#I can’t even begin to imagine what living in other countries is like

[yaboy-miz]

Fun fact!

The U.S. last officially declared war in 1942 against Austria in world war 2! Every war we’ve had since has not been formally declared because our government can still send over military forces and support without declaring war!

Additional fun fact, the United States has been in a constant state of war since long before I was born without officially declaring any of it! My entire senior class and at least 3 graduating classes before us have never known the US in a state of peace!

[diremoone]

princess gone… pirate?

a brief jump back onto the jjk bandwagon lol. i couldn’t get this blurby idea out of my head. but wow this turned out longer than i expected??

Imagine the famed Pirates! Gojo and Geto getting the shock of their lives one day when the princess they were hired to kidnap for another kingdom ends up a stowaway on their ship.

They’re immediately confused just as much as they are sympathetic to your plight once you admit your situation to them and how you got onto their ship.

But the last thing they expected was to hear that you were the one that put up the bounty on your own head.

Yeah, that would send anyone for a loop.

So you end up working for them, even after you give them the lump sum of money promised to them. You spend half a week in the kitchens and the other half on the deck cleaning, getting to know the way of the life of pirates fairly quickly. You even have their help fitting into clothes and word usage more suited to the lifestyle (the latter from Maki herself) of a pirate so no one recognizes you right off the bat.

You assimilate so well over the next few months that you’re far too busy to notice that the captains of the ship have taken a liking to you—a very deep liking, in fact. No longer are there just sparks between them, but they’re there for you as well.

And slowly, they begin to integrate themselves into your busy schedule (a schedule that gradually becomes less busy because no one can tell you off because you’re with their captains). They learn your favorite drink, favorite food, that you really aren’t a fan of any type of beverage that might get you drunk or gets anyone else drunk.

Every town they visit for stocking up on supplies, Suguru always brings you back a couple new books to read to cure boredom over the long trips and days at sea. He makes sure to keep a list of the ones he buys so he doesn’t accident them twice, or just in case you want to read the same book again but can’t remember the name.

Satoru always brings you new food to try when he’s sure that no one will recognize who you are, allowing you to experience things beyond what the cold castle walls gave you. He brings you to meet some of his friends and family that remain on the islands or other countries so they can get to know his future wife you better.

And in turn, you get to know them better. You know that Satoru has a sweet tooth for the ages, that Suguru likes to braid the hair of his adoptive girls and is very good at it, that the two have been together ever since they were teenagers and have been inseparable since.

Which is why you’ve thrown aside any possibilities with being romantically involved with either of them.

Unfortunately, it’s that little crevice of doubt that allows trouble to step in and strike, by the hands of none other that Naoya Zen’in himself: an infamous pirate that conquered an entire kingdom within a day and made himself the new ruler, plundering everything and making slaves of everyone as far as the country’s border reached.

That little seed of doubt is what allowed Naoya to capture you while gathering new supplies, taking you away from the two men that had sworn off war with other pirates—men that had sworn off war because it was what they knew best.

And while you knew that the two would come for you, as did Naoya, neither of you knew the utter carnage that would follow from your kidnapper’s mistake.

[thelittleukrainianwell-armedgirl]

"On 7th of January Ukrainian poet Maksym Kryvtsov and his ginger cat were killed by rssian army on the frontline. He was 33 years old. He was writing poems about the war and his loyal cat friend, while protecting his homeland. He could create so much if russia would not start this unjust horror.

Every time something inside me dies when I see news like this. Every Ukrainian from the beginning of their time in school learns about Executed Renaissance - when on the beginning of 20th century a lot of Ukrainian artists, writers, poets were chased and executed by Soviet Union for creating works in Ukrainian and expressing their national identity. Now it’s happening again, same evil, but under different flag. Besides occupation of our land russia also often talks about how Ukraine is fake country with fake language, they burn our books on occupied territories, mock us, our POWs for the fact we’re ukrainian. They were mocking us even before the invasion, I grew up with watching it on social medias myself. And now a lot of authors can’t create because of the war, russia kills them on frontlines, in their homes, russia purposefully targets objects of civilian infrastructure to leave us without heat and electricity. It pisses me off every time when I see russian “culture” being praised by the foreigners, knowing that it’s made on blood of other nations. Either 100 years ago or now. Because while russian authors can live and create, we have fight for our survival.

Before being killed by russia Maksym published his last poem, where he told about how his body will grow as violets after his death. Every time it’s hard to draw something about the war, I feel literally empty afterwards but I just felt it would be right thing to do. It’s awful that our artists have to go through all of this, so damn unfair, and I keep telling myself that justice is waiting for them but I can’t even imagine what has to happen, everything feels not enough.

Please support Ukrainian authors, until it’s too late."

(c) @ fate_221

[dailyanarchistposts]

A friend of mine, a Trump supporter, recently sent me a social media post from an anonymous Seattle police officer about the “organized protest” zone, or autonomous zone, established by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement in the city’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. The officer argues, in part, that “there is a part of our country that is no longer under our control,” and that “we [the police] have been castrated.” The post is mostly filed with misinformation, that the protest space has its own currency, ID system, and that the former police precinct, abandoned by the mayor and the city at the height of the protests, is being used as a BLM headquarters – no doubt a kind of black witches coven in their imagination. Indeed, in the language used in the post, “terrorists” and “anarchists” are stock piling “ammo and chemical weapons,” and are headed by a “warlord” who “drives a tesla and has been arrested for drugs, guns, pimping and crimes against children.” The officer concludes that “this is real,” and that “you can’t make this up.” These developments they call “unthinkable.”

The police are not the only ones hysterical at the loss of their station. Right wing media have also chimed in, exacerbating and stoking the fears of the Right. Fox media personality, Tucker Carlson, for example, bloviates on his nightly show that the founders of the Capitol Hill Organized Protest (CHOP) are “just like the conquistadors” because they’ve seized and occupied already established land and are extorting local businesses. Not to be outdone, President Trump, searching for an election year issue, called on the city of Seattle to attack and retake the space. He tweeted angerly, “Take back your city NOW. If you don’t do it, I will. This is not a game. These ugly Anarchists must be stopped IMMEDIATELY.”

What is unthinkable, or was at the beginning of the month, is the power of the Black Lives Matter movement in the streets. The emergence of the autonomous zone is a pinnacle of that power, a significant victory. It demonstrates the ability of popular power to win the impossible from structures of white supremacy – the state and the propertied interests they represent. That victory, and the subsequent diminution of state violence, is a major step forward for community self-control and autonomy. It shows that ending anti-Black violence is the first and most basic step to honoring Black life.

But it is just the beginning. Honoring Black life means constructing a society where Black autonomy and Black power are the cornerstones of community, and one where Black freedom is the foundation for broader, collective liberation. The advent of the movement’s autonomous zone was a step in that direction. Taking the city’s east police precinct demonstrates not only that our movements can win, but we can win previously unimaginable victories for Black lives.

There is another legacy now that must be dealt with from the CHOP. Much uglier, it is about the violence that took one life and left several in critical condition in a series of recent shootings. The shootings and the lack of direction for the space sadly demonstrate that our movements are not yet mature enough to know what to do with victory. As I write, the Seattle police are threatening to retake the building in the wake of the violence.

The shootings happened as the movement languished. With no clear direction, political, strategic, and tactical infighting broke out, reminiscent of Occupy Wall Street’s failures. Questions emerged over whether the encampment was for abolition or reform, taking the police station or not, “autonomy” or remaking existing institutions, marching or occupying, and others. This infighting was rooted in a lack of decision-making process that made even the most basic agreements impossible to gain collective consent.

In the autonomous zone, a diverse flowering of self-activity emerged, a variegated patchwork of mutual aid projects, support, care, and action that reflected the full diversity of the movement’s politics and people. That beautiful moment must not be lost in its downfall, but now with violence in the space, it must also be held within a more complex picture of the movement’s failures as well.

[literary-motif]

Two Weeks

Alex x Reader

You continue sharing an apartment with Alex after he breaks up with you. The past weighs heavily.

“So is this going to be us intensely avoiding each other for as long as I stay here or—?” Alex let his sentence trail off. You did not turn around to face him, silently continuing to make yourself a cup of tea.

It was only for two weeks, after all. Two weeks, and you would be rid of him forever. 

Kicking him out of the apartment had felt like a cruelty you could not bring yourself to do to him. Two weeks had felt like nothing at all, considering the two years you had been together with him. You could continue living with him until his flight went to the US — at least you told yourself you could. 

“What do you want me to say?” you replied dismissively, picking up the cup and turning to face him. “Did you expect everything to stay the same?”

“No!” he said exasperatedly. 

His hair was disheveled. You knew he ran his hands through it repeatedly when he was frustrated. The thought that the situation weighed as heavily on him as it did on you offered you at least a little comfort.

You took a sip of your tea. 

“But I thought we could at least be civil — be friends, even!”

You could not help the incredulous laugh from slipping past your lips. “Friends?” you said, with a humorless chuckle. “Honestly Alex, you’re delusional. What did you think would happen? You broke up with me, telling me you were leaving the country in less than a month! What—? Do you think my life is a joke? Where do you think I— How am I supposed to afford this place alone? Did you think of that, huh? When you told the whole world that you got a prestigious job offer on the other end of the world, did you maybe consider that you were throwing me off the deep end with literally no warning?”

Alex blinked, opening his mouth to reply. He frowned. “You’re well off,” he said, sounding confused. “I never thought that this might be a problem for you. I— I can help you out with rent, I think.”

You shook your head, the fight leaving you with a deep sigh. “Don’t kid yourself,” you said, cradling the warm cup in your hands, “you might make enough to support yourself, but apartments in the States aren’t any cheaper than they are here.”

He sighed as well, leaning against the doorframe and biting his lip. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly sounding small. “I— I swear I didn’t mean to. There was just so much going on that I didn’t consider something so fundamental. I mean, I was uprooting my whole life, losing the person I loved” — the past tense stung — “I didn’t consider how leaving would be a financial problem for you.”

You waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll figure it out,” you mumbled. 

Despite things seeming bleak — finding an affordable apartment in London in two weeks was next to impossible — you were confident that everything would click into place eventually. You could support yourself independently. Working at the law firm gave you enough stability to be alright without him. 

“What you did hurt me more than anything,” you said quietly, staring into your tea. “Part of me understands your reasoning, but being the last to know about the job offer you planned to accept from the beginning when your decision affected my life so much, felt like a betrayal.”

“I know,” he said, rummaging through a cupboard and pulling out a packet of his favorite biscuits. “After you accused me of cheating, I couldn’t— I couldn’t see you the same way.”

“You know I said that on a whim, right?” you said, looking at him. “It was a stupid accusation, and I didn’t believe it when I said it. You were gone so often that I didn’t know how to express my frustration. I thought you would deny it and move on, seeing it as the overreaction that it was. Instead—” you trailed off. “I didn’t know it would hurt you so much.”

He scoffed, taking a bite of his biscuit. “I can’t imagine anyone would brush off such an accusation. How would you have felt?”

