#who cares for him in return and uplifts him

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,620

A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.

[II] [III]

“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey

Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.

But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.

Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.

Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.

He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.

And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.

You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.

"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.

A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.

He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.

"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.

“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.

Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.

"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.

"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.

You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.

The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.

Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.

Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.

Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He loved it.

"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.

You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?

Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”

Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.

He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."

Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*

He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.

“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”

He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."

You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.

Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.

"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?

You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.

He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.

"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.

In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.

You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.

As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.

"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."

“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.

He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”

Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.

He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.

"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”

Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.

"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.

“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.

It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.

He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.

He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.

He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."

The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.

He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.

The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.

"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.

Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.

Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.

“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.

As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?

"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.

Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.

But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.

“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”

He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.

"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.

Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”

“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.

“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.

Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.

"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.

As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”

Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”

Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.

"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"

He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”

Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”

Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.

As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.

Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.

“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.

“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.

"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.

"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.

You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.

Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.

As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.

You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.

“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.

As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.

You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.

“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?

Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.

"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.

Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.

He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.

Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.

"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.

“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”

But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.

Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.

His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.

"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."

Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.

“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.

He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"

He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”

“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."

He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.

As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.

"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.

The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.

He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.

No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.

You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.

“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.

Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."

Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.

But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.

“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.

His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.

You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.

But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.

You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.

Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.

He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.

You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”

“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.

He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.

"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."

Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”

The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.

Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.

But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”

You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?

You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“

He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.

“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”

“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”

“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”

He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”

You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.

When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.

[merlinemryspendragon]

Bridgerton - S3E02 “How Bright the Moon” // S3E03 “Forces of Nature”

[ssahotchnerr]

Hey love, could you pretty please do an Aaron x reader where it’s there wedding day and she starts getting real bad anxiety about marrying him. Not because she doesn’t want to but because she feels like he is surrounded by so many amazing people who uplift him that she could never compare. Just in the mood for fluffy comfort Aaron 🥹

enough

cw; fem!reader, a LOT of angst but it's comforting??, heavy 5x9 references (i'm sobbing actually), anxiety descriptions, aaron cries 😭, comfort and a happy ending don't worry!!!! wc; 2.4k

"nervous jitters?"

"you could say that." you replied - while staring off into space, while bouncing your crossed leg, while kicking your slipper on and off your heel. your head moved downward as your fingers clutched onto the seat of the chair you were sat in, harshly enough for your knuckles to turn white.

jj pulled the curling wand away from your face an inch, "careful, try not to move."

"sorry."

yet another wave of guilt rippled through you, as this wasn't how you should feel on your wedding day.

last night, you were surrounded by the people you now consider family, celebrating a new chapter. or rather, a beginning. aaron's permanent grin was engraved in your mind; you've never seen him so carefree, happily conversing with his colleagues, gazing at you as if he'd won the lottery (to him, he had). you were positive there wasn't a second where his arms hadn't been wrapped around you.

before parting ways for the night, he had pulled you to the side, to a more secluded area. he gave you long, sweet, deep kisses, holding your body close to his, as you weren't going to see each other until the two of you officially, and finally, became one.

just as him, you had been on a similar high, more than ready for this next adventure, in pure disbelief that in less than twenty-four hours, you'd be a hotchner. so now, whatever this was, had quite literally come out of absolutely nowhere.

when you awoke this morning, rather than the excitement you had expected, you were greeted with an empty, terrifying pit in your stomach.

as the day carried on, pre-wedding activities in full motion, it followed, and the void within only grew and grew. it was gravely unsettling; you were more fidgety, on edge, you hadn't been your usual talkative self. and despite being surrounded by your newfound family - jj, penelope, and emily more specifically - you couldn't help but choose to remain alone in your thoughts.

jj studied your face through the mirror, before securing your hairpiece in place. "there." her hands found your shoulders, giving them a comforting squeeze. "sit tight, i'll be right back."

you nodded, blinking your eyes to prevent the budding tears from slipping - and to not ruin penelope's handiwork, mascara sure to stain your cheeks. she left, leaving you alone.

but as promised jj returned no more than five minutes later, only she remained at the doorway, her head peeking in. "someone's here to see you."

after giving you a consoling smile, as if she knew - profilers - she vanished, leaving door slightly ajar.

your hand had only just touched the knob when the door moved a centimeter back, slight pressure holding it still to refrain from opening fully.

"don't open it all the way."

"aaron?" at the sound of his voice, you fought the instant urge to sob. but the utmost amount of comfort filled you too. it took a second, but you found your voice, "you're not supposed to be here."

"well technically, i just can't see you."

"still." you insisted. your tone was flat, rather than being full of giddiness due to your future husband sneakily paying you a forbidden visit - like it should've. "they're going to be looking for you."

"then let them." aaron answered simply, not concerned about that in the slightest. "are you alright?"

you immediately fell silent, and aaron patiently waited a minute, but still - nothing. the extended period of quietness, scared him, given the day's event.

please, not cold feet.

and given the current circumstances, there was only so much he could do. aaron dropped his hand to his side, weaving through the small gap. "here, give me your hand."

your hand quickly found his, the promptness allowing aaron to breathe. the familiar weight felt like home; your hand always fitting perfectly within his. your hands always cold, his warm. yours soft, his rough.

his thumb drew circles on the back of your hand, an invitation to open up. "what's on your mind?"

you bit your lip in thought, taking a heavy enough breath aaron could hear it without straining his ears.

"honey?"

"first, i want to preface this that i do want to marry you. i don't want you thinking otherwise." your voice was firm, meaning every word.

"okay..." here was a brief hesitancy in his voice despite your promise; a tinge of worry, some question. however, he managed to keep his voice steady, for the most part. you, however, still recognized the waver of uncertainty.

"just," you released a breath, your voice small. "i envy you."

aaron was quiet for a moment, and when he did speak, the confusion was obvious in his voice. "you envy me?"

"you have," you took a breath, gripping onto his hand. "so many wonderful amazing people around you... i don't even know where to start. they've been with you, stuck with you, for far longer than i have. how do i compare to that? god, dave's practically paying for this whole thing. because of you, for you. no matter who you would've married, he would've done exactly the same. i'm not special."

"sweethear-"

"i want to be enough for you." tears pinched at your eyes, your hold on his hand lessening - which frighteningly felt like you were letting go completely. "you deserve," you took another breath, and this one rattled through you. "everything. and i'm afraid i never will be."

aaron only clutched onto your hand tighter, refusing to part. his eyes squeezed shut for a moment, taking a silent, deep breath. "are you wearing your dress yet?"

after all that, you weren't too sure of how he would respond, but you certainly hadn't expected that. "no? once-"

aaron released your hand. and after looking in both directions of the hall to be certain he was in the clear, he swiftly entered, the door clicking shut behind him.

"aaron." you stared at him, your eyes wide in alarm. you barely had the time to process him in his tuxedo, or have the thought to push him out. "you can't be-"

"enough?" aaron looked at you, baffled. exasperation, pain, and love all present in his eyes. "how can you say that?"

"i-"

"you... are everything. my everything." he moved to your left, pacing away for a moment, quickly internalizing a way to get it across solidly, so you wouldn't dare question otherwise again. he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "did i ever tell you, what haley told me before she died?"

you blinked in surprise, but shook your head. while you knew the story, offered reassurances after nightmares and the topic of haley had never been off limits, aaron had never gone into detail over... the final moments. you never pushed, never asked - if it was something he chose to keep to himself, to have that part of haley close to him and only him - of course you respected that. they were vulnerable, painful memories, not easy to relive.

he sobered, his posture and expression changing before you, alight with a ghost of the past. a tender, solemn fondness was in his tone as he recalled the line. "'love is the most important thing.'"

your eyes studied his face, silently urging him to continue.

"and while our relationship had it's hardships, she wanted jack to believe in it - love - and had me promise her that i'd show him."

"aaron..."

"he believes, because of you."

"i-"

"i believe," his eyes found yours, full of a sincereness you've never seen from him. "because of you."

you opened your mouth to speak again, but no words came out.

"haley was right." he chuckled softly, with a small shake of his head, "honestly, and while i understand why now, for a long time i was furious she made me promise that. because i wouldn't be able to keep my word. before that... day, i'd already given up. lost hope that i could find it again, that it was even possible, or whether i deserved it. haley and i were together for a long time, you know that. being with her was all i knew, what i was used to, and part of me thought maybe someday, we'd manage to work things out. and suddenly, she was gone. it was too late - i was too late. i failed her, and i'd continue to fail her."

"and then you came into my life, and turned my world around completely. never did i think i would love again, let alone get on one knee and ask someone to marry me. but here we are. here you are."

aaron took your face into his hands, as delicately as he possibly could - as if he feared he would break you.

"because of you, i kept my promise to haley. jack knows, he sees the love i have for you every day. and although he 'ew's' at the sight of us kissing here and there, he'll grow up understanding. he'll know the importance, as promised."

"and you saved me. you saved from a looming downward spiral. i saw it happen to gideon, it's happened to countless others within the bureau, and i could've been the next. i told someone once; it's consuming, this job will eat you up if you let it. but instead of letting it, instead of ruining my relationship with jack, you managed to pull me from that impending darkness i was headed toward."

tears were continuously trickling down your cheeks, utterly speechless.

"you're enough. god you're more than enough. and if that doesn't... i'll prove it to you everyday if i have to. if you'll let me." a broken exhale left his lips, choked up. "i promise."

still unable to find the words, and actions speaking louder, your fingers grabbed onto his tux, pulling his body to yours and wrapping your arms around his middle, burying your face into his chest. in the back of your mind, you made a mental apology to penelope, and hoped you weren't soiling aaron's dress shirt too badly.

aaron's shoulders dropped at the contact, in relief. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you close. next, he's the one who took a shaky breath.

