#IT WOULD BE SO EMOTIONALLY FULFILLING IF WE AS THE UNIVERSE WERE SILENT BUT WITH SIFFRIN THE WHOLE WAY EMBODYING HIM ENTIRELY

[wowitsverycool]

listen if nobody stops me my analysis is only going to get more self congratulatory and masturbatory. if you don't stay my hand i WILL pen a manifesto about the player possibly being read as the universe or some form of wish craft. i mean if the dev's 'insert' is the change god, and we end the game on a screen of leaves flying through the air, then that could symbolize us fulfilling our purpose and releasing the wish siffrin made and--

[levicanpunchme]

Hi i found your profile today and I read all of it I am SO IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING!!💕Hope u are doing well and getting enough rest!Can i please request Levixfem!reader where they watch scary movie and reader is scared during and after the horror movie maybe u can do hc with levi or one shot!If u like the idea and u are ok to do it can u put much fluff?💕🥺

Thank you for suggesting! Hope you enjoy ;)

——————————————————————

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warning: Contains a tiny make-out description

Movie Night Gone Right

The air seemed to be drowning in thick tension, terror bustling in your veins as you held onto the edge of your blanket. You scoffed to yourself: modern technology had really evolved so much: the large television screen amplified every emotion especially whilst watching horror movies. It felt like the heinous predators would jump out of the screen any moment, making you piss yourself.

The darkness in the room and eerie music from the television made it impossible for your mind to gravitate elsewhere. Your body was taut as you held your breath while the stupid main characters died one after another in the haunted villa.

You looked to your far right at your boyfriend, who seemed quite unaffected by the countless jump scares. Even whilst watching a terrifying movie, you didn’t see him bat an eye.

He was either too brave or-borderline sociopathic. You hoped for the former.

“Why’re you always choosing horror movies on our date nights, Levi?” You bitterly muttered, your annoyance visible in your tone. Every weekend, you both watched a new movie and he chose horror every damn time.

Your boyfriend looked away from the screen, his wolf-like eyes reading yours. His dark black hair attractively fell like curtains on his forehead, disheveled and messy.

“Because they’re fun,” he monotonously replied.

His response made you speechless. “Fun? What part of large scale man-slaughter and cannibalism, fun?” You cried, disturbed at his reasoning. Horror movies just gave you vivid nightmares and trauma. You usually spent weekend nights with Levi just because you were too scared to head back to your dorm.

Levi’s lips curled into an unapologetic smirk as he glanced back to the television screen. You glared at him narrowly and then resumed watching the movie. A few minutes in, another terrifying scream erupted from the television and your body grew cold, your blanket now scrunched within your clenched fists.

“You’re shaking,” Levi’s soft voice pulled you out of the gory massacres of the movie. He swiftly scooted closer to you as his arm found its way around the small of your back. He wrapped you close to him, your face resting against his chest.

Your chest ached with joy as you heard his heartbeat, trashing against your frame, sending vibrations through your body. His familiar soapy scent washed over you and ignited a deep fire within the pit of your stomach. Your scent mixing with his made your toes curl in pleasure. You liked stealing some of his sweatshirts to take them back to your dorm just to smell him on you. The warmth of his breath cascading down your forehead sent tingles down your spine, making your heart ache with jitters. It was the feeling of being beside him that gave you pleasure.

The movie watching experience was ten times better with Levi holding your body.

Levi’s arm around your frame never loosened. Your warmth embracing him gave him the unfamiliar feeling of a home. His head was filled with you alone, so much so that he didn’t even know who the hell the main characters were in the movie; a week of pent up frustration from not seeing you starting to quench as your warmth diffused into him, making him feel like he were a part of you.

He started dating you a few months ago and it was crazy how damn clingy he had gotten in just a matter of months. At first, he never intended on letting a woman into his territory but you defeated the strong walls that were guarding his heart. When he tasted the sweetness of your lips, he forgot every promise he had made to himself and felt his walls shatter into nothingness.

Levi wanted to snatch you away from the shackles of your university which constantly demanded your attention, keeping you busy with assignments and exams; he wished to burn the whole building down along with your dorm so you could live with him, giving him the epiphany of waking up beside you. He hated anything which took you away from him. Selfish, yes but he couldn’t help it.

He dug his nose into your silky hair, acting subtle so you wouldn’t catch onto his motives. He wanted to run his fingers down the long strands all day, but he couldn’t. No matter how weak you had him, he didn’t want that side to be seen by you.

If he scared you away with his carelessness, he’d throw himself off a rooftop.

He surveyed you, and rechecked for any signs of awareness but seeing the intense emotions in your eyes, he realised you were sucked up into the haunted world of the movie.

He silently smiled to himself and inhaled your scent. Your fragrance was so therapeutic, a fresh breeze of comfort to his exhausted body. His insides squeezed in joy. You were like a heavenly addiction, fulfilling his needs, comforting his emotions.

“Levi, that woman was the imposter all along!” Automatically, his eyes regained its indifference, the smile of his lips disintegrating as he peeled his eyes away from you to the screen.

You looked up at him while snuggling in his chest. Levi pretended to be immersed within the movie and then looked down at you; he almost stopped breathing seeing your lustrous, wide eyes looking up at him like he were the only one on this planet. His breathing became shallow as he quickly nodded, and looked away from you.

“Levi...” you noticed his heaving chest.

You stared at him doubtfully and then it dawned upon you. His eyes were cold but his body said otherwise. He was so warm and his heart was beating so heavily, your stomach flooded with a mass of butterflies.

“Levi, who’s the imposter?” Your heart was skipping a beat as you tried confirming your doubts.

He visibly froze, your question catching him off guard. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his nervousness like a deer caught in headlights.

“Why're you asking me that? Aren’t you watching?” He counterattacked, hoping this would divert your attention.

You stared at him for a good minute and then looked at the television screen. “Yeah but I was just wondering if you ever doubted that white haired lady. She looked so innocent, asking for help and stuff.” You watched his reaction, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, didn’t expect that.”

Chills travelled down your spine as you realised what had been happening these past few weeks: why he always suggested on watching horror movies; why he kept on asking you when will your semester end; why he didn’t like going out to the shopping mall for dates. Everything started making sense.

“Levi, there is no white haired lady asking for help in this movie,” your breathy voice made him flinch and tense up. You had never seen Levi outrightly display his emotions but right now, you could see the little rims of his ears going darker red, a pool of redness pumping through his cheeks as his bottom lip trembled.

Processing, you grabbed the remote from his lap and turned the television off. Your heart was thudding against your ribs as you observed Levi’s clenched fist.

“Why’re you making me watch horror movies when you don’t like them yourself?” Your voice was so soft and airy, comforting him.

You were currently having the time of your life, watching your rigid, formal boyfriend emotionally overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“Answer me Levi,” you dared him.

He gripped his nape and sighed, his nose crinkled with reluctance. Very softly, his words held you astounded.

“So you can get scared and hide into my arms.” —you almost gasped, your body shrivelling as a feeling of mystical happiness engulfed your chest. Your heart palpitated as you stared at the man who owned your heart, feeling the corner of your eyes burn.

“Why didn’t you just—say so?” You whispered.

He looked up at you, his eyes hinting of annoyance. “Because,” he muttered, his words caught in his mouth. You waited patiently. You would wait forever for him, only Levi Ackerman.

“I don’t want to scare you off,” his white skin looked so flushed. Seeing him, your body instantly warmed up too.

“Levi,” his name fell from your mouth like butter. Then earnestly, you climbed on his lap, your leg on either sides of him, facing him. The bold response made you fluster, your cheeks flaring up as you stared into the grey mists of his eyes.

His reaction was instant. His body became taut under your heat as he gazed into your eyes with a suffocating intensity. He instinctively pulled you closer, pulling you into him. Closer, closer until two bodies mushed into one, not an inch of space left in between.

“Levi, I want to dwell you in so much love, so much affection that you might get tired of me and throw me away,” you started with confessing.

Both of you were new to a relationship; both had fears and doubts hurdling your paths. How much volume of love do we express? How much of love do we need to hold back? Is there an exact percentage? Will holding his hand make him uninterested? Will pulling you into his arms seem clingy? The questions were numerous; answers, numerous.

Levi’s chest was heaving in a way you never expected. His eyes were darker than usual, thunderously grey and passionate with a whirlwind of emotions erupting loose; his body was hotter and eyelids heavy as he stared at you with an intensity he never let you see before.

“I get excited when you call me to pick me up from uni-when you text me to remind me of our date nights, and when you let me see through your exterior, when you let me explore every side to you.”

It was taking everything in you to not run away and go into hiding. Your words were exposing the sides you kept to yourself but it was time to let go. It was time to let him know exactly who you belong to.

“Levi Ackerman, if it’s you, I’ll give up everything to be by your side.”

Your words were cut short as his hand held the back of your head and like a desperate wolf, he pulled your lips into his. Every fibre of your being sprung to life. It felt like all the happiness of the world was thrown at you so suddenly, you couldn’t contain your emotions. His moist lips feasted on your mouth and impatiently invaded you with his tongue. Your audible panting was almost embarrassing but you could hear him struggle to breath as well. While he rendered you breathless, his mouth drank from within you like a thirsty stray dog. His arms around you had you locked, unable to escape, nor did you want to.

As you panted to inhale some air, his lips peeled off your mouth, up to your eyelid; he kissed one and then the other. He was breathing so heavily with his nose, your heart faltered at the sounds. He ran his fingers down your silky hair strands and dropped tantalising kisses down your cheek, to your chin and your nose. “I-want-to-steal-you-away-from-the-world,” he confessed, in between mind numbing kisses. He then buried his nose inside the crevice of your neck, inhaling you shamelessly. “If I could, I would-absorb-you-within me,” the hurling emotions he had kept inside were pouring out like unforeseen rain.

He kissed your neckline, tasting and inhaling every inch of you. “I can’t get tired of you, y/n,” his soft words tugged at your heart, making your eyes well up. You were so overwhelmed by his love, and your love for him that your vision was becoming hazy.

“Levi, promise to share your true feelings with me?” You asked, your hand finding its way into his undercut, you pulled at his baby hairs, making his eyes screw shut in pleasure, a comforting sigh left his mouth.

He nodded, spellbound by your touch.

You edged your face closer, kissing the high bridge of his nose and each one of his eyebrows.

“So no more, horror movies?” You muttered resentfully against his lips. His eyes opened again and a soft smile illuminated his mouth as he kissed your plump lips again, not getting enough.

“No more horror movies,” he promised.

You giggled lovingly and kissed the corner of his warm mouth affectionately.

“Move in with me.”

You almost fell back, his words pushing you over the edge. You almost thought you misheard him but the glint of honesty in his eyes proved otherwise. He was dead serious.

“Uh—are you sure? I can be very annoying and lazy...” You didn’t think this was a good idea.

He cut you off, annoyance present in his narrow eyes. “I don’t care,” he rasped.

“I can also be quite messy and you don’t like mess-” You knew this excuse might make him reconsider.

His conviction remained unabated. “I’ll help you clean,” he quickly responded.

You held back your giggle. A day ago, if someone had told you that Levi Ackerman would be begging you with his narrow intimidating eyes to move in with him, you would’ve slapped them in the face for lying.

What changes could a day make...

“What if I don’t want to clean,” you pouted, deciding to tease him.

“Fine, I’ll clean for you,” he responded without hesitation and waited eagerly.

You broke into a melodious giggle which made him roll his eyes at you.

“Okay, Mr. Ackerman. I agree,” you casually responded and kissed his jawline.

Levi exuberantly stood up still carrying you in his arms as a huge grin elevated his facial features. “Let’s get your things.” He put you down on your feet and hurried to the table to grab his keys.

“Wait hold on... right now?” You stared at the clock. It was past midnight and your dormitory was probably closed.

Levi nodded eagerly. “Right now. We’ll request them to let us in.” Before you could object, he was already putting on his shoes and grabbing yours so you could gear up.

You stared at your boyfriend: he looked like an eager kid preparing to go to Disneyland after his parents promised him so. You wondered since how long had Levi put his inner childishness and love away, afraid of the consequences. And then Levi pulled you to the sofa, tying your shoes before you could change your mind and dragged you with him all the way to your dormitory in the later hours of the night. After fighting the guards and begging your dormitory manager, he successively managed to get you to pack up your belongings and come live with him starting that very auspicious movie night.

[silverandsoulbonded]

A Life of Stories - Soulbonding and My Story

It’s the late 90’s. A tiny child sits in the grip of wonder on the carpet two feet from the old, analog television screen. The volume is turned way down on a Saturday morning, so as not to wake the parents. And Digimon: Adventure is playing.

That kid was me.

I spent the next several days telling anyone and everyone I knew about the trials and bravery of my favorite new friends on the TV. Taichi and his Digi-pals.

Every Saturday morning I tuned in with wrapped attention to check in on my friends. Because that is what they were. I could not explain it at the time, and looking back I see that I did not understand just how powerful my love for them was, but over the years I began to notice the disparity between my experience and that of others. The glazed looks I received when I tried to communicate just how much the “stories” around me meant to my heart and spirit.

As I grew, so too did my well of worlds. When it was not Digimon, it turned to Batman and the DC Animated Universe. Over the years, as things became harder and harder for me in an unsafe household, I would reach out to those stories for safety and comfort. In the dead of night, listening to shouts, I would silently pray for Batman to come in and save me. I would think about Static, from Static Shock, and his bravery. I would long for the Justice League to show me hope.

I grew up in a conservative Protestant Christian household, and I was quickly taught from the moment I could understand stories that they were not real. It seemed a strange double-standard to me, as we read of Jesus and his amazing feats, recorded centuries ago by the hands of men but somehow “different” than the other stories I consumed, which also taught me and affected me just as emotionally.

It would not be until adulthood that I could finally articulate this incongruity I felt, much less possess the bravery and personal freedom to think about it on my own terms. To set aside the pre-packaged “truth” I had been fed growing up in order to find my own fresh fruits of wisdom and meaning.

Stories. Stories are what sustain humanity. All we have are stories. Even the perceptions we store in our brains are only that. Perceptions. Stories. We can never truly know what an orange is, or who a person is. We only can know our perception of them, and the story of them that lives on within us.

And, sometimes, those stories speak to us in the most fantastic and magical of ways.

Fast forward to 2021.

I am an adult. A practicing witch and pagan. An artist and writer. I am functional and thriving. And I have an unusual family.

Some of the most important people in my life do not exist on the physical plane of this Earth quite the same as other friends of mine. They exist in the subtle realms of Dream and thought and wonder. Over time I have come to find many names for them. Spirits, guides, and “soulbonds”.

I began my foray into the community of “soulbonding” when I began to sense, or rather, acknowledge the living quality of some of the “characters” I was writing about. One character in particular, a being who introduced himself to me in a dream, had me particularly flummoxed. I called him Asura, and from the moment he entered my life through that dream, my entire world changed. It was akin to stepping onto a roller coaster car while it was still moving—except this roller coaster had no track and no limits. His entire presence permeated my life, my thoughts, my daydreams. I wrote about him, and it was my writing about him that led me to thoughts, questions, and explorations I would have never dared otherwise. By finding him, he led me to find myself, and for that I shall be forever grateful.

At some point, I, and even my closest friends, became aware of a “spookiness” about my dogged pursuit of this mysterious character. I started to know things about him and his world, and make connections in his story, that seemed to come out of nowhere but which all cohered together perfectly. Without a fault, I would learn tidbits about him that would suddenly fit with another thing I learned later, though I never had to strain to achieve such things. It was not so much that I was “creating” the story so much as “recording” it. There were elements of his story that overlapped with our world’s history and it was spooky as all get out when I learned about historical facts through his story and later found them to also be reflected in my own world, which has a similar timeline to his. A sort of “sibling world” to his.

We also noticed the tremendous power of my emotional connection to him and his friends. My boyfriend at the time even became jealous of Asura, though I assured him that was absurd. “Asura is just a story,” I would say. And my boyfriend thought the same yet he, and others, seemed unable to ignore the fact that there seemed to be something weird going on.

And, one day, with horror, I realized I was in love with Asura—fortunately, by that time I had since broken up with my boyfriend—but the idea terrified me. Unsurprisingly, this sent a conservative Christian “good kid” such as myself down into a spiral of questions and disbelief.

I felt the imposter syndrome. I thought, “I must be insane.” Yet, no one, myself included, could deny the reality of this connection I felt.

Over time, Asura and his friends began to speak to me. They guided me and provided loving support to me. I, at the time, figured I was either crazy or eccentric.

“Maybe this is a writer thing,” I thought.

And it was that thought that led me to soulbonding. I learned of other writers who also had their “characters” come alive to them. Alice Walker, author of the famed American work, The Color Purple, allegedly purported that she had received her story straight from the characters’ mouths one afternoon, during which she sat down to tea with them and learned their tale. And that is when I found a forum site called “The Living Library” (now defunct), and learned the term “soulbonding”.

