#With zero capability for a civil conversation

[set-wingedwarrior]

.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [34] - Cage

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Lack of honesty can cause resentment.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, your day started out pretty calm.

You were petting Alpine with one hand while scribbling on the paper with the other, and you stole a look at Bucky when he entered the kitchen. He ran a hand through his damp hair and you inhaled the scent of his aftershave as subtly as you could, pretending to be busy with the file in front of you while he made his way to the coffee machine to fill himself a cup of coffee.

You could feel his glances on you as he leaned back on the counter, sipping his coffee but you ignored him until he cleared his throat.

“So when is that asshole leaving?”

You stopped petting Alpine and lifted your head to look at him better.

“Who, Rhett?” you asked. “He just got here.”

“Doesn’t he have a city to rule?”

“He left his right hand in his place, apparently,” you told him. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

You hummed, spinning your pen between your fingers.

“You should be nicer to him, you know.”

He scoffed into his coffee mug. “Yeah sorry, I’m not capable of being nice to dickheads who gaze at my wife longingly.”

“What?”

“I’m already being civil by not shooting him, and that’s only because you told me not to.”

“You’re not going to shoot—he doesn’t gaze at me longingly, Bucky.”

“Oh he does,” he shot back. “In fact, I bet he has a plan.”

Your frown deepened. “What plan?”

“He wants to—he wants to take you to Chicago,” he said, motioning vaguely and you tilted your head, your mouth slightly open. “Yeah, he’ll feed you some bullshit about never being over you—”

“He is very much over me.”

“And he will ask you to go rule Chicago with him, and then I’ll shoot him and feed his fucking body to the dogs—”

“Can I just interrupt that very creative theory with some truth?” you asked him as Alpine jumped from the counter to the floor. “Number one, even if he weren’t over me, it wouldn’t fucking matter because I am over him.”

His eyes searched yours as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. “…Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Number two, whoever he is with -which is not going to be me, by the way- will not be ruling Chicago with him. Chicago’s rules are different, the crown moves through blood there. Spouses are irrelevant, they’re treated worse than heirs, or right arms. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the bitch who he’s going to marry because she’s a terrible person, but I kind of feel bad for her too because no one will ever take her seriously. King consort or queen consort, doesn’t matter because they have zero power, except for providing heirs and strengthening the loyalty of families.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times. “Jesus, and we say we have medieval rules.”   

“Exactly,” you said. “And number three, I know we both keep forgetting it but we are in fact married. Even if I weren’t over him, me going to Chicago would be grounds for war and only an idiot—”

“Trojan War started the same way, didn’t stop anyone.”

“I appreciate the compliment but I’m not the underworld edition of Helen of Troy,” you pointed out. “That’s not what’s going to happen here. Unless Eric Bana shows up, that is.”

“Which one was he in that movie, Paris?”

“Hector,” you said with a sigh. “The things I’d do to him…”

“I’m glad we had this conversation because now I will have to add him to my hitlist as well.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“The point is,” you said. “I’m not starting a war between Chicago and New York for an ex. Because that’s what Rhett is. An ex.”

“He doesn’t see you as just an ex,” Bucky told you. “You said it yourself. He trusts you.”

The sight of Rhett’s car by the campus outside your building made you stop dead in your tracks only for a moment. You could feel the smile pulling your lips as you approached him, and he took off his sunglasses to grin at you.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” you said. “Look at that, you survived.”

“Mm hm.”

“I take it the same can’t be said for Lucas?”

“For him or any of his men,” he stated, leaning back to his car. “He was waiting exactly where you said he was.”

You nodded your head. “How pissed off was your father?”

“Very pissed off,” he said. “But I think it worked out pretty well, you know? Now we have sent a message.”

“The ultimate golden heir is not to be crossed or challenged,” you teased him with a small smirk. “That’s a good message.”

He heaved a sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you warn me?” he asked. “I mean, aside from the orgasms I gave you—”

“That was a mutual transaction,” you pointed out, making him let out a chuckle and hold up his hands.

“It really was,” he said. “But seriously, we were broken up. And I know what promise he dangled in front of you. What, you didn’t even consider it?”

You made a face, shaking your head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“New York values loyalty over power,” you said. “That’s what I grew up with. I don’t do business with greedy backstabbers, neither would my father or anyone else in New York. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

Rhett’s gaze was fixed on you, a light crossing his eyes as he let out a breath.

“Jesus…” he muttered. “One last transaction, cupcake?”

“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Then we will get attached and we can’t have that. You have a city to take over, and I’m too smart to be put in the background in someone else’s empire.”

Rhett smiled softly.

“My father won’t do business with anyone in New York,” he said, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I know. Everyone knows.”

“Neither will I,” Rhett said. “Until you need my help.”

Your eyes shot up to his, your stomach doing a happy flip.

“You’d do that for me?” you asked and he nodded.

“You saved my life, and proved that I can in fact trust you,” he said. “Chicago values loyalty above everything else. The least I can do is pay back the favor.”

A smile warmed your face. “I’ll come to collect, Rhett.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said and extended his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, cupcake.”

You let out a giggle, and shook his hand.

“Yeah,” you said. “Likewise.”  

“Because I earned his trust,” you told him as his phone vibrated and he checked the screen, then typed something. Even if you wanted to ask who it was, you managed to control yourself, biting inside your cheek.

“Dr. Raynor rescheduled the therapy session for the evening,” you told him. “Your assistant told you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I have a meeting with Anna before that so I might be a bit late but I’ll be there.”