"so, i'm the one who should be afraid."

"what?" your voice cracked, peering up at him, your chin on his torso.

"baggage." aaron sighed, tearing his eyes away from yours, his hands running along your back soothingly - or rather, to soothe himself. "i'm the widowed father. i'm the one who's never around. i'm the one who's scarred, in more ways than one. i don't want to limit you, to keep you from a life you've always imagined for yourself. like i did with haley."

"don't say that."

"every day, i wonder why i'm the one you chose to be with. wonder why you love me. i think that it's too good to be true, that i'll wake up. or someday, you will."

"aaron."

he sighed, tears sliding down his cheek.

"you are not scarred, aaron hotchner." you cupped his face and angled him so he was looking at you, wiping the droplets away with the pads of your thumb. "far from it. the life i imagine, is with you. this is it." you found it in you to let out a small laugh, refreshing after the morning you've had. "that's why i was so worried."

he also couldn't help but laugh gently through his tears. "you shouldn't be."

your hand slid to the back of his neck, winding your fingers through the nape of his hair. "you've, very unfairly, dealt with the unfathomable. the unimaginable. but that doesn't make you broken. i find it admirable actually, and it's one of the things i love about you. you're strong aaron. to go through something like that, and come out on the other side of it, both the tragedy and the recovery part of it. a lot of people wouldn't be able to do the same."

aaron looked at you, listening, his head tilting as he leaned into your touch.

"despite what you think, you're a good father. i adore you with jack. and with the horrors you see, every day, you still come home with a calm face. you never fail to give us your all - your sweet loving self. you're always present, even if you're physically aren't here. because you're out there making this world a safer place for so many others. for jack, for me. you really don't give yourself enough credit."

aaron remained silent, his gaze beginning to tear away from yours. but you stopped him, with a finger under his chin to direct his focus back to you.

"you may have scars, but they aren't you. they may contribute, but they aren't you."

"are you sure?" his voice fell to a whisper, eyes desperately searching yours, his own dampened.

you nodded earnestly, your bottom lip quivering a small amount. "i've never been more sure of anything. i promise."

and with that, aaron's lips found yours, kissing you even more deeply than he had the previous night. from the urgency that soon developed, it was clear just how needed this conversation was, on both ends. providing closure, clarity. the kiss sent a buzz right through you, instantaneously making up for the all the lost time you had spent brooding.

you forced yourself to pull away - only when air was needed, and to simply stop. you would've gladly kissed him longer, and aaron likewise, but the two of you were on a schedule.

his forehead fell against yours, a rather boyish, adorable smile on his face. "so, are we good?"

you nodded, your lips pulling into a smile as well, the giddiness you've been missing finally present. you reached up, gently blotting away any lingering tears of his. "we've always been."

"wedding still on?"

you rolled your eyes, gently smacking his chest and making him laugh. "duh."

"okay." he grinned, pecking your lips gently. "i better go. if someone catches me in here-"

"-you'll be in trouble."

"big trouble." he grinned, pulling your hands forward to bring you in for yet another kiss. "i love you. you never saw me."

you chased his lips - just one more. "never did."

aaron laughed, his brown eyes just sparkling. "i'll see you soon. you know where to find me, i'll be waiting."

[queerstake]

Good morning, Queerstake! Thank you to everyone joining us for our community fast and letter writing campaign in response to the 2024 Church Handbook update with regards to transgender people. The policy update has shaken all of us. It is exclusionary and degrading. But we will find strength in each other as a community and courage in our efforts to effect change in this church that belongs not only to the General Authorities who authorized this policy update but also to all of us. Change in the Church happens from the ground up. Harmful policies have been issued and redacted before in our own lifetimes! We deserve to be treated with respect.

Today, we will fast together as a community that the Lord softens the hearts of the First Presidency. We will also write and send letters expressing our grief. Please don’t be quiet about your feelings today. Share your heartbreak with as many of your fellow ward and Queerstake members as you feel comfortable doing. Please post your feelings as well so we can inspire and uplift each other as we write our letters. It’s important that our grievances are heard.

Please send physical letters to:

The Office of the First Presidency

47 East South Temple Street

Salt Lake City, UT 84150

If you are unable to send a paper letter to Salt Lake, because I was not able to find an appropriate email, please instead email your letters to me at QUEERSTAKEONTUMBLR@GMAIL.COM. I’ll print and mail them myself.

Edit: @nerdygaymormon found an email address! Please feel free to send email to lgbt@churchofjesuschrist.org. However, you are still more than welcome to send them to me to print. In fact, why not do both!

A quick word of caution: Of course, no one can guarantee the type of responses we might receive for these letters. In fact, I urge you to consider using a pseudonym in order to avoid potential church discipline. Please take care to note what legal name or return address might be associated with your membership records. I don’t want to scare anyone, especially because we’re doing nothing wrong, but it’s always good to be very aware of what might make it back to your bishop.

Thank you again to everyone for joining. I’ve always felt so supported and uplifted by Queerstake. I know that our Heavenly Parents love us just as we are and that they don’t want us excluded and humiliated in our wards. We have unique and valuable testimonies to share. We don’t go unheard by our Heavenly Parents.

I’ve included a few sample letters and templates below the cut for people who might need a shortcut for one reason or another. You are welcome to send them verbatim or modify them.

#1

Dear First Presidency,

I'm writing to express my grief and concern over the 2024 handbook policy update on transgender people.

I believe that Christ invites all to come unto him and that as Christ's church, we have a responsibility to embrace people from all walks of life. No other demographic within the church is being treated with such severity as our transgender siblings under this new policy. I fear our transgender siblings in Christ will feel excluded and degraded, and we will lose many great members.

I believe it's of the utmost importance that we express Christlike love and charity even to people we don't understand. There is no excuse for asking transgender youth to leave activities with their peers as though they are a danger. There is no excuse for not allowing transgender people to work with children or humiliating them in our bathrooms. This is a demographic of people who have suffered in our society and Christ would want us to reach out to them with open arms. I humbly and respectfully ask that you reconsider these policy changes with regards to the doctrine of unconditional love that the church espouses. I beg you to consider the church experience of our transgender siblings in Christ and to prioritize their feelings over the feelings of people that wish to hurt them.

Thank you for your time.

#2

Dear First Presidency,

I feel deeply grieved by the Handbook update on transgender people. As a transgender member myself, I am doing everything I can to remain in the church and exclusionary policies like these make me feel deeply unwanted and deeply unloved.

I understand very well the church's position on gender, but I hope that despite that position that I might still be able to feel Christ's love at church. Our Heavenly Parents put me on this or Earth as a transgender person. I am not a danger to children and I am not a predator in bathrooms. I am your sibling in Christ. I want to serve in church. I want to serve in teaching positions. I want to serve the youth. I believe that we attend church with the purpose of uplifting each other and studying our religion together as a ward family. I want to be edified and I want to edify.

President Hinckley said every member needs a calling, a friend, and the word of God, and if I'm treated this way at church, I'm not receiving any of those things. If I can't have a real role to play within my ward, then I have no responsibility. If I am treated as an outsider and an enemy and a predator by policy and by my fellow church members, then I don't have a friend. If I can't also receive Christ's gospel through the love of the people around me, then I'm not receiving the real word of the Lord.

I seriously urge you to reconsider this policy update. I beg you on behalf of myself and my transgender siblings in the church to not hate us and to not exclude us.

Thank you for your time.

#3

Dear First Presidency,

I felt ______ when I heard about the new policy update to the handbook about transgender individuals. I believe we should treat our transgender members with the love and respect they deserve as our siblings in Christ.

I urge you to reconsider this policy update because ______

Thank you for your time.

#4

Dear Leadership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,

I'm writing to express my grief and concern over the 2024 handbook policy update on transgender people, which I have been made aware of due to the negative impact it is having on my [friend(s)/family/loved ones].

The reputation of love, kindness, and family values that your church fosters with its programs, teachings, and community outreach is undermined by your continued exclusion of LGBT+ members and specifically with this policy change of your transgender members.

My [friend(s)/family/loved ones] have expressed _____ in regards to the August 19, 2024 changes to the handbook that relegate transgender members of your church to second-class citizens within the organization, and deny them the full capacity of worship and belonging within your church; all because of something so insignificant to their capacity to worship and belong to a community as their gender being different than the gender that they were assigned at birth. This decision _____ me/ negatively impacts my view of your church.

Thank you for your time.

I believe that there is no excuse for asking transgender youth to leave activities with their peers as though they are a danger. There is no excuse for not allowing transgender people to work with children or humiliating them in your bathrooms. This is a demographic of people who have suffered in our society and I believe that every person needs to reach out to them with open arms. I respectfully ask that you reconsider these policy changes with regards to the doctrine of unconditional love that the church espouses. I beg you to consider the church experience of your transgender members and to prioritize their feelings over the feelings of people that wish to hurt them.

[riddlesb1tch]

A General's Burden

Cassian x reader

summary: after a rough mission at Windhaven, Cassian needs some comforting. His mate is more than happy being there for him.

warnings: mentions of wing clippings, allusions to torture and death.

Today had been a particularly gruesome day for Cassian. He had ventured to Windhaven, the camp where he, Rhys and Azriel had all grown up. There had been some reports of males clipping females’ wings again, and Cassian went to end it once and for all. And even though the mission had been successful, the males were punished for their actions and the females had been given the medical care and attention they needed, you knew it had taken a toll on Cassian’s mental health. 