“I see that now. Still, just because you were hurt and angry at me, it did not give you the right to shut me out completely like you did. I get that you thought our relationship had changed, but you did not even talk to me about it.”

“I couldn’t, you were too fixed on Natalie!” he said, raising his voice in frustration. “Every time I tried to talk to you, you made some snide comment about how ‘I was always with Natalie’ or how I was ‘going to go see Natalie,’ when I was working on my career! Do you remember what we said when we first met? Our career always comes first. Always!”

“Yes, but I didn’t love you back then!” you screamed. “How— what are we even comparing? I want to further my career. I would seize every opportunity, but never at the expense of our relationship! I— I always thought we would make it work. I imagined you flying from Paris to New York to take snapshots for magazines that would pay a fortune to have your amazing pictures, but you would be a phone call away when I lost a case. You would be here to give me a victory kiss when I won a tough one.”

“Yeah,” he said, holding out the packet of biscuits. You shook your head, and he gave you a sad smile. “I guess life doesn’t work out how we want it sometimes.”

You looked at him for a long moment, trying to find the person you so loved under the cloud of animosity that had hidden him away lately. 

“You know,” you began, taking a sip of your tea to gather the strength for the words you were about to say, “we could still try to work it out if you would be open to giving us another chance.”

Alex bit his lip, searching your gaze. He opened his mouth to reply. 

His phone rang, the caller flashing brightly where it lay on the kitchen table. Natalie. “Sorry, let me just—” he said, picking up the call. “We’ll talk later. I need to take this. Hello?” 

Your face fell. “Don’t bother,” you mumbled, watching him leave the kitchen.

Two weeks. You could do two weeks.

[ithebookhoarder]

Marc and Steven with a Murdock? Like Daredevil?? If you want, of course ❤️🖤

The Moon Boys with a Murdock!Reader

A/N: Of course I want to! 😆 I'm only sorry it took me so long to answer this. However, I seem to be on a roll today - I can't believe I've got two requests out?! Like, who even am I?

Masterlist

As you said with a Murdock, I’m going with a sibling vibe here which would be pretty adorable anyway as Matt would be such a good brother if he’d ever had the chance.

He would be incredibly close with you and take his role as your protector as seriously as he takes his role as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

You’re the only one he lets know his true self as you’ve been through everything he has. You’ve shared the happiest and saddest moments of your lives together and the bond it forged is as strong as vibranium.

It holds you both together, not matter what you go through or where you end up - including when you both end up at colleges on opposite sides of the country. 

You’re extremely careful to never let him pull too far away from you, even when he gets in one of his moods. In fact, you’re sure to turn up and let yourself in to his apartment when he goes too quiet and even Foggy can’t seem to pull him out of the darkness that haunts him. 

It’s why you don’t run away when the Moon Boys come crashing in to your lives. The chaos that seems to follow them and their fears that they are too much for you is honestly familiar. Every attempt to push you away only makes you draw nearer - first as a friend, later as something more. 

You’d probably meet Moon Knight first around New York. I mean, it's kind of hard not to come across him, given what Matt does and how chaos seems to find its way into your lives.

He'd be the latest adoptee into the Defenders / New York 'Avengers reject club' (your name for the gang, not theirs...) so you'd quickly end up involved in each other's lives.

You'd bond pretty quickly, once you get to know one another without the personas and danger. After all, I think Steven would be eager to find friends who aren't necessarily supers and just like to drink coffee, read novels and go to the dog park at the weekend.

He'd be super keen to get to know you. You're one of the only people who get what their life is like, but also have a foot in the real world.

You'd win over Marc later on, wearing him down with your positivity and unwavering optimism (and also Steven will not shut up about you).

You're not afraid of the darker parts of their world, and become a much needed safe space for Marc, once he lets his guard down.

For instance, you'd be great at patching him up - having had enough practise on Matt over the years. You're also used to having someone nocturnal in the house, coming and going at all hours of the night. Plus, you can obviously be trusted to keep a secret or two.

If anything, Marc's only reluctant to let you get close to him as he doesn't want to taint you. To ruin something so bright and wonderful by dragging you into his darkness.

If Matt's ok with putting you in danger, then that's up to him as your brother. You're family. But for Marc and Steven to do that? It's a line they're unwilling to cross... until you prove to them you aren't going anywhere. That you can handle yourself and that you're already in this mess anyway, so why shouldn't you both be happy?

From that moment on, there's no looking back for any of you. You're leaping in to this together head first, and soon enough you can't imagine life any other way.

Matt, however, can.

Let's be real, he wouldn’t be the biggest fan of Steven and Marc. In fact, he’d be pretty against your relationship the minute he finds out about it. 

One, because he thinks no one is worthy of you.

Two, because he hates the idea of you getting hurt or being in danger and being in a relationship with multiple people who all serve an ancient Egyptian deity as his personal vigilante is the very definition of dangerous. 

"I... I can't even begin to understand how you could possibly think this is a good idea? At all? He - they - are literally the puppets of an Egyptian god - a GOD, Y/N. You don't want to get in the middle of all that?"

You quickly remind him how he gave a similar speech to Karen when he found out about her and Frank Castle seeing each other, and that didn't work. Last time you checked, they're still blissfully in love.

"Besides, Matthew! You're the one who goes running around at night, getting in fights, wearing a glorified halloween costume. Like, I am the SANE sibling here. ALSO! Marc and Steven were forced into their situation. They didn't go looking for it like a crazy nut job. So, yeah. I think if anything, you don't have a leg to stand on here!"

Matt would be able to sense who was fronting the moment they appeared. He’d be able to recognise them from the way their heart is beating and their mannerisms the second they stepped through the door, which is helpful but also incredibly unsettling. 

Steven would brush it off, seeing it as Matt just being a kind brother to you. However, I think Marc would have more of a problem with Matt’s hostility, and enhanced senses. It puts him on edge to know they are being so closely scrutinised. 

They also have the same temperament so I can imagine there will be more than a few clashes in the beginning, their similar brusque natures making it hard for them to not bump heads. 

However, after Matt learns about Marc’s DID and his childhood trauma I think he’d be more sympathetic. After all, you both didn’t have the easiest childhood either. 

He also knows what it’s like to live with a condition that can make your life harder but also makes you unique. 

According to the comics, both of them are known to be good detectives and also keen boxers. I can totally see them building a reluctant respect for one another after they realise they have more in common than just their love for you. 

In fact, I know you’d have to pull them out of the ring after Marc agrees to a sparring match with the famous ‘Devil’. The pair of them would get a weird pleasure from trying to beat the other to a pulp - they don’t often find someone evenly matched to have a friendly bout or two with. 

At least it would once again prove to Matt that your boys could definitely take care of you if you ever needed it. 

Matt would definitely be sure to offer his legal advice whenever he’s concerned you both might be skating on thin ice with the law. Apparently, ‘I’m being controlled by an Ancient Egyptian God’ hasn’t ever been tried as a legal defence in the American justice system before… and Matt is oddly willing to try it. 

[pictureinme]

hii i loved your kitten fanfic 🤍 i was wondering if you would be open to write some fluff for her ? maybe comforting her after everything she’s been through and giving her the love she deserves bcs she’s so underrated tbh 😫

of course! thank you for your patience, this definitely sparked a lot more ideas 4 me, so here's a short but sweet thang :-) don't worry, this isn't the last fluff you're gonna get of us taking care of kitten <3

plea for tenderness

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader word count: ~600 tags: pure domestic fluff, established relationship

ao3

The candles lit all around your shared living room bring an almost stifling atmosphere of comfort and romance, but it was truly just the way Kitten liked to light your home. The scent of roses and vanilla permeated the air, and the cool breeze from the window made you sigh happily.

She stretches as the two of you lay on a chaise lounge, tucked away in the corner. Her pink slip rides up on her legs, and you can’t help but think how lucky you are to be with her. Besides her obviously beautiful looks, her passion inspires you. The strength this woman had to have and continues to hold is divine at best.

Kitten catches you staring at her perfect form, and cocks her head, “See something you like, pretty?”

“Always, my love,” you smile widely and kiss her hand, “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

“Hmm, about what we should make for dinner? I was thinkin’ chips, but that’s as far as I got.”

You laugh softly, “Your idea is as golden as ever, but I’m thinking about you, Kitten.”

She smiles and leans down to be next to you proper, “You flatter me, love. What’s on your mind exactly?”

Kitten begins to trace shapes on your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in her wake. You breathe in her signature Chanel scent, feeling it wash over your senses. You admire her like no other.

“Your beauty, your passion… your strength. You absolutely astound me, darling.”

Her head falls back in a loud laugh, reverberating throughout her body, “You’re such a sap! All I’ve done is sit here, and you say such sweet things.”

Eyes crinkling as you smile, you whisper to her, “I mean it, truly, Kitten. All these stories you’ve told me, I know you embellish every now and then, but you…”

You brush a blonde curl away from her face, “You’ve been through hell and back, and I just can’t believe you’re still so you.”

She begins to wrap her arms around you in a loose embrace and sighs softly, “I do tend to embellish, don’t I?”

“And I love it, you’re the best storyteller in this country,” she kisses your forehead as you speak, “You’ve been through it all, but you remain so optimistic. I wish I could have that superpower.”

As you whisper that last part, Kitten looks at you sadly, “Lover, it isn’t a superpower. Life is just too short to waste on silly little things like the past.”

You sit up, looking into her blue eyes, “I know that, but you make it seem so easy! I know that behind the scenes, it isn’t… but I cannot say enough just how proud I am of you, Kitten.”

She smiles, looking anywhere but your eyes, “You’re too good to me, (Y/N).”

“God, you really are a saint, aren’t you?” Shaking your head, you cup her cheek in your hand, “I’m not too good to you, darling. This is what love is supposed to be.”

She meets your gaze, eyes glistening in the dim light, “You’re an angel, aren’t you?”

Before you can even think of responding, she closes the gap and kisses you with the most gentle kiss imaginable. You smile into the kiss, still holding her face in your hand. The two of you become an entanglement of limbs, never once separating your respective lips. The idea of leaving to catch a breath seemed terrible, preposterous at best.

Despite that, Kitten inhales deeply as you two find yourself lacking oxygen.

“I love you, my (Y/N).”

You both share a look that can only be described as pure dedication, “I love you, my Kitten.”

[generalllimaginesss]

Loom

Trevor Zegras imagine based on Zach Bryan’s song Loom…solely my interpretation of the song.

As always there will probably be mistakes, but I hope you enjoy!

Heads up: Jordan is Y/N’s bf

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. Also, I am alive, just going through a different stage of life and trying to find my passion for writing again.

How do I make you fall in love with me?

And how would I let you know I care?

And how would I say that the man your laying with is not the man that should be laying there?

How would a boy like me put it?

A man with some sense probably wouldn’t,

But I don’t give a damn, I am not a smart man

I’m gonna say some words I shouldn’t.