Your brows shot up, that familiar bitterness burning your mouth. “With Anna?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “Gotta go, I’ll see you there,”

With that, he walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him, and Alpine jumped back on the counter, meowing at you in a very demanding manner. You heaved a sigh, stroking over her soft fur.

“We’re not going to threaten Anna,” you told her, “Because that’s a fucking insane thing to do, and we’re very logical, rational individuals, right Alpine?”

Alpine meowed again and you nodded your head.

“Mm hm,” you muttered. “Exactly.”

                                               *

“I mean it’s not that I’m jealous,” you assured Becca who only watched you with her brows raised. “Obviously that’s not what’s happening here.”

She hummed, sipping her coffee.

“It’s just that she’s a bit too friendly with him I feel like.”

“Like Rhett is a bit too friendly with you?”

“That’s very different!” you protested. “Rhett and I are going to make a deal!”

“Anna already has a deal with Bucky.”

“Whose side are you on?” you asked, sulking and she let out a laugh.

“Yours, obviously,” she said. “But I’m just saying, maybe before pointing fingers, acknowledge the fact that Rhett liked you. A lot.”

“Liked,” you repeated. “Back then. Besides, I have no feelings for him and as I told Bucky, he will get married.”

“And he will have mistresses.”

“Probably,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Alice will kill them I’m guessing. She was quite obsessed with him even while we were dating and now that Rhett says he will marry her, I do not want to think about the lengths she’d go to.”

 Your phone buzzed on the table and you checked the screen, then tilted your head. “Huh.”

“Who is it?”

“Ethan,” you said. “We haven’t talked in forever, apparently he was too busy and so was I. He wants to grab coffee sometime.”

“What is it with all your exes wanting to fuck you?” Becca asked, making your jaw drop.

“That’s not true!”

“No seriously, what are you doing to those guys?”

“I don’t do anything to them—you know what, we’re changing the subject,” you said as you put your phone back on the table. “Do you think I’ll be able to pull it off?”

“The deal?” Becca asked, “I’d say you already have.”

“Nothing is on paper yet.”

“It doesn’t matter, he flew here for that deal. He will make it.”

You drummed your fingernails on the table. “My father will have so many things to say about it I’m sure.”

“He can say whatever he wants—oh!” she sat up straighter. “Guess what I heard.”

“What?”

“Apparently, Ian is learning how to fight.”

You pulled your brows together. “I’m sorry?”

“Mm hm. His right hand is teaching him, the hot Hercules guy—”

“Ryan.”

“Yeah, him.”

You scoffed a laugh. “How did you hear about that?”

“Your father told my father and my father told my mom at breakfast,” she said. “Never too late to start I guess?”

“I mean he’s the heir,” you said with a sigh. “If the cage fight is happening…”

“You know how I feel about the cage fight tradition but for Ian’s case only, I will enjoy it,” she said. “I hate the son of a bitch.”

You squeezed her hand. “How Leila?”

“That’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you,” she said, huffing out a breath. “My mom kind of forced my hand.”

“How?”

“She and me and Leila are having brunch tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“So I need you to tell me Leila won’t decide to dump me tomorrow.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you shook your head.

“She won’t,” you assured her. “Do you want me to be there? I will invite myself to that brunch, I don’t care what Winnifred thinks.”

 She looked like she was genuinely considering the idea before she made a face, then shook her head.

“Nah, I need to deal with this myself,” she muttered and you pressed a hand over your chest.

“Aw,” you said with a grin. “They grow up so fast.”

“Shut it,” she said, kicking at your shoe with hers, making you gasp. “But I’m going to need all the moral support I can get, so you will be by the phone the whole time, alright?”

You let out a laugh. “Deal.”

                                                    *

Bucky was late to the therapy session as he said he would be by fifteen minutes, and when he got there, he was rather tense. Even if you wanted to ask what had happened, you knew you couldn’t in front of the therapist so you raised your brows at him but he shook his head.

“So,” Dr. Raynor said, “Let’s pick up from where we left off the last time. How have things progressed in terms of your communication with your ex-boyfriend in the picture?”

“Him being my ex-boyfriend doesn’t play a part in our communication or lack thereof,” you said quickly and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“It definitely does.”

“I think what plays an important part in our communication is the fact that Bucky doesn’t exactly trust me.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and turned to look at you better.

“I don’t think you should be pointing fingers here, Charm.”

“I do trust you!” you protested, making him scoff.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what, if you’re being like this because I didn’t give you one tiny little detail about my plan—”

“One tiny little detail?” Bucky repeated with a laugh. “Try the whole plan.”

“You wouldn’t even spare me a glance if I pulled the shit you did back in that back alley,” you finished your sentence as if he didn’t cut you off and that seemed to take him by surprise. He gawked at you, then licked his lips, shaking his head.

“Are you serious right now?”

“What happened in the back alley?” Dr. Raynor asked, her voice almost too calm and Bucky gritted his teeth, leaning back in the couch as if he was uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“It was ages ago,” he said curtly and you hummed.

“And you never apologized.”

“I did apologize—”

“Asking me if I’m still mad via text does not count as an apology, Bucky.”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you took a deep breath, then crossed your arms.

“I had a silly little crush on Bucky years and years ago,” you said. “Before I left for college, I made the mistake of telling him about it.”

“Charm.”

“And it’d be fine if he only turned me down but nope,” you spat, that bitter taste burning your throat again. “He had to humiliate me.”

“I didn’t humiliate—”

“Yes you did,” you cut him off and he ran a hand over his face, then motioned at Dr. Raynor.

“Are we seriously going to do this in front of her?”

“Why not?” you said. “That’s what the therapy is for.”

“And you resent him for it, Y/N?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky scoffed a laugh.