He had been quiet since he had returned a few hours ago. Even when you had asked how it had gone on the flight back, Cassian hadn’t replied. Now he was locked up in your shared bedroom, blinds closed, mental shields up, and completely cut off from the world. As strong and tough Cassian seemed to the world, given his position as General of the Night Court, and his hulking appearance, he had an innocent heart. Cases like the reports had spoken about tended to deeply trouble him since he couldn’t comprehend ever hurting a female like that. Especially their wings, when he had a matching pair on his back. So he could not understand how males, who could imagine the pain and suffering of having their wings cut off and having to live without them, would ever inflict that on someone else. 

You had opted to give Cassian his space for a while so he could process what had happened and come to terms with it, but now it had been well over six hours since he had returned and he still remained locked up in his room. Deciding to take some food for him, you gently rapped your knuckles on the door. 

Knowing he probably didn’t have much of an appetite, you stuck to a simple cup of tea and some sugary cookies to hopefully uplift his mood. 

When he didn’t reply, you twisted the knob and walked into the dark room. From the faint light streaming in from the living room, you could see Cassian lying on his stomach in the middle of the bed, head turned away from you. His wings were pulled taut against his back as if scared to unfurl them. His hair was still in that tight bun he kept it in while working and even from the door, you could see the tension in his shoulders. 

Your heart ached for your mate. 

Approaching apprehensively, you set the plate down on the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. Rubbing his shoulder empathetically, you spoke softly, “Cassian? You haven’t eaten anything since you came back, love. I brought you some tea.” 

“I don’t want it,” he muttered, not turning to face you. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “But please talk to me.” 

Now he did turn to face you. He looked utterly exhausted with bags under his eyes, and drooping eyelids, yet worry and horror etched into his beautiful hazel eyes where you longed to see nothing but happiness. 

Slowly, you asked, “What happened, Cassie? It went well, didn’t it?” 

He nodded. 

“Then why are you so down?” 

He sighed deeply. “Because it still happened, Y/n. Even after so many times Azriel and I have flown down there and beaten them up, even after Rhys has threatened to literally exile the males, they still keep doing this. And those poor females looked so tired and defeated, and scared, and there were children! Little girls they were doing this to, and I felt so useless because I couldn’t stop their beautiful, precious wings from being cut off by hateful, complete waste of oxygen males!” 

You watched as Cassian spoke about what he saw today and your heart broke more and more as each word left his mouth. He blamed himself for the atrocities committed by other males and he was beating himself up over it. 

“Cassian, you stopped them,” you insisted. “The reason any of them have wings today is because you put an end to those males continuing their abuse, darling. I know it doesn’t make it better, but it’s a small win, isn’t it?” You stroked his cheek. 

“I guess,” he muttered, now sitting up across from you and crossing his legs. 

You gave him a small smile and picked up the tea from the nightstand, placing it in front of Cassian. 

“Now, please eat something,” you said softly. 

Cassian nodded, picking up the cup and bringing it to his lips. He chewed on a cookie and took a sip of the tea, and you were happy he was finally coming back to himself. You got up from the bed then and Cassian’s eyes followed you. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. 

You didn’t reply, instead went over to the dresser and picked up a hairbrush and a small bottle of oil, showing it to Cassian. You settled on your knees behind the General, softly instructing him to keep his head straight. 

First, you pulled his hair out of its tight bun and watched some of the tension leave his shoulders. Next, you worked out the knots in his length then moved to brushing the scalp, paying special attention to using extra pressure to stimulate some blood flow. Cassian hummed in relief, getting somewhat of a massage from the bristles after having his hair up so tightly. 

Setting the brush down, you poured some oil onto your palm and rubbed between your hands before burying your hands in Cassian’s hair. 

“By the Mother,” Cassian groaned in relief, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. The remaining tension completely left his shoulders as massaged his scalp, using pressure to relieve any aches and pains.

“You are magic, Y/n,” he groaned in ecstasy. 

You chuckled in response, continuing your work. After massaging his scalp, you picked the brush back up and neatened Cassian’s hair out a little before leaving the oil on overnight. 

You wrapped your arms around Cassian’s neck from behind, resting your chin lightly on his shoulder. He held your forearm, leaning his head against yours and closing his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I am truly so grateful to have you, princess.” 

You smiled, kissing his shoulder and then his cheek. “You don’t need to thank me,” you mumbled. “I’m proud of you, Cassie. You are amazing, you are a hero. Never forget that.” 

You got up, kissed his crown and picked up the oil and hairbrush to set them back on the nightstand. Cassian was lying on his back when you turned around, and you gladly went to lay down in his welcoming arms.

Masterlist

[missamericame19842023]

Wow, I had no idea about the origin story of Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer! If you aren't familiar with it either, read below:

As the holiday season of 1938 came to Chicago, Bob May wasn’t feeling much comfort or joy. A 34-year-old ad writer for Montgomery Ward, May was exhausted and nearly broke. His wife, Evelyn, was bedridden, on the losing end of a two-year battle with cancer. This left Bob to look after their four-year old-daughter, Barbara.

One night, Barbara asked her father, “Why isn’t my mommy like everybody else’s mommy?” As he struggled to answer his daughter’s question, Bob remembered the pain of his own childhood. A small, sickly boy, he was constantly picked on and called names. But he wanted to give his daughter hope, and show her that being different was nothing to be ashamed of. More than that, he wanted her to know that he loved her and would always take care of her. So he began to spin a tale about a reindeer with a bright red nose who found a special place on Santa’s team. Barbara loved the story so much that she made her father tell it every night before bedtime. As he did, it grew more elaborate. Because he couldn’t afford to buy his daughter a gift for Christmas, Bob decided to turn the story into a homemade picture book.

In early December, Bob’s wife died. Though he was heartbroken, he kept working on the book for his daughter. A few days before Christmas, he reluctantly attended a company party at Montgomery Ward. His co-workers encouraged him to share the story he’d written. After he read it, there was a standing ovation. Everyone wanted copies of their own. Montgomery Ward bought the rights to the book from their debt-ridden employee. Over the next six years, at Christmas, they gave away six million copies of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer to shoppers. Every major publishing house in the country was making offers to obtain the book. In an incredible display of good will, the head of the department store returned all rights to Bob May. Four years later, Rudolph had made him into a millionaire.

Now remarried with a growing family, May felt blessed by his good fortune. But there was more to come. His brother-in-law, a successful songwriter named Johnny Marks, set the uplifting story to music. The song was pitched to artists from Bing Crosby on down. They all passed. Finally, Marks approached Gene Autry. The cowboy star had scored a holiday hit with “Here Comes Santa Claus” a few years before. Like the others, Autry wasn’t impressed with the song about the misfit reindeer. Marks begged him to give it a second listen. Autry played it for his wife, Ina. She was so touched by the line “They wouldn’t let poor Rudolph play in any reindeer games” that she insisted her husband record the tune.

Within a few years, it had become the second best-selling Christmas song ever, right behind “White Christmas.” Since then, Rudolph has come to life in TV specials, cartoons, movies, toys, games, coloring books, greeting cards and even a Ringling Bros. circus act. The little red-nosed reindeer dreamed up by Bob May and immortalized in song by Johnny Marks has come to symbolize Christmas as much as Santa Claus, evergreen trees and presents. As the last line of the song says, “He’ll go down in history.”

@awesome moments

[desb3ar]

Vulnerable

Pairing: Miguel x Reader

Summary: A heart to heart. Comforting Miguel.

Genre: Emotional, uplifting

Warnings: Forms of self-neglect and self-loathing.

Disclaimer: This is placed during the heat of his tragic event. Just a couple weeks after. I can’t tell you the gap between then and the time the movie was placed since I don’t have a timeline at my disposal, so I’m sorry if theres some inaccuracies within here that don’t sit right.

The reader has no indication of gender.

~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since the tragedy. The moment the world had crumbled around him like an earthquake wreaking havoc in a city, debris crushing those around him, just out of his reach. That horrific day of seeing the unforeseen result of his actions left an ugly stain on his decrepit psyche. The unforgettable memory of hearing his foster daughter desperately yell out to him for aid as she glitched into nothing right in his arms had messed him up completely. Seeing his palms, like her blood was on his shaky hands. Someone he had a strong connection with, someone who he loved dearly, was gone, and he was the person to blame. A whole universe was in the palm of his hand, unbeknownst to him.

As he would stand tall, the Miguel he was before being gutted out of anything, he remained in his office. Empty and cold. That space was nothing but a tomb with someone buried alive inside by the worries and concerns for keeping everything together. Dealing with nails-on-a-chalkboard humor by numerous Peter Parkers and other variants was something he endured every waking hour when he was working. Which is every day.

With his neglected emotions aside, shoving them into the back of his mind, he keeps himself ready to order when he’s on the clock. An anomaly was taken down in minutes if it wasn’t some big shot super villain. He’d rid himself of the need for back up, he didn’t need anyone. He can do it all by himself, he’s a strong guy. Isn’t he?

He’s lost track of the days, or weeks, he’s taken a day off. That led to certain needs not being met. His shower wasn’t touched for days until he actually took his focus off his screens to get a whiff of himself. He had no shame, nothing was worse than the reason he’s brought himself down to hell. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. Jess and Peter B. gave him a push to get his tail up. He was able to return to his home just to bathe, but then it was back to work. That was his plan, to pop in then pop back out.