Some would say that Trevor Zegras’ best friend was Jack Hughes, Jamie Drysdale, Cole Caufield, or some random hockey player. That person would be partially correct, Trevor loved all of his friends deeply. However Y/N Y/L held a spot in his heart for best friend. Their families had been close friends since before the two were ever even a thought. They had watched each other grow up and turn into the young adults that they were today.

Where Trevor was outgoing and charismatic, Y/N was laid back and reserved. They balanced each other out in the most perfect way. Trevor’s flirty personality was something that the girl had grown used to, she didn’t take him seriously when he commented on her body, or made advances. That was Trevor, and there was no changing that.

Things started to change, however, when Y/N started dating somebody in college. Trevor had been drafted by the Ducks, so the two really only saw the each other on random FaceTime calls or holidays when they both happened to be home. Y/N lived clear across the country, but she loved watching her best friend show out in Anaheim.

“What are you doing?” Trevor’s voice echoed from Y/N’s phone throughout her apartment. Trevor had just gotten home from a game, his hair still wet from the shower he took, but his FaceTime with Y/N was a priority.

“I’m cleaning up. Jordan is on his way and I don’t want the apartment to look like a wreck,” she explained as she wiped the kitchen counters.

“Why the hell is he still in the picture? I thought we had a conversation about his douchey tendencies,” Trevor questioned as he began to play his Xbox.

“I don’t know, he’s just what I envisioned as my future. We’ve got similar beliefs, he loves my family, he’s kinda hot….there’s just something about him that I can’t let go of,” Y/N rambled on as she lit a candle. She walked back over to her phone, only her forehead showing on the camera, and watched as Trevor bit his lip in concentration.

He was acting like the whole ordeal was strictly a worried best friend, but in reality it ate him alive that his best friend was being treated like she was replaceable. In Trevor’s eyes she was far from replaceable. There would never be anybody that could take that place in his life, and he prayed to God that he could show her how she deserved to be treated.

“He’s a fucking prick, Y/N. I mean he went golfing with his buddies when your grandmother died. Who was left picking up the pieces? Me,” Trevor rolled his eyes just thinking about that instance where he realized how shitty of a boyfriend Jordan was.

“In his defense, we had only been dating for a few weeks. Like, that’s a lot of emotion for the beginning of a relationship, so I get it. It would have been awkward,” Y/N defended him, resulting in Trevor tossing his remote to the side and looking at Y/N.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. I’m almost positive that he’s only with you because you’re hot and gave him sex the first date,” Trevor couldn’t stop it from rolling off his tongue. As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to grab them back and destroy them. He knew Y/N confided in him about intimate things in her life, and for him to be throwing them in her face broke and unspoken rule.

“Fuck you, Trevor,” Y/N’s voice rose slightly as a tear threatened to spill out of her eye.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he tried to apologize, but Y/N was having none of it.

“Yes you did, dumbass,” she responded as she ended the call.

Trevor didn’t know how to go about these emotions with his best friend, but all he knew was that he had to do something about it. He couldn’t take it out on her or anybody that had interest in her.

And I had a dream I was falling

And maybe that’s a fucked up metaphor

Maybe it just means, when I meet you in my dreams

Nothing stops me from going through the floor

Almost a week had passed from the time that Trevor had a word vomit and the present day. There had been a few messages between the two since then, but not the regular communication that the two were used to. Trevor had finished a workout and could not get her off of his mind. No matter what, all he could see was her face of hurt from his poor word choice.

As soon as he got home, he crashed on the couch. His muscles and mind were exhausted from a long day’s work.

He didn’t know if it was because she was weighing on his mind so heavily, or if it was because he was so tired, but he dreamt of a life where him and Y/N were totally in love.

“I’m gonna marry you one day, Y/L/N,” he held her in his arms and kissed her temple. She tasted sweet, like the vanilla body wash that she always used. He swore he could smell strawberries in her hair, a few pieces lingering on his face as he pulled away and looked at her.

“And what makes you so sure of that, Z?” She playfully bantered back. Her cheeks were rosy, but it could have been from the summer sun that they had been in all day.

“Because nobody will ever love you the way I do,” he whispered as he closed in on her light pink lips.

Before the kiss had finished, Trevor jolted awake. The sound of Jamie closing the door interrupting his slumber. He had been out cold for a good 3 hours, sweat drenching the curls that covered the nape of his neck.

“You good, Z?” Jaime asked from across the living room.

“No, man. I don’t think I am,” he groaned as he got up, patting Jaime on the shoulder and heading to his room. He climbed into his bed while scrolling through his phone, hoping to see his best friend’s name pop up on something. He reread their last texts going over plans for their summer break coming up. They weren’t the normal talks of exciting things, but discussing who was and wasn’t going to be there. The only thing that could make matters worse was the fact that Jordan would be there for a wedding that they were all invited to.

Trevor plugged his phone in on his nightstand and tried to go back to sleep as best as he could, but the thought of his girl made the task feel impossible. He settled for staring at the ceiling fan until it lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

And I know all the bad things about you

But I still think you’re the purest of our kind

I remember being younger with an awful pining hunger

For a good that a boy could never find

And the fear of a man still left behind

Trevor always thought he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he fell in love with his best friend, but the plane ride back to Bedford gave him plenty of time to rethink that. All of the memories of growing up with the girl seemed to pass as a blur, but he could remember one night that the two were playing truth or dare with a group of friends. The two of were probably 15, at most, going through that awkward stage of freshman year and trying to figure out who they were were.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Trevor displayed a devilish grin as she rolled her eyes and groaned.

She gave it a considerable thought. Trevor knew some pretty embarrassing things about her. He knew that she carried her childhood blanket everywhere she went until she was twelve. He knew that she was the one that stole her grandfather’s dentures and tried to put them in the dog’s mouth. He knew every single guy that she claimed to have a crush on, so she definitely knew what she wouldn’t pick.

“Dare, but please go easy on me, jerk,” she practically begged her best friend. Nothing could prepare her for what he decided, however.

“Kiss me,” he smiled as the whole group of friends giggled and pushed Y/N towards him.

Trevor thought back to how it was a simple peck on the lips, but he distinctly remembered the nerves in his stomach and the race of his heart after it happened.

Y/N had immediately wiped it off and ran to wash her mouth under the sink, leaving the group in fits of laughter. Everybody except Trevor, of course. He kept his appearance of the clown of the group, continuing on with the game like he didn’t just steal his best friend’s first kiss.

The sound of the captain of the plane interrupted his thoughts, announcing the plane’s landing in LaGuardia. Trevor took one AirPod out as everybody began to get their carry on bags and joined in the jostling in the aisle.

After picking up his checked bag, he began to look for his brother’s car outside of the airport. Immediately, he spotted his little brother, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing Y/N standing beside him, sporting a wide smile with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

He gave his brother a hug and then turned to Y/N, rolling his eyes as he forced her into a hug. She gave up her tough persona and buried her head into his shoulder, squeezing back.

“I thought you were still pissed at me, to be honest,” he let go of her and ruffled her hair.

“I was for a while, but I had to keep the surprise so I just kept it up,” she admitted and stuck her tongue out at him. Griffin let his older brother drive and Y/N sit in the passenger seat.

Maybe, just maybe, Trevor might have a chance with his best friend. He pined for that feeling he had at 15.

So I guess I’ll just love you from the window

While you’re dancing with the charmers in the room

And I’ll sneak out that door like I have a time before

And just let that lost love loom

And just let that list love loom

Summer was going amazing, that is until Jordan showed up the day before Y/N’s cousin’s wedding. Trevor knew this was inevitable, but the disappointment was there nonetheless. Hearing his best friend laugh with him, watching them sneak kisses when they thought no one was looking, the whole thing made Trevor sick to his stomach. One, because it was actually disgusting to watch the douche kiss his girl, but two, because that should have been Trevor. Trevor swore that she laughed more genuine with just himself though. He smiled at the thought.

The next day came quickly. The Zegras family had gotten dressed and drove to the Y/L/N’s house to help with anything they could. Y/N’s mom was grabbing last minute details that she had been responsible for, so Julie began to help.

Trevor was making small talk with Griffin when he glanced up the stairs and saw Y/N coming down. His breath hitched for a second, but he let out a slightly audible groan when he saw Jordan walking down behind her. Griffin shot a confused look at his brother, but shook it off.

The families loaded up into a few vehicles and made their way to the venue. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception was so much fun. At least at first.

The DJ had been playing upbeat songs that everybody was dancing to, but as the night progressed the first slow song began. Trevor left the dance floor to go outside and sit at one of the tables that was set up. He could still see everything that was happening through a window, hearing the slow song continue. He thought he would be ok, but when he saw Jordan and Y/N swaying to the music he felt a surge of jealousy rise up. He wanted to march in there, tell Jordan to go to hell, and steal Y/N. He watched Y/N, her dress swaying with the movement of her body. The lights gave her a sort of glow. Trevor longed to be the one holding her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“I know I have no say in the matter, but I do wish that something would have come from the two of you’s relationship,” Y/N’s dad startled Trevor, eliciting a chuckle at the reaction.

Trevor gave off a sigh and turned to the man that was practically his second dad.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but me too,” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at Jordan and Y/N. The slow dance was coming to an end, but Trevor really wanted to get this off his chest, even if it was just with Y/N’s dad.

“I love her a lot, Trevor. She’s my only girl,” Her dad laughed and slug an arm around Trevor’s shoulders, “But she has been so oblivious to your feelings,” the man gave Trevor a squeeze.

“Have I really been that obvious?” Trevor’s cheeks were burning, especially when Shut Up and Dance With Me by WALK THE MOON started playing and he watched as Y/N was looking around the room, desperately trying to find her best friend. This had been their song since 8th grade homecoming, and there was no way she was going to let it play without dancing with Trevor.

“Extremely,” Y/N’s dad chuckled, “My opinion counts for nothing, but I think you should tell her.”

Trevor smiled at the idea, but he didn’t even know where to begin with that. Was it really worth ruining their friendship? A 22 year long friendship?

“I think, for now at least, things are better left unsaid,” Trevor responded.

“If that’s what you think, then that’s what you think,” The older man laughed as he watched his daughter stomp towards them.

The conversation was interrupted as Y/N stepped in between the two men.

“There’s no way in hell that you’re getting off without dancing with me to this song,” She grabbed Trevor by the hands and pulled him onto the dance floor. The two danced hard, sweat beading on their foreheads as the song played.

Trevor’s personality was shining through his dance moves, and Y/N was letting him have his moment. Neither one of them were thinking of Jordan until the song ended and her boyfriend tapped Trevor on the shoulder.

“I’d like to steal my girlfriend back,” he slurred slightly, totally oblivious of Trevor’s feelings toward him. Y/N squealed as Jordan took her to a corner of the venue, placing kisses on her cheeks and lips. Trevor had made his way toward Griffin, but not before seeing Jordan whispering in Y/N’s ear, something that made Y/N blush and giggle.