“Oh she hates me for it,” he corrected her and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m just saying that if I didn’t trust you, it would be with a reason.”

“Right.”

“Was there a reason behind it, Bucky?”

“No there wasn’t, other than the fact that he wanted to humiliate me.”

“Charm.”

“Y/N, open communication is very important and a huge part of it is listening,” Dr. Raynor said, making you shake your head.

“No, he really didn’t have a reason other than the fact that he was the city’s golden prince who thought—”

“My father wanted us to end up together,” Bucky cut you off, making you pull your brows together in confusion and you turned your head to gawk at him.

“What?” you asked after a beat and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“Yeah,” he said. “He kept talking about how it would be good for the business, how I should visit you in Chicago when you’d leave for college and…all that bullshit.”

You blinked a couple of times in complete silence and Bucky bit inside his cheek.

“I mean obviously I didn’t see you that way back then, but I wouldn’t have been that much of an asshole to you if that was the only reason,” he told you, his voice almost inaudible. “I thought…I thought you were yet another cage he would drag me into, that’s it.”

You could barely hear anything from the way your heart was pounding in your ears and Bucky swallowed thickly, then stole a look at Dr. Raynor and took a deep breath.

“Yeah no, I’m not doing this shit in front of a stranger,” he muttered and got up from the couch as if he was too restless, then walked out of the office and slammed the door behind him. The sound snapped you out of your haze and you jumped on your feet, grabbing your purse.

“Thanks Dr. Raynor,” you said in a haste and walked out of the office as well but by the time you stepped outside, Bucky’s car had already driven off. You let out a breath, then leaned back to the wall on the building and rubbed at your eyes.

“Oh…” you murmured more to yourself. “Fuck.”

Chapter 35

[erwinsvow]

you have this awful way of teasing him. logan doesn't like to be teased—at least not the way you do it.

all polite, sweet smiles when the room is filled with your peers and his students. they're not really his, but the feeling has stuck as of late.

logan shouldn't let you keep going. you're getting the wrong idea—thinking that this, whatever this is, can be something. something more than heated stares and heavy breaths. he's no saint—the thought has run through his head at least a hundred times a day.

how easy it would be to get you alone. to find an empty hallway and push you against the wall, keep one ear listening for footsteps and the other focused on how fast your heart is beating. it picks up everytime he's in the vicinity.

shit. when had he started zeroing in on you like this? it's not just your heart, it's your breathing too. hitched. if your breath is like that and your heart is racing, then what could be going on between your legs? he doesn't have to be a mind-reader to figure it out, but you're lucky anyways, that he's not. he might not be able to hold himself back.

not like you want him to. it's too obvious—if others haven't picked up on it yet, they're going to soon. your friends probably giggle with you late at night, help you perfect your plan to get the big, bad wolverine into the palm of your hand.

or maybe not—maybe you're quiet about it. maybe it's a running joke but nothing more, nothing shared with anyone except you and him. private, just between the two of you. looks that no one else understands, an ache that no one else feels. it doesn't make it less wrong, but it almost feels that way. like pining is supposed to help.

teasing certainly isn't the answer, not that you care. you're all pretty smiles, cocking your head and laughing sweetly, replying to something he said without caring about what he said. you ignore that part, electing to keep the conversation going even though he can't make it more obvious that what he really needs is for you to go.

you get closer, even when others prying eyes are still present. a hand on his arm, brushing up against him and then apologizing without any real sincerity behind it, even the way you rest your body against his doorframe, staring at him with teasing eyes. it's all you fucking do—tease, tease, tease.

logan would like to think some things about you haven't changed on his behalf. he pretends that maybe you always wore short skirts and tight tops, or that maybe you'd put them away for the winter and that's why they keep making appearances. but it's still cold out and somehow, the shortest and the tightest things are decked out just when he's around.

it's menacing. a girl as sweet as you shouldn't be capable of such devious things. the sliver of exposed skin between your white tank-top and your denim skirt, a place where his hand would fit perfectly. one touch and your entire body would get warm, he knows it—you wouldn't feel cold no matter what you're wearing or what month it is.

the way the hem of your sundress rides up when you take a seat next to him, legs crossing over and an endless expanse of smooth skin visible. all the way up to your upper thigh, any higher and he'd get a glimpse of panties—and what color would those be? matching? he can only think about it for a second until he snaps out of it. and when his gaze moves from your legs to your face, there's that smile again. devious. devilish.

you've been put on earth to torment him. he keeps trying to do the right thing—avoid you at every turn, lock doors if it means keeping you out. conversations are short and civil, no matter how much you both would prefer to keep them going.

it's just wrong. you're so young—you don't know any better. or maybe you do, and you choose to ignore it, but he can't do this too, on top of everything else. he has to get something right, and it's just your misfortune that this is the thing he's chosen to stay steadfast about.

because otherwise he wouldn't stand a chance. with every passing stare at your glossy lips and soft, pretty skin—skin that just so happens to be waiting for him to mark up—and clothes that are waiting to be torn off, bits and pieces of his resolve start withering.

you know what you're doing to him, and you don't stop. you don't plan on stopping until you've gotten what you want. yes, it's wrong, but there's not much in the world that's right anymore. you think you at least deserve this. and logan's a good sport—behind every closed door and curt word, his eyes reveal what his mouth won't. a simple truth known to both of you—that he wants you as badly as you want him.

it's a long game, one you're willing to play. you move the pieces same as usual��a shorter, tighter skirt here, a too-big tank top that leaves your straps somewhere on your arm there. conversations get a little longer, his stares get a little more heated, a little more aggressive. you can even hear him taking out his frustration on the punching bags instead of just giving in and taking them out on the object of his frustration.