However, someone knocked on his door. With a slight groan and great reluctance, he made his way over to his door and pulled it open.

“You got the wrong house. I don-“

His mouth froze when he saw who he was about to shut down.

It was you.

Miguel and you had gone way back to his early days of being Spiderman. You and him had chemistry that not even the most skilled chemist could understand. You were a calm, reasonable, and sweet being with a heart made of gold, seems like you gave him a chance when he was accepted into your orbit.

The two of you hung out with each other frequently, drinking at spots you found in the cities, downtown too, and swapped between who’s pad you two were gonna hang out in that day.

Your bond was believed to be unbreakable. Until the incident.

Days together turn into the days you’d only remember. When life was just alright, when he smiled. Now they were counted, tallied up to the grand total of 47 since the last time you two faced one another.

What you saw was a walking dead man, his eyes sunken from the lack of overall care, eye bags telling his horrific sleep schedule, skin dry, hair messy, he was not the same man. You couldn’t even make out if he was even the guy you’d steal food from and share drinks with. Its been weeks and then some of radio silence on his end.

You’ve ruthlessly contacted him, but he was never keen on responding to your messages and endless calls. Multiple calls turned to one a day. Messages followed suit. You lost enough hope with long-distance communication and decided with better judgment that this reunion needed to be face-to-face. The untold but expected awkwardness was your push.

You two stood in heavy silence until you let out a soft sigh. Then, you pushed your way in, making him stumble as you moved him away from the door and pushed it close. His cracked and damaged heart skipped a beat.

“I’d believe you’ve lost your phone given your silence.” You started. Miguel stared at you as you found your place in front of him. “… But you make way too much money to not have another one if you even lost it to start.”

Miguel sighed and just… Walked away. This left you wide eyed. “Wha- Hey! Don’t just walk away from me- TALK to me! Where have you been?” You exclaimed as you followed behind him. “It’s been ages without a single word and you don’t even have anything to say now that I’m here?”

You went on to vent about the worrying abrupt absence that came from him as he set his route to his room that was devoid of filth. You’re heart ached when he didn’t say a way to your words, as if they hadn’t meant anything, or simply went through him with no effect. He sat on his bed facing away from you with you standing at the doorway.

"It's nothing." He monotonously muttered as he kept his eyes off you,

"Like hell it is." You spat. "C'mon, don't get fresh with me. Where have you been all this time? I get that you have your whole superhero thing goin' on, but nothing's kept you away for this long."

"Nowhere." He answered dryly as he put a hand on his face.

You took a deep breath and sighed at his response. "Miguel O'Hara, you have got to talk to me, not just respond. Gimme somethin' to work with." You protested.

Your friend was going through something. You let your excitement to see him and annoyance at him being a brick wall get to you. Thinking he died tragically without a trace made it seem valid. You took a second to get yourself together before you walked to his bed, joining him. Your own weight made the bed mattress seep, moving him slightly. He didn't grant you not a second of a glance.

He wasn't always the most vocal about how he was mentally. It had always been a thing you wanted to get into with him. Having deep coversations about life once a bluemoon had opened a window of oppurtunity.

One night, the two of you were talking about childhood and other endeavors that sculpted out how you turned out. You spilled some details about the past and he was surprised about how you seemed so vastly different compared to how you were brought up. That surprise came with validation when he was somewhat relating to you. Everyone who wasn't sheltered as much had suffered through some form of childhood trauma, that's obvious. However, with Miguel, going through his neglectful and troublesome past, he was stuck on the fence of reaching out when he truly needed help.

“… Miguel. What’s going on?" You asked him, your voice now lacking the fierceness you once had, just filled with worry.

Miguel stared down at the floor. His mind was flipping through the pages of a book on how to even explain. The pain he felt these past couple weeks crept back through him like a cryiptic plague.

"... I'm sorry." He spoke gravely. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything." He closed his eyes as if it would make it easier for him. "I... I went through something that really... Troubled me..." He confessed slowly.

"That's fine, that is alright, Miguel." You reassured him. "Just..."

You looked down his lap. His fingers tightly gripping his pants as his forearms shivered. You looked at his face with only your eyes. He was trying so desperately to keep himself together.

"... I hate myself for this." He grieved, his eyes were tightly shut. "I made a horrible mistake." He confessed.

He wanted to speak more, but it wasn't coming out. He knew you deserved a better explanation, but he didn't know how'd you see him after he foolishly let a whole universe blow away into oblivion. All because he wanted a family, to take care of a daughter that wasn't even his. Who makes that seem so innocent. Anyone could find that immoral, but he couldn't just let her be on her own. He wouldn't be able to bear it. Yet, he would have much rather her go through it alone now instead of her not being here at all. He couldn't think of a reason to care for himself, or even look at his own reflection. He only saw someone who was naive, someone he didn't deserve much more than a passing glance.

During his attempts at trying to speak, his lips remained parted to only spill nothing. His breath was shaking with anticipation, that was when a horse sob broke past his guard.

"Hey, hey." You placed an arm on his shoulder, rubbing it. "Look, you can talk about it later. Okay?" You told him with a gentle tone.

Silence reigned when he looked at you.

It was a sight you never thought of seeing.

He was on the brink of breaking down right in front of you.

This was not like him.

That's what broke your heart.

You went in and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry." You said.

That was when he finally broke down in your arms, hugging you tightly. His painful sobs ripped through his throat as tears ran down his cheeks like faucets, wetting your shoulder. All the pain he's gone through up till this point was finally being let out.

You pat his back gently, gasping and panting, catching his breath. The sounds of his despair made it harder for you to keep it together yourself. You nearly caved when, through sobs, he spoke about how much he despised himself. Treating himself like someone that committed the worst crime. He gripped onto your top tightly.

You spoke against it, knowing this was all just things saying out of spite of himself. You didn't want him to keep up with this mindset. You started to give him soft and gentle kisses on the cheek. You spoke words of reassurance and small truths that was able to break him out of his shell of self-hatred.

He was beginning to find ease, taking you in, he didn't loosen his grip around you however. His breathing hitching as you rubbed his back.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

There was never a time in your life where he was even close to shedding a tear. However now, he was completely vulnerable.

.

.

.

.

.

got a little rushed in the end so i apologize.

comforting miguel is so nice so why not write about it??

[mothwingwritings]

My mind has been assaulted with thoughts of a chief overseer era Hermes who has taken a a very strong fancy to you and is now about to make that your problem. :)

WARNINGS: Manipulative and obsessive behavior, coercion, abuse of power dynamics, yandere themes, Endwalker spoilers.

Hermes wasn’t above using your love of Meteion against you.

While your relationship with his familiar had grown increasingly strong over the past several months (making the two of you nigh inseparable), your relationship with him was doing nothing but steadily sour. Hermes used to be so close to you, sharing everything from ideas, to meals, to eventually living space. But recently you avoided him as if your life depended on it, coming up with excuse after excuse to escape his presence the instant he took a step in your direction.

It was maddening.

Where had it all gone wrong? As of late, every creation he crafted was in your honor, your existence igniting his creativity like nothing else had before. You were his muse, his confidante, his treasured friend. Slowly yet surely, you were becoming his everything- the reason he was able to pull himself out of bed each morning and push through another day, even in moments when it felt like no one on the star particularly cared about his ideals and musings. Other than Meteion, only you always listened to him. Only you ever truly understood.

You were always so vibrant, so exceptionally smart and caring that he couldn’t help but be ensnared by your many charms. Your existence had become a truly irreplaceable part of not just his life, but the daily lives of just about everyone on Elpis. You always went above and beyond to help whoever and however you could, from electing to be a late night study buddy to a colleague in need, to helping pitch in to clean entire dormitories unprompted, you were always quick to step in and assist without seeking anything in return. Your mere presence was a ray of sunshine, and in the few short years since you had begun working at the testing grounds, you had become so dear to so many- Hermes most of all.

He never wanted you to doubt this importance either, going above and beyond to dote on you and provide you with his ceaseless support in all of your endeavors. So fervid was his cheerleading that he had garnered quite a few reprimands for showing you ‘obvious favoritism’, all of which he disregarded as rubbish. Hermes only ever awarded you the praise you deserved.

There was no way you could misconstrue his ardent feelings of adoration towards you- so why? Why were you distancing yourself now, when weeks ago the two of you were so incredibly close?

He couldn’t quiet the whirring in his head, the nagging feeling that you were slipping away from him for reasons he couldn’t comprehend. Your avoidance had become so prevalent that even matters pertaining to work seemed to perturb you, should Hermes be involved. His ideas and creations, all of which you used to dote on and swoon over when presented to you, were now regarded with hesitation and suspicion, eyed with the slightest hint of scorn.

The praise that used to gush from your lips had trickled to a standstill, uplifting and thoughtful commentary about his creative process completely quelled. His work always used to easily net him your beaming smile, but now he was lucky if he even got a nod of approval, let alone verbal acquiescence.

Unwilling to accept such lackluster interaction he began to work overtime, churning out creations with gusto he never exhibited prior. Each of his new designs was more elaborate and charming than the next, causing confidence to swell in his chest as he watched their births. He was sure that one of them would be just what was needed to reignite your feelings for him, making a promise to himself that whichever creation yielded this desired result would be honored by him eternally. He’d even grant it the distinction of sharing your name, hopeful that the delight it brought others would be sure to become your delight as well.