Trevor couldn’t watch it anymore. He found Griffin, let his parents know that they were leaving, and made their way back home.

His mind was in a cycle of asking himself if he should tell his best friend his feelings, to reasoning why that would be the worst idea, to genuinely being curious if something would come of it. Maybe this feeling is better left hanging between the two.

How do I make you fall in love with me?

Is it lost in the emptiness of apathy?

Should I fight for it like war, should I nail it down to boards

Or do I live in a love I’m dying for?

“I should have listened to you,” Y/N admitted to Trevor, snuggled to his side on the couch as some random movie played in the background. The thunderstorm outside provided the perfect ambience for a cozy movie day with Trevor.

Y/N had found text messages that Jordan had sent to girls while the two had been together. Messages that revealed that she was not the only girl occupying his mind and bed.

“I’m not going to say I told you so, but I do recall a conversation that went a little like me explaining how he was a douche,” Trevor mindlessly twirled her hair around his finger.

“I know you’re so satisfied with being able to say that,” Y/N rolled her eyes. She should have listened to Trevor. She was never going to admit that, but it was true. There were many red flags that she put blinders to, and in the end it bit her in the butt. It really hurt, but Y/N knew in a small place in her heart that Jordan wasn’t the one. He was fun, but he didn’t have everything that Y/N was looking for. The relationship was on the downhill stretch, so his cheating just sped things up a bit.

“I’m not satisfied. I wish he didn’t put you through this,” Trevor corrected his friend. He didn’t want to rub it in her face, but he wanted her to know that he cared. He cared before the relationship, he cared while they were dating, and he’s going to care when she can’t remember his name anymore.

“Is it terrible that him cheating gave me an excuse to break up with him? I wanted him to do something to end it. Like yeah, we had sex every now and then, but it just feels like after the wedding things started to fizzle out,” Y/N admitted as she picked her fingernails, a habit that she picked up at an early age to deal with conversations and feelings that were hard.

“If that’s how you feel, then no, it’s not terrible. You feel what you feel. You can’t help that,” Trevor reassured her.

“I just wish somebody would love me for me. I wish that somebody could match my energy, or maybe just not cheat? I don’t know, I feel like that’s not asking much,” She chuckled and wiggled around to get more comfortable.

Trevor grinned at his friend. “Y/N Y/L/N, why don’t you just ask me on a date,” he half joked, but a small part of him was serious. It didn’t matter, though, because Y/N let out a laugh at him, and her laughter was the most important thing right now.

“In your dreams, Z,” She flashed him a smile and focused her attention back on the tv in front of them.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, not expecting her to hear it.

“What?” Her head snapped at him as his eyes grew wide.

Was now his chance to finally admit his feelings? Should he give her a chance to get over her relationship she just got out of? He didn’t have much time to decide, so he let his mouth take over.

“Look, you’re dad already knows,” Trevor sighed as he began to admit his feelings.

“Already knows what, exactly?” The confusion was written all over Y/N’s face.

“I think I just need to wait to tell you this,” Trevor tried to drop the conversation, but Y/N wasn’t budging.

“No, you made the comment, so you have to explain it. I’m fine. I don’t need you to tip-toe around me,” Y/N explained as she gave the boy her full attention.

“Ok, well I’m going to lay these feelings out there, but please don’t freak out. I’m always going to be your best friend no matter what,” With those words, both of their hearts began to speed up.

“Just say it, Z,” Her patience was wearing thin with the boy.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since I stole your first kiss. The thought of another guy being with you makes me sick. Like physically makes me feel like I want to vomit. You say you want somebody to match your energy, but I’m the exact opposite of you and we’ve been inseparable since birth. You have this idea of what you want, and it sucks because never once did you consider me in that. Like is this hopeless? Could anything possibly come from this?” Trevor lost control of what he was saying. Every feeling that crossed his brain regarding his best friend was spoken. In a way it was relieving, but the fear of being rejected quickly took place.

“Z…” Y/N was speechless. Never in a million years did she expect her best friend since birth to admit he loved her. She truly didn’t know what to say.

“Well say something. I just told you I loved you, so I’m gonna need a little more elaboration than just ‘Z’,” Trevor was desperate for her to say something.

“You just laid it out there huh,” Y/N snickered.

“Right there on the floor, yep,” Trevor raised his eyebrows and bit the inside of his cheek. For the first time in his life, he wanted to crawl in a deep dark hole and die there. Die a recluse that didn’t admit to loving his best friend.

“Wow,” Y/N took a deep breath in. Things had never been awkward between the two in their whole life, but this was painfully awkward. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t love Trevor, she did. And truth be told, she had a slight crush on him growing up. However, she got over it. That wasn’t to say that she couldn’t open up to the idea of a relationship with Trevor, but it would have to take time to unfold.

“I’m leaving,” Trevor began to put his shoes on and stuffed his keys in his pocket when Y/N grabbed his arm.

“Just hold on. I know you’re feeling embarrassed telling me this, but think about me hearing it. That was the last thing I expected you to say today. I’m just shocked, that’s it,” She became aware of her hand wrapped around his forearm, pulling him back on the couch.

"I wish I never told you,” He ran his fingers through his hair, strands going in many different directions. He situated himself next to you once more, his leg bouncing at a rapid rate once he stilled.

“Trevor, I mean this with the utmost respect….shut the hell up.”

If your words didn’t catch his attention, then your side eye most definitely did.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He sighed, resting his head on the back of the couch. He steadied his breathing, waiting for your voice to pierce through the silence in the room.

“I love you, too.”

Trevor’s interest piqued, rotating his body so that he is completely facing you. He could tell you had more to say, so he let you.

“I’ve loved you for 22 years. I mean, not that I can remember much when we were younger, but I know you’ve always been my very best friend. I’ve gone through phases where I thought you were cute, I used to think any girl that you hung out with was a threat to our friendship. I remember our first middle school dance…I told your date your favorite color was neon green so she’d wear that awful dress,” You chuckled as you recalled that night. It definitely ended with his date telling her mom that Trevor was cheating on her with you. You were 12.

“You didn’t, Y/L…”

The corners of his mouth were curving upward as the memory played in his head.

“Oh, I did. I remember the first time I met Jack and Cole…you were jealous that me and Jack had hit it off so you told him about me throwing up the first time I had to give a presentation in speech. I was so mad at you, but you guys lost the game that night because you missed a goal. I promised myself that night that I would take the responsibility of being louder than your thoughts. You beat yourself up so bad for days after that, but all I could think about was that you saw a sunflower growing in a random field and decided to pull over and pick it for me that day. You are the most selfless person I know. You are the hardest on yourself, and you use your humor to deflect that. I know that you worry everyday if you’re truly good enough to be playing at the level you’re at,” You brought your thumb up to wipe away a tear that was puddling in the corner of his eye.

Trevor knew everything you were saying was true. He was jealous when you met Jack because he knew that Jack was capable of getting all of the girls. And he could have all of them, just not you. He also remembered that car ride home from practice when he was driving home from practice and there was a single sunflower in the middle of nowhere. That was your favorite flower. Maybe it was a sign?

“Trevor Zegras, I can’t promise that I can be in a relationship right away. But what I can promise is that I can learn to be a different role for you. Don’t you ever have regrets. I love you, you idiot,” You ruffled his hair and pulled his cheek to your lips.

Cheekily, at the last second he turned his head and smashed his lips on yours. You both smiled into the kiss, but when you pulled away you thumped his ear as hard as you could.

He winced, but flashed a cheeky grin, “That was for 15-year-old me…”

“I hate you,” the two of you laughed.

As the rain kept pouring and the candles scattered around the room flickered, you both were consumed in your own thoughts. Would this complicate things? Probably. But relationships were difficult anyway. Might as well figure it out together.

*

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*I would also like to say that I’m stuck between going ahead and posting the second part of Reasons to Stay and making it a tiny series or just writing a long ass piece. I have no creativity for anything else though. I also wrote the majority of this before Jaimie was traded and just didn’t want to go back and change that.*

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group J Round 1: #J4 vs #J5

#J4: Kids conquering dungeons to change the world

A Magi is a magician whose inclination toward magic is so immense that they can be said to shape the world. With their significant influence, each Magi chooses a worthy candidate to become a king, then helps them conquer strange labyrinths called "Dungeons" and acquire the power of mythical djinns within. Above all else, the Magi supervises their elected representative as they build a country that might one day bring the world to its knees.

Aladdin is a young Magi wandering the world in search of his true self. However, his journey is not a lonely one, as he is accompanied by his friend and mentor Ugo—a djinn he summons using his flute. On his travels, Aladdin also befriends Alibaba Saluja and guides him to a nearby Dungeon. With this newfound friendship, they begin an epic adventure across the world, witnessing various irregularities that seem more frequent than ever.

#J5: Girls live in a school, but not by choice

Carefree high school senior Yuki Takeya looks forward to the School Living Club every day. Consisting of the president Yuuri Wakasa, the athletic Kurumi Ebisuzawa, the mature Miki Naoki, the supervising teacher Megumi Sakura, and club dog Taroumaru, the club prides itself on making the most of life at school. There is only one rule the club members have to follow: all members must live their entire lives within school grounds.

[Admin: I didn’t notice it while screening the submissions, but the submitter’s original trailer and tagline contained MAJOR spoilers for episode 1. Luckily, I’ve watched this show before, so I can edit it safely.]

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#J4: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic

Propaganda 1:

Imagine characters from Arabian Nights/1001 Nights coming to life in an anime. Even though it is loosely inspired off of the tales, it is a unique time and place from most anime settings. It has action, humor, and deep concepts. One of my favorite parts about Magi is how well-developed the background characters are.

Propaganda 2:

This anime has a lot of philosophical takes on what fate is. Basically, is everything that happened to you caused by a force you can’t control or is it what you make of it? Is there something or rather someone pulling the strings on what should or shouldn’t be? Is the person you are because you were lucky or unlucky to be born in the wealthy family or not? Why are things the way they are? Why was I dealt with a shitty hand in life? Is it because I’ll never amount to anything, or is something doing this to me? Why are we here just to suffer kind of deal, but you know not the meme version, the really sad and real version. Then you have the side of the people who may have not had the best life, but found a way out of it. Why do some people get to feel the light when you went through the same thing, but still lost and in the dark?

Trigger Warnings: Partial nudity and slavery. One of the mains is a slave in the beginning, but the other two mains help free her from that.

#J5: School-Live! (Gakkougurashi!)

[Admin: The official trailer spoils ep1, so here, have the opening instead.]

Propaganda:

If you like Madoka Magica, you’ll 100% like this series. It’s hard to explain without spoilers, but it has a huge plot twist in the first episode. The anime is a short one with only 12 episodes, but it has an amazing manga as well! It mixes a cute slice of life high school anime with a darker plot, and it’s handled so well. It doesn’t seem like it’s just dark for the sake of being edgy like some other similar series. It covers topics like mental health and grief well, and it has as happy of an ending as possible for a series like this. The plot twists were executed so well, and I was sobbing by the end of the series.