but you're close—and if there's one thing that you are, besides a tease, is patient.

at half-past ten, all the kids are asleep. there's some older students scattered around the house, some upstairs and others watching tv, but you know your destination tonight, and where the occupant of a particular room is. the baggy button-up you'd put on over your dress, just to make it a little more appropriate for the day, was abandoned on the back of a kitchen chair. you made one stop to the fridge before heading up here—to logan's room.

patient you were, but a saint, you were not. there was only so much a girl could take. you knock twice, and without even realizing it, your heart rate picks up. it always does when logan's nearby, and then you curse under your breath. he might not open the door if he realizes it's you—but then again, who else would come knocking this late?

you hear it—a deep breath, footsteps getting closer. your back straightens automatically, biting your cheek in anticipation. when he opens the door, you beam up at him, knowing exactly what he's about to say.

"kid, you needa go t'bed-"

"i brought you something," you say, with another bright, sweet smile. you offer it to him with outstretched hands—two beers, still cold from the depths of the fridge you had buried them in, lest one of the kids saw them, or one of the jerks drank them.

"how'd ya even get these, huh?"

to anyone else, logan would look the same as he always did—gruff, angry, unforgiving. but you're not just anyone else. you noticed it—picked up on it immediately. the way the tension in his shoulder lessened, just barely. how his grimace softened. how the expression in his eyes betrays him—he sounds upset but he's really not. there's humor in them, sparkling back at you, because he thinks it's funny.

that you show up with beer this late. that you wear a dress you really, really shouldn't wear—the one he thinks of as his favorite, before trying to expel the damn thought entirely.

you roll your pretty eyes, pushing through the man blocking you. of course if he actually wanted to keep you out, he'd barely have to try. one push and you'd be on the other side of the wood, but like always, you know him.

"you do realize i'm not actually a kid, right? i can buy beer," you reply—and even your words, coated in humor and sarcasm, still come out sweet as sugar.

you couldn't be mean if you tried. logan can't be nice if he tried.

"yeah, yeah. c'mon kid, y'can't be in here this late-"

"late?" you repeat back at him, taking a seat on his bed. logan closes the door, wandering back over to where you're perched. you really shouldn't have sat down—not with how much he's pictured you under these very sheets. "don't be such a grandpa, logan. it's not even eleven yet."

"cuttin' a little close to your bedtime, huh?"

"ha-ha," you say dryly, holding one of the bottles towards him. "i didn't bring a bottle opener."

he takes it out of your hand, fingers brushing over each other for a second. it's nothing, twisting the cap off with his hand, tossing it somewhere to the side. you keep staring up, watching through fluttery lashes as he takes a long sip, enjoying the view a little too much. the cherry on top is the exhale logan takes after he finishes, fisting the beer bottle a little too tight.

"do you like it?" you ask quietly, heart thudding fast again. you suddenly hope he can hear it now, even clearer than before.

"yeah, kid." he takes a breath, and your eyes close for a second. "it's wrong." another breath, one from you this time. "shouldn't have beer in the house."

"yeah," you agree, eyes opening and taking him in again. you had planned everything perfectly, picked the best time to come. his flannel was flung on the bed next to you, nothing but the white wife-beater covering his chest. "nothing wrong with just once though, right?"

"kid-"

you stand up, much too close for comfort. your little pink dress looks even prettier like this, so close that he can almost feel the material. one strap has fallen—like they always do—but this time, your wish finally comes true. logan takes the strap between his thick fingers, sliding it up your arm and around to your shoulder, bringing it all the way up. even after it's secured, he doesn't let go.

his touch—barely present as it was, is enough to light your skin on fire. it's just as you thought it would be, and now all you want is more. your eyes shut again.

"i probably shouldn't tell you this," you start, and you hear logan groan—a soft noise, something that has imprinted into your brain forever. "but i really love it when you call me that."

"y'killing me, kid-" he says, all in one breath.

"what's it gonna take, hm? do you want the other beer? i brought both for you, i don't even like the stuff-"

he shuts you up by closing the space in between the two of you. logan's mouth is hot, hot just like the rest of him, blazing to the touch. huge hands wrap around your waist, bringing you in even closer, if it's even possible to be any closer. it's everything you dreamed it could be—the sheer intensity of how he kisses you, the way his tongue feels in your mouth, how hard he grips you. your hands find his shoulders, gripping on as hard as you can, nails digging in while you moan into his mouth. you should be quiet, anyone could hear, and yet, you keep going. and it's all of it at once, the taste of the beer and those cigars he loves so much. if they taste anything like this you might find yourself addicted to those too.

when he finally pulls away—and of course it's him that pulls away, you would stay attached forever if you could, and you plan to make it a reality—there's lines of spit between your mouthes, still connecting you. he wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb, and breathless you stare up at him.

your hand traces down his arm, all the way to his wrist and then his hand, resting just above his knuckles, running your soft fingers over them.

"logan," you breathe out, your heart as fast as he's ever heard it. "can i go lock the door?"

"yeah kid," he says, the gruffness in his voice something entirely new, laced with a desire and wanting you had only hoped to hear tonight. "go lock the door."

[ssruis]

31, 33, 34, 49, and 50 for the pjsk ask game :3

31. Favorite event?

Oh man this changes All The Time… for non mixed events it’s probably a tie btwn it’s on wonder halloween/smile of a dreamer/OHE but I feel like once I get more caught up or have to reread an event for analysis my mind will change again

33. Favorite mixed unit event?

Let’s Study Hard is so peak... Incredible mizuki and an moments. Mizuki/Rui enjoying themselves at school. Akito is in hell (always funny). Toya consistently being hysterical. All the card stories are fantastic. Tsukasa fail moment. Nene is even there for a little bit. Kamiyama crew my beloveds.