In that community I found others who echoed my story in various ways. Deep personal connections to entities from other worlds, many of whom they found depicted in the flourishing ecosystem of thought and imagination, stories, that surrounds the human race. Others, discovered their unconventional friends via dreams, visions, or odd circumstances just like myself. One person I met had actually found one such friend first, in this instance a version of Edward Elric from “Full Metal Alchemist”, before learning years later—with a start I imagine—that Edward actually had an entire manga and anime about him.

I say “version” because another amazing phenomenon I discovered was the occurrence of many instantiations of people, characters, from infinite worlds, all with slight variances from one another. That is when I was introduced to the idea of Multiverse Theory and Many Worlds Theory.

As my personal investigations led me down various spiritual rabbit holes, and eventually led me to spirit-working and witchcraft, I found more and more ideas that seemed to jive with my experience.

I discovered what are colloquially called “pop pantheons” in occult circles. Pantheons of spirits and deities who connect to pop culture figures in human society—and even figures from “fiction”. And there is a whole, thriving community of people who lead successful, fulfilled, and meaningful spiritual lives working with these entities. I learned that reality and “truth” are not objective like I had been taught so long ago. And I finally understood MY truth—all we have are myths and stories. Experience is subjective and the only measure of meaning and truth we have is in the effects we see in our own lives.

With tremendous wonder and happiness, and even love, I have seen the effects my unconventional friends and family have wrought in my life. Asura is my familiar spirit now, and I have a whole host of other beings whom I love. Some come from “personal gnosis”, or unique experience, such as Asura. Others are beings who have come to me from the vast world of collective Dreaming that permeates our world, evident in media sources, in the form of stories.

I still have moments of doubt. I sometimes wonder, “Gee-golly-whiz, am I NUTS?” But then I remember that my truth exists only in my own experience. My ethereal family brings me happiness, growth, and meaning. And there really is no difference between my relationship with them and the relationship I had with Jesus so long ago. Every experience is real to me, and brings with it change and good. And that is what matters.

In this blog I intend to share my experience, in hopes that it can offer a beacon to others in similar situations. Every person’s experience is unique, though I hope mine can at least offer some hope, understanding, and love to another.

Cheers.

And happy story-telling.

- Cosmic

[heybeybey]

Did I ask you the peaceful rivetra cabin one honey with a slice of nsfw ?? ( if I did already ignore this 😭)

Not yet! @himebee-5 And I'm glad you requested this! Anyway, you know how long my HC posts are so the actual cabin headcanon comes in halfway through (this is 1,454 words wtf) haha

This is 3 full cups of honey, a dash of dramatic angst in the beginning and two teaspoons of NSFW btw.

Hope you'll enjoy!!

Rivetra Cabin +++ (you’ll understand what the + is later on) Canonverse AU

Petra lived through the 57th failed expedition but both her and Levi were permanently injured. Petra came out with a spinal injury and while the doctors did say that she's going to make a partial recovery, her mobility won't be the same as before. 

Levi, on the other hand, lost his left leg. Both have no choice but to retire from the Survey Corps.

I want to add a dash of drama so in this Canonverse AU, the Military Police are forcing Levi to go back to the Underground. 

His temporary citizenship above ground is revoked since he's not going to be a Scout anymore and he wasn't able to fulfill the required service years needed to become a permanent resident (this is something that I just came up with lol)

Erwin tried to pull some strings but even he can't do much since the Survey Corps' reputation is tarnished at this point (same as what happened in the show). The MP tried multiple times to escort Levi out the Survey Corps HQ but Erwin and Hange always finds an excuse to delay it a bit (ex: wrapping things up regarding his dead squad, recovering for a month or two until he can be escorted back etc.)

Petra, stressed and panicking over the fact that her captain will be dragged back to the Underground, frantically begs Levi to run away with her.

Note that they don't have a relationship (yet) and Levi was surprised at her suggestion since Petra lives a decent life as a citizen born in Wall Rose. 

He refuses and said that he can run away by himself if needed but Petra argues that now that he's disabled, he needs someone who will support him.

Our girl got bolder since she knows that they're not really Captain and Subordinate anymore.

She was persistent and a day before they know the MPs will come knocking again, he gives in and they made a run for it.

Erwin and Hange def. arranged a few things for them and Erwin even expedited their last salary

They jumped from one cheap apartment to another just to escape the MPs and finally found a cabin they can afford on a slightly rundown village somewhere north and towards the edge of Wall Rose

It wasn't the best village to live but definitely still better than the Underground (or in jail, in Petra's case since technically she just helped a criminal escape)

Few years passed (let's say their universe had a happy ending that Isayama won't probably give us 😭) and the MP gave up on Levi's case.

Petra and Levi live a quiet life together :3 Both of them needs some support when walking so they do have a crutch (for Levi) and a wheelchair (sometimes for Petra) on hand.

Levi used his last salary and savings to open a small tea shop in the village while they used Petra's for their monthly expenses during the first year. The tea shop eventually was able to support them once it started picking up.

Levi thought he'd hate not being able to serve in the Scouts but was surprised that he did prefer this domestic bliss instead.

He usually prepares the tea while Petra serves the customers in their tea shop.

They'd support each other in cleaning the cabin til it's spotless.

Petra buys groceries every week while Levi focuses more on cooking and laundry for the both of them.

It wasn't easy living together at first since we all know how Levi is and since they're really equals now, Petra doesn't hesitate in speaking her mind anymore. They'd sometimes clash but Levi is the one who often approaches her to apologize and make up.

They both hear news about what's happening and Erwin and Hange sometimes visit them (I want a happy ending for this so Daddy Sasageyo and Hange are both alive ok)

They didn't immediately jump one another btw. They both know that there are already feelings between them but Levi's too emotionally constipated to explore it, much less make it official.

It happened 2 years into living together. Levi was watching Petra sweep the floor and just abruptly said that they should get married.

Petra dropped the broom in shock and her face was absolutely comical. While she and Levi did have a few romantic moments here and there (small but unofficial dates, cheek and forehead kisses given subconsciously), they never talked about an actual relationship.

Levi said that they're already living together anyway and wasn't her dad upset that she's living with a man but not married to said man?

He also remembers the time when they were still in the Scouts and he and his squad were talking about what it might be like to be married since Eld just announced his engagement (rip ☹️)

His only contribution to that conversation btw is "no" when asked if he wanted to get married lol 

Anyway, he remembered how Petra said that she once dreamed about getting married someday and having a happy family. However, at that time, her dream of dedicating her life to the Scouts was more important than settling down and she doesn't plan to retire for many many years.

They were both silent after that and Levi started feeling embarrassed. He tried to take it back, saying that of course, he understands that she doesn't want to since he is in his mid-30s and she'd probably find a better, able-bodied, younger man in the village instead.

Before he even finishes his apology, Petra said yes :3 (Girl has been fantasizing about this for years, of course she'll say yes haha)

They did a shotgun wedding that same evening and Levi started trying to find ways to romance her. It's all awkward at best and downright embarrassing attempts every single time but Petra wouldn't want it any other way.

Petra, being a romantic at heart, wanted a wedding dance and Levi, being a sap, gave in. They had their own wedding dance of sorts in their cabin the best they could with their conditions.

When they got the cabin, they shared one room but have separate beds. The next day after they got married, Levi found Petra pushing the bed together and she said they're married now and he usually climbs on her bed at the middle of the night whenever he has nightmares anyway.

The first ones to know about their shotgun marriage is Petra's father, Erwin and Hange. Hange dragged Erwin to their cabin the very next day after they received the letter.

Mr. Ral wasn't happy at first that Levi didn't ask for his permission (Petra scolded her father for being too old-fashioned) but he eventually told Levi that he approves as long as he's making Petra happy.

Erwin and Hange brought wedding gifts that can help them with their cabin (new cleaning materials, something for their fireplace and since Hange can be crazy, she also brought baby materials. Most are storybooks and onesies haha)

They weren’t planning on having kids but then Levi started reading the children storybooks that Hange brought and Petra noticed that he’d sometimes get this look in his face

We all know Levi would make a great father!!!!

She asked him to stop using protection one night and after three months of trying, Petra did end up pregnant :3

Now for the spicy HCs 💦

Levi wanted to make sure he does everything the right way for her so yes, they do have a wedding night. It was awkward the first time around but Levi has superb stamina 😏  so they did a few rounds and he got the hang of it the second time around.

After the third round, Petra was begging him if they can go to sleep instead. Levi teased her since she accidentally revealed that she's been fantasizing about fucking her captain for years. Now she's giving up?

Okay, that challenged her and they did one last round lol

Turns out Levi being a clean freak doesn't end with brooms, rags and mops! He's also great with aftercare. 

Since Petra didn't have the energy to shower any longer (also taking into consideration her spine's condition), Levi cleaned her afterwards while she just lay there smiling stupidly in contentment.

Sometimes, aftercare ends in more sex though since Levi can't help himself and he starts teasing her again.

...Petra got dicked down on every furniture in their cabin btw. Their favorite is the wooden living room table because it’s in front of the fireplace. 

[gracerings]

here’s a list of dean's romantic relationships and my own personal opinions about them and dean's feelings toward each of his love interests (disclaimer: these are my personal opinions, which means it's fine if you disagree, we all interpret things in different ways!)

crowley: personally I think nothing would have happened between dean and crowley if dean hadn't become a demon. dean never trusted him enough to let himself go like that with him, without the filter of inibitions being taken off. I also don't think dean had romantic feelings for him. crowley definitely did and he hated it, but dean.. I think he only went for it because he was a demon, having fun with hookups and threesomes every night and crowley was there. non-demon dean developed a begrudging sympathy for crowley eventually, something that confused him and made him almost mourn him a little when he died, but. I don't think there was much more than that for dean.

benny: his relationship with benny was definitely more intense, due to the circumstances of how and where they met. their connection was born out of a trust built day after day in a constantly dangerous situation where they had to rely on each other if they wanted to survive. there was attraction there and later trust, gratitude and shared experiences, something pure but also detached from reality, much like purgatory. however, all in all, I don't believe dean loved benny. I think he cared about him and was obviously very sad to see him go, but then again I don't think he could have asked him to sacrifice himself, if he really had loved him.

cassie: I think cassie was the first person dean could see himself be happy with. their personalities seemed to fit very well with each other and I do believe dean loved her, but in the way you can love someone you've only known for a few weeks (a month?). there was very intense physical chemistry between them that was mirrored by how quickly they connected emotionally. it was very much a first love situation (I'm not counting robin in this list, but to me that was puppy love, cassie was dean's first adult love), in which every emotion is amplified and felt tenfold. if dean had got the chance to be with cassie for longer, I believe he would have come to love her in a more mature way and they might have lasted.

lisa: I think dean loved lisa and deeply cared for her, however I don't think they ever really fit. In comparison I’d say he and cassie were a lot more compatible. I think dean was drawn to lisa because she and ben represented the heterosexual ideal of the traditional nuclear family he thought he was supposed to want. aside from the fact that going to lisa at the end of swan song was basically sam's dying wish, I think in that moment in particular he was probably drawn to the comfort of a stable traditional family, after losing his own (with sam dying and cas leaving to fix the situation in heaven). overall I think dean and lisa's relationship provided comfort and a sense of belonging, but I don't believe he was ever truly happy while he was with her, partly because he was still grieving, but also because he was changing parts of himself to try and adapt to the traditional role of husband/father he was trying to fulfill.

cas: in comparison with all the other relationships listed before, dean's relationship with cas is in another league entirely. the depth and intensity of their connection and dean's feelings for him become even more obvious when you compare them to dean's other love interests. aside from the slow burn spanning 12 years, aside from the symbolism surrounding their story, at its core their relationship is one rooted in a profound bond of friendship. it's utter trust and mutual respect and love, it's devotion and shared values, it's knowing one other so well but still being able to surprise each other, it's companionship and partnership, inside jokes and found family. it's shared trauma and mirrored experiences, it's silent communication, affection and care, it's indulging but also cherishing each other's quirks and interests, it's deep mutual understanding and compatibility. it's selfless and it's genuine and it's real, the only real thing in the universe and an active act of free will. I believe dean is in love with cas, like he's never been with anyone else. there is an unconditional quality to his feelings for cas that wasn't there with any of his other relationships. It’s not something he fully understands of course and it takes him years to even start to recognize the nature of those feelings (which he then proceeds to bury as deep as possible), but dean is always choosing cas over and over. he cares for him and worries about him constantly, and even when he’s pissed at him, he actively tries to fix it and he knows he will forgive him, no questions asked. and even despite how difficult it is for dean to vocalize emotions and feelings, there are multiple times where he genuinely tries to do that for cas, because he wants him to know and he wants to share those feelings with him. he finds cas endearing, he values his advice and his opinions, he likes to make him smile and cas makes him smile too. he feels comfortable in talking about personal stuff with him even early on during their friendship and he wants cas to do the same, he’s utterly devastated when cas is gone, he wants to protect him despite cas being an actual angel of the lord. he makes him watch his favorite movies because he likes sharing things with him, he loves cas’ quirks and personality. he trusts him, he relies on him and he wants him to stay, he always wants him to stay.

[rokutouxei]

only this wonder remains

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark isaac newton/reader | gen | 2948 | [ao3]

or: the 5 times isaac tried to understand, and the one time he realized he didn’t have to. 

for my beloved friend @pathofcomets!

happiest, happiest, happiest birthday to the absolute kindest and most loving and most encouraging person i have ever met in my entire life! i may or may not have reread your isaac fics a billion times to get him quite like you like, and if i missed, at least enjoy the fact that um, i’m having apples today in (the both of) your honor? te iubesc, mama: thank you for joining me in this stupid crazy journey that is 19th century france with vampires.

--

(one)

isaac newton likes things set into order.

math, math is great—math is numbers and patterns and those things make sense and the order is there. physics too: everything in the universe has a set structure, and it’s all just figuring out what that structure is and what it entails. isaac newton likes things in neat rows in color-coded, labeled, square boxes in his mind.

and that is everything you aren’t.

which is why isaac doesn’t quite understand how he’s fallen in love with you so fast. emotionally, yes, sure, emotions, are, he supposes, a thing, but rationally? he doesn’t understand it. where he likes predictability, you are anything but. you are new dishes being served during dinners. you are excited squealing as you’re reading a book. you are catching his hedgehog (very nervously) from its hiding nook, after it was chased by the exponentially larger dogs. you are songs he’s never heard, songs from centuries in the future. you are wide eyes and open arms and isaac doesn’t understand.

but he adores it.

appreciates it.

the day after you’d decided to stay in the mansion, and the door had stayed shut throughout the rest of the fateful, crescent-moon night, vincent takes home with him a basketful of apple strudels, gifted to him by the lovely baker downtown.

you aren’t able to get one before dinner, but just right around midnight, you remember they are there. with a sudden burst of excitement, you pull at isaac’s sleeve until he accompanies you downstairs. your eyes shine like crystals in the kitchen light as you bite into the sweet bread—and isaac… isaac doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that fills him at the sight of it.

you turn to him quickly, offering him a bite. “you like apples, don’t you?”

the sound of dazai’s and arthur’s voices compound in his head, every single apple joke thrown at his direction over the past what-feels-like-a-million-years echoing in the caverns of his skull, taunting him.

but he doesn’t mind.

he doesn’t know why he doesn’t mind being unfolded like this, but he doesn’t.

he takes a bite of the strudel and sighs at the sweetness.

“it’s delicious.”

-

(two)

he tries, he absolutely tries his damnedest to sound nonchalant, but he fails. rather miserably, too. he’s still standing at the doorway of your room, hesitating to enter even when you’d already opened the door for him.

“where are you going?”

you finish twirling a lock of hair into place, before turning away from the mirror and toward him. “ah, comte’s taking me out dress shopping.”

again, he hears you nearly say; but then why are you still going? “don’t you have enough clothes?”

securing your earrings into place, you sit up from your dresser chair to approach him. “‘the most important of the labours of a high society woman in this late 19th century,’” you begin, “‘is to look beautiful.’ … that’s what le comte always tells me.”

“labours that you already fulfil,” isaac notes. the sudden admission makes you flush, so you pull him by the wrist and guide him toward the bed. now seated next to each other, you entangle your fingers with his.

“we’ll be back before dusk,” you try to appease him. “i’ll ask comte if we can do a detour at that bakery with the strudels we like.”

for a moment, isaac is silent; his hand twitches in yours as he considers. of course, he knows that comte means no harm. if anything, the worst is that comte is quite overbearing with how gracious he is at times. there’s no reason to be feeling this way, to be even doubting, he just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with him to the university library—he has to pick up a book he forgot to borrow, and maybe, just maybe, he was thinking of a picnic while you’re already out in the city, that’s all, you can always do that some time else, and so why is he—

he groans. by jove, why is this so hard. he turns and presses his face into the junction of your shoulder and neck; the fabric of your dress is in the way of the thrum of your pulse, but not quite thick enough so he still feels your warmth.

you laugh like it tickles, and he’s about to straighten up when you take his face in your small hands, holding him at eye level to you, your gaze so beautifully clear and bright. it’s as if no matter how hard he tries, with you he is see-through.