Trigger Warnings: Animal Cruelty or Death, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Derealization.

[Admin: I had to remove the submitter’s explanations for the TWs because it will spoil the show greatly. You're on your own now. Proceed at your own risk.]

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

The Kill: To Come Fully Alive in Your Female Body is to Know How to Give Death Like a Country Woman Who Knows How to Process Her Home-Grown, Organically-Raised Chickens When It's Time

How I Reprogram My Cells With New Narratives Using My Imagination and After Care (My Gift to Readers On Tumblr)

I'm almost 48 years old and every month my body releases a healthy beautiful egg because it is still trying to have a big chunky baby.

I'm not peri-menopausal yet but will be using this year to reprogram my tissues with new narratives around menopause beyond the dehydrating stories I can feel trapped in my female line. The keycode here is that it takes time so you must begin now....early.

I'm deeply a strategic and proactive woman in all my fairy playfulness and do not dissociate from any cycle of my body or womanhood in any way. Instead I spend time reprogramming my cells and lovingly planting new narratives into my body, in this case, around the experience of menopause. No doctor will prescribe pills or other substances for my natural female cycles that I have already falling in love with. The keycode here is that your love for the process is essential.

I find comfort in the present moment and I also find comfort in imagining and projecting into the future. I do not fear menopause. I do not hold common expectations that it will be difficult or dry out my pussy or my libido will fall as the culture teaches. I am clear that I won't need hormonal medication. I consciously use my energy to envision myself in the details of what I desire in life as a radiant, flexible, wet, high libido, sassy, symptom-free menopausal woman. But I don't just envision, I feel the emotions of being radiant, flexible, wet, etc. OUR EMOTIONS CONNECT US INTO THE UNIVERSE.

I am often lightyears ahead of what we call "time." Ancient-future. I am planting cosmic seeds now BEFORE my menopause years and continue to take action in the desired direction through staying active and continuing to work on my flexibility and inner beauty—forgiving, clearing, letting go, and dreaming. “Yoh, the fuck you mean ‘wait and see, ’” I thought to myself after a woman waiting in line with me at the airport said that menopause will be the worst time of my life. I responded back in the gentlest manner, " Ma'am, my menopause will not be difficult and I will not feel hot nor lose my high libido.” Haha I said that to her and continued, “I'm not an average woman and anm already programming my future menopausal years in which I rest well at night and wake up aroused for the day. I appreciate your well-intentioned words but they do not apply to me nor do I consent to that experience. I’m such a weird one—not regular. Never been.” The keycode here is that you must be willing to cut people off at the neck who subtly lead life from a victimized position about their own bodies and attempt to place that same energy onto you, even with well-meaning intentions. She was a lovely woman otherwise —and I knew she meant well but I also knew that she giving me feedback on what lives deep in my body, in the hidden and unconscious. I can’t see it but I felt it in our interaction. Therefore I wasn’t really metaphorically cutting HER neck off. I was starting the journey of severing the part of my female lineage that feels the same way as she does. I will repeat this process over and over again in my imagination, then begin the journey of self-soothing my tissues and nervous system with lots of intentional massage, juicing, and rest. What we give death to is still a valuable part that our psyches will miss interacting with, a part that up to now has made us feel safe and held. Lots of self-soothing and letting our tissues know that we will be okay without this aspect of self are essential after care.

I always ask the earth for support and speak my desires into the orange trees as I'm picking fruit, walking through a park, or hiking. The keycode here is that you need initiate support from another divine authority, whether nature, God, your ancestors, etc.

I permit myself to see my future menopausal self being juicy and abundant.

I have always lived my life this way--often 2-3 steps ahead of the game, laughing and playing a lot along the way.

Too many women and other female bodied people are stuck and trapped by the trauma they have programmed to believe about themselves (their cells). It's important that you remember who you are--a magical woman and experience this reality lightheartedly, playfully, and magically accordingly. The keycode here is that your playfulness and lightheartedness help to release any resistances. They become your fuel and battery propelling you forward into your next level or landing you directly into a quantum leap.

Maybe you aren’t concerned about menopause yet but you can apply these key codes to any other aspects of your life. --India Ame'ye, Author

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 13 (final)

and all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for king of my heart, body and soul and all at once, you're all i want, i’ll never let you go

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: it’s a year later, and ben has a special surprise in store for your birthday <3 warnings: just some suggestive content! word count: 3.3k

see my masterlist for previous chapters

a/n: we’ve reached the end! (how fitting that it’s chapter 13 if i have any taylor fans here!) i’ve loved writing this story so much and am so appreciative of all your lovely feedback. as some of you have asked, i definitely plan to write more ben fics and have some in the works already! but my inbox is always open so feel free to shoot me a request if you have something in mind and i’ll see what i can do :)

-

one year later...

The next year of your life, thankfully, is significantly less hectic and stressful than the one before it.

The Euros come to a close, and although the boys lose by one missed penalty kick yet again, there is a lot to be proud of. You know how frustrating it is for Ben to be so close to victory and watch it slip away, but you try to remind him that he went from being unable to walk to helping his country advance to a European final within months. It was an incredible feat, and you won’t let him forget that.

He’s back in the swing of the pre-season with Chelsea shortly after. As the season begins, you resume your routine of going to see him play at the Bridge, often with Charlotte or your brother Max tagging along.

You still worry like crazy whenever you see him lunge for the ball or watch him get fouled, but those fears do subside over time. He has an amazing season, often proving himself to be one of the best players on the pitch, and eventually the injury that plagued him for so many months feels like a distant memory.

You have your own triumphs at work, too - by spring, you’ve secured a major promotion with a significant raise. Ben rents out an entire rooftop bar to celebrate you, inviting your family and all of your friends. It’s completely over-the-top, but you love him for it.

There are challenges, too, of course.

Charlotte gets offered a fancy new job in New York that is too good an opportunity to pass up. You know she has to go, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less when the day comes that she has to pack up and move across the world.

She’s been your best friend as long as you can remember, and you’ve never lived apart from her. You can visit each other and FaceTime every day, but it won’t be the same.

She and Mason decide to call it quits rather than try long distance, and although it’s an amicable breakup, it’s hard to watch your little group fall apart.

“It will be okay,” Ben murmurs in your ear, hugging you close after you’ve just dropped Charlotte off at the airport. “I know you’ll miss her, but you guys will always be best friends.”

“I know,” you mumble against his chest, letting his warmth and the gentle motion of his hands rubbing your back soothe you as you fight back tears. “It just sucks right now.”

Ben nods and kisses your forehead, pulling back to cup your face.

“I know I can’t replace Charlotte, but we can go home right now and drink rosé and watch Sex and the City if it will make you feel better,” Ben offers.

You can’t help but smile at that - Ben always poked fun at you and Charlotte’s Thursday night routine, and it’s not exactly his cup of tea, but he would do anything to cheer you up right now.

“Thank you, babe.”

Another Premier League season comes to an end, and you and Ben are stronger than ever.

You’ve settled nicely into a domestic routine since you officially moved in over a year ago now. You decorate the house and start hosting dinner parties for your friends. It’s hard to imagine the certified bachelor Ben was when you met him being so into helping you make dinner or arranging flowers for the table, but you can tell how much he loves it (even if he’ll insist you did all the work when your guests arrive).

You‘ve grown particularly close with each other’s families, too. Ben’s sister Alex will come visit on weekends and you’ll take her shopping before going to one of Ben’s games or a concert or whatever else might be going on that weekend. Max comes up for a week to tour universities, and Ben goes with him to check out the campuses while you’re at work.

In early June, you face another milestone - your 25th birthday.

It’s a bittersweet day for you. On one hand, you’re thrilled that Ben is home and able to celebrate with you for the first time in your relationship. Football kept him away for the past 2 years, international training and then the Euros occupying him. You know he felt terrible about it, although you assured him a million times it wasn’t his fault, and he seems quite excited to be able to make it up to you this year.

On a much sadder note, you and your dad had made plans to go to Paris for your 25th birthday back when you were a little girl obsessed with the Madeline books. You didn’t have a ton of money growing up, but he had promised you that he would make it work, and it was incredibly painful for both of you when he got sick and you knew you would never make it to Paris together.

Although there’s a bit of a pang in your chest when you wake up the morning of your birthday, it does fade when you smell coffee and freshly baked pastries.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of your shirtless boyfriend holding a breakfast tray, a wide smile on his face.

“Good morning, birthday girl,” Ben says, placing the tray next to you before leaning over to kiss you gently. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you,” you smile, making room for him to sit next to you and admiring the array of pastries and fresh fruits he’s laid out for you. “This looks amazing, Ben.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, babe,” Ben grins, pecking your cheek. “I have two years of birthdays to make up for, remember?”

You laugh and roll your eyes affectionately as you take a big bite.

“In that case, what have you got planned for me?” you ask inquisitively with a mouthful of croissant, making Ben chuckle.

He reaches into his bedside table drawer and pulls out a small rectangular jewelry box that looks about the right size for a bracelet.

“Oh, you’re on fire this morning, Chilly,” you joke as you accept the box from him.

“Just open it,” he encourages you, suddenly looking a bit nervous.

With a raised eyebrow, you open the box, which does not contain a bracelet, but rather a miniature figure of the Eiffel Tower.

Your heart clenches in your chest. You had told Ben about your plan with your dad a couple years ago, when you first started dating, but you never expected him to remember.

“Ben…” you begin to say, your eyes welling with tears.

“We don’t have to go, it’s completely up to you,” Ben says quickly, placing his hand on your arm. “I know it was your plan with your dad, so if it’s too much, I completely understand. We can go anywhere else in the world, or we can stay here. Whatever you want.”

You shake your head, grabbing his hand and looking up at him as you wipe your tears with your other hand.

“No, babe, it’s perfect,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “I just can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did,” Ben says softly, running a hand through your hair. “I know it won’t be the same, but you deserve the birthday you always dreamt of.”

Tears are fully streaming down your face now, but they’re not tears of sadness. They’re tears of joy that you found a man you know your dad would’ve loved, a man who consistently blows you away with how much you love him.

“You’re amazing,” you breathe, pulling him into a tight hug and burying your face in his neck as he continues to stroke your hair. “I love you so much, Ben, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby,” he murmurs into your hair. “Any more special requests before we leave? The flight’s in three hours, but it’s private, so we have some time.”

You’ll chastise him for spending so much money on you later, but for now you just pull back and nod with a smile on your face.

“Well, I obviously have to pack,” you say, “but first, I had another birthday present in mind. One I think you’ll be happy to give.”

Ben grins, making quick work of discarding your breakfast tray and even faster work of discarding your sweatpants.

It’s a very good birthday present.

-

yourusername via stories

Your first night in Paris is a dream.

You go straight from the jet to the room Ben booked for you at the Four Seasons, with your own private terrace looking out at the Eiffel Tower. There’s a bottle of champagne and most beautiful bouquet of white roses you’ve ever seen waiting for you upon arrival.