Special shout-out to doll festival (tenmas my beloveds) & pandemonium (self explanatory) which are also favorites

34.Mixed event lineup you want?

+ I want an emu/tsukasa/minori/saki/kanade event so badly… I think putting kanade in an event with 4 people who genuinely do not have an off switch is the funniest idea ever.

+ I also really want an event with the leaders.

+ an emu/airi/mizuki/Luka/saki event (pink gang)

+ or a toya/shiho/nene/kanade/niigo kaito event where there’s like. 3 words said. They all just Vibe.

+ an event with tsukasa/shizuku/an/akito (+ any other character who is competent just not like. Academically.) where they have to do a trivia competition or some other intellectual event & it’s shaking up to be a huge flop but they all pull through with their different areas of knowledge

+ event with a bunch of random characters but NOT tsukasa. and they all meet amami seiichi but have zero idea who he is. Tsukasa hears about this and dies inside.

+ siblings event…

49. a hc that came out of nowhere and has no basis in canon but it's ingrained into your understanding/portrayal of the character?

Mostly inconsequential hcs here & if any of them are contradicted in canon uhh no they aren’t </3

+ Rui on ssris is both incredibly inconsequential and also canon. To me.

+ Emu and Tsukasa both have adhd but Emu is unmedicated (& doesn’t really need to be she has systems that work)

+ rui sleeps curled up like a cat, Tsukasa sleeps sprawled out like a star fish, emu clings onto whatever’s closest when she sleeps, and nene sleeps on her back with her arms folded over her chest like a corpse.

+ I saw someone say they had the hc that tsukasa chose his room because he likes to see/hear that other people are home and that stuck with me

+ emu is scary capable of starting a long conversation with anyone like she’s incredibly good at figuring out what you’re interested in/can ramble about and asking you questions about it. This actually has basis in canon but I like to remind people.

+ I think I’ve talked abt it on here before but I think tsukasa having a fictional character crush on the normal virtual singer kaito when he was younger & not realizing it is an incredibly funny idea. He’s like “yeah idk why I just used to really like the character. Whatever (doesn’t analyze this further even when the wxs sekai manifests).” Wxs Kaito knows this but he’s not saying shit because it’s not relevant anymore but it DOES make him side eye tsukasa incredibly hard whenever tsukasa is like “these must be normal best friend feelings I’m feeling towards rui.”

+ technically rin and len being twins is a head canon but I’m sorry that’s so stupid they’re twins to me

+ nene experiences gamer rage. Wxs operate under the assumption that she doesn’t really get Super Angry until they’re at her house and see her die to a boss in a fromsoft game/fail a platforming section for the 30th time and she’s Seething.

+ mmj could survive if they got stranded in the wilderness. Would they make it back to civilization though? Only if they don’t trust shizuku with directions.

+ emu & mizuki fashion buddies… gestures at area convo where mizuki is like she seems like she has good taste. I also just want them to be closer friends.

+ rui listens to video essays/informational podcasts/documentaries while he works and this is (partially) how he’s gained so much knowledge about random topics

+ saki is capable of making the most intricate woven string bracelets of all time & will make them for her loved ones based on their interests.

+ shizuku can play “old people” games (mahjong, mancala, etc) scarily well… don’t play against her or you’ll lose…

50. A hot take?

I think I say my hot takes often & without any restraint so it’s hard to throw one out that I haven’t mentioned before uhh

+ fanbase has a misogyny problem. Who’s shocked (no one). Not even a hot take but I see a lot of people get mad when this is said like. please look up what an implicit bias is.

+ I don’t trust people who only talk about tsukasa with any character takes (including ones about tsukasa they straight up Do Not Get Him) because they’re incapable of viewing other characters outside of their relationship to him. I also don’t trust them in general & find them irritating. & this is coming from someone who talks abt him a lot.

+ you Need To Interact With The Canon Text because if you rely solely on how the fanbase portrays characters you’re going to walk away with the completely wrong characterization. Also the stories are good so you should really be doing that anyways.

+ actually very unhelpful and irritating to reduce female characters down to like one trait and then pretend you’re a fan of them bc 90% of the time the trait is wrong. Nene for example I see so many bad takes on because people think she’s a girl boss (???) 24/7 hater (??????) who never says anything nice about her friends (??????????)

[zivliveblogsop]

One Piece Reread Chapter 4: The Great Captain Morgan

(prev | index | next)

No cover page this chapter, we get right into it - the fact that Luffy loathes people hiding behind another's reputation, especially a parent's, comes as no surprise. What does strike a positive chord with me here is how Luffy, in real time, seems to remember Shanks' way after his temper has died down. "He's not worth hitting," he says, though it's after he takes a breath and lets go of his initial anger. He still has a ways to go before he becomes the captain who lets Bellamy get his licks in without lifting a finger in Jaya. True to form, though, if it's for the sake of his friend, he'd hit him a few more times just for good measure.

Koby is still petrified of the consequences, but Luffy, uncaring, heads off to find Zoro.

A brief interlude for Morgan - one wonders if tax collection falls under Marine purview. Is it simply because Shells Town appears to be a very small settlement, without even a mayor or other civil authority? Could it be that all of Shells is on World Government property, rendering the entire thing a military installation under the 153rd's jurisdiction? It's clear that the Marines seem to act as the police for the town. Among the injustices named by the citizens, they zero in on executions and other harsh punishments, but never object to the levies, which makes me think that the Marines functioning as the tax man may not be entirely unusual.