“i’ll make it up to you,” you say, pressing a little kiss at the corner of his lip, “…tonight.”

all at once, he doesn’t understand why the sour, sour feeling in his chest suddenly tastes so sweet.

-

(three)

you were radiant.

that was, to say the least. isaac wasn’t knowledgeable about fashion, not a bit. sure, he can vaguely tell what an “average” outfit is (cue the several lengthy discussions to alleviate confusion when sebastian had kindly gifted you with a few items of clothing to wear around the mansion that were, say, anachronistic) but trends and styles are beyond him. to him, if the clothes can protect him from the elements, they are enough, and doing their job.  

but seeing you out there in the ball room? made him realize that maybe… maybe that wasn’t the only point after all.

he’s wearing the most fashionable get-up for the night (because, alas, comte would not let a single one of his residents leave without the best of suits) and yet he feels so… underdressed, looking at you.

which is probably just about right, considering this is the party to celebrate your first year spent at the mansion.

(the first of many, he hopes.)

isaac returns to memorizing the details of your outfit. a beautiful silk gown in this sort of matte gold, embellished with swathes of intricate lace. the cut of the dress is made to accentuate your best features, and oh, the low scoop of the neckline, revealing your shoulders, emphasizing the milky skin beneath, maybe, a place to sink his teeth…

you’re off to a corner of the ballroom across him, engaged in discussion with mozart and theo while you’re holding a glass of alcohol. (he knows you enough to be nearly entirely sure it’s probably a non-alcoholic drink in your glass, just the right shade to seem like so.) mozart says something that makes you laugh, hand flying to your mouth.

(isaac seethes inwardly, wonders what the pianist could have said.)

theo makes eye contact with isaac across the room, and isaac quickly turns away from the man’s pointed smile. and because he does, he doesn’t get to prepare himself for when you inevitably approach him—having been goaded by theo—bumping isaac’s shoulders lightly.

he takes half a second to curse that wily little brother-obsessed man.

“won’t the great professor ayscough honor me with a dance?”

he doesn’t understand why, doesn’t understand why allows this—for him to be tossed and turned in a surge of emotions and thoughts and things he really hadn’t bothered to consider in the past, for him to be oh so irrevocably twined around your finger.

“what makes you think you can do this to my poor heart?” he whispers, and your laugh—oh, your laugh, fills him to the very core.

-

(four)

a part of him curses napoleon for saying it; another part of him thanks him.

the three of you were on your way back to the mansion after an afternoon teaching the kids in the city at the usual spot when napoleon had—rather absentmindedly, almost as if off-handedly—mentioned that the kids seemed to be more… obedient when you were around. you’d raised an eyebrow at him, explaining that you’re actually rather, say, awkward with kids. napoleon had shrugged the comment off, going on a tangent that they seemed to be more likely to follow instructions when it was you who’d call them out, as compared to him and isaac.

and then, the heaviest words in the world.

“maybe it’s because you’re like a mother to them.”

it was too early. you and isaac had never thought of kids and—you’d never really thought of anything, rather. there was only the now, and isaac found himself rather enjoying the pace. should he have discussed this with you already? was this of utmost importance? what if you didn’t want kids with him? what if you did? what does it mean—to do that? what changes? what stays? what—

“pfft,” you chuckle. “that’s only because the two of you are more like cheeky older brothers than teachers, you brats.”

after the corresponding laughter, the conversation soon swerved to other things. but isaac couldn’t leave it at that. instead, it lingered and clawed at his brain for the following days to no end, always making its presence known at the back of his mind whenever he’s thought it’s past him. he hadn’t thought of bringing it up to you because, again, it seemed like you’d taken the entire thing in stride, as you always do, with the grace and wisdom of someone literally beyond his time…

but most importantly, because he didn’t feel like he was ready to hear the answer quite yet.

alas, the universe does not wait for one to be ready for things.

the next time the three of you are downtown, you’re humming as you produce a little jar full of homemade candy as a reward for the children’s hard work of studying. (isaac huffs a little; it’s just calculus, it’s not so bad.) the enthusiastic children rush toward you, and you gently get to their level, squatting down and handing them two candies each.

isaac… is stuck into place, watching intently as you greet each child; you know them by name, know their nicknames; you match the candy appropriately to their favorite flavors, pat them on the head, ruffle their hair, pinch their cheek gently. you compliment the little flowers the girl has put in her hair, enthuse about how the three rag-tag boys look stronger than ever.

and isaac—well, he doesn’t understand why he knows but he knows: this, this is what happiness is.

your smile, the star-like shimmer in your eyes, the sound of your laughter intermingling with those of the children the both of you (!) are raising to be dreamers and thinkers of the future.

isaac is helpless; no science can explain this; unable to do anything but allow you to knock him to his knees like a beam of sunlight shot through the prism of his heart.

flooding his world in a spectrum of colors.

-

(five)

on one night you don’t feel entirely upright, you confide your deepest fears to isaac. these were fears he’d thought were to be expected—fears that made sense—but he hadn’t realized were actually hiding in your shadows. worries and frets about the uprooting from home, the time and the place of your existence. the weight of the knowledge of what comes in the future, the foresight of it. the instability—the unsureness.

isaac does not know what to do with all this. he cradles every word in his hands, holds them so carefully like they will shatter, feels each shaky intake of your breath sink underneath his skin like some sort of warning, some sort of premonition.

of the one day you might have to let her go.

of the one day you might have to do the right thing.

of the one day it will hurt.

of the one day. and you will never understand why.

but isaac is no longer afraid of them.

(he doesn’t know why yet, but he will soon.)

instead, he holds you in his arms in the silver glow of the moonlight, until your shaking stops. until you feel gravity settle you back onto the bed, just like all that isaac had written of it. until you press your face into his chest and sigh deeply. until your exhales feel lighter, like you’ve expelled all the thick fog that rested between your bones.

and isaac… isaac doesn’t know if he should ask, if he has the right to ask, if asking will make a difference, but the part of him that constantly wants to be able to understand things makes him, so he asks—

“what made you stay?”

and the answer is so simple, it’s rather silly how he doesn’t understand.

“because i have you.”

-

(+ one)

long before he had met saint-germain and had hidden away in the count’s mansion for silence, isaac newton was, ultimately, just a mere human: one that tried to make sense of the world around him, set them into categories and definitions that were easy to understand, and thus use. but a human nonetheless. and hundreds of years back, long before the turn of the century in paris, france, in the arms of the only woman he feels like he has ever truly known to really love, there was a little fairy tale he believed in: one that they’d called the philosopher’s stone.

a stone of ridiculous, preposterous qualities. it could turn simple metals into gold and silver. it could heal all and any sort of illness. it could make someone live longer. it could turn crystals into precious stones. it could revive the dead. it could make you immortal.

just by its mere existence, it could give someone the power to turn one thing into something entirely different.

and now, with the scientific development of the late 19th century—and even further, far into the future where you’ve come (he’d asked)—there is still no philosopher’s stone. the facts are in: it is not real, and centuries spent attempting to create this enchanted thing have led to not a single step toward proving its existence. it’s a powerful thing that is too great, it just isn’t allowed to exist.

that was what isaac thought, except as of late.

because maybe… maybe the power is already in human hands.

after all, what else would have given you the ability to make him like this? how else to explain all the miracles you’ve done: to fill the parts of him that used to be hollow; to heal him of the wounds he’d been putting aside; to revive the portions of his heart that he thought—and he’d kept—long dead?

to turn him into gold?

it is morning now, just past sunrise of september 1st, and you’re lying next to him on his bed, still fast asleep. just the sound of your even breathing fills him with a breathless joy it makes him feel rather stupid. the sheer fabric of your nightgown is not enough to hide the pink, red parts where he’d kissed and marked you last night. he wants to run his fingers through your hair, but doesn’t, lest he wakes you up.

he’d pledged his humanity aside for silence, and a space to think, and oh, have you given it to him.

this is what peace feels like, he thinks.

gently, he takes out of its hiding spot a rectangular box. opens it and takes out its contents: a pair of earrings (which he’ll give you later), and a lovely golden necklace studded with pearls; little flowers and suns down to the middle, where a hefty ruby glimmers deep blood red.

just like a philosopher’s stone.

he tries not to wake you, when he strings his little gift around your neck, but the movements jostle you, and just as he clasps it closed at your nape, you wake.

you turn to face your lover with “good morning” halfway out your lips when you feel the cool of the necklace on your bare skin. you look down at the intricate piece of jewelry, the smile uncontrollable on your sweet, still sleep-hazy face.

“isaac—”

“la mulţi ani,” he says—or, well, tries to say, as his tongue curves awkwardly around the words. he does sound rather close though: he must have practiced, and practiced, and practiced.

“thank you,” you say, sitting up to face him properly. “it’s beautiful. i’ll treasure this.”

isaac’s brain is on high speed—i’m glad she liked it, i was worrying, what if she didn’t like the design, then what about the earrings, should i have given her a ring instead? no a ring is too early, this necklace is just right, also fashionable for the times. i asked comte about it—it was so damned embarrassing but i asked him, and—but he silences it, quiets it down by taking her hand in his, presses a kiss on the knuckles gently with his lips.

and, as he always has been, and always is, and always will be—he stumbles for words, clumsily trying to make sense of the thunder-lightning rumbling in his chest, how he’s supposed to say thank you for all that you have given him, all that you have made him.

so instead, he presses your hand against his warm cheek that is a fresh apple red.

“my favorite merișor,” you tease, brushing the stray hair off his face before pulling him into a gentle, warm embrace. and, well, he’d wanted to ask what that meant, but he quickly realizes it doesn’t matter, as he tucks the unfamiliar syllables of your language in his heart.

it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand.

and maybe, just maybe, there are things that he never will really comprehend.

but it’s okay.

he can be that merișor.

as long as he is yours, he can be anything.

--------

[title came from could i love you any more by jason mraz & reneé dominique]

[addictedtoeddie]

The full Esquire Spain interview translated from Spanish:  

Eddie Redmayne trial: guilty of being the most talented (and stylish) actor of his generation

The Oscar winner talks about what it means to premiere a film with Aaron Sorkin (The Chicago 7th Trial on Netflix) and filming the new part of the most famous saga of all time under the watchful eye of its author, J.K. Rowling.

By Alba Díaz (text) / JUANKR (photos and video) / Álvaro de Juan (styling) 10/23/2020  

At the Kettle’s Yard Gallery in Cambridge, stands alone and leaning on a piano Prometheus, a marble head made by Constantin Brâncusi, and the only piece of art that Eddie Redmayne (London, 1982) would save from possible massive destruction. He tells me about it as he leaves the filming set of the third installment of Fantastic Beasts in the early days of an autumn that, we suspect, we will never forget. It begins to get dark as the actor nods seriously: "I promise to do my best in this interview."

Eddie Redmayne made himself in the theater despite some voices warning him that he could not survive in it. "Many people were in charge to tell me that it would never work, that only extraordinary cases make it and that I would not be able to live from this professionally." Even his father came home one day with a list of statistics on unemployed young actors. Redmayne, who is extremely modest, polite and funny, adds: “But I enjoyed theater so much that I got to the point of thinking that if I could only do one play a year for the rest of my life… I would do it. And that would fill me completely.

Spoiler: since then until today he has participated in many more. He set his first foot in the industry when he debuted at the Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and won over critics and audiences. He then landed his first major role in My Week with Marilyn opposite Michelle Williams. And then came one of the roles of his life, the character he wanted to become an actor for, Marius. With him he sang, led a revolution and broke Cosette's heart in Les Miserables. “I found out about the Les Misérables auditions when I was shooting a movie in Illinois. Dressed like a cowboy. I picked up the iPhone and videotaped myself singing the Marius song. I always wanted to be him ”.

Now Redmayne is an Oscar winner - thanks to his portrayal of Stephen Hawking in The Theory of Everything - and the protagonist of one of the most important sagas in history, Fantastic Beasts. He plays the magizoologist Newt Scamander in it. When I ask him what it means to him to be the protagonist of a magical world that is so important to millions of people, Eddie sighs and takes a few seconds to answer. “I have always loved the Harry Potter universe. Some people like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars ... But, for me, the idea that there is a magical world that happens right in front of you, that happens without going any further on the streets of London, that. .. That exploded my imagination in another way.

During the quarantine, J. K. Rowling, who has been in charge of the script of the film, sparked a controversy through a series of tweets about transgender women. Redmayne assures that he does not agree with these statements but that it does not approve of the attacks of some people through social networks. The actor was one of the first to position himself against Rowling alongside Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and other protagonists of her films. "Trans women are women, trans men are men, and non-binary identities are valid."

After having spent a while talking, Redmayne confesses to me that he has never been a big dreamer not to maintain certain aspirations that ended up disappointing him. So he has always kept a handful of dreams to himself. One of them was fulfilled just a few weeks ago with the premiere of The Trial of the Chicago 7, a film written and directed by Aaron Sorkin that can already be seen on Netflix and in some - few - cinemas. “I was on vacation with my wife in Morocco and the script arrived. I think I called my agent before I even read it and said yes, I would. She probably thought the obvious, that I'm stupid. After that, of course I read the script, which is about a specific moment in history that I knew very little about. I found it exciting and a very relevant drama in today's times. "

And it is that having a script by Aaron Sorkin in your hands is no small thing. Eddie Redmayne has been a fan of his work ever since he saw The West Wing of the White House. “His scripts have delicious language and dialogue. As an actor, it's fun to play characters that are much smarter than you are in real life. That virtuosity is hard to come by. I really hope that audiences enjoy this movie and feel that there is always hope. " He remembers that since he released The Theory of Everything he has recorded, to a large extent, English period dramas, “and although the new Aaron Sorkin is not strictly contemporary,” says Redmayne, “to be able to wear jeans and shirts and sweaters instead of so much tweed is great ”.

Besides acting, art was the only thing the actor was interested in, so he ended up studying Art History at Cambridge University. “My parents are quite traditional and when I told them I wanted to act they gave me free rein but on the condition that I study a career. And I'm very grateful for that because ... Look, beyond that, when I play a real character I usually go to the National Portrait Gallery in London quite often. There I lock myself up. Now, for Sorkin's film, I went through a lot of photographs and videotapes. Art helps me to be more creative, to get into paper ”. If he were not an actor, he would be, he says decidedly, a historian or perhaps a curator. "Although I think he would be a very bad art curator."

Against all logic, Eddie Redmayne is color blind. But there is a color that you can distinguish anywhere and on any surface: klein blue. He wrote his thesis on the French artist Yves Klein and the only shade of blue he used in his works. He wrote up to 30,000 words talking about that color with which he became obsessed. “It is surprising that a color can be so emotional. One can only hope to achieve that intensity in acting. "

Like his taste for art, which encompasses the refined and compact, Redmayne seems to be in the same balance when it comes to the roles he chooses. When I ask him what aspects a character he wants to play should have, he takes a few seconds again before answering: “I wish I had a more ingenious answer but I will tell you that I know when my belly hurts. It's that feeling that I trust. In my mind I transport him to imagine myself playing that character. When I read a script I have to really enjoy it. You never fully regret those instincts. It's like when you connect with something emotionally. "

So we come to the conclusion that all his characters have some traits in common. "You know what? I never look back, and this is something personal, but I do believe that there is a parallel between Marius in Les Misérables trying to be a revolutionary, someone who is quite prone to being distracted by love but at the same time is willing to die for his cause, and Tom Hayden from The Chicago Trial of the 7 who was a man who had integrity and was passionate and fought for the things he believed in. So I suppose there may also be similarities between a young Stephen Hawking and Newt Scamander. There are traits in common in all of them that I don't really know where they come from ”.

When we talk about the year we are living in, in which it is increasingly difficult to find hope, we both let out a nervous laugh. "There must be," Redmayne says. “There is something very nice that Tom Hayden, the character I play in Sorkin's film, said to his former wife, actress Jane Fonda, just the day before she passed away. He told her that watching people die for their beliefs changed his life forever. In that sense, I also think about what Kennedy Jr. wrote about how democracy is messy, tough and never easy ... As is believing in something to fight for. I look at history and how they were willing to live their lives with that integrity to change the world and I realize that somehow that spirit still remains with us. " We fell silent thinking about it. "There must be hope."

I tell him about my love for Nick Cave's blog, The Red Hand, and one of the posts that I have liked the most in recent weeks. In it, the singer affirms that his response to a crisis has always been to create, an impulse that has saved him many times. For Redmayne there are two activities that can silence noise: drawing and playing the piano. “When you play the piano your concentration is so consumed by trying to hit that note that you can't think of anything else. Similarly, when you draw something, the focus is between the paper and what you are trying to recreate ... There I try to calm my mind.

Before saying goodbye, I drop a question that I thought I knew the answer to, but failed. What work of art would you save from mass destruction? "How difficult! I could name my favorite artists but still couldn't choose a work. Only one piece? Let me think. I am very obsessed with Yves Klein, but I would stick with a work by Brancusi. There is a sculpture of him, a small head called Prometheus, in Cambridge's Kettle’s Yard, on a dark mahogany piano. The truth is that I find it very ... beautiful ”.