You quickly freshen up and get ready to go for dinner, putting on the red dress that’s been sitting in your closet for months, waiting for an occasion like this.

“You look incredible,” Ben breathes, staring at you in awe as he walks out of the bathroom and sees you putting the finishing touches on your makeup.

You stand up and turn to check him out as well. Ben always dresses fairly fashionably, and you love him in baggy shorts and a t-shirt just as much as anything else, but the suit he’s brought for your fancy dinner tonight is making him look particularly irresistible.

“Damn, you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, meeting him halfway for a kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him languidly as his hands find your waist and tug you closer. You don’t know if it’s the Parisian air or the glass of champagne you just downed, but you feel incredibly intoxicated by your charming boyfriend right now. Some combination of his warm hands on your waist, the scent of his aftershave and the way he looks totally irresistible right now is making it a challenge not to tear that suit right off of him.

However, you know he went out of his way to get you a reservation at one of the best restaurants in Paris, so you restrain yourself. That can wait until after dinner.

“Let me take a few pics of you before we go,” Ben mumbles, his low voice near your ear spurring you on even more.

You oblige, posing on your balcony in front of the incredible views and then taking a few photos with the beautiful bouquet of flowers he got you.

“So beautiful,” Ben murmurs under his breath as he snaps your picture about a dozen times more than necessary.

“Enough with the paparazzi, let’s go,” you joke, grabbing him by the hand and leading him toward the door.

The car is already waiting for you downstairs to take you to dinner, and Ben’s hand immediately finds your thigh as you get settled in the back of the black SUV.

“Hey, babe,” you murmur, covering his hand with yours and looking at him. “Thank you so much for this. It’s seriously the best birthday of my life. Not just because we’re in Paris and you’re spoiling me like crazy, but because I get to spend it with you.”

Ben’s eyes are flooded with emotion, and it’s clear that your words struck a chord with him. He looks like he might cry when he grabs your hand tightly.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, darling,” he says softly, a twinkle in his eye. “We’re just getting started, though. I have more surprises in store this weekend, believe it or not.”

You have no idea how he could top all of this, but you also know he loves a challenge.

“Is that so?” you say with a quirked eyebrow, shifting closer to him so you can kiss him.

Ben grins, his hand sliding around your waist, and deepens the kiss as you zoom past all the city lights.

-

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, charlottewright and others

tagged: yourusername

benchilwell 25 years ago today, my favourite person in the world was born. Happy birthday to the girl of my dreams, my rock, and my best friend. You make my life better every day. I love you like crazy ❤️

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yourusername Thank you Benji, I love you so much 🥹

yourmum What a lovely post Ben, thanks for treating our girl to such a special weekend xx

chillyfan1 omg i’m crying over this

-

yourusername

📍 Paris, France

liked by benchilwell, cmpulisic and others

yourusername Another trip around the sun!! Thanks everyone for all the birthday wishes and massive thank you to @benchilwell for making it so special. I’m a lucky girl 💕

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charlottewright so glad you had a great bday, can’t wait to hear all about the trip!!! xx

declanrice HBD from me and the fam! Have a nice time in Paris 😊

madders Common Chilly W (although now I have to take Kennedy to Paris for her birthday, thanks a lot @benchilwell 🙄)

madders Oh and happy birthday once again Y/N!!! Miss ya!

-

The next two days are a haze of romance, sex, laughter, and pure, unadulterated joy.

After your birthday dinner, which was the most incredible meal you’ve ever had, you went straight back to your hotel and didn’t leave until afternoon the next day, tangled in the sheets with Ben for hours on end.

Afterward, you spend your time taking long walks around Montmartre, drinking amazing wine, and soaking up the atmosphere of the city. You recognize so many places from you and your dad’s many internet browsing sessions, and Ben goes to great lengths to ensure you get to do everything on your list.

He asks you while you’re having lunch at Cafe de Flore on your last full day if it’s hard to be here without your dad, and while it’s certainly bittersweet, you don’t feel sadness.

You still miss your dad, of course, but your relationship with Ben over the past two and a half years has helped you process your grief in much healthier ways. You feel lighter now than you have since he first got sick all those years ago.

Your last evening before returning to London tomorrow so Ben can head out to the England training camp comes around far too quickly for your liking.

As yet another surprise in a long string of them since you woke up the morning of your birthday, Ben books you a private boat tour on the Seine so you can take in the city from a new perspective.

As you’re standing at the front of the boat, looking out at the magnificent architecture and the sunset over the skyline, you truly couldn’t feel more relaxed.

Then Ben’s arms wrap around you from behind, and you realize you were wrong - this is true peace.

You lean back into him, grabbing one of his hands that’s resting on your stomach.

“It’s so beautiful,” you say, “I never want to leave.”

“I know,” Ben sighs. “I wish we didn’t have to go home tomorrow.”

“Me too, especially because it means you’re leaving me again,” you pout, turning slightly in his arms to press a kiss to his jaw.

Although you’re certainly used to Ben being away, whether it’s for a training camp or a game out of the country, it doesn’t really get an easier. You have a hard time sleeping when he isn’t home, and your anxiety that something will happen to him during the game only triples when you can’t be there in person, probably as a result of your not being there when he tore his ACL in Brighton.

It’s a small price to pay for a life with him, but you still complain about it.

“You know I would stay home with you all the time if I could,” Ben murmurs against your cheek. “Although you would probably get sick of me.”

“Not possible,” you sigh in response, unable to conjure a witty joke about how you like having the house to yourself right now.

Standing here in the most romantic place on earth, wrapped in his embrace, you’ve never been more in love with him.

“I’m gonna get us some more champagne, you want some?” Ben asks you after a moment, and you notice he’s gone a bit tense before he lets you go.

“Sure, babe,” you reply, watching him walk across the boat before you turn back to continue admiring the sunset.

As the lights on the Eiffel Tower begin to twinkle, signifying the start of the hour, you can’t help but swoon in delight. You’re certain life can’t get any better than this.

And then you turn back to see if Ben is on his way with the champagne, and you’re immediately proven wrong.

Your boyfriend is there before you on one knee, holding an open box with a sparkly ring inside, staring up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, nearly losing your balance as your hand covers your mouth. “Ben…”

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you more than anything in the world,” Ben begins, making your heart beat faster. “You changed my life in so many ways. Before we met, all I cared about was football. And then I stumbled upon the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my mate’s backyard at a party I didn’t even want to go to, and my world turned upside down.”

You feel tears begin to stream down your face as you remember that first night in Mason’s backyard, the instant connection that formed between you and Ben as you hid from the rest of the partygoers.

“I fell for you harder than I knew was possible. You made me feel so alive, you made me remember why I loved football in the first place. You’ve been there for me through every good day and every bad day, every win and loss. You got me through the hardest year of my life, giving me nothing but love and support even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Ben is crying at this point, too, his eyes full of tears as he continues to hold your gaze.

“I’ll never deserve you, Y/N, but I would love to spend the rest of my life trying. I want forever with you.”

You’re already nodding your head, unable to form words, before he can ask the question he’s building up to.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you manage to choke out between small sobs, nodding your head. “Yes, Ben, of course I’ll marry you!”

Ben’s eyes light up with joy, his obvious nerves dissipating. You don’t know why he was so nervous, as this is pretty much the easiest decision you’ve ever made. He jumps to his feet and strides toward you, and you immediately fling your arms around him and hug him tightly.

“I love you so much,” you sob into his shoulder, feeling him squeeze you even tighter.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Ben mumbles into your hair, rocking you back and forth in his embrace.

He eventually pulls back to slide the ring he picked out on your finger, and you glance down and admire it. It’s a beautiful diamond, but not overly extravagant, matching your taste perfectly.

“It’s beautiful, Ben.”

“Charlotte helped me pick it out,” he admits, still holding your hand in his.

“You told Charlotte you were going to propose?”

“Yeah, I believe her exact words were ‘about time’,” Ben chuckles. “I also told my mum and asked your mum and Max for their blessing, so I reckon it would’ve been fairly embarrassing if you’d have said no.”

“I’m sure they all knew I would say yes,” you smile, grabbing his face and planting a long, passionate kiss on his lips.

Ben kisses you back with the same intensity, gripping the material of your dress in his hands as he pecks at your lips, then your cheeks and neck.

“I love you so much,” Ben says again, tears still leaking from his eyes as he cups your face. “Thank you for making me the happiest man alive.”

You feel incredibly content and filled to the brim with excitement about what the future holds as you look up into the beautiful blue eyes that stole your heart in the first place.

“I can’t wait to marry you, Ben Chilwell.”

Ben leans in and kisses you once more - a kiss filled with a million promises.

“I can’t wait to marry you either, my love.”

-

yourusername and benchilwell

liked by chelseafc, max.yln and others

yourusername Swipe for a surprise…💕

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masonmount Congrats guys!!!! ❤️

charlottewright Finally!!! So happy for you both 🥹

chelseafan1 OH MY GOD BEN PROPOSED IN PARIS IM GONNA CRY

yourmum So beautiful! Congratulations dears, can’t wait to hear all about it xxx

sasharebecca Ahhh so exciting!! Lots of love from me and Jack 😘

-

A/N: THE END!!!! i hope you all enjoyed it, please let me know your thoughts!! 🥰

tagging: @xjval @majx00 @delicateearthquakellama @lunamelona @kenanlotus0 @madriiid​ @mountstars​ @ttzamara​

[memekeymouse]

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh three musketeers clarabelle my beloved

I’ve been thinking so much about her recently, from how she ended up where she was at the beginning of the movie to where she ended up after it. enjoy

It’s not explained why or how she ends up working for Pete (can’t imagine it was genuine loyalty given how easily she ended up switching sides) so what I’m thinking is that. Clarabelle is actually a SUPER skilled swordswoman, much more competent than Captain Pete— yet she was fine being his lieutenant because she has no interest in having responsibilities, only thrills. She only went along with Pete’s plans of taking over France because it was exciting (and she didn’t know the Princess personally either so honestly? She couldn’t care less)

After the movie though…..she really had to reconsider her priorities after the Princess she had NO qualms with dethroning, instead of punishing her and sending her to jail like she did with Pete, instead decided to pardon her and name her the new Captain of the Royal Guard. A decision many people (Daisy included) were reluctant about, yet nobody questioned it. And it’s not like Minnie knew Clarabelle that well either beyond working under Pete, which just confuses and humbles her even more

Why DID Minnie pardon her, though? I wanna believe that despite being a hopeless romantic who doesn’t really care about titles, Minnie can be a competent ruler when she needs to be. And she must’ve realized that leaving the spot of Musketeers Captain vacant after an attempted coup d’etat was not a good look in front of their neighboring countries. And with that being said, Clarabelle was naturally the best choice being Pete’s subordinate with her talent, so. That’s reason number 2 though. Reason 1 was that the story of Goofy and Clara falling in love appealed to her as a hopeless romantic lol. But also, because Clarabelle doesn’t want to have responsibilities, her promotion is a reward AND a punishment: that’s like 3 birds with one stone