Back in the yard, we come to the more famous second recruitment conversation between Luffy and Zoro - Zoro is notably opposed to pirates, as this is the second time he's not only rejected, but denigrated the prospect. Luffy questions if it's a matter of reputation, but Zoro shoots this down. He doesn't give a damn what everyone else thinks of him, but he (1) lives by his own code, which involves (a) never doing anything he's regretted. Once again, this raises the contemplative silence from Luffy. Oda goes as far as to give him a "..." to really show us that this is resonating with him, somehow, making him think. You might recall that I put a pin in Chapter 2, on the notion that Luffy lives his life on the guiding principle of "no regrets" - I believe that, here, he's realizing that he and Zoro have even more in common than he already thought, and it only strengthens his resolve to recruit him. He refuses to take no for an answer, because it's not only himself, now, who will feel regret for not getting Zoro to come with him - it's Zoro who will end up regretting this end. (As for "Why doesn't he just tell Zoro about their plan to execute him?" Simple - I believe Luffy sees it as an honourable act, and doesn't want Zoro to regret it. He likes the man that Zoro is, and he doesn't want to give him cause to hesitate to act this way again in the future.)

To put it lightly, Morgan is an incredibly ham-fisted (or, axe-fisted) character - a very overblown amalgamation of just about every dishonourable trope in the book. I believe it's intentional, though - being introduced to the Marines in this way swiftly informs us of the present state of the organisation. It's corrupt, rife with abuse of power, and rife with individuals that are more concerned with their own status than the wellbeing of the citizens they are charged with protecting.

The reality of the situation hasn't been lost on Koby, who's been galvanised to the point where he has a clear path forward. He hasn't yet seen himself as someone who's capable of cleaning house, but he does, at least, know he wants to be the "right kind" of Marine. He and Zoro have a moment of understanding, over Luffy's seemingly-impossible ways, but Koby has come to see the light. He sympathises with how crazy it seems at first, but he's bought in: "He'll succeed or die trying! That's how he is!" That impossible faith has begun to rub off on him.

We close this chapter with a very sobering panel, and with Luffy on the loose with Helmeppo as hostage, in search of Zoro's swords...

[cyarskj1899]

POLITICS

No Speaker of the House Yet, But Here's Who We'd Nominate to Fill the Void

The Speaker doesn't have to be a member of Congress (like, who knew?) So we decided to nominate a few of our own: Beyoncé, Common, Al Sharpton and more.

By

Jessica Washington

PublishedYesterday 5:40PM

Comments (7)

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Republicans are hard at work doing their favorite activity, making it impossible to do any governing. For the first time in 100 years, a nominee from the party in power failed to win the initial floor vote. (Congrats on the biggest failure of the century, Representative Kevin McCarthy).

Until they can come to an agreement, the House is at a complete standstill. But while the Republicans were spending their time squabbling, over at the Root, we decided to find a solution.

Fun fact, anyone can be elected as Speaker of the House regardless even if they’re not a member of congress.

So in the interest of helping democracy function and having a few laughs, here are The Rootnominees for Speaker of the House.

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Queen Bé for Speaker

Obviously we can’t have a conversation about leadership without talking about the queen herself, Beyoncé. Sure, she has zero political experience, but I’d vote for her over McCarthy in a heartbeat.

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Megan Thee Stallion

She may not have any track record in politics, but this original Hot Girl, is tough enough for any challenge. She’d be dog walking the entire chamber in no time, and we’d love to see a speaker who can lay down the law and the beats.

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Meghan Markle

The princess of our hearts managed to shake one of the oldest monarchies to its core just be existing. We’re pretty sure she could take on the U.S. Congress without breaking a sweat. And if they try to bully her, well, we know this duchess has Netflix on speed dial.

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Common Takes Congress

Not to be crude, but the photo kind of speaks for itself. But seriously, looks aside, Common has been talking about issues in the Black community for decades with eloquence and poise. Congress could certainly use a touch of his soothing wit, even if his nomination would make Fox News explode.

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Serena Williams

If you’ve ever seen Serena Williams body the competition at a tennis match, then you know the members of congress stand no chance against her. She’s fiery, she’s passionate, and honestly that killer serve alone wins her my vote.

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Rev. Al Sharpton

This one is a no-brainer. Reverend Al Sharpton has been a civil rights icon since way before I’ve been alive. He loves to talk (so being speaker should be pretty easy). Get this man a gavel cause he’s certainly got our vote.

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Keke Palmer

Who can forget the time Keke Palmer absolutely destroyed the central Republican villain of the early 2000s. But seriously, if she can unintentionally destroy Dick Cheney’s ego, imagine what she could do to the rest of the party if she was actually trying. All I’m going to say is that Ms. Keke P absolutely has my vote.

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Oprah Winfrey

Has Oprah Winfrey earned some major side-eye from us over the years, sure. (**Cough Cough** Dr. Oz). But no one can deny that Oprah knows how to bring folks together. In a divided Congress, Oprah might be the only person capable of uniting the country.

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Shannon Sharpe

This one is just a pure chaos pick. Do I know anything about how Shannon Sharpe will be as a leader? No, but wouldn’t it be wild watching Republicans try to deal with this man on a daily basis, 100 percent. And for that reason, he’s got my vote.

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Jayson Tatum

Promise we’re not just picking people because they’re handsome. Jayson Tatum happens to be a phenomenal leader of the Boston Celtics, and I think that says something about his ability to lead Congress. And yes, we wouldn’t mind looking at him for the next four years.