He dutifully summoned you the moment a new creature was born, making sure your eyes were the first to witness the latest marvel. To say Hermes was eager to see your response was an understatement, he was downright giddy over the mere prospect of your joy, pacing back and forth as he listened for the sound of your footsteps outside his door. Driven by his thirst for your approval, he yearned for the sweet glimmer that would spark in your eyes whenever you were pleased by his creations, finding solace in this small token of your delight, especially when your lips didn’t form the words.

Yet even with all the extra effort he expended, his attempts achieved nothing. In fact all the excess work garnered the opposite effect of what he desired, pushing you further away as he floundered, desperate in his attempts  to reel you back in.

It surely wasn’t the quality or the quantity of his constructs that were driving you away, and he couldn’t imagine you had suddenly grown distasteful of his work as a whole. Even while dodging her creator, you still maintained frequent contact with Meteion, taking time out of your hectic day to play with your most favorite of his familiars. Your love for her had never dwindled, and neither had your passion for creation. No, the only logical conclusion he could come to after all this was that it was he himself that you had become averse to.

And that hurt him, deeply.

In fact, it hurt him so much that Meteion couldn’t help but be caught up in his anguish, writhing and moaning in a state of addled torment each time the thought of you flitted through his mind (which was to say, constantly). Seeing the suffering he endured mirrored onto her cherubic, kind face plunged him further into despair, very quickly turning the whole situation into something unbearable.

At his tipping point, he did the only thing he could think to do. He scooped the small girl up in his arms, bee lining it to your chambers. He cared not that it was the dead of night or that this could very well just add to your distaste for him. He just needed to see you- needed the balm only you could provide.

All it took was a glance at sickly, pale Meteion to turn your initially displeased scowl into a look of utter concern.  With the ravaged girl draped limply in Hermes arms, you ushered the two of them into your room without question. You guided him to your bed with a steady hand placed on the small of his back, throwing the sheets this way and that to make a proper area for her to lay.

How wonderful it felt, having you touch him again.

A myriad of rapid questions tumbled from your lips, all of which pertained to Meteion’s poor state and what possibly could have happened to cause it. It was obvious from your frantic expulsions that you were clueless of the inner turmoil that Hermes had been suffering, your mind unable to fathom what event could have transpired on this beautiful, peaceful star to cause such a sweet being as Meteion to go into such a tizzy.

Initially, Hermes felt nothing but immense irritation over your ignorance. After all that had occurred by your hand, all the avoidance and contempt you had been directing his way, how could you not understand? How could he not be affected by your actions? How could you not see how much both of them needed you just to function, and how your self-imposed detachment from him lead to this conclusion?

Through gritted teeth, he struggled to keep his composure as he relayed the truth.

This was all your fault.

Once he started speaking, he found himself unable to stop the vitriol that bubbled up from his throat, birthed of the immense torment he had suffered through. It was almost painful, watching the way your face contorted with each admission. Witnessing you experience the realization that YOU were the cause of such anguish was akin to watching as you took repeated blows to the face, striking you with such concentrated ferocity you found it hard to maintain your balance. As your legs buckled under the weight of your transgressions, Hermes offered himself for support, helping to steady you despite the potency of his words. It was a good thing he was there to catch you, as you would have surely crumbled were he not around to embrace you.

Even overcome with anger, he treasured your proximity, savoring the weight of you in his arms as he held you close for the first time in a long time.

The exchange brought an odd sense of peace to him, unloading his concerns upon you greatly diminishing the burden he had damn near been buried beneath. Though the news caused you visible grief he felt no pity for the dissonance he had planted in your heart. While unfortunate, the guilt you were experiencing was a pain you had inflicted upon yourself, any melancholy brought on by your actions was a burden you deserved to bare. He felt no remorse over his tirade, instead feeling a sense of accomplishment as his words broke you down, leaving you with no other choice than face the bitter subjugation of the truth, understanding in full how greatly you had wronged him.

The ends justified the means.

As fat tears rolled freely down your ruddied cheeks, he was taken with how stunning you looked in the moment. Watching as you were overcome by emotions was a beautiful thing to witness. From the tremble of your shoulders, to the shaking of your legs, an overwhelming feeling of catharsis and awe flooded him as you sobbed and apologized in his arms. Even at your lowest, you were still absolutely enchanting.

Finally he was getting through to you. Finally you understood your importance to him. Finally you were realizing your true role in Elpis, nay, on this entire star.

It was to be his. Your smile, your kindness, your thoughts, your wisdom, the warmth of your touch, the sigh from your lips, your ecstasy and your pain- it was all his, and he would no longer deny his right to claim what belonged to him.

Warmth blossomed in Hermes chest the longer you clung to him. He extolled gentle whispers of reassurance while his methodical hands rubbed circular patterns against your back, the motions soothing him more than they seemed to soothe you.  Regardless, peace and balance were slowly being restored, the effects of which were beginning to manifest in Meteion as well. No longer in the grips of despair, her breathing evened as she looked over towards the two of you embracing, the sparkle returning to her clear and hopeful eyes as she took in the sight with a smile.

Everything was returning to as it should be, and this time around, he knew just the tricks to keep your heart from wandering any further.

[sneakyboymerlin]

Any thoughts on s5 merwaine strained relationship (Merlin not wanting to save him in ep1/2,not hugging him in ep4, Gwaine not speaking up for Merlin when Gwen accused him of Arthur’s murder, Eira (ep12).

First off, I’m going to start with the obvious: season 5 eps 1 & 2 are painfully out of character, poorly written imposter episodes. The sole purpose of Merlin’s hesitance to ride out is to uplift Arthur’s character, making him appear more heroic and matured than Merlin, and by comparison to where we saw him in s4, without having to actually develop his character. It’s cheap, lazy writing, to put it bluntly.

But, if it helps… Merlin wasn’t just ~abandoning~ Gwaine. He thought Gwaine was dead and that Arthur was going on a fool’s errand to join him in an early grave. Regardless of the fact that Gwaine was very much still kickin’, this is the place that Merlin was coming from. If the writers really needed to take the route they did, they should have given us a scene of Merlin mourning Gwaine to make this clearer, but since the writers only care about Arthur, they only show us this information through Merlin’s concern for Arthur. But it is present in the text.

In 5x04, we can see that Merlin is frantic to get to Arthur because Arthur is walking into a trap. It’s a time-sensitive mission. The purpose of writing a scene where Merlin shoves off Gwaine’s hug is simply to express this urgency. It comes across worse because, again, the writers do not find it important to show Merlin and Gwaine after they save the battle. They only care about how these events fuel Arthur’s reputation (not to be mistaken with development… he does not truly develop).

The belief that Gwaine simply let Merlin be arrested in 5x07 is a fanon pet peeve of mine. We don’t actually see any of the knights’ reactions in the immediate aftermath— only that Merlin did indeed get thrown in the dungeons. Later, we see that Leon believes the accusation and fully supports Gwen. We also see Gwaine pursuing what he believes to be an intruder in the citadel and, later, releasing Merlin from the dungeons himself with a massive smile on his face. We can pretty easily infer from this that 1) Gwaine did not believe that Merlin did it; 2) He may have been attempting to find the real culprit; and 3) He was outnumbered by the knights who did believe Gwen/follow her orders (such as Leon). After all, if Gwaine had arrested Merlin or believed the accusation for a second, he would have shown guilt upon releasing him from the dungeons. And why have Gwaine specifically be the only knight to release Merlin otherwise?

Gwaine sleeping with Eira is not evidence of a strained friendship between Merlin and Gwaine. Rather, it ends up proving where Gwaine’s loyalties truly lay— and it showcases Merlin’s friendship with Gwaine, which has indeed been ignored in s5. The reason for this is because it is their last episode together, and the writers are aware that fans care enough about their friendship that it needed the attention promised from Gwaine’s intro ep.

Gwaine rescues a cute girl (and gets rescued in return) and takes a special interest in her because he’s attracted to her. Merlin does Gwaine a personal favor by tending to her wounds. Later, Merlin asks Gwaine to escort him into the Valley of the Fallen Kings and does not provide an explanation for why, because he trusts Gwaine to protect him. Gwaine acquiesces, leaving Eira behind even though she asks him to stay. Gwaine makes it clear to Merlin that he’s doing this for Merlin because he wants to and does not expect anything in return— in fact, he feels he’s gotten more than enough in return. Merlin trusts Gwaine enough to admit he’s lying to him, even if he won’t tell Gwaine what about. And Gwaine trusts Merlin enough to leave him to it, then leaves Merlin with his sword since he won’t accept Gwaine’s protection any further.

Offscreen, Gaius reveals to Gwaine that Merlin believes Eira to be the traitor in the court, and provides Merlin’s evidence. Gwaine takes Merlin’s word for it and sets Eira up, sending her to her execution. So, really, the whole Eira situation is functionally meant to boost our view of their selfless friendship… but a bit too late, since the writers have neglected them quite literally all season long. It’s very much a last minute “shit we forgot to care” project.

When they do give Merlin and Gwaine’s dynamic attention, though, the writers make sure to present how close they are, but they ignore this for the most part to focus on Arthur. Essentially, it’s not that Merlin doesn’t still care about Gwaine… it’s that the writers don’t. The writers literally do not care about anyone besides Arthur— not even Merlin, the titular character. Not only did they neglect to give Merlin any character consistency in s5, but they did so (and framed events in a specific way) to ensure that Arthur’s reputation would remain unstained, as he is a personified fantasy of avoiding accountability and being coddled for one’s own wrongdoings.

Fans, of course, buy into this and argue that Arthur can do no wrong because he’s “too ignorant” to know any better, instead placing blame on characters like Morgana for “proving the stereotypes right” or onto Gwen and Merlin for “coddling” him. Thus, these fans coddle Arthur, despite claiming the opposite.