As I mentioned, a lot of people are skeptical about Clarabelle being the new Captain. This includes Daisy (mostly because she worries about Minnie), Donald (mostly because he worries about Goofy) and specially Mickey (because he worries about BOTH Minnie and Goofy. And he’s not forgetting any time soon that Clara nearly drowned Goofy AND helped Pete almost get rid of Minnie…….oops). However, they all want trust their friends’ judgement

Mickey’s solution to this? He decides to ask Clarabelle to train him personally in addition to their regular Musketeer training. Their latest adventure proved that, power of friendship aside, he and his friends were severely lacking in formal Musketeers training, so who could possibly be better to train them? It’s a genuine concern, but he’s also doing it so he can get to know her better, try to figure out what her intentions are. Keep an eye on her

Clarabelle, amused, agrees, saying that the future Prince/King Consort should be skilled with a sword more than any Musketeer anyways. Mickey pretends he doesn’t hear her :) She also absolutely knows what Mickey is REALLY after, but she never acts upon it because, well……..it’s justified. She’s got nothing to hide anymore anyways

What starts as a secret mission for Mickey and another source of amusement for Clarabelle slowly turns into genuine bonding time for both of them. Mickey is slow to learn at first but he’s got potential AND determination. Clarabelle wears him to the bone and it pays off

During one of their sessions, Mickey finds out that Clarabelle was an orphan like him and his friends. Unlike them though, she had no friends or anyone else to depend on— so everything she did, she did for herself. She lived life not caring about anyone or anything else, only about finding the next thrill in her life, which is how she ended up working for Pete. The reason she switched sides though….is that Goofy made her feel something back at the bridge. A thrill unlike any other she felt before, and one that involved caring about someone else other than herself. That doesn’t mean his love immediately ‘fixed’ her; she’s still very socially inept…….but she’s learning. She wants to learn

Eventually Mickey becomes almost, if not AS much of a beast with the sword as Clarabelle. Their “friendly” sparring sessions are pretty intense, even horrifying to onlookers (except for the people that already know them). They are having the time of their lives :)

SIKE!!!!! this was me selling “Mickey and Clarabelle are siblings” propaganda all along!!!! And it WILL happen again >:)

[rebelsandtherest]

ok so i’m going to preface this ask by saying that the name alfred is given to the first born males on my dads side, so it’s a name near and dear to my heart, that said, there’s an angle i’ve never (or in all likelihood missed) seen between alfred and arthur. and i crave your opinions.

growing up i knew that the name alfred became popular in the victorian period since the english started looking into history and saw king alfred and decided he was pretty great. so i wonder how arthur felt, to see and hear his estranged sons name so often. of course he’s glad that his country’s putting some respect on king alfred, but i can see him calling someone named alfred by their last name to avoid saying it out loud. “alfred, lord tennyson.” “who?” “lord tennyson.” “not a fan.” the man’s conflicted and petty.

or it could be the opposite, it could remind him why he chose the name to begin with. imagine him overhearing a man in a pub proudly boasting about how fast his little alfie is growing, showing off a picture he keeps of the lad. and arthur can’t help but smile to himself and feel a wee bit envious. a few situations like that, and he’s tentatively writing formal letters that go unanswered. a few decades and a great rapprochement later he can finally say alfred out loud without tasting bile.

or he could be so far up his own ass that he doesn’t even notice the trend in names. idk. definitely drunkenly hums ‘what’s it all about (alfie)’ in the 60s.

Ooooh man this is a good question! Thanks for sending in the ask.

This became an immensely long reply with a bad history lesson included (because I'm relying on my ADHD memory and hoping it doesn't scramble itself between my brain and the keyboard), so... sorry about the length.

Anyway.

I think the Victorian revival of "Alfred" as a name would have affected Arthur in a few ways, but within his context, I imagine that those moments would be relative sporadic.

So a few things:

First: The name itself is Anglo Saxon—the original ash (Æ) was replaced with an A to fit contemporary English spelling, and it would have been pronounced a little different obviously, but it is remarkably unchanged for an early medieval name over 1000 years old. So Arthur is probably used to hearing the name at least once in a blue moon, and I doubt anyone was much confused when he gave the name—even if it wasn't in vogue at the time—to his firstborn.

Second: The Victorian age for Arthur was absolutely chock-full of wars, particularly wars overseas. Victoria was called empress for a reason, because she had a penchant for stealing other people's land and sovereignty. So whether Arthur was enthused by the nonstop action or not (I'd wager he was, most of the time), he was incredibly preoccupied and probably didn't have time to mope about his son, so if the name ever made Arthur think about Alfred, it would be a short-lived reverie.

Third: The Victorian era was a historically interesting time for UK-US international relations. Your average USA citizen probably didn't spare much thought for English subjects an ocean away, but, on the whole, white Americans remained enamored with England as the "mother land", were keen on trans-Atlantic commerce, and eager to prove themselves as equals to their allies in Europe. This didn't exactly work.

Even so, Britain and the USA continued to host a bizarre mix of cultural proximity and mutual contempt. Bad blood had gone stale by the beginning of Victoria's reign, but stale blood bred an enduring sense of pettiness, especially on the British side. Though the two nations' diplomatic and economic relationships were strong and well-maintained, events like the USA's rather embarrassing showing at the 1851 Great Exhibition in London were devoured by the British public in a feeding frenzy of schadenfreude that solidified a kind of national desire to dunk on Americans whenever possible.

While Brits still relish dunking on Americans, the early Victorian need to put America down as an economic and cultural peer began to shift, at least in some ways, in the second half of the 19th century. The American Civil War devastated the English economy, particularly of the northern half of the country which depended immensely on American cotton to fuel its textile industry. The entire war, its fallout, and notably the end of slavery in the USA, were all topics that British citizens would have seen daily in their newspapers, a source of interest and immense anxiety. By this point, Britain as a whole had forcibly been made aware of how, like it or not, the state of the USA's government and economy affected their daily life in ways too large to ignore.

Whilst America quite literally murdered itself over the problems it'd decided to ignore for a century, Britain and Europe were all deep in the industrial revolution—hell, it started in England, hence the textile mills. England and the young German Confederation were both heavy hitters in the game, and improvements to seafaring technology as well as Britain's relentless expansion across the globe was continuously bringing in new wares from all around the world for European industrialists to copy and mass produce. European trade and industrial competition was booming.

Meanwhile, America remained intensely focused on itself, and understandably so. With the absolute disaster of Reconstruction, westward expansion, industrial revolution, and lest we forget, a bloody parade of genocides and land wars, the USA had plenty to be worried about within its own (expanding) borders. It was not isolationist in the true sense, but was not exactly competing for European attention at the same levels at it had earlier in the century.

However, when the USA eventually gathered itself to take more of an international presence, it would do so in a way that would take the entire world by storm. The sheer speed, size, and production volume of American industries began to challenge their European competitors. If you were white and well-connected or just immensely lucky, this was the age when the American Dream was born. The US military had undergone immense expansion since the Civil War, and they went from having a young navy only just big enough to form a blockade to having a navy large enough to send a top-of-the-line fleet around the world with literally no other purpose but to flex in front of their allies (and enemies) not even 50 years later.

.....This has been a very long winded way to explain that, while the Victorian Era was the heyday of Arthur's imperialist dreams and victories, it was also the very nascent stages of Alfred coming into his own and more or less forcing himself back into dear old dad's life. Coming hot on the heels of Victoria, The American Gilded Age, the Progressive Era, and the Great Rapprochement were all just around the corner. These shifts of history—to say nothing of the quickly-approaching storm clouds of World War—would bring father and son back together and force them to mend their relationship, at least as much as they could.

I think, in the early Victorian age, when 'Alfred' came into vogue after so many centuries, a part of Arthur would hear it with a sinking feeling in his gut, because he was certainly old enough to have seen the future on the horizon. Maybe it wasn't clear, or concrete, maybe he couldn't put it into words. But he would know, in some instinctual sense, that Alfred's star was rising in more ways than one, and that he'd would need to brace himself and his empire for whatever came next. So sometimes, when he heard the name, some indistinct prophecies would flash before his mind's eye, filling him with ominous dread that he couldn't have named.

Sometimes, if he'd been drinking or just in a sentimental mood, he would hear the name and reminisce on both the King Ælfred, and the golden son who bore his name. He would wax poetic about his firstborn and all that he'd accomplished in his life—daring even, perhaps for the first time in his life, to praise Alfred's tenacity, conviction, and strength during his fight for independence. He would of course be mortified by the drunken memory the next day.

Sometimes, it takes him off guard and he turns his head, fully expecting Alfred himself—a toddler, a child, a teenager, a young man—to step through the door and greet him. It lasts only moments, and the empty feeling that follows usually sends Arthur directly into some mentally or physically taxing task, to avoid uncomfortable emotions.

But I think more than anything, the re-emergence of the name would make Arthur feel old. So very, very old, when he continuously, despite repeated embarrassments, pronounces the name in the way he learned as a boy, with the long-i ash sound that his people forgot to pronounce somewhere along the last century or ten. The very same pronunciation mistake he couldn't seem to stop making all those years ago, when Alfred was small, still learning English and fully convinced a boy could have two versions of a name.

The same pronunciation that, even today, would make Alfred's head twitch up, looking for his father.

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Ikigami & Donor

Title: Ikigami to Donor (イキガミとドナー)

Author/Artist: Yamanaka Hiko

Shop: CD + Manga

Release Date: 2021/12/03

Cast: 

Nakajima Yoshiki x Saitou Souma

Yamashita Seiichirou + Kawanishi Kengo

Kobayashi Chiaki

Yashiro Taku

Komada Wataru

Hayashi Miho

Shiozaki Tomohiro

Higa Ryosuke

Abe Ryouma

Torashima Takaaki

Oota Kensuke

Nakashima Takuya

Fujita Mami

Miyama Mari

Souya Kazuki

Synopsis: 

"Your blood and flesh, all of it is mine." An ikigami and a healer, together their souls support each other, blooming into love...

In the distant future, ordinary teacher Yoshino learns that he is a "donor" for the strongest species, the "ikigami." These warriors are tasked with protecting the country. "The unique ability of a donor is to use their bodily fluids to heal ikigami." Yoshino learns this fact and is shocked. Thus, Yoshino is forced to live with Kidou... At first, he is like a beast, demanding Yoshino's bodily fluids, but slowly, the underlying loneliness begins to show...

"Someday, if I met a donor, could they come to love me? That thought is the only reason I survived..."

Review Proper

I can’t believe Yamanaka Hiko’s been terrorizing me for over twelve years now. OH MY GOD I’M SO OLD. And true to the Yamanaka Hiko brand, this turned out to be another fantasy masterpiece (read His 500 Years of Suffering Romance). This was definitely the type of thing that would do great even without the BL aspect of it. Now, I did have an issue with Kidou being an asshole (he's almost killed Yoshino more than once), so I’m not excusing it. But I do get how and why he turned out to be like that and I'm aware that it's important for his character development. The world-building was great, don't get me wrong, but it's definitely dubcon 2015. I would strongly advise you not to get into it if that's a deal breaker for you.