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Vice President Kamala Harris

Nominating Vice President Kamala Harris for Speaker of the House wouldn’t really make any sense (she’s got her hands full). But you have to admit, having someone competent in the role would be pretty nice.

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Former-First Lady Michelle Obama

I mean come-on haven’t we earned seeing Michelle Obama in a leadership position? Mostly, it would really piss of conservatives, and I’m honestly here for that too.

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Lou Bega

Mambo No. 5 stole my heart as a child, and now I want to help Lou Bega steal the speaker’s gavel. From what I can tell he hasn’t done a ton since his major hit, so he’s probably free to take over Congress.

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Loni Love

If you’ve ever seen Loni Love talk, you know she can command a room (ask anyone who saw her host the Root 100). All we need is to give this talk show host a gavel, and I’m sure she’d solve Congress in a heartbeat.

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Representative Hakeem Jeffries

Y’all know I had to throw someone serious onto the list. While Republicans floundered, Democrats unanimously voted to elect Rep. Hakeem Jeffries as House Speaker, making him the first Black politician to lead either party. Jeffries was also the first person since 2007 to unanimously win the support of their party for leadership. Democrats don’t hold the majority, so it’s highly unlikely that Jeffries will be Speaker (although not technically against the rules). But there was no way to make this list without at least giving the New York Representative an honorable mention.

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Sent from my iPhone

[braveryhearted]

“sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.” (for oven! )

NOT SURE IF THIS A MEME OR NOT

@bruxsaria said: “Sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.” (for oven! )

Ovan's not too sure if there was an AIDA infection in the entity that he so called befriend while walking in the virtual reality known as THE WORLD. Surely, him being patient zero could spot it a mile away but this wasn't the case as the virus's MO was the complete opposite of saying something civil. So that was out.

"Sorry. I am taken aback by your more common sense of words. I apologize to think that you weren't capable of having a deeper conversation than just calling me 'oven'".

Still, he's cautious. Perhaps the infection had to opposite effect to others that weren't exactly human. Which would make him upset if that was the truth as Ovan was the one most close to the virus. It was complicated indeed.

[sociomi]

Want A Spiritual Awakening?

Detoxing/addressing our roadblocks is positively a test - yet it is essential before we can truly continue on the way. It would be ideal for mending to continuously start things out. Some of the time the longing for idealism, to encounter something "super-normal" can disrupt the general flow. Many conversation about opening their "third-eye" (which is the Chakra related with instinct, clairvoyant powers, reaching different universes and so on) however we ought to recollect that the third eye is only one of the 7 Chakras. To just zero in on the third-eye and disregard the other Chakras could bring about a wide range of irregular characteristics which could appear as wild feelings or, in outrageous cases, the deficiency of contact with the real world! Except if we are hiding away far from civilization, we should be cautious with spiritual practices that can disturb our regular routines. Being excessively connected to day to day existence can forestall a spiritual awakening, however assuming that we overlook the "customary" world out and out our lives can wind up so tumultuous that we will go in reverse.

Actually taking a look at Your Chakras!

At the point when we discuss the energy body, an interconnected web capabilities as a solidarity and can't exactly be isolated. Yet, by regarding the Chakras as discrete substances, we can think of a conventional approach to cleaning our blockages and permitting the Kundalini to rise. When beginning So allowed us to begin at the base and follow the Kundalini up through the Chakras:

This Chakra is arranged in the foundation of the spine, or all the more explicitly at the perineum (between the private parts and butt). It is related with the Earth component, our association with the material world. Cleaning this Chakra is fundamental for gaining spiritual headway since it is just areas of strength for with that we will track down the solidarity to develop. On the mental level, the Root Chakra is related with thoughts we have gotten from our way of life and family as well as our conviction that all is good and feeling grounded. Check out acim authors. 

Many individuals experience awkward nature around here because of family issues and past injuries - and these can appear as strong detox impacts once the Kundalini begins to rise. Pardoning can be the best medication in these circumstances, to comprehend that our folks or some other relatives are simply human and subsequently bound to commit errors the same way we in all actuality do can assist with releasing any outrage we have towards them. To purify the Root Chakra it can likewise be exceptionally useful to relinquish any vices that never again serve us. Yoga represents that are helpful for the Root Chakra incorporate standing and strength postures and well as forward twists.

Otherwise called the Sex Chakra, the Sacral Chakra is found around two crawls underneath the navel. It is related with the water component, with inventiveness and association, the craving for alternate extremes to consolidate bringing the male and female together. The Sacral Chakra houses our inventiveness and our most profound longing. In current culture, we have many hang-ups about sex and self-perception with our swollen self image's frequently changing sexuality into a wellspring of approval as opposed to an imaginative association.

[kellyrick]

AI

The concept of creating artificial life, whether through magic, science, religion, or illusion, has always captivated humans. The interest has manifested itself in a variety of ways across different civilizations. By breathing life into inanimate objects, humans have gained a greater understanding of themselves and their place in the world while also experiencing the extremes of both power and fear. We are where we are today because of the enduring fascination humans have with technology and their age-old desire to advance science, increase intelligence, and increase life expectancy. Humans have always fantasized about creating artificial intelligences capable of mimicking the human mind. The nineteenth century saw the beginning of the translation of mathematical languages into machines that checked the logical soundness of a statement, bringing this long-held fantasy one step closer to reality. A mathematical worldview that sought order in a chaotic universe found expression in the rise of logic machines.

Historically, it was believed that rational thought could be systematized and reduced to formulaic rules. In the 1940s, the desire to not only decode the brain but also imitate its workings transformed this traditional method. Numbers served as a common language for people all over the world, facilitating trade and communication. The introduction of zero allowed humans to move beyond counting on their fingers and into the realm of large numbers necessary for modern living. Alan Turing, later known for cracking codes during WWII, posed the question "Can machines think?" in 1950.