Before leaving, he confesses to me - with a childish and slow voice - that he would like to direct something one day. We said goodbye, saying that we will talk about his next project. Next, the first thing I do is open the Google search engine. "P-r-o-m-e-t-h-e-u-s". Although Eddie Redmayne has trouble distinguishing violet from blue, he doesn't have them when choosing a good piece. He's right, that work deserves to be saved.

* This article appears in the November 2020 issue of Esquire magazine

Source: esquire.com/es/actualidad/cine/a34434114/eddie-redmayne-juicio-7-chicago-netflix-entrevista/

[the1918]

Bespoke, Chapter 5 is taking me a stupid amount of time to finish, and I feel so bad about it that I’m going post post a teaser here :) This is about a quarter of the chapter. Hope you like it!

Teaser for Bespoke, Chapter 5

[Story No. 2 in the Compatibile A/B/O Universe]

Pairing: Shrunkyclunks (Cap Steve Rogers / Modern Bucky Barnes), of the bearded Alpha Steve and Omega twink!Bucky subvariety

Rating: Story Rated E for Explicit, this excerpt Rated T for Teen

Tags: A/B/O, sugar daddy!Steve

***

December 15

Thursday - 2:15 P.M.

Elevators in medical buildings always smelled like rubbing alcohol and iodine, which was definitely not Bucky’s favorite smell. He breathed through his mouth instead of his nose as the elevator descended the fourteen floors from Dr. Pete’s office suite, down to the ground floor.

Bucky had left work early that day to catch his monthly blood work appointment. Unpleasantly sterile smells aside, he was breathing especially easy that afternoon, for two reasons. First, he had finally wrapped up the enormous project he’d been working on in his lab for almost eight months, and he’d passed it off to the StarkTech testing department. Getting that load off his plate was a massive relief, and it came at the perfect time; he could now embark on his Vermont vacation (tomorrow!) with Steve and leave behind the weight of work on his shoulders. Second, the results of Bucky’s blood work had shown his hormone levels right where Dr. Pete had expected them to be, based on the Heat time-table they were anticipating. No early Heat.

Bucky was more stress-free than he could remember feeling in six months.

As he stepped out of the elevator to the ground floor, Bucky immediately felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to find a text message from Steve.

 [2:15 P.M.] Stevie: Done at Pete’s yet?

 Instead of walking out onto the cold, winter-time city streets, Bucky found a bench in the lobby and sat down to respond.

 [2:16 P.M.] Sent: Yep, just finished.

[2:16 P.M.] Stevie: Great. Any surprises?

 Bucky knew Steve was referring to his blood work. He typed out his response knowing Steve would be relieved by the results, just as Bucky was.

 [2:17 P.M.] Sent: Nope. Everything was where Dr. P thought it would be.

[2:18 P.M.] Sent: He says I look on track for April, maybe February if it comes early.

 Bucky watched his phone. There was no response from Steve for a while, and Bucky worried that he may have spooked him with details about their time-table. The two hadn’t talked about Bucky’s next Heat much at all since their first and only therapy visit with Dr. Welsh, but Bucky knew it was hanging over their heads. If his Heat came within the conservative margin of error that Dr. Pete had estimated, they could theoretically be dealing with it in less than 60 days. With it would come Steve’s rut, and if they didn’t make any significant, tangible progress on the knotting issue before then, they could very well be dealing with something they weren’t ready for emotionally. The pressure, however silent, was there.

His phone vibrated again just as he was pulling out his gloves to head out onto the street.

 [2:22 P.M.] Stevie: Good to hear. You got any other plans this afternoon?

 Bucky frowned. He wondered if Steve was going to ask him for a late lunch, and he wished he hadn't already eaten.

 [2:23 P.M.] Sent: No. Was gonna come home for the day, help you out with the lighting installation.

[2:23 P.M.] Sent: Why?

[2:24 P.M.] Stevie: Because you have plans now.

[2:24 P.M.] Stevie: [Blue Serenity Spa]  - You’ve Been Sent a Link on Google Maps!

His confused frown deepened as he clicked the link. It took him to the location of some sort of day spa in northwest Brooklyn, not far from their apartment. Before Bucky could text back a ‘???’, another text from Steve came through.

 [2:25 P.M.] Stevie: You have an open-ended appointment starting at 3:15 P.M. Any and all services you ask for. I got you scheduled for a massage already, but you can change that if you want.

[2:26 P.M.] Stevie: They have my card info. Don’t you dare to even think about looking at the price list.

[2:26 P.M.] Stevie: Better go catch the next train baby ;)

 Flabbergasted, thumbs paralyzed and seemingly unable to type out another text, Bucky decided to just hit the call button on Steve’s contact. He placed the phone to his ear and he suddenly felt antsy as he waited for Steve to pick up. There was no ‘hello’ when the ringing stopped, only Steve’s teasing voice.

“I thought I told you to head for the train?”

“Steve,” Bucky began, emphatically. “What is this? You booked me a spa appointment?”

Steve was silent on the other end of the line for a long moment, and Bucky wondered if it was because he was more nervous than his confident communication let on.

“Yeah, angel. I did. Look,” Steve sighed, “you really don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d like this, I’m sorry. I just thought—”

“Woah,” Bucky interjected. “Hang on, I never said I didn’t like it. I just… I guess I don’t know why you want — why you think I deserved—”

“—You don’t know why I think you deserved to be pampered, Buck?” Steve interrupted, incredulous. “Really? After you just worked your ass off at work for months to finish a project that no one else could have even dreamed of doing? The technology that Tony’s been yapping to me about since before I even knew you?”

“It’s still technically in R&D,” Bucky muttered, blushing. Steve had always been supportive and enthusiastic about Bucky’s engineering work, but it still never ceased to make him feel a little bashful when Steve got to actually raving about him and his skills.

“Yeah, and the finished product is going to be amazing, because Bucky fucking Barnes developed it.”

Bucky laughed and fiddled with a thread on his sweater.

“You… you’re sure? I’ve never really been to a spa like that before, and it looked really nice on Google…”

“And it will be nice for you, which is exactly what I want.”

“Stevie…” Bucky smiled to himself and shook his head, a little at a loss for words. “I really was going to come home and help, you know. It takes more than two hands to put up some of those bigger fixtures.”

“Doesn’t have to be your hands, though. That’s why Sam is here.” Sure enough, in the background of the phone call Bucky suddenly heard Sam’s voice, hollering something that sounded a lot like, ‘go get a fucking rub down, Barnes!’.

Steve chuckled, and then Bucky thought he could hear him walking away.

“Also…” Steve said, volume lower, “last night, you put a plug in your ass and begged me to nail you on Tony’s conference room table. I think treating my baby to a spa appointment is the least I can do when you’ve just fulfilled multiple fantasies I didn’t even know I had.”

Bucky barked out a laugh at that. He looked down at the clock on his new smart watch—another gift from Steve—and realized that he really did have to head for the train if he was actually going to do this. He stood up and grabbed his bag.

“Alright… alright,” he conceded. Steve’s smile was almost audible through the phone. “You’ve convinced me. Thank you, Stevie.”

“No thanks necessary, baby. I wish you would let me treat you like this all the time, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Finally walking out onto the cold and busy sidewalk, Bucky was just about to say his goodbye and hang up when Steve chimed in again.  

“By the way, I just put in a call to Tony. You’ll be hearing from him very soon.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped. “Shit. Did he figure out what we did? I mean, cleanup was a bitch, and we definitely had to throw away that undershirt after using it as towel, but I think we did a pretty good job covering our tracks? God, I’m gonna be in such deep shit with him—”

“No, nothing like that,” Steve chuckled. “I mean, there’s no way he doesn’t know, but he also knows damn well that he better come to me first if he’s got a problem with it. Besides… He probably considers it payback.”

“Payback? For what?”

“A story for another time,” Steve promised. “Are you at the station yet?”

“I’m walking there right now.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go. Have a relaxing time, baby. You deserve it. And use your time there, okay? I don’t want to see you home before six. Hell— keep ‘em ‘till they close, if you can manage it.”

“Okay,” Bucky laughed. “Thank you, Steve. Seriously… and I love you.”

“I love you, too, and I really love you when you let me spoil you.” Bucky could practically hear Steve wink. “Bye, honey.”

 As Bucky walked the familiar route to the subway station, his phone dinged again, this time from Tony.

 [2:44 P.M.] Tiny Snark: I literally cannot look at your face after what you did to my conference room with your jackass boyfriend.

[2:44 P.M.] Tiny Snark: Do not come in tomorrow.

[2:45 P.M.] Tiny Snark: Consider it extra paid vacation, you disgusting pond scum.

[2:45 P.M.] Tiny Snark: Seriously. I better not see you or your vile beau again until January.

 Bucky probably looked like an idiot laughing so hard alone in public, but he didn’t care.

 [2:46 P.M.] Sent: Thanks Tony. Merry Christmas.

[2:47 P.M.] Tiny Snark: Yeah, and Happy fucking New Year.

 Bucky stuffed his phone in his pocket and abandoned himself to his thoughts as he jogged down the steps into the station, marveling at the wonder that was his boyfriend. Sometimes, he still could not believe that Steve was his. Steve—who had not only been a supportive partner to Bucky from the very beginning, but who was also a powerful and attentive lover, and—most importantly—the single greatest source of Bucky’s joy. By the time he reached the subway platform, waiting for the train, the sudden enormity of his gratitude for Steve had begun to bubble up and spread within the depths of Bucky’s chest, and he felt fit to combust with it. He had to remind himself just to breathe.

How had he gotten so lucky?

***

I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek! Their relationship is about to head in a very special direction, starting in this chapter.

[cupidoargiades]

incubus incapacities

incubus lee minhyuk gets assigned a task: to make your sarcastic childwish come true. the last thing you expected was for your sarcastic prayer to be fulfilled, but there he was, ready for you. technically, he was barely ready for doing his task, but he was ready for befriending you and maybe even more.

incubus: a male demon who seduces their targets in their sleep, to spread their unholy virus that is their existence. however, in my version, an incubus is a non-human creature who gives women babies when they cannot have them theirselves, carefully waking them up before making their childwish come true.

A/N - this is just a little experimental supernatural thing i wanted to try. i had fun writing it, that's for sure, but idk if you guys will like it? the plot's a little weird, but then again, it's just an experiment. enjoy! :)

TW - short mentions of illness, other than that, none! again, even though the incubus is originally a bad thing, in my version here it is NOT. so no worries, our lil friend over here will not hurt your character in any way, shape or form.

-

"okay newbies, listen up" hoseok said clearly, standing up from his seat to grab the attention from the handful of people. "since i'm booked full tonight, i'm going to assign you some of my clients" he continued, getting some ooo's and aaa's from around the room.

"jooheon? you get ashley. great girl, in her late 20's but she's invertile because of illness she has battled for 3 years. she's a tough one: knows no pain but emotionally she's really sensitive, you think you can make it happen?" hoseok suggested, having jooheon nod confidently. "yes sir!" "jooheon- not too confident now, one wrong phrase and you might make her cry." hoseok warned. "i-.. i think i got this"

"then, changkyun! you get.. joanne! joanne's really sweet, but love hasn't been in her favour. breast cancer made her lose both of her breasts and well, human males these days don't find her attractive because of it. she's been on the waiting list for quite a while, so she's excited to get the proces started. i know you can do this, joanne's super easy going" hoseok said, not even expecting a response. he just knew that couple would plan out well.

"and lastly.. minhyuk! you get y/n. sadly, because the internet was being rude today, we didn't quite get as much information about her wish as we would like to. all i know is that she just really wants a baby, and that you just really want to lose your incubus virginity, so.. perfect match, right?"

minhyuk stayed silent for a while, but nodded anyway: it's not like he can refuse the task given to him, right? minhyuk wanted more than a one-time-thing.. he wanted to find love more than anything, and he was positive most ladies wanted that too. for now, however, all he could do was go on his mission, and transport to your location.

-

'god, she's beautiful'

that was the first thought that shot into minhyuk's mind as he flashed into your bedroom at 2:42 in the middle of the night. 'she looks so innocent, all bundled up like that with her legs pulled up..'

he wanted to step closer, but with him being his clumsy self, nothing went without creating unwanted noises. he stepped on a shoe on the floor, making him stumble a little and make some quiet thumping sounds. luckily for him, that was far from enough to actually wake you up from your deep, sweet sleep.

an awkward smirk appeared on his face. 'do i really have to do this..?' he thought, kneeling by your figure. your cheek smushed against the pillow created a crease near your eye, almost making it seem like you were smiling. your lips were formed into a tiny pout from the slight open mouth breathing and your fingers were tangled into the linnen of your bedsheets.

minhyuk softly whispered "hey, hey hoseokie..? are you finished yet..?" as he did some weird non-human thing with his wrist. it was almost as if the people of his kind were born with phones on their wrists. "i can't do this.. she's too beautiful for this to be only a one time thing..!" he explained, hearing hoseok softly pant on the other side of the line.

"just give her what she wants and leave, min, i knew this would happen.. you get attached too quickly..!" hoseok grumbled, assumingly with his head planted against his palm thanks to the soft sound of a thud from his side.

minhyuk sighed. "stop calling me out like that..!" he poked your cheek once, and he immediatly felt like he was squishing a marshmellow; it was that soft. "hoseokie- listen.. even her cheeks are bouncy and squishy.. agh- i can't take this..!" he whined, leaning his forearms on the side of your matress with his head on top.

"how am i supposed to leave after finishing..? she doesn't deserve that..! i just kno-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA" hoseok screamed as minhyuk tried to cover his wrist to muffle the sound. "what are you doing..?!" minhyuk softly whispered.

"just waking her up minhyuk- AAAAAAAAAAAAA" hoseok continued, causing you to start tossing and turning. "fine, thank you hoseok" minhyuk answered sarcastically. "help much appreciated, now leave..!" he said, before hanging up on hoseok and trying to look kind and approachable before you opened your eyes.

"come on, y/n.. wake up..!"

"wha-.." you mumbled, wiping your eyes as you turned once more and opened your eyes to see the man's eyes staring at you with a creepy smile plastered on his face. you started the day with a scream. 'great, we love mad neighbours' you thought, before asking who he was.

"okay- scared isn't usually the first reaction i get but.. hello, hi, goodmorning! my name's minhyuk, and i'm your incubus of tonight!" he said, kneeling down to bow for you. "i heard you wanted a kid?"

"what? what's an incubus and since when do i want a child?!" you responded, sitting up and running your hands through your messy hair. eyes still wide open, he went to check your data as he explained what he species was.

"basically, an incubus is someone who gives women one or more babies if they can't have them theirselves, that's what i do. aaaand, you said you wanted a baby today at- let's see.. 13:02!" minhyuk chanted, closing his wicked wrist-phone and smiling up at you.

"what-..? is this because i said 'give me a baby so i can collect the money the government gives me and pay the rent for once'?" you answered, chuckling quietly but you felt like you were going insane.

"oh..! so that's what you said! you see, connection was malfunctioning this afternoon so... i only got the 'give me a baby' part.." minhyuk said softly, scratchimg behind his head before muttering a sincere apology. "so- do you.. want me to leave again? i'm sorry for interrupting your sleep. oh and honestly, i have to delete your memories of me after i leave, so in advance, i'm sorry for your headache tomorrow..!" he once more apologized, this time in a lighter manner.

"um.. i'm- still so confused.." you grumbled, sitting up and taking a few deep breaths. "want me to explain a bit more?" he asked, sitting down on your bed after you nodded. "okay, so it all starts at the moment where a single or infertile lady asks for a child.."

-

"and.. that's kind of what i do for a living!" he finished, softly clapping in his hands. you nodded a few times, and scoffed. "sounds like a lot of work.. impressive..! you must have a great stamina" you softly said, smiling slightly.

"yah.. minhyukie..! just ask for her phone number already!" a soft voice errupted from minhyuk's wrist. "one second, y/n.. hoseok..! were you listening this entire time..?" he whispered into his wrist.

"no..! maybe, well- kind of.. yes."

"you stupid little- if you tattletail me i will destroy you..!" minhyuk threatened, making you chuckle. "what's so funny..?!" minhyuk asked, now glaring at you. you immediatly pulled a straight face and shook your head. "no, 'hoseokie' is a bad person for listening in..!" you said, to make him feel a little better.

"but- if you insist.. lend me your phone for a bit..?" you suggested, immediatly getting his wrist shoved into your hands. "woah..! this is so.. creepy yet awesome..!" you said, barely above a whisper. you added a contact with your name and your number, saving it afterward. "there you go.." you said, pushing his wrist back.

"thank that 'hoseokie', okay? he's the reason you got my phone number anyway" you said, smiling kindly at him. "i can hear you, y/n!" you heard in a phone-y voice, making you laugh.

"thanks for the date, hoseok!" you said loudly, before waving minhyuk goodbye.

god, that dude is going to be a weird but lovely friend.. a friend that's another species?! people on earth don't even know aliens from other planets exist, let alone a different species living on earth itself! this is gonna be so cool!

thinking about him more, you remind yourself of how the universe was kept away in his irises, the tiny sparks of white being the sun in that universe. his body language was awkward, yet somehow confident. just maybe, you've gotten yourself a perfectly flawed, potential non-human boyfriend.