The truth is that Arthur is responsible for his own actions and beliefs. Those actions and beliefs are the mass slaughter of innocent people simply because they have magic. He’s already seen more than enough evidence that magical peoples are not inherently evil or harmful, and applied this same logic to other areas of life (such as nobles vs. commoners), and found that no one is inherently superior or inferior for their birth circumstances. It is only in the topics of magic (and gender…) that Arthur believes this. But even after the Dolma saves Gwen, he still refuses to lift the ban… so, yeah, all in all you can blame the lack of Merlin and Gwaine content in s5 on the writers not wanting Arthur to either develop or be held accountable for his actions. Instead, they wanted to present a character to be lauded above all others no matter what he does. This tells you a lot about the morals of the people writing the story… and maybe some of the things they don’t want to be held responsible for. After all, 35% of all BBCM episodes come with a message of, “If you try to stop this oppressive bigot, you’re just as bad as he is!”

TL;DR: they shoved Merlin and Gwaine aside to make more room for monarchy propaganda.

[junosmindpalace]

i find discourse around the rdr women so...fascinating and infuriating at the same time. because a lot of the time it doesn't seem like rdr fans want to apply the same level of complex analysis to the women like they do for the men, but when they do, it still doesnt seem all that well-intentioned or that it does right by their characters.

this is a very long analysis/spam/defense so be warned :,)

even though the majority of sadie's character revolves around the fact she not only lost her home and her husband and was thrust into a new life of crime, but was actively struggling with robberies BEFORE the events of the game, people instead choose to focus on whether or not she had feelings for arthur or whether he actions in the game were actually impactful. she helped saved abigail and john when no else would, she fought alongside the men against the army, she helped john set up a stable life, she helped rob the payroll train, helped ensure colm’s death, she fought alongside arthur TIME AGAIN and took over in a leadership role when half the gang was absent in the guarma chapter. to say that she did nothing more except “be badass” undermines all of these contributions to the story that she was either at the forefront of or helped bring to fruition.

in my opinion, abigail is the EASIEST character to defend out of any of the women, and yet somehow she receives the most backlash from dudebros. I lose ten braincells every time i have to read a theory post over whether or not she slept with other camp members besides john, whether or not she was a rat, and about how much shes a nag. the woman has not known a moment's rest in her entire life. by the age of eight she was working in a cathouse. she was a child prior to then scrapping whatever money she could earn at her young age in saloons and dive bars as a woman and child just to survive as a orphan. jack's birth was clearly not planned, and she has voiced multiple times her grievances at the circumstances of his upbringing. everything she does is for a better life for her son: a life she never had. her constant nagging to get john to man up and be a father is for her son's benefit, not her own. she even says so herself when she tells him that she doesn't mind if a relationship between them doesn't work out, but to at least try being there for jack. she can't work a job because she is a mother living a life of crime and danger; she can't afford to leave the camp and her son unsupervised. she still does her share around camp. why would anyone blame her for not wanting to return to a life that has made her miserable, especially now that she has a child who she wants to model a good life for? many people seem to somehow also forget that she herself was a child when she gave birth to jack; only 17-18. she is 22 in the game in a bad situation with the father of her child and financially. she is doing her best to raise her son when she is not fully equipped to do so. how can anyone even blame her for being skeptical of john when hes affectionate in the epilogue when for so long hes been distant? she does not even ask much of john--just to be there for him sometimes, and to live honestly. she is also incredibly kindhearted. comforting other women in the camp, offering a listening ear, taking care of john when hes injured. she puts in her share of effort when it comes to finding a job in the epilogue and maintaining beechers hope.

molly is a young woman who is presumably incredibly far from her home where her family is, and trying to navigate a way of life completely unfamiliar to her. her stuck up nature comes not only from the way she was raised, but also dutch's uplifting affection and presumed lovebombing in the early stages of their relationship. shes even been suggested to be somewhat sociable until dutch and her became somewhat of an official item, in which she grew somewhat of a bigger ego with a mentality that she was his right hand. she deeply depended on dutch for her stability in every way, and its evident in her eventual spiral. she hated being seen as weak and pitiful as somewhat of an outsider among outsiders. she seemed to be close to no one besides dutch, who repeatedly cut her off when she attempted to talk to him about her growing feelings of anxiety, paranoia and sadness. the loss of the one thing that had built her up, coupled with immense tragedy she just wasnt used to, and desperate for a semblance of respect and dignity that she had presumably been all too accustomed to, of course she was going to come off brash and confront dutch about his distant, high and mighty attitude. it's why by the end, she doesnt care if she is killed: there is nothing left for her. karen's comment about her pretending to rat them out for the sake of attention is also interesting in terms of their relationship and parallels, which i dont see ANYONE talk about.

karen very clearly struggles with...a lot. she has even said so herself when talking with molly. she struggles to accept help, evident in pieces of dialogue where she brushes off concerned gang members about her drinking (mary-beth, arthur, javier), and when she seems somewhat ashamed and embarrassed having to have been rescued by arthur in the valentine mission (SAYING EXPLICITLY "i dont much like being saved"). she struggles with believing people have good intentions/feelings toward her, illustrated in the way she's constantly rejecting sean, yet seemingly disappeared further down the bottle after his death, and her conversation with mary beth and tilly about the world having no equal and fair place for women. her negative experiences in the world as a woman could also influence her view of the world, perhaps being why she finds herself somewhat hostile toward feminist mindsets and why she, for a while, enjoyed the outlaw lifestyle: it was her little slice of freedom. her hatred for the rich can also be because she has experiences as a poor woman, perhaps some direct experiences in which rich people have negatively impacted her life. though molly and karen don't get along through most of the game, karen actually tries to step in and help her near the end, and its this action + defending her after her death that shows she was sympathetic toward her situation and on some level able to relate to it, both craving some kind of love beyond superficial things.

@/cryptidcr3ature said it very well in a post i reblogged recently: mary is essentially "her brother's keeper and her father's caretaker". she herself lives somewhere middle class with traditional notions of the time impacting her views on arthur's lifestyle and anything below those middle class standards being deemed as socially unacceptable (which is evident from the very first letter mary sends to arthur, in which she seems confused on what a polite term would be to refer to prostitutes, who were obviously thought very lowly of in the time). i also don't think its fair to criticise her condemnation of arthur's lifestyle when pretty much all audiences, contemporary and not, including members of the gang, acknowledge that it isnt anything pretty. killing is not fun. running from the law is not fun. mary was not only influenced by her father's views of arthur (a person that, despite being horrible, she still deeply loves), but looking after her own family, herself, and arthur's wellbeing when she ended their relationship + suggested they run away. she had given him an opportunity at compromise. perhaps the first time, scared and unfamiliar with his lifestyle, she had offered arthur an ultimatum: her or his outlaw life, but later was willing to also leave behind her brother and father, two figures that tie her down and make her life more miserable than need be despite loving them very much, in order to settle somewhere with arthur and start over. her asking for arthur's help comes from a place of desperation and excuse to allow herself some semblance of stability when she hadn't had it; at least not since her mother and husband passed. if arthur refuses to help her, she is incredibly understanding and sympathetic. she does not lash out. if arthur does help, she is immensely grateful, and even tries to bond with him despite their years apart.

this post isnt to excuse some of their more negative behaviours and aspects of their characters'-- but im saying that they deserve to be fairly treated and analyzed just like any of the rdr men. many of them are young. many of them have unique challenges as women. that isn’t to say the men have it easier, but their struggles and less prettier aspects of their characters are always met with more sympathy than the women. why do arthur and john get passes as reformed absent fathers and criminals? why does sean receive sympathy when karen rejects his pushy advances? why does hosea get a pass at being better than dutch when he still groomed younger members of the gang for a life of crime alongside dutch? why does dutch get a pass by having his downfall be justified by tough circumstances? lets just be fair

[ingravinoveritas]

I personally think its disgusting of what she posted yet again its all about her and she the reason why micheal keeps trending 4th day oh please he was trending for days before she came in the picture. And for someone who has no career and basically living off her parter who works so hard and been ill with virus the last few days and haven't been able to perform and she post this. Taking the credit for something that has nothing to do with her. He very grateful that she keep him grounded what that suppose to mean ? He was doing better before she came in the picture since he been with her his career have been slowed a little and she probably the reason for it

What do u say ?

Oh, boy. I saw this a little while ago, and all I could think was that the bar is so low at this point--like halfway between the fourth and fifth circles of Hell--and this still somehow falls short.

I know there has been a lot of talk about the t-shirt Anna is wearing (which was a gift from a fan at the stage door of Nye), but for me, the t-shirt is the least concerning part of all this. It's a reference to a quote from Staged (it's the title of a season 1 episode, in fact), and I am sure Michael found it funny. The only problem is that without the context of why it's a joke, it actually just isn't that funny. And it sets the stage for everything else that is happening.

Which brings me to the caption she wrote, which was what primarily caught my attention. The reason Michael is currently trending on Twitter (X, whatever we're calling it) is because of the overwhelmingly positive response to The Assembly, which aired last Friday night. He is receiving a tremendous amount of praise for being on the show, how he spoke to the interviewers, and the respectful and joyous atmosphere that was cultivated on the show. And rather than allude to any of that--not to mention Michael being sick recently, or the trip they went on to Disneyland Paris--Anna made Michael trending on Twitter about her.