Anyway, onto the voice work.

Souma used a tone so close to Gucci's that I kept imagining Gucci being Yoshino. Yes, I didn't read the manga while listening to the BLCD. It was like after graduating Karasuno, Gucci went on to become a teacher, then a donor lmao. His Yoshino panics more like Honda-san, however, so my final verdict is that his Yoshino is half-Gucci, half-Honda-san.

This isn't Nakajiki and Souma's first rodeo, but I'm glad to say that their performance/dynamic here is different from Mikeneko and XL Size. I expected Kidou to be a mix of Amano and Anaconbayashi-kun 'cause the former was cocky and the latter was stoic, but Kidou was only 50% of that mix and 50% brooding, suffering, I'll-protect-you top. Am I even making any sense? Again, I listened to the BLCD first, but the sound direction they gave Nakajiki was very different from what I thought he'd sound like after I read the manga. It’s almost like what happened with OnoD’s expressive Hasebe-kun in the Kotonoha BLCD vs the more stoic Hasebe-kun in the manga. 

The voice work of our two leads was 👌. This might just be my fave out of their pairings 'cause the sex isn't over-the-top like XL Size and Mikeneko. I will say that I wasn't completely sold on Yamashita Seiichirou as Shibata-san 'cause I feel like he speaks too slowly, but I'm sure it'll grow on me by the time I listen to their spin-off. KawaKen was fine. My heart broke for him every time Shibata-san rejected him, so it's safe to say he's got Taki-kun down already.

Oh. I did have a slight issue with the sfx too. Why was it so watery??? Lmao. Even r18 otome cds aren't that wet. But it's not so glaring that it'll turn you off.

The BLCD was almost perfectly accurate to the manga. I highly recommend this to those learning mid to higher levels of Japanese. Futekiya has licensed volumes 1 & 2, so please try to support the official release if you can. I'd be lying if I said that I agree with how they translated it so... literally?, but I think it's also important to see how things are translated that way if you're aiming to dip your toes into translation aside from studying the language. For example, they used "Living God" throughout the manga instead of "Ikigami." It's correctly translated, but I personally prefer retaining the original title. You know, like how Viz uses "Kaiju no. 8" instead of "Monster no. 8?"

God knows if I'll ever survive the spinoff that I wanted to work on. I avoided talking about it for a reason lmao. Anyway, if y'all liked this, then please give 500 Years (Ono Yuuki x Suzuki Tatsuhisa) and Shortcake no Ichigo Sawaranaide (Nojima Hirofumi x Takeuchi Ken). These two are android bls and Ikigami to Donor is more guide bl, but they both share a futuristic vibe.

[vacantgodling]

i wrote a Ridiculous thing (the narration style is definitely Out There) to poke at red and hel a bit so have… whatever the fuck this is.

gently tagging @void-botanist

If you were to go into any tavern in any village in (country), and asked someone how the Wolf Queen came to be, if you weren’t arrested first, their hushed whispers would vary. Some think she is a trickster sent far from the west, sent by the goodness of light to punish the old king’s wicked ways. “He gambled and lost,” a farmer would tell you. “And couldn’t live with tha shame n’ died. She sits on tha throne now but that throne’s well n’ cursed, and it’d do ya good not to ask more questions than you need to.”

Others would point out that it wasn’t a divine plot; that the king simply wed her, and in doing so he lost. “That’s why you don’t believe things that are too good to be true.” A barmaid would tell you, as she divvied out stew. “Like that rumored half off special. Pay up for your brew.”

Travel further to the east where the cities are grown; tall buildings of stone that kiss against the sky, and they’ll tell you she killed him, it’s as simple as that.

“Drew her talons cross his neck, and can’t be deader than that.”

Still others might blend a variety of the story, until it’s hard to discern, what parts are true and what’s legend; embellishment or propaganda.

The one person you should listen to, if you ask your peruse, is the one who quirks his brow, with a smirk beguiling and slow, simply looks you in the eyes and asks

“What will you pay to know?”

For that, dear reader, is how our story begins. For one Rosmarin Red, bloody scythe in her hand.

The blood dripped onto the tavern floor; plip plip; and yet the tavern raged on around them, as though neither of them spoke at all. From a contract she came, to put food in her stomach and a warm pillow under her head. The killing kind; of course, any one you who earned your ire. Petty mistresses in their beds, or off with landlord’s heads. As such and still, her dead eyes bore holes into this smart mouthed stranger, daring him to oppose.

The man didn’t seem phased; in fact, it’s as though he was expecting her. He leaned on his arms forward, with his boot, kicked out a chair towards her.

“Sit with me awhile.” He said, taking a drought from his cup. “And regale me. The Red Death, I presume?” The petite girl nodded, then dropped her scythe towards the floor, taking hold of the proffered chair in a dealthy tight hold. She eased herself into it, and if you noticed well; there was no clatter from the instrument’s careless discard.

The man knew it as well, still smiling, still sharp minded. He called a waiter up and ordered the young assassin a cup.

“On me.” He said gently, but the sparkle in his eye was knowing. “Who was it who taught you that rhyme?”

“I don’t know.” Red said back. “Not by name.”

“I imagine you kill many who you don’t remember at all?” He asked with a smile hidden into his mug. “No.” She did not smile, nor sip. She continued to bore holes in him; anyone else would squirm stiff. But the man knew his worth, and knew he was valuable at least not to kill, so he relaxed even further, swirling the drink in his hand and contemplating his fill.

“News of you has reached my ears.” He tried for another approach. “Heard you would come looking for me, one day or another.”

“Then you know why I’m here.” The assassin said tersely. “So what do I owe you.” The man clicked his tongue, for the game had just begun.

“Impatience, my dear, is a virtue on occasion. But not now, at least. I’ll offer you a deal—you offer me your finest possession and I’ll give you the answer you seek.”

Red considered this. Considered it well. So hard in fact that it was near dawn when she answered.

“I have no money to offer you, nor children to sell. I have no clothes other than the blood covered ones that hang to my back. No riches, nor connections can this deal between us bring. But I do have myself, and any services you ask of me.”

After saying it soft like a midnight chime, Red pressed her face to the table, hiding her eyes.

“… Please.” She whispered finally, though elaborate she did not. At the heartfelt display, the man would admit he was touched.

“Raise your head, sweet Red, no need to grovel just yet. The night is older than we shall be. Come, I will give you lodgings for the night, and then in the marrow, our exchange we shall write.”

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five (Part 3)

When we get back to my apartment, I have to pay the driver because Marnie can’t find her bag. I think I give him too much money but he doesn’t give me any change. The trip costs more money than I would spend in three days, and I dimly suspect that I will be upset about it in the morning.

I fumble my keys in the lock once we climb to the second floor of the apartment block, and it takes much longer than usual to get inside because the keyhole seems to be in a different place than it usually is, the whole lock moving around exotically in front of my eyes. I don’t turn the lights on, because the effort of finding the switch seems far too great, and we both stumble around in the dark searching for the staircase, my limbs so heavy and lethargic, but I can’t help but giggle as Marnie collides with a dining chair, sending its metal legs shuddering across the kitchen tiles. She starts giggling too, and then shushes me extremely loudly. 

“You shush.” I stage-whisper to her, right as I crash my shins into the coffee table and yelp out in pain, which makes her laugh even harder. A light flips on upstairs. 

“What’s going on?” Comes a clear, sober, and very irritated voice as Claire comes down the stairs in pink satin pyjamas. I’m stricken by how perfect she looks even with messy hair and marks on her cheek from her pillow, and how cretinous Marnie and I must seem in comparison, drunk, dishevelled, and one of us with actual vomit on her top. 

“Sorry.” I say weakly. “We were trying to be quiet.”

She looks us up and down. “Well okay, clearly you’ve after been drinking all night, and that’s your choice, like, but can you not make such a racket when you come in? I was asleep.”

“You weren’t out yourself, no? On a Friday night, like?” Marnie says cheekily, but Claire doesn’t answer, she just stares her down with the kind of venomous disapproval that could make a grown man squirm. 

“Sorry.” I say. “We’ll be quiet. We’ll go to bed and won’t disturb you again.”

“It’s fine, you could just be more considerate next time.”

While Marnie and I lay together in my bed she turns to me and sniffs “Your housemate is a bit of a culchie, isn’t she?”

“What do you mean?” I say, trying not to focus on the way that the bed is spinning beneath me like a the waltzers at a theme park. 

“Like, I mean she’s one of those country girls who’s really boring. She doesn’t know how to have actual fun.”

“She does.” I say defensively. “Just maybe she didn’t feel like going out tonight.”

“In general though, I mean.”

“Mm?”

“She’s got the vibe of someone who’ll marry a boy she met in secondary school, then have kids at twenty five and then live in her hometown for the rest of her life.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I suppose, but it’s not very interesting, is it? To never learn anything about the world outside of yourself or to experiment or have unique experiences.”

“Do you think that’s what you’re like? Open minded?”

“Yeah. I think we’re both a bit like that. We’re not meant to be caged in, we’re meant to make something of ourselves and to stand out as being different. I like to imagine myself written about in some magazine far in the future, to have been a notable woman with notable things to contribute to society, not just a mother, a wife, the property of some dull, unextraordinary man.”

“Hm.” I say, partially because my focus is still off-kilter, but partially because I’m busy contemplating her image of me, as someone who’s meant for something, someone too big for a banal, traditional existence. I’m enjoying thinking of myself in those terms because it ignites warmth inside me, makes me feel worthy of more.

She’s silent for a long while after that, and I’m beginning to think that she’s asleep when she rolls over to face me in the dark. “I kissed Fiona tonight.” She confesses. “In the bath.”

“Wow.” I slur. “What was it like?”

“It was pretty good. I don’t usually kiss other girls, but she was looking at me like she wanted to. She told me that I’m pretty.”

“Well, you are.”

“Mm.” She agrees.

“Do you fancy her?”

“No, I don’t think so. I was just trying it out. Unfortunately I think I prefer men.”

I chuckle, and then for some reason feel compelled to share something with her too, as though we’re now trading vulnerable moments like football cards. “Something weird happened with Dean tonight.” I whisper, and I hear her body shifting in the blankets to face me again. 

“Why? What happened?”

“He touched my hand. Out of the blue. He grabbed it and started drawing on it with his fingers.”

“And he didn’t like, say anything before he did that?”

“No, and he looked weird.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, he was just looking.” Speaking is an effort, and I’m not sure I’m making the kind of sense that I think I am, but I don’t really care that much anymore. Everything feels surreal and dreamlike, even the words coming out of my mouth barely feel as though they belong to me. A weighty, sleepy feeling overpowers me and I shut my eyes, feeling myself carried away into the darkness behind my lids. 

I feel her turn over one last time beside me. “Do you fancy him?” She whispers. 

“No.” I say drowsily. “No, I don’t think so.”

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