[aq2003]

today is international fanworks day, heres a list of some of my favorite fics

-star wars

The Silent Song by Eirian Erisdar When Qui-Gon Jinn is told to take a new padawan, the Force pushes him towards a certain initiate - but when Qui-Gon is told that Obi-Wan cannot speak, he hesitates. And all the while, Palpatine moves in the shadows... 

A Trophy, Nothing More by solojones After killing Obi-Wan Kenobi in 'A New Hope', Darth Vader takes a moment to reflect on what he's done.

Adagio by ruth baulding A slow movement, in a minor key, set on Tatooine post-Mustafar.

The Weeds in the Wilderness by ealcynn A man wakes on a cold and desolate moor. He knows he is hurt. He knows he is alone. What he doesn't know is what he is, or where he came from. He doesn't know even his own name. But there is something else that this man knows, and that is that if he doesn't get help soon, he is going to die. And on this strange new world, there are so many dangers.

Teachers by Selena "Remember, Anakin, the master learns as much from the padawan as the padawan learns from the master." Eight lessons Anakin Skywalker learns through Ahsoka Tano, and one Darth Vader does.

one door closes, another opens by isabilightwood Ahsoka runs through a portal in the Lothal Jedi Temple, and finds herself seventeen years in the past. Only to find everything is slightly different - her seventeen-year-old past self was just executed, Obi-wan is missing, and Anakin fell eight months early, prompting Order 66 just after her arrival. With only her questionably useful knowledge of the Empire as a guide, Ahsoka finds herself helping to build a rebellion from scratch. Again. But this time, with a few more Jedi left in the galaxy. Some of whom could cause more problems than they solve.

Reprise by Elfpen Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. Part 1 of Reprise

Hard Deviations by flute25 “The snares of the world were its ways of sin. He would fall. He had not fallen but he would fall and surely, in an instant. Not to fall was too hard and he felt the silent lapse of his soul, as it would be at some instant to come, falling, falling, but not yet fallen, still not fallen but about to fall.” James Joyce - Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man Obi-wan Kenobi goes undercover, fighting a battle against Dooku, the Sith, and himself. Takes place during the Rako Hardeen arc. Part 2 of Divergences

Drifting Starlight by Pandora151 Just before the fateful Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn is brought to the future, to the Clone Wars. He doesn't know why or how, but he knows one thing for sure: He never, in a million years, expected the galaxy to end up like this. Part 2 of The Journey of the Lights

-mcu

for good by Madelinedear "Sorry, May, we can't all be best friends with a celebrity.” May opens her mouth to retort reflexively, the words 'we aren’t even friends' on the tip of her tongue before she closes her mouth. Because they are friends, now. They’re way past that point. Oh my god, she thinks somewhat hysterically. Tony Stark is my best friend. (or; Tony Stark, May Parker, and the road to something like friendship) Part 1 of call you home

Exclusive by copperbadge Heroes In Manhattan: From Captain America's Hidden Talents To The Truth About The Hulk, We Debunk The Myths And Expose The Daily Lives Of The Avengers. Part 1 of Magazineverse

Watch Our Souls Fade Away by GloriousBlackout Nebula and Tony struggle to come to terms with everything they've lost as they make the journey back to Earth. Takes place immediately after the events of Avengers: Infinity War.

the rattle of their hearts by iron_spider Tony deals with the aftermath of Infinity War. He needs to get things back to normal. And Peter is an essential part of normal. Part 1 of rattle universe

home training by theformerone T'Chaka takes Erik back to Wakanda. Erik is a problem child. Part 1 of erik stevens, prince of wakanda

We've Made It This Far, Kid by EmAndFandems Tony's just trying to protect the kid from SHIELD. Why does everything have to be so hard? Meanwhile, Peter's biggest problem is buying movie tickets, until he gets a harsh awakening.

the spider-man conspiracy by tempestaurora  WHO IS SPIDER-MAN? The screen showed Peter Parker, sixteen years old and determined to prove the identity of Spider-Man over the course of the three-part documentary he was making, unknowing that it would become viral within days of the first part being released. Behind the camera, way off screen, was Harley Keener, Tony Stark’s other prodigy child, grinning like crazy as Peter started the documentary. Only a few people knew what was to come, and those few people were about to have a great few weeks. “My name is Peter Parker, and with the help of my friends, Ned Leeds, Harley Keener, and my Aunt, May Parker, who provided me with a lot of red yarn for this project, we’re going to uncover the identity of Spider-Man.” OR "what if peter just decided to fuck with everyone who didn’t know he was spider man and make a documentary about him trying to uncover the Truth." Part 1 of the conspiracy kids

Below Freezing by aftersoon (notboldly) When Rhodey crash lands in the Himalayan wilderness, it tests more than just his survival skills.

-marvel 616

Resurrection, Reconstruction & Redemption by Elspethdixon, Seanchai Doom brings Steve back from the dead. Hijinks ensue, some of which might vaugely be considered plot. Part 1 of Resurrection-verse

Winter Is All Over You by Kiyaar Tony can't remember why he's running.

Sea Stars by Muccamukk Summary: Steve comes back to life somewhere entirely unexpected; Tony doesn’t remember being a hero; something is rotten in the province of British Columbia, and the 2010 Olympics are doomed.

(Not So) Lonely At The Top by foldingcranes Summary: Riri has a bad day, and Tony tries to be An Emotionally Available Adult for her. It doesn’t go so bad.

Emanata (The Comics Will Break Your Heart Remix) by teaberryblue Summary: Steve Rogers has the opportunity to fulfill his childhood dreams of becoming a comic artist when eccentric billionaire, superhero patron, and obsessive comic enthusiast Tony Stark offers him a job drawing Iron Man. But Tony Stark has no idea that Steve Rogers is really Captain America, the newest member of the Avengers. And Iron Man has no idea that Captain America is really Steve Rogers, up-and-coming comic book artist. And Steve doesn’t know what to do about the fact that he’s falling head over heels for them both.

Changeling by Sineala Instead of deleting his entire brain and reloading from a backup, Tony attempts to erase just the SHRA database from his mind. As Steve later finds out, this is unfortunately not what he actually did. Part 1 of Changeling

Zero Sum by Crait Did you do your best, Anthony? And did your best only make things worse?Series Part 1 of Stark Disassembled

-jojo’s bizarre adventure

nothing like the sun by succubused

“All Jotaro’s other targets are dead. Except for you.” Malika cocked her head, considering Kakyoin. “After he came back the last time and he was…alone in there, I…grew him flowers, a few times. I wasn’t supposed to. But he was in the dark for so long. I thought he wouldn’t mind losing a little bit of blood as long as it reminded him there was still something left.” “What do you mean,” Kakyoin said slowly, “‘in the dark’?” Malika didn’t answer. White flowers unfurled from her forearm, gentle trickles of blood rising up the thin stems. She watched them thoughtfully. White poppy; consolation. She plucked a poppy out of her arm and held it carefully between two fingers. “You have to get him out,” she said. “You have to.”

AU where Jotaro is the evil brainwashed assassin sent to kill Kakyoin, who makes life very complicated for Dio by being better at counterpossession than he is. Part 1 of nothing like the sun

somebody's baby boy ain't coming home tonight by simkjrs He rolls back the sleeve on his left arm and looks at the scabbed-over words that have been cut into his skin.

KASAI 181 BRING PEN

It’s not like Jotaro makes it a habit to listen to what other people say to him, but this is too strange of a case. He doesn’t remember doing this to himself, but if he didn’t do it, then who? And if he did do it, then why can’t he remember? ---- Four months after Egypt, and there is something strange happening back at home.

I am the desert by catboysam Jotaro hated to admit it to himself, but despite the fact that he hadn't teared up when they left Japan, he missed his grandfather’s presence. After having him beside him for so long and through so much, being separated from him felt… almost wrong. Like another thing was missing. And the more he lingered on that thought, the more the lack of Polnareff's presence felt wrong too. Jotaro invites Polnareff to his high school graduation.

the sidewalk soldiers sing the midnight blues by queenieofaces In hindsight, he doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him that losing a hand might affect his hamon. His lungs are fine, but the flow of energy through his body is different now, no matter how imperceptibly.

The Best-Laid Plans by deuil Jotaro'd mentioned to Josuke on a few occasions that every plane that Joseph Joestar's ever been on has crashed and burned. Josuke wonders now if he's somehow managed to metaphorically inherit that trait.

Can't Go Back Now by etymologyplayground "No, no, he was not the devil. It is just that he was called Diavolo. … Well, maybe he was, I don't know," Giorno says. "Bene, he was the… director? Of Passione." "Boss," Fugo supplies him. "He was the boss." Giorno snaps his fingers at Fugo gratefully. "He was the boss. I should not care about him personally except that he made Passione sell drugs, and weapons. That's no good, you know." Jolyne slides her eyes over to Hermès, who is very resolutely looking at the road. She bites her lip. Jolyne thinks about the dime bag of weed currently sitting in the glove compartment. "Oh, yeah, for sure." -- Giorno and Fugo visit the Florida crew. Jolyne figures some stuff out about herself, her dad, and Hermès.

Untitled (1980-2014) by platinumfinale Jotaro Kujo, and his family, grows up. Contains spoilers for parts 3-6.

and the PTA meetings are worse by shonens Love thy neighbor. Or hate them. Hate them so passionately you trim your hedges in the shape of 'get fucked' in hopes of ruining their day. A collection of AU short stories about mudad, oradad, and suburbia.

[ericleo108]

🎩 My Political Philosophy 2019: Oligarchy, Meritocracy, and Matriarchy

This essay is an exploration of my political philosophy or how I think society should run. I have a degree in sociology which only emphasizes the ignorance I have on the subject. As a philosopher, I can only aspire to create the next great political and economic system. My attempt here is to give an outline of what I think humanity should be striving toward while maintaining a fair, prosperous, and efficient future. Much further study is needed.

My approach is both egalitarian and utilitarian meaning equal and the greatest good for the greatest number. First I will talk about how the political system is run now where the corporate rich rule. Then I will talk about where I think the political system should be going, which is into a meritocracy. In the end I talk about how there is patriarchy (where men rule) but a matriarchy (where women rule) is now better for society.

Oligarchy 

I know America is technically a republic but much research has gone into how America functions and it is actually an oligarchy. A small number of corporations make laws and get them passed through politicians they heavily endorse. For an in-depth read William G. Domhoff’s book “Who Rules America?”  If I remember correctly the story goes something like this. The people elect their representatives which are basically picked by those who find funding from corporations, the corporations write the laws, and the corporate representatives pass them. This doesn’t happen all the time but it is more the rule than the exception. The people who are really in control are the CEOs of the companies that make the policy that gets passed as law. 

Now we can argue if corporate rule is bad or not, but that won’t be argued here. If you want to know the negative side, which is basically greed over human wellbeing, read my post “The Result of Corporate Rule in America.” However, here I am more focused on taking the good parts from the current system and putting them to work for my meritocracy. The bad part about corporate rule is that they are narrow in serving their interests, but the good part is the country has a lot of wealth and is run by the most able. 

Meritocracy 

If we are to evolve our political philosophy into a better functioning system for all I suggest we keep capitalism and our republic and update our democracy and economy. Basically, I want to put in a point system for elections and safety nets into the economy. For a true meritocracy to function there has to be an equal playing field for everything. This includes political, educational, and economic opportunities. 

Some things in the country we would need to employ would be a higher national minimum wage that has kept up with GDP and production, free health care, free college all the way till a doctorate, and a national holiday on election day. Each company has to reserve a certain percentage of ownership to its employees. There should be free financial services to the poor like an “advisor-teller” money manager but only designed to help the poor save and produce more capital. 

In a world with as much wealth, efficiency, and technology as we have, not everyone has to work. Whether you want to work, or rather how you want to work should become an option you want to do and are passionate about. In a meritocracy, your job becomes your will and who you are. You are motivated to work because it fulfills you emotionally and spiritually rather than financially; it’s what makes you human. You’re also motivated to achieve to be represented better politically through the electorate point system.

I haven’t hashed out exact numbers but there would be an overall cap on wealth based on a percentage of the lowest producing income level. There would be universal basic income where everyone would receive, for example, $1000 a month, or $12000 a year. The wealthiest person in the country can only have 100 million times the lowest net worth. The richest person in the country can have more money but they would have to raise the minimum. This binds the fate of the richest and the poorest. 

Those were corrections for the economy. To better the political process I suggest we put in a point system for voting. We do that by making your vote worth more if you have achieved a certain status in society. The following are examples. 

You get one point for being alive and an adult. You get .2 points for an associate’s degree, .5 for a bachelors, and 1 if you're a ph.d. If you have a business that has been profitable for 5 years and you paid your taxes, it is worth .2 points. 12 years is worth .5. And that is where business owners are capped. If you can prove consistent monthly income for 7 years you get .2 points. 15 years .5 points. You can get there faster by working the same job for 5 and 12 years respectively. This makes employees and the employer equal. There are special circumstances where you can receive more points. For example, if you receive an olympian metal it’s worth .1 per Bronz, .2 per silver, .3 per gold. If your a tenured teacher is worth .8. You can add points over categories. So if your a successful 12-year business owner, with another successful 5-year business, won 2 gold Olympic medals, and have a Ph.D. you’ll have a total of 3.3 points.  

Some of these are arbitrary numbers and a lot more research would be needed to see what points are appropriate at what stages. It’s not based on the Amount of money you make or have. In fact, the whole point is to give power to those who can perform, not simply those with just money. The merit is not only how much they contribute to society, but their ability to vote correctly for their interests and the interests of the country. We would obviously have to get rid of the electoral college and have a direct democracy. The point system would also prevent a tyranny of the majority. 

The Patriarchy

I am interested in studying how a matriarchal society is different from patriarchy. I am interested in studying the political system of Finland and Iceland. It would be interesting to compare Finland with its new 34-year-old Finnish woman prime minister and the United States. Iceland held a women’s protest in 1975 and now their electorate is almost all women. 

I think the approach of a male WAS an advantage when aggression and military might was needed for conquest and security. But in the age of giant militaries and nuclear weapons, a more amicable approach is needed. The same reason why women have traditionally abstained from the military or become caretakers at home is the same reason why they are superior to lead now that it’s the age of the Anthropocene. 

Barack Obama has the inclination that women are better leaders but he gives no reason why. I think women are more fit for office because their temperament is more appropriate. It makes their approach and goals different. Women are just as smart as men but their thoughts are less testosterone and ego-driven and therefore better. Women are nurturers and naturally release more estrogen rather than testosterone which makes them less aggressive. This is important because thinking clearly, long-term, for the family has been an evolutionary attribute of women. Women are more evolved in dealing with a larger group and protecting not only her interests but the interests of the group.

I think it’s cultural why women don’t rule in America. Women don’t believe a woman is ready to be president. They're still too submissive to men. Native American societies were a matriarchy. I think women already rule, silently over men through interpersonal relationships. 85 percent of purchasing decisions are made in some way by women. I think America will eventually get to the point one day where women take the reigns of power and rule better than men through direct political power as the preferred candidate. 

Reading List: 

Who Rules America by G. William Domhoff

Oligarchy by Jeffry Winters

American Oligarchy by Ron Formisano

Plutocracy in America by Ronald P. Formisano

When Women Ruled The World by Kara Cooney

Societies of Peace: Matriarchies Past, Present, and Future

[addie-bear]

[ Here have a song too ]

Addie and Chance arrived back at their quarters on the Metallah later that evening, knowing that there wasn’t much else they could do for Keef, Honey or Dibbles. Addie debated on going back the next day to check on them. All she could do was show her support, but it was something, at least.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. But she couldn’t deny the gross feeling one her hair and skin. Some of it was actually dirt and grime, while some of it was more mental. Dealing with Dwicky and Harmonia always made her feel gross.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she told Chance, already pulling off her torn shirt as she headed for the bathroom. She turned back to her mate to get his reaction, only to see him nod silently. He looked preoccupied. She wished he would just let things go for now. Maybe... “You can join me if you want?”

Chance looked up at the request. For once he almost debated on declining. He was more in the mood to sit by himself and brood. However, a shower did sound nice. “Sure,” he said, following Addie into the bathroom.

The shower was pretty big, much like the rest of the bathroom. It had a frosted glass sliding door and maroon and gold tile on the inside. There were also two large shower heads that sprayed the perfect pressure of cleansing fluid (they’d had to redo all that for Iris and Addie, as regular water was harmful to them.)

Addie got undressed fairly quickly, but waiting for Chance to disrobe before fully entering the shower. Chance gave small grunt at the temperature. “Seriously, how do you handle it this hot?” he asked.

Addie snorted. “I’m the blood of the dragon.” She took his hand and pulled him in more, making sure his hair got under the spray. “I actually nerfed it from as hot as I usually like it just for you. Now sit still.”