That is what stands out to me the most. The idea of "keeping him grounded" that is coming across more like kicking someone when he is already down. That he somehow needs that, and that she would have us believe he is "grateful" to her for, what...comparing him to a loud bird? Repeatedly making fun of his looks and interests without a shred of respect or affection behind it? I'm also confused by the implication (and the irony) that Michael somehow has a large ego that needs to be kept in check when she is the one coming across as self-involved in this Insta story. So, yes. I'm at a bit of loss here.

I just keep thinking of the things she could have said instead. How she could have uplifted Michael, wished him well on returning to the stage tonight after several days' absence, said how she was glad to have spent time with him or taken care of him while he was ill. Just something that would give him a reason to hold his head high. But I guess it might just be easier to convince herself/everyone else that he is smiling if his head is hanging down instead.

I am just glad Michael is out performing again tonight and getting to be on stage and do the thing he truly loves to do. But those are my thoughts, and I'd be glad to hear from my followers about what you think, regardless of whether you agree or disagree...

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. All but one of these are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

Fuyu got a personality transplant this week and I have officially given up on this show being what I hoped it was. Enjoy the mess and the humiliation kink and don't look for consistent writing, logical plot, or deeper themes and you will find some things to enjoy. Like these two beautiful ladies making out a bunch!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yara ka

I love this show so much, y'all. This week we got the return of Sakae's selfish chaos ex, Mizuki, and because this is a show by and for adults, this resulted in our leads engaging in some proper communication, clarifying their feelings for each other, and sharing their first kiss by the end of the episode. I loved seeing more of Sakae and Mizuki's dynamic, and I just know if Soga wasn't in the picture Mizuki would already be in with Sakae again. Sakae is a soft touch and Mizuki clearly knows how to play him. But thankfully, Soga has already wormed his way into Sakae's loyal heart, so he was not tempted to waver. And for Soga, who is experiencing a queer awakening via his relationship with Sakae, Mizuki's presence was a much needed jolt to sort out his own feelings and decide he wants to try a relationship despite his concerns about not staying in Osaka long-term. I also loved the way their friends rallied around them to push Sakae and Soga to figure their shit out, and the sauna scenes will never get old.

Perfect Propose

It's official, I have adopted Kai as my child and will be forming a protection squad. This show is striking a good tonal balance of being fairly downbeat and serious, between Kai's past and Hiro's current work/life balance issues, but also uplifting in how their relationship builds. I like that they talk to each other so honestly about what they're feeling for each other, and Kai's quiet confidence that Hiro returns his feelings and just needs to come to terms with it is both hilarious and correct. My favorite thing that happened in this episode was Kai confidently noting all the ways Hiro’s body was responding to him and asking him to “be conscious of it.” Kai wants Hiro to be conscious of Kai’s feelings but also of his own responses, and he’s asking him not to look away from it and pretend he doesn’t know there’s something between them. I love the confidence of that.

And I sympathize with Hiro, as well, because it's not just that he's never considered being with a man before--he also just doesn't feel he has anything to offer to a partner right now given his brutal work situation. His guilt and shame for missing the festival after inviting Kai to go together was real, and you can see that he just can’t fathom having anything to give with the situation he’s in at work right now. The trick will be trusting that Kai can accept those limitations until he’s able to find a better balance, and then actually taking steps to pay attention to what he needs and wants, both in this relationship and in his career. Hiro has not been taking care of himself and it's catching up to him.

Ossan's Love Returns

A downbeat week for this show, and an episode that did not entirely work for me. I liked some of the themes they were exploring in this one, but it was all missing the humor that I've come to rely on and I don't feel that all the story threads pulled together as tightly as they normally do. In particular, my head is inquisitively tilted at the show's decision to make Maki and Haruta's wedding episode feel like such a misery slog, to focus primarily on the tension and strife leading up to the event rather than the joy it should inspire, and then to stay in the melancholy after a small moment of catharsis for our couple (and some season 1 flashbacks) by focusing on the sadness their marriage inspired in their various lonely suitors rather than their own wedded bliss. Seeing a wedding in jbl is a practically unheard of occurrence; a bit more queer joy was in order IMO and its absence was notable. I also thought the swing from Kurosawa beginning to accept a new role in Haruta’s life to suddenly going back to being lovelorn felt abrupt and poorly constructed. It's not that I think these ideas are unfounded given the show's focus on older male characters who feel past their prime for romance, but the execution was not quite right. And of course I am not too keen on the death flagging we got at the end for Kurosawa; I really hope the show will not take this story in a tragic direction for him.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I have still only seen the first four episodes of this; sadly, the next batch is not yet available to me. But soon! In the meantime, let's revisit Nomoto sobbing over a lesbian film. She's just like me fr.

Next week we'll be continuing all of these plus adding My Strawberry Film, the final Drama Shower (go here for an explanation on what that is from @bengiyo) show for the season! I continue to be delighted by this embarrassment of jql riches.

[ratcash-wasgud]

My take on Taigen

And his relationship with Mizu

I know that usually I'm not the type to express much opinion on here unless it's about how much I love Mizu, but I feel like I need to get this off my chest.

I truly am a Taizu hater. I usually don't hate ships unless they are problematic in some way, but this one just...irks me.

With Taigen as a character, I have no problem with. He experiences struggles, character growth, and has traits that are likeable to the general public, but when he gets paired with Mizu it really angers me.

Taigen was a big source of suffering for Mizu when she was younger, and I cannot fathom how can people just forget that. But I also know that he had his reasons to do that. He was an average guy with the intention of making it big, so he had to feed the people around him so they could uplift him. Understandable. That's a way someone could make it big.

But we also never heard a proper apology. Should he apologize? No. It wouldn't fit him. He's not someone who apologizes. But to me, without an apology, sexual tention is not enough to see the potential of him being a good partner to Mizu.

He has a similar personality to Mikio, in my opinion at least. He has a big ego, but he becomes very playful when he warms up to someone.

The playfighting they do in that one scene is similar when Mikio rides horses with her while laughing. Taigen and Mizu would end up like Mikio and Mizu did: with a man's wounded ego and Mizu feeling the need to burry a big part of herself.

I feel like from his relationship with Akemi, we could learn a lot from how he would be with a woman. He easily neglects live for the sake of his own ego, and I don't think that would change with Mizu.

Now a couple words on what kind of love Mizu needs:

(In my opinion of course)

She need gentle love, the kind she got from Mama when she was younger. The love she got from Mikio worked for a while, but that's it. She needs to be treated like a child (even if a little bit), because her childhood has been stripped from her. And I think she knows that. She needs her childhood back, but that's not possible because it's already gone. So instead she needs someone who she can protect like she wanted to protect Mama (but failed), and someone who's gentle and caring, and could protect her emotions in return.

Could Taigen do that? No.

Taigen is someone who is needs to be assisted in his dreams. Even if he no longer "wants to be great", he'll still have dreams. He still wants his honor, he still wants that peaceful life he desires to be like how he imagines it. And he needs someone who can assist him, not someone who can build it alongside with him. He's not a team player. The moment he feels like he's dragging someone down, he demands to be left to die, because that's honorable.

I will not start disliking you if you ship Taizu though, I'll just never understand it.

[manicpixiefelix]

*crashes my imaginary car into your inbox*

OLLIE WHO WAS ADOPTED BY READER'S FAMILY!!!!!

I know this is a major shift in established dynamics but hear me out!!!

What if Oliver's tales about his home life were actually true, worse even so he ended up an orphan? He gets adopted by Reader's parents for the optics mainly because it makes them look good and they figure it'll provide their heir with a companion.

So they become this peculiar little duo, both very observant of the world and people around them. Ollie is a stranger to this world of the ultra rich and endures etiquette classes.

Oliver Quick becomes Oliver L/N, the boy uplifted from squalor by the heroic family *eye roll*

Reader is fiercely protective of their brother and will ruin anyone that insinuates he's not ~really~ family

I know we've never really discussed the ancestral home of Reader but I imagine it is every bit as grand and impressive as Saltburn. Ollie's favorite room is definitely the massive library.

BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS A LOT OF COURSE I LOVE HOW YOUR MIND WORKS!!!!

Of course your parents love the optics of it all.

You're six when they adopt Oliver, and he's five; this mousy little thing who doesn't smile often and barely speaks and can't look you in the eyes. He shys away from your overbearing, performative parents, but you seem to be able to see how overwhelmed he's getting. There's no words in your first interaction, only gestures, taking and keeping Oliver's focus as best you can to ground him in the moment; you teach him a simple game, and he returns the favour. Not a word between you two. By the end of the visit, you realise the adults have gone quiet; your parents and Oliver's case worker are just watching you both, marvelling. As you're looking away, Oliver himself finally steps towards you, taking your hand carefully and half hiding himself from them behind you, as if already deciding to trust you. You and Oliver had begun the day as strangers, and ended as siblings.

Your parents love to tell anyone who will listen about how when you first met Oliver you 'practically fixed yourself to his side and haven't moved since'. You look like the perfect family in photos, and the press is quick to forget how little research your parents did on the last charity they very publicly supported, and it's less than ideal history. Oliver learns to smile on command the way you feel like you've always known, but at least they don't make the two of you seperate in these moments.

Oliver says your house is like a fairy tale. At first he sticks close by you, overwhelmed by it all, but as the days turn to weeks and then months, you start to lose him as he goes exploring amongst the estate's many rooms and corridors. No-one knows the old house better then you, but Oliver is a close second; Nan says Mother used to scurry around just like you did, used to know every trick the old house had, but that was a lifetime ago.

