet and both of them acknowledge that neither is in the wrong but just have to recognize when it gets too much. It gets better; they are comfortable enough to do long-distance post-cannon when Dillon goes scouting.

Ziggy also has some brief doubts about being able to love his two partners; they come together to smack him across the head and make him realize shit.

On the topic of Dillon, I'll say that despite my doubts, the show did quiet a bit of justice for this cannon-ish pairing, both explicitly and implicitly, and it also managed to grow on me quiet a bit. Kinda obvious but its Dillon/Summer.

I'll just get into the dynamics.

Summer had feelings for Dillon around the same time as Ziggy. Though she accepted them, she never tells it to Scott and Flynn until Dillon himself confesses to her. Scott and Flynn gets upset at Summer for not sharing her feelings and stands as support when she accepts his feelings.

They had the black-cat-persian-cat dynamic; Summer manages to find Dillon's deadly habits as cute (Ziggy is the only one to agree), can wrangle him into submission ("All of your boyfriend like getting beat up by you," Ziggy speaks the truth; the boyfriends did not appreciate it nor deny it.)

They banter alot but also appreciate company in silence: this becomes essential during their scouting tours.

Oh, did i say both are huge thrill seekers? The running gag is that they got together because neither of their partners can ride a roller coaster.

I was thinking whether to have Dillon/Scott before or after Dillon/Summer but 1) i kinda gave up on caring about keeping the relationships chronologically so fuck it and 2) i want Scott to brag that he fucked a robot. Definitely happening during Ranger days, when the hormones are high. Not sure if they last post-cannon but i like to think they at the least shifted into something platonic/qpr.

The dynamics are literally just NSFW:

Scott needed to get things out of his system and his partners are not as brutal as he wants them to get. The idea for a sexual arrangement with Dillon sprouts when they tussle like usual and Dillon ends up on top of Scott.

Scott arranges they spar some time to get it off the system, but the sexual desire gets alot and he starts to hide from his partners out of shame until Summer drags him out. The three talk and decide, if Dillon agrees to get into a sexual arrangement. That was Scott's best decision.

Scott usually tries out new things with Dillon to try himself or experiment before trying it with his partners. Usually, Dillon plays the harsh dom, mostly they fight and tussle in the act. They share a beer during aftercare. Honestly, their friendship improves as well through this.

Once Flynn got the idea that Scott went with Dillon because he can't be a bad dom and decides he can be one. Scott refuses to say what the fuck happened that night and Summer dissolves into laughter before she can ever say the details. He just made Flynn promise to never do it again and started to have a new appreciation for Flynn's way of taking care of him.

After Summer gets into a relationship with Dillon, she gathers Scott's sex habits and implements them in theirs; Scott has never been more radiant and exhausted since.

Dillon brags about single-handedly saving Scott's sex life.

I'm way too deep in a fictional characters' sex life. Then again, after the shit Scott went through, he deserves a good fuck.

Initially, i had Gem and Gemma be asexual and in a qpr with Dr. K. Then a can of worms labelled Scott/Gem produced during the 'Heroes Among Us' and got kicked so hard when i saw Scott just clutching onto himself after losing Gem and Gemma when Flynn and Summer huddled together followed by Scott clutching Gem into a hug rewired my mental chemistry in ways i cannot word.

this is how it goes.

They start out as 'friends' (as in Scott accompanies them into whatever schemes they have planned, grumbling but there) after the rescue before genuinely having a good time even without Gemma there.

The feelings really became obvious when Venjyx vapourised them.

Of course the obvious romantic feelings freaked him out but he talked to his partners first to get some wing-manning and support.

Gem was a bit confused when Scott confessed because he never really seen romantic relationships outside the team nor experienced romantic feelings. A talk with K and Gemma put things a bit more into perspective, so he happily follows.

It was new for them both: Scott having a romantic partner outside his love triangle and Gem having a romantic partner. But they use it to strengthen their friendship, especially on the field in the same squad.

Saying for the record but i'm imagining Eagle squad to be a big elite/special class of Air Force officers and even if Scott is the overall Leader of Eagle squad, Scott and Gem are in separate sub-squads to avoid conflict-of-interest.

Gemma has made it her mission to have Gem kiss Scott within a certain time, informing updates to K over the phone or message.

Their favorite pass-time/date is going for ice-cream and hiking after missions.

Yep officially at the point where I have to keep referring to which ships I missed, so let's get this show rolling with another cannon couple that managed to capture my heart: Ziggy/K!!

The dynamics really formed while I was outlining a chapter for this ship, meaning they are fresh and very very new and hence prone to editing.

Ziggy calls K Dr. K during the beginning of their relationship. Same with K calling him Ranger Green, though she got over it a little faster. They went to K and Ziggy by their first aniversary.

K cannot bear a child. Vocalizing the wish to have children took many midnight cuddles, but they get there to go to the orphanage together.

Ziggy, despite not having the knack for adventures, makes it a point to make their dates exciting for K.

Despite the looks, Ziggy is the one with emotional constipation, and K is way too blunt to hide any.

Ziggy likes to count the number of kisses K gives him throughout the day and report it to her when they get in bed.

Probably the last one on the list but I'm still keeping QPR!K/Gem&Gemma.

So the dynamics.

Alphabet soup bro.

She's the only one who can manage to remain truly unphased at the Twins shenanigans (Scott went to her for advice -despite which the best he could mister is a tired sigh).

Their hangouts are mostly silent company.

When Gem and Gemma return to the Garage for their leave, no one sees K for days on end. The rest grew to worry less over time.

K had been Gem and Gemma's first kiss (they're never getting out, might as well try it; the twins conclude it is more pleasant than sex).