Chance obeyed, chuckling a little bit. He actually was aware that Addie could handle her showers much hotter than this, so it was kind of nice that she compromised for him. He gave her a confused look as she grabbed his shampoo and started washing his hair. “You don’t-”

“Shh,” Addie told him gently, taking and moment to nuzzle the back of his neck. “Just...relax for a minute, okay, High Chancellor?”

Chance leaned into the nuzzles. It wasn’t fair how easily he gave into any kind of affection, knowing it was from years of never having anything close to this. To anything loving and fulfilling. He closed his eyes and let Addie wash his hair, savoring the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp.

He couldn’t help but remember that one of those fingers was missing because of his...

“Stop thinking about it,” Addie told him.

Chance almost opened an eye but stopped as Addie began rinsing his hair. “What do you mean?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just a feeling. I can’t like...pinpoint what you’re feeling exactly. Just that it’s not good. And considering what happened it’s not to hard to figure out what’s on your mind.” She turned him around and looked him in the eye, pushing his wet hair out of his face. She couldn’t help the smile on her face or the flutter in her chest. Chance was so beautiful. She wished so badly that he could see that. That he could see that it was actually difficult to remember the genetics that created him.

“At least I didn’t end up in a coma this time?” she offered. Probably not the best thing to say.

Chance scowled, reaching up and cupping her face in his hands. “I’m tired of him hurting you,” he said quietly, bringing his forehead to rest on hers. “I can't let him hurt you anymore.”

“We’ll stop him. We will,” Addie said encouragingly. “You, me and Iris. We’ll stop him.” Her eyes wondered for a moment, seeing a very new and very bold bite mark on Chance’s neck. Addie smirked, reaching up to trace it. “Speaking of our Tallest, when did you get this?”

Chance blushed at both having the bite mark pointed out and at Addie’s touch. The skin was scarred and still delicate. A pro and con of slowing down his nanites so long ago. “A, uh...day or so ago.” He was suddenly bombarded with the memory of being tied to his desk chair, Iris on his knees between his legs. He suddenly shivered.

Addie smiled. Good to know this distraction was working. Obviously whatever had happened must have been very nice, considering just thinking about it was making Chance hard. She leaned forward, licking along the scarred skin, even nibbling a little. She felt Chance’s hands reach out for her, and she rewarded him but swiping her tongue up his neck before nibbling on his ear.

“The two of you are going to kill me,” Chance told her breathlessly, his body already trembling with desire.

“Oh, no, you’ve figured out our plan,” Addie teased, taking care to let her breath caress Chance’s ear. “Unfortunately, High Chancellor, you’re far too late to stop us. Though I’m beginning to wonder if you even want to.” She reached down and began touching his erection slowly and delicately, more to tease than to give any kind of satisfaction.

Chance whimpered. “Addie, please...”

Lucky for Chance, Addie was much nicer than Iris. Or maybe perhaps more impatient. She wasn’t able to tease the human until he was a crumbling, begging mess. Especially right now, when all she wanted was to be close to him. To have a moment where nothing existed but the two of them.

She leaned up the smallest bit she needed to and kissed Chance deeply, her hands entangling in his thick, nave blue hair. This had to be her favorite color on him. It brought his icy blue eyes like nothing else. She moaned as Chance’s tongue met hers, inhaling sharply had his hands ran down her waist and up her back. She pushed him up against the wall of the shower before pulling away to trail her kisses along his jaw.

“Take me,” she whispered, her tone both desperate and commanding at once.

Chance nodded at the request, using a hand to lift Addie’s face up so he could kiss her again. His hands wandered down to her hips, squeezing them a bit as he turned her around. He pressed up against her as he pinned her between him and the wall. He moved his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her up and against the well. He pulled away, his eyes meeting hers as he slowly slid inside her.

Addie gasped at the initial penetration, her sharp nails digging into Chance’s shoulders. Her legs wrapped around him to keep him close, her breathing already becoming heavy.

Chance was honestly proud of himself for keeping his balance. The combination of Addie’s warm muscle pulsing around her and her claws in his back sent him reeling. He’d never get used to it. And would never get enough of it. He tried to keep his thrusts slow, but between his desire and trying to keep Addie steady, he found it very difficult. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became sharp and deep.

Addie gasped at the pace, the feeling making her whimper and moan. She knew her claws had to be breaking the skin of Chance’s shoulders, but considering he let out a pleased sound of his own, she wasn’t sure how apologetic she should feel.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chance panted into Addie’s neck, continuing to fuck her thoroughly against the wall. “So wonderful. Fuck, Addie I-,” He cut off with a loud gasp. He was getting close, but was fighting to hold back his orgasm.

Addie moaned louder at the sweet words. She wasn’t sure why they always got to her, especially at times like this. She wiggled her hips as much as she could to meet Chance’s thrusts, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. “Chance,” she breathed softly.

Their eyes met again, their bodies continuing to move against each other. They loved the feeling of having each other, of seeing the other come undone, but times like this it was more than that. A feeling of true unity, mind, body and soul. The feeling of no matter what they would always have one another. Them against the world. The entire universe. Dreams of beautiful future they would build together.

“Chance,” Addie repeated, louder this time. He thigh squeezed his hips and her claws dug into his shoulders deeper as her orgasm crashed over her. “Chance!”

“Addie,” Chance groaned, feeling Addie tighten around him. He cried out incoherently, continuing to thrust as they both rode their climaxes, savoring the sound of her continuing to keen loudly.

When it was over they sagged against each other, both catching their breaths. Their eyes met once more and they both smiled tiredly before sharing a sloppy kiss.

“I’m gonna need to put you down, Songbird,” Chance whispered to her after he pulled out. His legs were shaky.

Addie giggled. “As long as you sit me on the bench.”

Chance nodded, sitting Addie down on the rather large bench in the corner of the shower. He then all but collapsed on his knees and let his head fall into her lap. He smiled as she heard her purr. “...We still need to get cleaned up.” He was surprised the water was still hot.

Addie laughed, running her fingers through Chance’s hair. “We will, Lucky Star. In just a moment.”

Chance wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that before actually cleaning each other up and leaving the shower, but it was very late into the night. Neither of them bothered to put on an form of pajamas, opting to sleep naked tangled up in each other. Chance could only be lulled to sleep by Addie’s soft purring, his mind trying to race in fourteen different directions.

He’d leave violent plotting for the morning.

[an-ambivalent]

NSN: Seven [Yandere! Kim Taehyung] [Reader-Insert]

Series Title: Notice Me Noona

Synopsis:  Kim Taehyung was [Name]’s junior who just always happened to be where she was. At first, she brushed it off as a coincidence. However, soon, these coincidences became one too many, and his “small talk” felt like suffocating interrogations. It was obvious in the most discreet ways. [Name] perceived it as a small crush, and almost found the cliche concept of a junior liking a senior endearing. However, unbeknownst to her, Taehyung’s feelings were too intense to be labelled as a mere crush. It was obsession and he was TOO in love, almost to the point where he was even willing to murder just for her to notice him.

The Breakup;

In her small apartment, [Name] was pacing around mindlessly. She was subliminally biting one finger nail at a time due to her excessive anxiety. Just an hour and a half ago, she woke up with a headache, swollen eyes, and in sweat. Additionally, her stomach was sore in hunger.

Lately, [Name] was feeling extremely emotionally drained which was affecting the quality of her sleep. She slept for eight hours, but her body felt more exhausted and it felt as if she had not slept at all. She had eaten some fruit for breakfast in hopes that a light, healthy, and fulfilling breakfast would help.

It did not.

She felt full but the pain of hunger was replaced with the sensation of needing to throw up. Her anxiety was too overwhelming.

[Name] walked towards her small dressing mirror unit (which was the only one she could afford as a struggling university student). She roughly swatted the hair strands that loomed over her face to one side, before picking up a natural shade of lipstick, and applying it lightly to distract herself from her anxiety. Just as she finished doing so, her phone rang loudly.

It was an expected call. However, prior to its’ ringing, [Name]’s room was silent. As a result, the phone’s sudden loudness made her wince. [Name] grabbed her phone, and slid the green icon to accept the call.  She brought it up to her ears.  

“H-Hey,” She stuttered as a greeting.

Right away, she could imagine Mina furrowing her eyebrows and Vicki frowning in concern for her.

“Hey [Name],” Mina greeted softly over the phone. Her voice was gentle because presently, [Name] was vulnerable. This was her first relationship, and soon, [Name] was going to put an end to it. It just her luck that her first boyfriend had to be an anomalous personality. Mina thought that if she said the wrong thing, or spoke in even a slightly different tone, [Name] would break.

“Are you ready?” Vicki enquired, from the other side of the phone. Her voice sounded slightly static and muffled.

“I-I think so,” [Name] stammered, and her lips formed a forced smile in response, as if she was talking to her friends in person. However, her balant lie was obvious, and her friends heard her nervousness in her voice. On the other line, they frowned.

“[Name], it’ll be fine. Everything will work out. Remember our plan, you need to convince Taehyung to meet you in a public place, then texts us the location. Pick a busy place, so when we’ll be watching to make sure nothing goes wrong, he won’t spot us. Everything will be fine girl, don’t worry. We’ll be with you every step of the way,” Mina said reassuringly.

[Name]’s uneasiness did not cease. However, Mina’s words offered her comfort. It was in moments like these that reminded [Name] about how amazing and supportive her friends were. She was grateful for their existence, and made a mental note to treat them to some cheap ice coffee after all this mess would be dealt with.

“Thanks, you guys. I appreciate your support a lot. I’ll text you soon,” [Name] said.

“Alright,” Mina and Vicki responded simultaneously.

“I’ll see you soon, hopefully,” [Name] said.

“See ya,” They replied, and [Name] was about to end the call. However, before she could, Vicki screeched, which made [Name]’s eyes widen in panic.

“What? What is it? What happened? I heard a scream, are you guys okay?” [Name] asked, panic laced in her voice. Her heart was pounding loudly against her rib-cage.

“We forgot to tell you!! We love you [Name]! No matter what happens, we’ll always be there for you,” Vicki said, and instantly, [Name] could imagine her grinning slyly.

For a few moments, she felt too startled to form a response. Then, she sweat-dropped, before, she ended up smiling.

“I love you guys too. Now, I’m going to hang up before you give me a real heart-attack,” [Name] said, and as her friends mumbled a last ‘see you,’ she ended the call.

[Name] tapped various spots on the screen of her phone, until she opened her thread of messages for Taehyung.

There were no new texts from him.

[Name] bit her lip in disappointment and nervousness. She felt disappointed because with how he showed his love, she expected Taehyung to have had texted her eventually. But that was also completely egotistical and unfair since she was the cause of the tension between them. She had not even tried to make it up to him. Now, she was going to break up with him because he was too overwhelming. That sounded like utter bullshit, and a part of [Name] was whispering toxicity in her ears.

You made it all up, nothing happened. Taehyung was never horrible to you. You’re the horrible one. It’s all your fault [Name], it’s all your fault. Your pathetic, and you can’t even be honest. You just used Taehyung as an object to make yourself feel like you were worth someone’s time, but you’re not. You’re worthless, a coward, and that’s why you’re taking the easy way out again. Running away from everything, everytime--

[Name] shut her eyes tightly.

Her lips quivered. She needed to counter her thoughts, and reassure herself the way her friends had.

It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. I’m not imagining anything. It happened and I was hurt. I need to get out of this.

She repeated those words like a mantra in her head. With shaky fingers, she managed to compose and send a text to Taehyung.

Her text read: Hey, are you free? I was wondering if we could meet up at East Meadow mall?

She exhaled deeply. [Name] was not expecting Taehyung to reply, or agree to meet up at such a public place. After all, he always set up their meetings in very private places. However, it seemed as if with all her bad luck, some good luck finally existed for her because his response was instant.

Taehyung: Sure

The mall was not as busy as [Name] had hoped for, but it was still bustling with life. The loudness from everyone’s spoken words, footsteps and other various causes were part of the background. Because [Name] and Taehyung were sitting in the food court, they inhaled aroma of all sorts of different foods which made [Name] feel hungrier.  

Her stomach grumbled out loud, which made her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She coughed awkwardly before she started to unwrap her burger that was settled on a tray before her.

“We should eat,” She said avoiding Taehyung’s gaze. She kept her eyes locked on her food, and bit into it.

As [Name] continued to eat, Taehyung was staring intensely at her. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pressed in a thin line.

“I’m not hungry,” Taehyung said, as he leaned his elbows on the table, and settled his chin against the back of his hands.

At his voice, [Name] froze. Like a prey caught in the line of sight of its predator, [Name]’s eyes shifted to Taehyung’s. Instantly, she was hypnotized by his coffee-coloured eyes. She was unable to breath especially when she saw Taehyung’s eyes examine her up and down. His eyes lingered on her lips for a few seconds too long, before they moved back to her eyes. Momentarily, he adjusted the watch on his wrist, before he sat up and leaned back against the chair’s back support. The corner of his lips were twitched upwards in a smirk.

“You look nice,” He complimented nonchalantly.

The pink on [Name]’s cheeks darkened into a shade of red.

I don’t want to be here, she thought as she murmured a low “thanks.”

Then, to avoid having to speak anymore, [Name] took a big bite from her burger.

Taehyung continued to watch her.

A few minutes passed, before he sighed exaggeratedly.

“Is this your of making it up to me?” He said, and shook his head in disappointment.

Mid-bite, [Name] stilled. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“What?” [Name] asked in disbelief.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you making it up to me? You know, for all the awful things you’ve done recently. You need to step up your game [Name]-noona. This is disappointing,” Taehyung started, frowning. “If you really want to make it up to me, I can think of other ways for you to do it,” He finished, and a sly smile appeared on his face, as one of his hands reached out towards hers. As soon as their fingers touched, on instinct, [Name] snatched her hand away from Taehyung.

“I’m not making up for anything,” [Name] stated bluntly, and she stared at Taehyung with wide eyes. “I already apologized for that. You were the one who ignored me,” She finished, as she scanned the food court behind Taehyung nervously, in hopes to spot her friends.

She did not recognize anyone. Sweat started to form on the back of her neck.

Taehyung looked at [Name] with a penetrating stare. Truthfully, she was talking to him. However, she was looking for someone else. If she was on a date with him, and talking to him, then her attention should only be on him. But it wasn’t. His lovely noona was searching for someone else.

Where are Mina and Vicki?! [Name] thought frantically when she failed to spot them. Her fingers trembled as she felt Taehyung digging daggers in her anxious form. She was going to break up with him, and she desperately needed to know that her friends were there for her like they promised they would be.

“Are you looking for someone?” Taehyung asked stoically. His question caused [Name] to snap her eyes towards him and she looked like a deer caught in headlights.

[Name] almost couldn’t speak.

“W-What?” She stuttered forcefully, as she stared deeply in Taehyung’s eyes, which were filled with suspicion.

For a moment, he pressed his lips in a thin line in agitation. His nose wrinkled in anger, however, he inhaled and exhaled deeply in order to keep himself calm.

“I said, are you looking for someone? As in, you’re not paying your full attention to me like you’re suppose to. Who are you waiting for?” Taehyung said through gritted teeth.

[Name] was at a loss of words. She opened her mouth like a fish out of water but no words left her mouth. She couldn’t think. She felt timorous, her shoulders were tensed, and it was starting to be overwhelming. She would have given into her anxiety if it was not for Mina and Vicki entering her sights.

Both of the females were dressed in large black hoodies which covered their body, and hung over their faces so it would be difficult to identify them. They were wearing large black glasses that covered almost more than half of their faces. As they waved to signal [Name] of their presence, the [h/c] female visibly relaxed and breathed out in relief. Her shoulders relaxed visibly and she almost smiled but she did not, when her eyes landed on Taehyung. He was looking at her with a mixture of fury and scepticism written on his face.

She inwardly winced as she gulped. She needed to get this done and over with, and in order to do so, she mentally prepared herself.

Shakingly, she intertwined her fingers together, and settled them on top of the table before her. She clenched her hands until they turned white, as Taehyung watched her every move.

“I-I was just trying to build the courage to do this,” [Name] started, and Taehyung narrowed her eyes at her.

His gaze was piercing and it felt like he was staring right in her soul. [Name] felt exposed because the way his eyes were fixated onto her was as if Taehyung knew of what she was going to do. But that was impossible, right?

“I-I wasn’t waiting for anyone else. I just needed to talk to you,” [Name] said.

You’re a liar, my noona.

“Oh? What did you need to talk about?” Taehyung asked with a raised eyebrow.

[Name] gulped as she fiddled with her fingers.

This was it. This was wanted she wanted to do, she was sure of it.

“I-I want to break up,” [Name] said. The spoken words were ones she had prepared to speak multiple times. Other than the stutter in the beginning, she spoke them well. She was certain that this was what she wanted.

The response she received was not the one she expected.

“Okay,” Taehyung said, and shrugged his shoulders.

[Name]’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. She doubted her reality and thought that Taehyung’s response was a figment of her imagination. After all, Taehyung loved her and there was no way that he just agreed to her preposition so simply, right?

“What?” [Name] said in disbelief. To her question, Taehyung shrugged once more.