Mother's study locks from the inside and Father works long hours in the city, so it's up to you to help Oliver settle in with the nannys and the tutors and the rest of the staff. Your parents like to buck tradition, so they're not precious enough to hire anyone to teach Oliver the etiquette that usually comes with wealth and a house like this, so long as he was polite and respectful and sweet faced in public, they couldn't care less which fork he used for salad. Honestly adults at events found his lack of grace and understanding of their unspoken rules charming in its sincerity. You, however, know that their condescending adoration grates on your brother's nerves as they talk to him like he was some kind of pet.

On the weekends Nan comes over, and it's clear that Oliver likes her the best of all the adults in your lives. Like you she doesn't pressure him to talk, always taking his silence in stride, but also taking the time and putting in the effort to understand him when he does try and communicate, however that may be.

In public - not that you're in public a lot - you and Oliver tend to cling to each other. As you grow older, even as you stop physically holding on to each other, you barely seem to stray from each other's shadow. Of the two of you, Oliver still is the far more reserved one, happy to let you do the talking most of the time, often only sharing his thoughts as quiet asides to you alone.

Considering your parents had no choice but to publicly acknowledge you in this universe, you and Oliver very much grow up in the public eye. The strange, observant duo who seemed to have the uncanny ability to wrap rooms full of adults, the upper echelons of society, around their little fingers, grow into beautiful and bitchy socialites.

Considering you're both getting privately tutored instead of going to a proper school, most of your time is spent travelling and attending events. Following the various Fashion Weeks around the world is a yearly tradition since you were teens, you go to concerts and film festivals and galas, always together, always inseperable. Or at least, inseperable when being seen by people who might matter. Oliver's confidence grows, he's far more open and even talkative in public than when he was a kid, but there's comfort in your established dynamic too. It returns most often at formal events, with Oliver half a step behind you, murmuring his commentary and amusing aside to you throughout the night.

A few of the independent tabloids your family didn't own print unsavoury rumours about your closeness, but those get pulled from news stands within the day, and a few threats of defamation lawsuits make them think twice before printing those kinds of articles again.

Everyone in the Western world knows who you both are, or has at least heard of you. But thankfully it's been years since anyone had tried to tie Oliver back to the Poor Orphan Boy he was when he'd first been adopted. By the time you both get to Oxford, he's been your brother for so long that it's like the world has thankfully forgotten that it's not by blood.

[daenerystargaryen06]

This is late 'cause I've been very busy and sick- but let's get into it.

I've seen so many comments like this one on Tik Tok, really terrible platform for comments like these to pop up since everyone likes spreading their hate for Dany on Daenerys edits/videos, especially on other comments that show support for Daenerys and uplift her. But this one in particular genuinely baffles me no, I won't blur the name out; this dude commented this on a public forum for everyone to see. Just don't send him hate or anything... even if this part of the fandom isn't as crazy as all the others.

'Drogon isn't as crazy as his slave master Dany'. Let's break this down, shall we? First point- Dany isn't a slave master, ESPECIALLY to Drogon. Dany was a bridal sex slave herself, in the show at the age of 16/17, in the books at the age of 13. She knows what it's like to be a slave, she was one herself, and due to her enslavement and the horrors she saw when wed to Drogo (his own people's violence against not only her but also the Lhazareen)- Daenerys wants equality for everyone. She breaks the chains from those enslaved in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. She works to free these people from their sufferings and plight and give them agency to achieve freedom for themselves and no longer live under the cruelty of the Masters. In the show, she sets up a council of freedmen to govern themselves to rule the cities, and she ensures the Masters no longer remained a threat to her people before she left to Westeros. In the Books, she is currently struggling against the Masters and is facing many struggles, but she is still striving to ensure her people remain free and safe from the Masters without worry of cruelty and fear under the Masters for their own profit.

"There speaks one who has been neither." Dany's nostrils flared. "Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and I . . . my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?" -A Storm of Swords - Daenerys II

"He was too eloquent for her. Dany had no answer for him, only the raw feeling in her belly. "Slavery is not the same as rain," she insisted. "I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned." -A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys III

Even worse is that this comment refers to Dany as being DROGON's slave master. Drogon has never been considered a slave to Dany. He is her child, her son. Her dragons are her children. Dany has never regarded them as slaves, nor will she ever regard to them as such. Rhaegal and Viserion were chained because Drogon killed a child, and Dany feared her dragons would grow unruly and begin to kill more of her people, yet she also regrets this decision. She cries when she does this in the show. She reflects upon it and regrets it in the books. She will always care for and love her dragons, who she loves alike to a mother. She regards to them as her children and would never willingly harm them.

In the show and books, Dany struggles with Drogon making his own decisions. But she does not try to enforce him under her will like a Master would a slave. She wants him to listen, yes, but every mother wants their child to listen and behave. In the show, she never harms Drogon or forces him to submit, he WILLINGLY listens to her once she gains back her identity after burning the Khals in Vaes Dothrak and going against the Masters when she returns to Meereen. If he didn't wish to listen, he wouldn't have to, as he possesses a mind and will of his own which was already shown in seasons 4-5. In the books, she has to whip Drogon into submission, but it was not to enslave Drogon- it was to SAVE him and her people from death in the Fighting Pit when he comes and almost loses his life while burning the people around him. If not for her, Drogon would have died, and he attacks back at her as well within the Pit before he submits to her and allows her to ride upon him away from the violence that was occurring.

Calling Dany Drogon's slave master is alike to calling every other Targ before her slave masters to their dragons, when we know that isn't true, and Dany's connection to her dragons is actually very much different and runs deeper than that of her ancestors with their own dragons.

Now, on the topic of 'craziness', Dany is far from it. In the show, she only became 'crazy' in the very last few episodes of the last season, when the writers ruined her character all for their excuse to have Jon kill her since they couldn't even think up a better ending. Before that, are we just going to ignore the fact that Dany actually went against what her father had done, did things for the good of others and cared for those considered 'lesser', and saved basically all of Westeros when she allied with Jon and it was the majority of HER armies and dragons that fought against the WW and NK? She only went 'crazy' when the writers wanted her to, and even that I don't consider canon, due to the fact she was painted as a HERO before they assassinated her entire character and made her go off the deep end and even that I don't view as just 'crazy'.

In the books, she fears becoming like her father, she is compared most to Rhaegar (a character many in the books view as sane and heroic), and she reflects most upon her actions and questions her decisions made. She is a grey character at most, and even still, she is the one character that does the most good and selfless acts in the books compared to everyone else. She wants what is best for her people, she wants to make them happy and give them good lives, and she wants to be a good Queen who isn't just feared or violent to achieve what she wants. She forgoes Westeros to keep in Meereen for her people's safety. She works the hardest to attempt for peace with the Masters without bloodshed or acts of cruelty and she is compassionate, intelligent, and an empathetic woman. She sees suffering and instead of accepting it like everyone else in that world has, she works AGAINST it to save those who do suffer due to her own experiences of suffering and pain. She is, in all, a hero who wants to do good. That doesn't seem very 'crazy' or 'slave master' to me.

Someone should really pick up the books, but I fear that their reading comprehension would be just as bad as their comments on Tik Tok.

[imagineredwood]

The flowers hc was so sweet!!! It was really uplifting as someone who's never had a relationship and hasn't gotten flowers before 😔 how do u think the boys would react if u got them flowers back tho?

Right there with you friend, I've gotten flowers but they've all been platonic or from family. Which is still wonderful, but I know what you mean. I'm virtually sending you the most beautiful flowers you've ever seen 💕

EZ thinks it's absolutely adorable on your part and he enjoys every second of it. He'd be endlessly grateful and thank you over and over. He'd make sure they were right on the counter and he'd keep up on water changes and removing any leaves or petals as they withered.

Coco doesn't exactly know how to react. He's never been subjected to much kindness, never mind such a gentle gesture as flowers. He's a little iffy at first, and has a touch of machismo added because why would you give a man flowers. But he's thankful for them no less. Not as outwardly loved by them, he'd be nonchalant about it. But you'd still find him randomly going up and smelling them, touching the smooth petals when he thinks you're not looking.

He too thinks it's very sweet and cute like EZ. The flowers themselves, he doesn't really care about, but it's the gesture. It might've been his first time getting any and at his age, he isn't all that used to being surprised, yet here you are. He would be very appreciative and likely buy you an even bigger one in return, then put yours right next to his.

It makes him feel warm and weird. He doesn't exactly know how to respond. Tries to make a joke or lighthearted comments to take away from the fact that he's overwhelmed by the show of love. It's not exactly his style, yet that's what makes him love it even more. Words evade him a bit but his smile and caution setting them up in the vase tells you all you need to know.

He's flattered. Not embarrassed in the slightest. Probably makes some kind of joke about finally being the one to be spoiled. He's grateful and asks for your help setting them up even though he doesn't need any. Definitely buys you the most ridiculous bouquet the next day.

Like Coco, tries to play it cool, maybe act like he doesn't care that much. But he can't hide his smile and you can tell in his eyes and touches how thankful he is and how much he appreciates it, even if his mouth doesn't.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera  @woahitslucyylu  @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts  @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95  @cruzwalters @myakai13   @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous    @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady @choochoo284 @whitetxilwxlf @ravennaortiz @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Mayans MC taglist 

@dazzledamazon  @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @darklingveracruz @appropriate-writers-name  @blessedboo  @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @xonickibaby @myakai13 @cruzwalters  @po3ticb3auty  @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @kaykaysuh @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous  @lovelytricia @carma-fanficaddict