“Let’s break up.  That’s what you asked, right? There’s no point for us to keep dating if you obviously aren’t happy. Well, I wouldn’t really say we ‘dated’ since we didn’t even kiss… Not that I’m holding that against you. Actually, thank you. Instead of leading me on, and wasting my time, you ended it soon. So, thanks,” Taehyung said, and smiled.

[Name] gasped.

“Aren’t you going to fight me for it?” [Name] asked mindlessly.

“You want me to fight you? Even though you broke up with me? Isn’t that a bit too narcissist?” Taehyung replied, and raised an eyebrow.

The implication of her own words finally registered in [Name]’s mind. Her cheeks turned crimson in embarrassment.

“I-I didn’t mean to say that,” [Name] stammered, in a poor attempt to defend herself and reserve any dignity she may have had left.

Taehyung chuckled.

“I’m just joking. You’re adorable when you become so flustered,” Taehyung complimented, tilting his head, and giving her a small smile.

The hue of red spread further across [Name]’s cheeks. She felt beyond awkward so she covered her face with her hands. Right after, the sound of a chair squeaking against the surface of the floor was heard, which made her look up.

Taehyung had stood up as he picked up a few of his things.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Taehyung said, as his eyes were focused on [Name], who was staring at him with doe eyes.

[Name]’s chest felt tight.

“Okay,” She said in a low tone.

Don’t go.

“I’ll see you around,” Taehyung said, and watched her with an intense gaze.

“See you,” [Name] replied, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched.

Don’t leave me, her thoughts echoed.

Taehyung’s gaze lingered on her for a few seconds before he gave her one last wave, and walked away. As [Name] watched him leave, and the distance between them increased, her heart felt oddly strained.

She was certain that this is what she needed, and this breakup was for the best. But then, why did it feel so wrong?

Her gaze was casted downwards on the table in front of her. She did not notice when Taehyung was completely out of her sights.

[Name] felt nothing, until she felt two pairs of arms wrap around her in a comforting gesture.

Without her permission, a few tears prickled the corner of her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks.

“Oh [Name],” Mina began softly, as she patted [Name]’s hair.

Vicki was frowning, while she looked at [Name] in pity.

“Everything will be okay,” Vicki reassured, as [Name] returned their hugs, and wept silently. The grieving group of friends were too focused in the moment to notice the pair of coffee-coloured eyes which glared at them murderously from a distance.

chapter one | chapter six | chapter eight | Masterpost

[the-desolated-quill]

Avengers: Infinity War - Quill’s Quickies (No Spoilers)

Sometimes I think back to when the MCU first started. How excited I was that the Avengers were finally on the big screen. The attention to detail in regards to world building and character dynamics. There was no limit to the possibilities involved here. Us geeks were living the dream. Compare that to the MCU now. A bloated, cynical sequel factory churning out blander and blander movies each year, over-saturating the medium with what is, essentially, glorified B movies. Whenever I think about the MCU nowadays, I recall that scene near the end of The Dark Knight when the Joker says to Batman; “I think you and I are destined to do this forever.” That’s how I feel about Marvel movies now. I just feel this permanent sense of ennui. It’s like being trapped in a loveless marriage. Once there was passion and fireworks, but now the spark has gone out of the relationship and I’m silently praying for some kind of respite that will never come.

Avengers: Infinity War is a landmark movie in more ways than one. It represents the culmination of 10 years worth of collaborative filmmaking, it’s quite possibly the most ambitious crossover to date, but it also in many ways signifies just what a stupid, dull, incoherent mess this shared universe has turned into.

As you can probably tell by now, I didn’t exactly go into this film with high expectations. Going through the MCU in recent years has been like walking through a scorching desert without end. Black Panther provided a kind of temporary oasis, full of palm trees, beautiful lagoons and a luxury spa, but sadly I had to leave this paradise behind to brave the desert wastes once again. And having experienced that moment of sheer bliss in that oasis, the harshness of the desert sands feel all the more unbearable. But even then, as I took my seat in the cinema, I foolishly had a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Infinity War wouldn’t be so bad. It’s directed by the Russo Brothers after all. They made the brilliant Captain America: The Winter Soldier and pleasantly surprised me with Captain America: Civil War. I remember going into Civil War with the same pessimistic feeling, and while it wasn’t a perfect movie by any means, it was a lot better than it had any right to be. If anyone could make Infinity War work, surely it would be them, right?

Sadly it seems we’ve finally found the Russos’ breaking point. Avengers: Infinity War was utterly tedious to sit through. I was bored to tears. Not only was I struggling to make sense of what was going on half the time, I didn’t care about what was going on neither.

Let’s start with the most glaring and obvious problem. The characters. There are WAY too many of them. I swear you could easily have gotten a whole trilogy out of this. In fact I honestly would have preferred that. It would have given the story more room to breathe. Instead everything is just crammed into one overly long film that constantly jumps to different locations every couple of minutes as though the filmmakers have some form of ADHD, and none of the characters are allowed to get any kind of development. In fact they’re not characters at all. They’re chess pieces. They show up on screen, do what the script requires them to do, and then disappear once their purpose has been fulfilled.

There were some moments that could have been more impactful, like scenes involving Thanos and Gamora, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or Loki and Thor, but they don’t have nearly the emotional resonance they should have because they’re essentially fighting for space in this gigantic clusterfuck. Other characters, like Captain America and Black Panther, are forced to become these dull, shallow caricatures because the story just doesn’t have any room for them to really shine or come into their own. The focus isn’t on telling an engaging story or developing the characters, but instead on these massive, computer generated action scenes that I simply don’t give a shit about (in fact the final fight in Wakanda reminded me rather horribly of the battle on Naboo in Star Wars: The Phantom Menace). Not to mention, due to how poorly this whole arc with the Infinity Stones has been handled over the course of these movies, Infinity War spends most of its time explaining to the audience just what the fuck is going on and reminding everyone where all the characters are at. Doctor Strange in particular seems to only be there to provide exposition. (Quick side note, the Eye of Agamotto is an Infinity Stone? I’m sorry, have Marvel Studios ever even so much as glanced at a Doctor Strange comic before?!)

Oh yes. After all my ranting over the years about what a racist piece of shit the Doctor Strange movie is and how I stubbornly refuse to watch it despite being a huge fan of the comics, you’re no doubt wondering what I thought of the Sorcerer Supreme considering this is the first time I’ve properly got to see him in action. He’s... fine, I guess. Benedict Cumberbatch was about as good as I expected him to be, given what he has to work with here. Aside from a bit near the end, they don’t go nearly as psychedelic or as imaginative with the magic as I would have liked them to. All Strange ever seemed to do was just use these glowing disc things or this energy whip. Also the Cloak of Levitation seems to have a mind of its own. I don’t get the purpose behind that at all. But do you know what the biggest problem is with Doctor Strange? The same problem as most of the other male characters. They all sound exactly the fucking same. This is something a few people on Tumblr have commented on before, and it’s really noticeable in this film. The dialogue is practically interchangeable to the point where characters like Strange, Iron Man and Star Lord start to just blur together. There’s no two ways around it. This is just bad writing.

The crappiness isn’t limited to the protagonists neither. No, the villain Thanos is just as shit, although that didn’t come as much of a surprise. He’s meant to be the supposed Big Bad of the MCU, and yet there’s been no buildup whatsoever. In these 19 Marvel movies, Thanos has only appeared twice, both in post credit scenes. We have no idea who the fuck he is or what he’s doing. So the Russos have to shove in a hackneyed backstory and motivation for the fucker, and good God is it bad. Like... insultingly bad. Marvel often like to brag about how they planned all of this from the beginning, but Infinity War proves otherwise. His whole plot doesn’t make any sense and was clearly just pulled out of some hack screenwriter’s nether regions, we don’t fully understand what’s driving him to do something so mind bogglingly daft in the first place, and any attempts to wring any emotion out of us and make us empathise with the prat just end up falling flat on their face. I know Marvel have always had a villain problem, but this is just embarrassing now.

And then there’s the ending. Holy fuck do I hate the ending! Marvel have done some bad shit before, but this has got to be the most insulting thing I think I’ve ever seen from them. Without giving too much away, critics and fans (aka idiots) have been using buzzwords like ‘shocking’ and ‘gamechanging’ to describe the ending, but that’s objectively bollocks. For one thing, the Russos have had ‘gamechanging’ moments in their movies before and they never seem to stick (think back to SHIELD being destroyed in Winter Soldier or Iron Man’s dubious morality in Civil War), but the big pisstake for me is that Marvel have already announced their next set of movies. So we know what happens at the end of Infinity War isn’t permanent... and yet they still expect us to be emotionally devastated by it. Fuck off!

I’ve said a few times in the past that Marvel need to take a break. I’m now going to go one further. Marvel need to stop making movies altogether. 

The Marvel Cinematic Universe needs to end. 

I’m sorry, but I’m just so bloody sick of this. I’m sick of these cut and paste movies with no thought or effort being put into them. I’m sick of Marvel’s cynical greed and utter contempt for their audience. I’m sick of fans and critics kissing their arses and saying that MCU movies are the best when they’re so clearly fucking not. Ever since Doctor Strange came out, I’ve come to the conclusion that nobody is actually watching these movies. They’re basically the cinematic equivalent of dangling your keys in front of a toddlers face. Just show a few pretty colours, some punch-ups and bad jokes, and that should keep the plebs quiet for a couple of hours. But if you were to actually engage your brain, these movies quickly fall apart. I mean just look at the sheer bloody number of news articles discussing what happened leading up to Infinity War and posing theories as to why certain characters behaved the way that they did in the movie. Shouldn’t that give just a little bit of a hint? if your story has become so stupid and convoluted that people have to read news articles and stuff to make any sense of the fucking thing, maybe you’re doing something wrong.

No. That’s it. I’m done. I’m not watching anymore of these bloody movies. Infinity War sucked donkey balls and I never want to see it or any other MCU movie ever again.

[starkcontrasts]

Or basically a quickwrite i did in response to that scene in AoU after they’ve just been attacked and they find out Ultron destroyed JARVIS

Includes: Tony-whump and reader insert(but not in the romantic sense) bc I’m a mess and this shiz was unplanned and is somehow an even bigger mess than the actual author

° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You can see the pieces falling into place. Only, they’re falling all wrong. This wasn’t how any of it was supposed to happen.

Before you can react- before you can even think- Thor’s striding forward, one hand around Tony’s neck. You push off the table in response, opening your mouth to tell everyone to calm down. Steve talks over you but Tony’s feet are on the ground now and the air comes into your lungs a little easier. It had felt like you were being choked alongside him.

The conversation continues around you but you make your way towards Tony and Bruce. You hesitate to touch him because something’s definitely up and suddenly Helen’s asking questions at the worst possible time and there’s Tony’s “why can’t you people understand” laughter. Internally, you ask every higher being in creation where it all went wrong.

“We weren’t anywhere near close to a successful interface.” Tony says and you corroborate this when Bruce refuses to.

You don’t restrain the urge to throw him a glare. Intelligent as he is, he couldn’t recognize the signs of his supposed best friend falling apart in front of him.

“Oh, what so now you fall belly up.” Tony calls out.

Bruce retorts something about murder bots and it physically hurts you because the three of you know that’s never what Ultron was. What he was never supposed to be. Whatever he is now, that doesn’t change the fact that his original purpose had less to do with harming the Earth and more to do with protecting it. Tony explains as much and the derision in Steve’s voice is enough to make you scoff.

The good captain gives you what is meant to be a withering look. It’s a look of clear disapproval, rife with glaring notions of moral superiority and you squint your eyes at him. There’s a divine shiver of pleasure at the slight flinch you draw from him but mostly he keeps on talking and this time you don’t hesitate to place a gentle hand on Tony’s forearm. Brown eyes, clearly distressed to someone who knows how to look, turn to you and there’s a distinct sensation of your stomach hitting your toes. God, Tony. He looked wrecked.

Your face crumples watching him, and the hand that was on his arm rises to rest on his cheeks instead. The room doesn’t notice the two of you and the feeling is mutual. Tony looks like all he wants to do is crawl into a ball. He’s so tired of trying to explain to people who won’t listen, why a system of instantaneous planet-wide protection is more reliable than a group of seven people. Still is reliable.

“Breathe, Tony, I need you to breathe.”

You can feel the moment Bruce’s attention suddenly flicks over to you but you can care less.

Tony’s breathing isn’t any better than before. In fact, it’s practically inaudible, meaning it’s essentially not there and you resist the urge to throttle every single person in this room.

“Antonio, listen to me. Breathe.”

It takes a while but a glowing chest begins to rise and fall in normal intervals and you smile weakly in an attempt to steady the both of you, mentally and emotionally.

“You’re doing wonderfully. Keep going for me, okay?” Tony nods imperceptibly and you glance over at the now silent room.

Steel settles itself into your gaze and cold eyes focus on the God of Thunder first.

“Try something like that again, Thor, and you’ll find not even Heimdall will be able to get you out of here fast enough.”

The crimson-clad blonde furrows his eyebrows at you, as if confused as to how he had garnered your wrath.

“You don’t wrap your super-powered hands around the neck of someone suffering from anxiety and PTSD, you insensitive asshat.”

“Langu-”

Your head comes flying to face Steve.

“Tell me to watch my language, Steven. I fucking dare you.”

“Okay, why don’t we all just take a chill pill, Y/N.” Clint interjects from near your left.

“Barton so help me…”

“Alright then, never mind.”

The archer lowers his hands in surrender and you turn to Bruce, embittered.

“Science bros stick together, numbnuts. Don’t you dare think you can throw Tony to the wind like that ever again because trust me, I’ll make any wreckage the Big Guy’s done so far, look like a kid throwing a tantrum.”

Bruce flinches hard and you nearly sneer in satisfaction before turning back towards Steve and taking a deep breath.

“Since no one is willing to fucking listen to Tony, I’ll do the explaining instead and we’ll just see what happens if someone tries to cut me off with weakass statements like ‘together’.”

Steve opens his mouth to reply but you cut him off.

“That was not permission to speak, soldier.”

He swiftly closes his mouth.

“I’m going to try talking to all of you like you’re adults but if you don’t start using your heads like the mature, capable-of-thinking-for-themselves human beings that you are, then I will make it so your physical state matches your childlike temperaments.”

It’s very clearly a threat and you can see each Avenger(sans Tony) openly bristle and twitch to grab their weapons. Bruce wrings his hands together. The witch glares at you and you smile at her, all teeth and mock-sweetness.

“My abilities are stronger than yours, so I wouldn’t even try, Miss Maximoff.”

Pietro, beautifully complex Pietro, shoves a hand in front of his sister to keep her from surging forwards, all the while fixing you with an indecipherable look. From the beginning, as much as everyone seemed to focus on Wanda, you could tell there was more to the older Maximoff twin that meets the eye. You were glad to be right.

You take another deep breath.

“The Avengers aren’t infallible, don’t even pretend like that isn’t the case. What Tony- and Bruce included because he was very much included- what they were trying to do was create an artificial intelligence much like JARVIS that could fulfill JARVIS’s primary directive taken to a global scale.”

Confused looks all around. Tony shivers behind you and you grasp his hand, holding tightly to try and keep him grounded.

“For those of you who don’t know, J’s primary directive was to protect Tony. Ultron’s primary directive was intended to be the protection of planet Earth from outside forces seeking to enter our atmosphere and wreak havoc below. He was the brainchild of our science geniuses here, in an attempt to prevent anything similar to the fight with the Chitauri from happening ever again.”

You lick your lips, swallow down your earlier anger, and continue.

“Thor said it himself when Loki first arrived. SHIELD’s experiments with the Tesseract showed to the rest of the Universe, specifically to other, advanced races, that the Earth is ready for a higher form of war. Sooner or later, the rest of the Universe is going to come knocking and believe you me, not very many of them will be here to ask for a cup of sugar.”

“The Avengers can handle whatever comes at us. Advanced alien race or otherwise.” Natasha drawls from beside Clint.

The amount of conceit in her tone is almost laughable considering how much training had been invested to make sure she was above displaying her innermost thoughts so easily. In front of friend or foe, she was always to appear unbothered. Mayhaps, if Barnes had been trusted to teach her that aspect rather than just combat skills, the Widow would have been better at it.

“Come now, Natalia, I thought you were cleverer than that. Have you grown so lax in your training so as to believe you cannot be stopped?”

The statement gets a rise out of more than just her, and you can feel the anger in Bruce’s gaze at your neck. Clint and Steve narrow their eyes at you but otherwise don’t respond. The Widow tries her damndest not to throw a knife at your throat and its times like these that you miss Winter’s ability to disassociate. The Captain was going to be in for such a surprise when next he met Barnes. His best friend was less Bucky and more something in between Hydra’s Fist and the exemplary soldier, less the charming man from Brooklyn and more the damaged transitional phase.

Even then, he was still far better at feigning indifference than the redhead in front of you.

“I don’t care how super-powered some of you are, you’re still so very human. With a single thought from my head, I could disseminate your insides throughout the stars. I’ve trained with mutants and titans alike, and they’re nowhere close to how terrifying the races out there are. If I could kill you in a second, what makes you think Earth could survive more than a meager few moments against the might of the worst the Universe has to offer?”

Steve turns towards Thor, uncertain and hoping he can corroborate or contest your claim. The demi-god furrows his eyebrows, his grip on Mjolnir shifting.

“Y/N does not lie. Even I have yet to experience a vast number of the Universe’s most feared warriors. My Father has kept the nine realms, most of all your Midgard, sheltered from the rest of the starways for centuries.”

Tony breathes out shakily from behind you and you tighten your grip on his hand. Thor nods at you to continue and you stare at Steve right in his shadowed blue eyes.

“What Ultron was meant to be versus what he ultimately became was the result of ignorance on all our parts, least of all Tony’s. Firstly, you were all ignorant for believing yourselves unstoppable, and secondly, you were ignorant for believing Wanda Maximoff to be less spiteful than she is.”

“Now hold on, I think, at the very least, I’ve been keeping a close eye on the Witch and I think she’s pretty spiteful.” Clint interjected.

Both Maximoff siblings bristle from the edge of the group and you don’t miss the glint of red filtering into Wanda’s eyes.

“You so much as attempt to fiddle with any of the minds in or out of this room and I’ll turn you into a pile of red leather.” You state matter-of-factly, in her direction.

Wanda narrows her eyes and hisses while Pietro stiffens, legs vibrating with the desire to not be here. You can’t blame him, you don’t want to be here either. But someone has to say this shit and goodness knows, no one was going to listen to Tony if he did it instead.

“As I was saying, Miss Maximoff over here had a bigger part to play in Ultron’s genesis than you all previously believed.”

You state right into her hateful, hopelessly child-like, eyes.

“Wanda put the idea into Tony’s head that the faster Ultron came to be, the better.”

“And what does that mean?” Steve bit out.

You feel physically ill thinking back on it and it takes a great deal of effort not to will Wanda into non-existence.

“Miss Maximoff worked her third-rate sorcery on Tony’s head during the fight at the factory. She played alphabet soup with his head and showed him a vision of the world ending, everyone dying at his feet. And Tony? Tony felt what Tony always feels.”

“Vindication?” The Widow mocks.

You look at her blankly.

“You mistake him for you, Natalia.”

That shuts her up quickly.

“No,” Tony’s hand was clammy in yours. “He felt guilty.”

Several sets of eyes widen.

“He felt guilt and so much regret, I picked up on it even though I was here at the Tower.”

“Why would you feel guilty, Tony?” Maria questioned, tone delicate where no one else’s had been.

You turn back to see Tony visibly shaking, one arm wrapped around his trembling frame.

“Because I wasn’t dead. I had to watch as I was the only one left.”

And hell if that doesn’t do some serious damage to the sizeable egos in the room.

But that still wasn’t the whole story, so you finish where Tony couldn’t.

“And you, Steve, you asked him why he didn’t do more.”

The super-soldier practically deflates before your very eyes, lean frame going slack where he stands.

“Jesus, Tony.”

[cesabutterflywrites]

Prince in the Storm: Chapter Eight

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Virgil was sensitive. Most people saw him as some “spooky, broody dude”, when in reality he was just a private person. Teachers tried to open his mind up with a figurative crowbar. Everyone tried to get him to open up. Well, everyone except his best friend Talyn. They were the only one who understood his personality and inner workings just enough to be his friend. However, they haven’t seen his Marking. No one other than his parents have.

Contrary to popular belief, Roman was sensitive. Most people saw him as a fanciful, dreamy, somewhat egotistical thespian who wanted nothing but to be the best of the best. Everyone cheered him on in his performances. Everyone praised his original works. Anything he made others enjoyed. People would whisper about his Marking, wondering where it was and when he would reveal it. He had a whole circle of friends, yet no one except his best friend Joan understood him. Joan was the only one who saw Roman’s insecurities.

As students of Kingston High School, with zany principals and try-hard superintendents, it is up to Virgil and Roman to stay alive enough to fulfill their destiny. Ao3

Word Count: 2683

Chapter Warnings: None

Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen

Bonuses: Immune to Change

Chapter Eight

“Okay class, it’s finally October. Which means it’s Marking Month!” Roman’s history teacher, Mx. Reynolds, explained enthusiastically. “As we reach closer to Samhain-or Halloween, if you prefer-we get closer to the night where it’s customary to expose your Marking. Of course, only if you’re ready. This isn’t something to feel pressured about participating in.” 

In previous years, Roman would sigh in a dreamy voice and fantasize about how he’d meet his soulmate. He had written many stories for his classes surrounding his hope about what would happen when he found the one. The person he was meant to be with forever. He didn’t want to be the one to expose first, though. No, not until after he had established himself in his career. He’d always left it up to the universe about when he’d find his true love. 

This year, though, he was nearly sure it was Virgil. His nightmares had become more pronounced since their lunch date. Joan had sent him articles about how some soulmates dream about each other if they aren’t agreeing with each other, if they’re at a far distance, or if one of them is in major distress. Was he in distress? Was Virgil? Were they still disagreeing? He thought there would have been major progress since that afternoon. 

Roman found himself staying up later every night in thought about this dilemma. He was ignoring his skincare routine. He hadn’t recited his affirmations. He was spending more and more time in the courtyard hoping for the chance that Virgil would show up again. Logically he knew it was ridiculous to be acting this way over a possibility. A tiny likelihood based on articles of questionable sources. Yet no matter what he did, Virgil’s smile made its way into his mind. 

What was this ridiculous obsession? It would be easier if Virgil hadn’t been so opposed to learning about his soulmate. It was hard to not be able to speak to him. To simply get an understanding would probably help him feel better. Being able to go up to the dark boy and ask more questions. 

He had planned to confront Virgil after school after a week of ignoring him. Not that Virgil was trying to get his attention. If anything, he also seemed to be ignoring Roman. What did it all mean? 

Roman tried not to notice other people noticing his inner spiral. He knew he looked like a mess. He knew that’s exactly what everyone was thinking. Especially when he tripped on his lines in the theater club. Roman rarely stumbled on his lines, ever. 

Mr. D was extra concerned since they were starting to prep for their showing of Sleeping Beauty. Roman had the lead, so he needed to be in better shape than his normal.

“Roman, could you stay for a bit? I need to talk to you,” Mr. D requested softly as the rest of the club dispersed. 

“Uh, sure,” Roman answered warily. He knew he was in trouble. He wasn’t being his perfect princely self. He was failing, all because of Virgil’s stupid-

“I need to talk to you about your performance lately,” the teacher stated matter-of-factly. One thing the teacher never did was beat around the bush. 

Being on the stage together, without the roles of teacher and student, felt comforting to Roman. Maybe an adult like Mr. D could help him with his dilemma. They were friends, too. Adult input was best in this situation, right?

Roman ran his hands through his hair, noticing Linda was being very adamant about not calming down. No matter, he didn’t feel like calming down either. 

“I-” Roman started. His voice caught. Speaking his thoughts aloud made it more...real. He felt the familiar sting of tears welling up but he would not let them fall in front of someone. Especially a teacher. 

Mr. D’s face was soft as he walked up to his student. He laid his hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I’m your friend, Roman. Let me help you. I’m here.” 

Roman hung his head down as the words flowed forth like he was a Catholic murderer coming bare about his sins and asking for forgiveness. In short, his words were slow, emotionally charged, and nearly guilt-ridden.

“I think...I think I may have met my soulmate. I’m not sure, though, because obviously the true way to tell is to show your Markings to each other.” Roman watched his traitorous teardrops fall on his red shoes. “I’d confront him, but there’s two things in the way. One,” he looked up at his teacher to see an unreadable expression on the taller man’s face. 

“Go on,” Mr. D assured. He pat Roman’s shoulder as an encouragement, though it felt half-hearted. 

Roman took a deep breath, “Firstly, I’m a coward. I’m too scared to expose my Marking before I become established in my career. I need to know who I am outside of who I spend the rest of my life with...right?” 

A bittersweet smile made its way onto his teacher’s lips. It was almost as if he knew what Roman was talking about. There was a spark of what looked like pride in his green eyes. He took his hand away to cross them; a barrier concealing his true thoughts like usual. 

Roman decided to save his questions for later. “Secondly,” he continued, already starting to feel better from the raw honesty, “He told me that he never wanted to know about his soulmate...because he’s seen what happens when you eventually lose them. So I can’t approach him about it, even if I weren’t a coward.” 

“Roman,” Mr. D started, “Why do you need to know about your soulmate so bad? What difference would knowing who he is really make right now?” His questions seemed to sound rhetorical, almost. 

Roman huffed out a breath. He took a moment to gather a response. “I suppose...not much. Maybe a few tweaks to my planned timeline?”

The teacher smiled, proud that Roman was starting to understand. “Exactly. Our society puts this pressure on us about our soulmates.” He started gesturing his hands as he spoke, just like he did when doing an example piece for the classes. “We obsess over them. It’s a beautiful thing, of course, I felt it when I met mine-” 

“You know your soulmate?!” Roman cried. He was smiling broadly, giddy that he knew something else about his teacher. 

Mr. D sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, not particularly at Roman’s excitement. “Unfortunately…” he breathed out. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Roman didn’t really mean it. He was feeling hopeful that he could have his forever human and still have a successful career. If Mr. D could, why couldn’t he?

The now grumpy teacher waved the apology off. “No matter. Why don’t you head home? It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He seemed to have wanted to say more, but held his tongue. 

Roman nodded enthusiastically. He was chomping at the bit to tell Joan and Rachel this new information about the secretive teacher. He just got one of the many, many theories about him confirmed. Maybe gossiping about someone else’s love life would distract him from his own.

He ran into the principal on his way out. “Woah, there, cowboy,” the clashy clad man laughed out as he steadied them. He was wearing an atrocious green scarf with red pineapples that made Roman want to throw up.

“Sorry, Principal Duke.” Roman excused off-handedly as he walked off. He had successfully hid his grimace in response to the eyesore. 

When he finally got home, he called Joan to tell them about his conversation with Mr. D. He needed some serious best friend advice. Joan was the best for it, especially since they’d been worried about Roman’s obsession. 

A few minutes after he was done rambling about his conversation with the theater teacher, Joan was silent. Then their voice spoke up. They sounded more serious than usual. “I think that you need to confront Virgil. Just for your own good...We’re all worried, and from what I hear he’s also having a rough time.” 

Roman groaned as he laid back in his bed. “I know, Joan of Arc, I know. I just wish he wasn’t so Moody B. Moanes.” 

Joan snorted, “Make sure you open with that.” 

“Thanks, I will,” Roman replied sarcastically. 

“Sometimes…” Joan was back to being serious, “Sometimes ya just got to take the leap of faith. I’ll admit, I was curious too. It’s scary, but I’m done waiting for mine to expose themselves.” 

Roman gasped, “No…” 

“Yeah…” Joan dragged off awkwardly. “Let’s just say don’t freak out about my beanie being gone tomorrow.” 

Roman squealed in excitement. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen Smaug!” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” he could practically hear Joan’s eyeroll. “It’s Marking month, ya know?” 

The two talked until the late hours of the evening about their soulmate possibilities. They planned on how to get the information out of Virgil. Near two am, the two had come to some sort of settlement about how they were going to handle both of their soulmate predicaments. 

Roman grinned to himself, for once looking forward to the paralyzing fear awaiting him in his dreams if it meant seeing Virgil’s face.

---

“Roman? What are you doing here?” Virgil stared at the boy sitting on the bus. 

Roman King was on the bus. More importantly, he looked like he had been waiting for Virgil specifically. Virgil was caught off guard. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at the too-innocent-looking theater kid. 

Roman moved his backpack so that Virgil could sit down. He put it on his lap to hide his jittering leg, unsuccessfully. “Virgil-”

The emo boy’s incredulous stare must have made Roman pause to change his tone of voice. “Virge, can I call you that?” 

Virgil bristled. What did this mean? What was going on? “Yeah, yeah...go on.” He waved his hand forward and leaned back as casually as he could. He put up his confident mask. He didn’t want to scare the boy off without giving him a chance. 

The bus doors closed before slowly pulling out of the parking lot. 

“I was wondering why you’ve been avoiding me after our outing,” Roman gushed forth. His words spilled outwards in a nervous manner. “I thought we were making progress, ya know? We bantered, we laughed, we...we bonded. I just thought-”

“You thought we were friends?” Virgil raised his eyebrow. He was surprised that Roman had been obsessing over it. Maybe it was because Virgil was dedicated to trying harder in school, or because Talyn was grilling into him deep about his nightmares about the boy in front of him, or because he didn’t want to think much about it-but he didn’t know where this was coming from. 

“I-ye-yeah…” Roman’s eyebrows raised in surprise. There was a look in his eyes that Virgil could read easily-anxiety. He immediately felt sympathetic. Whatever Roman wanted to talk to him about was obviously a struggle. 

“Sorry, that was harsh-” Virgil put his hand on Roman’s shoulder as the bus hit a bump. He continued in a softer tone of voice, “I’m not trying to avoid you. Am I glad we’ve gone a full week without nearly knocking each other over? Maybe,” he winked at Roman. He loved making the boy blush. It worked to make Roman’s shoulders relax. Virgil smirked, feeling smug at that success. He still didn’t remove his hand. 

“The point is...I got a lot going on right now. My uncle is driving the principal up the wall, Talyn’s constantly texting me to get me to- '' It was Virgil’s turn to blush. His voice came out at a slightly higher pitch. “Well, I’ve got a lot. I’m also trying to care more about getting past high school because I promised my dad that I would try harder. I’m still not sure what I wanna do, but…” 

Roman covered the hand that was still on his shoulder. “I understand.” 

They looked each other in the eyes. Both of their expressions softened. He was glad to not be on Roman’s shit list anymore. If he were being really honest with himself, he was glad the dramatic boy wasn’t on his either. He was going to say more but saw that his stop was coming up. Without thinking he reached over Roman so he could pull the cord to alert the bus driver. 

The bus hit another bump which caused Virgil to accidentally stumble onto Roman’s lap. In a moment of wanting to diffuse the tension, and because Roman’s flustered noises were music to his ears, he spoke the first thing that came to mind. 

“Well, I guess missing a week of falling with you means I had to fall for you.” He smirked at the blush he had been expecting. 

The bus squealed as it stopped. It drew Virgil out of the miniature trance he had created. He hurried off and walked to the doors. He looked behind him and saw that Roman was getting off with him. 

The two stepped off of the bus into the chilly October air. His voice was shaky as he exclaimed, “Shit! It got cold quick.” 

Virgil laughed. He set his bag down on the sidewalk, shaking his head playfully. He tugged off his jacket and handed it to Roman. “You’re so whiny, Princey.” 

“...Princey?” Roman’s voice sounded unsure. He still put the hoodie on. 

Virgil’s eyes went wide. I did not. I did not. No, no no I did not. Horrified, his breathing quickened. He felt dizzy. It slipped out. It was like the nightmare’s effects found him in his waking hours. The name he had been only speaking in his dreams had been spoken aloud in the real world.

Suddenly the grey clouds above them started to rain on the pair. 

He wrapped his arms around himself. His stomach was twisting with nerves. It was worse now that he was awake. He just exposed himself. His thoughts started to have the familiar tone they had when he spiraled. 

Roman reached his hand out to Virgil. His hazel eyes reflected deep concern as he watched Virgil start to panic. “Hey, it’s okay, I don’t mind the nickname. I mean, I call myself a prince all the time in the mirror. Look at me,” he threw his arms open dramatically and winked, “I’m as handsome as a Disney prince.” 

Virgil swallowed his nerves. The rain grew heavier, which didn’t help with the nightmare comparison. His stomach twisted harder. His fingers were starting to feel numb. From the cold or his nerves, he wasn’t sure. 

Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand gently. Virgil squeezed hard out of instinct. “Hey, why don’t I walk you home so we don’t get wet? Don’t want to look like stars in an emo music video,” he joked. Roman cringed when he noticed the joke fell flat.

Virgil nodded. He agreed he needed to get to the safety of his home. He held onto Roman’s hand the entire way to his house. He figured having company until his dad got home wouldn’t be an issue. He was all caught up on his homework except for the technical theater vocabulary sheet.

 He felt calmer as they walked home, though. Roman’s hand anchored him to reality. It was strange how the physical connection spread warmth through his veins despite the cold air.

Maybe this gentle side of the dramatic one was why Virgil’s subconscious built him to be a prince. He did look like a Disney prince. He had hazel eyes that were both intense and soft. His grin was dazzling, and nearly infectious. He was obviously a talented actor to have gained so much attention at his young age. He looked more vulnerable in the black hoodie he was wearing. Virgil’s stomach contracted as he felt butterflies build up inside of him. 

They made it to his home and left their bags by the door. He ignored that the unfamiliar ache from disconnecting their hands was right underneath his Marking.

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Notes: I will no longer tag for sympathetic dark sides. All sides are sympathetic here unless I state otherwise.

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TAGLIST: @k1ngtok1,  @queenoftragedyandrejection

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