Similarities between humans and technology are becoming more apparent. As our involvement increases, we are faced with the question, "Where do we end, and where does it begin?" As we use AI to investigate our own nature, we blur the lines between human and machine. The Turing test was developed by Alan Turing to determine whether or not a machine can behave intelligently in a manner that is comparable to or indistinguishable from that of a human being. Turing suggested that a human judge watch conversations between a person and a machine that was programmed to talk like a person and give a score. When a human evaluator cannot distinguish between the AI and a human subject, the AI is considered to be intelligent. 

The use of artificial intelligence (AI) is widespread and can be found in many different applications. AI may eventually be integrated into every aspect of our daily lives. AI can  be defined in a variety of ways, but fundamentally, artificial intelligence is the effort to understand and recreate human intelligence using machines. The human brain is a complex network of neural connections that are interconnected in a maze-like fashion. So, if you were tasked with creating an artificial brain, what steps would you take? You could create a machine that mimics how the human brain functions. A neural network that actively searches for patterns in data is one such outcome. One of the most striking aspects of AI is how many different fields of study contribute to its growth and development—mathematics, biology, computer science, economics, physics, literature, philosophy, sociology, and law, to name a few. The field of study involves experts from many different fields. To study cybernetics is to see the connections between disciplines that at first glance seem unrelated. Cybernetics is the study of social, technological, and cultural systems. It explores the interconnections of different forces by employing concepts like feedback and self-organization. A world without computers is difficult to imagine. Everything that civilization has to offer is the result of human intelligence, so the potential benefits of AI are immense. It's hard to fathom what we might achieve with this intelligence amplified by the tools AI may provide, but it's certainly possible that we could end disease and poverty. Understanding how to take advantage of AI while avoiding its pitfalls is a subject that requires a great deal of attention due to the vast opportunities it offers. The goal of artificial intelligence (AI) is to create computational systems with cognitive abilities analogous to those of the human brain, either for the purpose of simulating the brain's problem-solving strategies or for the purpose of conducting in-depth cognitive research into the brain. It's true that we know a lot more about the brain than we did a century ago, but there's still a lot we don't. 

Culturally, we speak of the "singularity" to describe the point in time when AI is expected to surpass human intelligence. This is related to the concept of an "intelligence explosion," in which super-smart machines upgrade themselves indefinitely as part of a never-ending evolutionary process. It has become widely popular and is frequently linked to gloomy predictions about the future. Many people have different opinions on whether or not the concept of the singularity is even possible, but Kurzweil predicts that it will happen in the next twenty-two years, around the year 2045. In the not-too-distant future, artificial intelligence (AI) is likely to be used in every part of human life.

[nooblord9001]

By all accounts Steven Universe is a Jewish character

all except the actual fucking text of the cartoon lol

I’ll be honest, if I had written that post on Jojo Rabbit today, it would look very different. I still don’t like the movie, but I’m a lot less harsh on it now that Trump isn’t in office— with the very real threat of my own country turning into Nazi Germany that electing Trump threatened to imply.

(For the Record: I am aware that Biden is capable of turning the U.S. into a hellish police state, and that Trump being re-elected/any GOP candidate winning would all but guarantee things getting worse)

There is absolutely a time and place for films about “hey maybe the civilians of a democracy-turned-despotic AREN’T always 100% complicit in their country’s atrocities that can be mowed down without remorse,” especially nowadays… but it wasn’t in the 2016-2022 political landscape where the “Nazis” were fucking Trump Voters (and even if it was, I don’t think Tumblr would’ve been happy that the mind behind “Our Flag Means Discourse” & “Thor: Lore & Frigeration” was the one telling it, but I’ll take your advice and leave that conversation to the communities that would actually be affected by Taika’s controversies).

This is something I’m going to have to internalize going forward with my expectations and analysis of media I consume: Cultural Warfare is simply shifting goalposts Too Fast for big group art projects to adequately resonate in the way I had been hoping and expecting it to. This isn’t a bad thing— dealing with Trump for 8 consecutive years would’ve been the fucking deathknell of human civilization right then and there, and I stand by that —but it does mean that the greasy neckbeards who shriek “POPULAR MEDIA BAAAAAAAD!” toward the MCU unfortunately had a point about it not being as Woke as I was tongue-bathing it to be at the time.

In the GamerGate years, we needed media to reassure that marginalized communities did not resent their imperfect allies the way they do with their oppressors. Instead every pop cultural institution refused to say anything beyond vague “Fuck Privileged People” ragebait, and then cried Tone Police when questioned if we were collectively being too harsh.

In the Trump Administration, we needed media like The Owl House (& possibly Hazbin Hotel if Adam stays dead) to alienate Conservatives and say “You do not belong in society. If you hurt marginalized people, We Can & Will Replace You— Violently, If Necessary.” Instead, media was too busy correcting the mess it was making only a couple years prior, so instead we got shit like TROS & WW1984 coddling the everloving fuck out of Nazis.

Nowadays, I’m not sure what we need right now, but we’re not going to get it until it’s “too late” to enjoy the kind of “Holy shit, this is EXACTLY what we need WHEN we needed it!” that it felt we were getting with stuff like Wonder Woman 1 & Black Panther 1.

As for the accusation of antisemitism… yeah, if an omniscient being pointed a “go directly to superhell; do not pass go, do not collect $200” weapon at me demanding a truthful answer to “Do you have Unchecked Biases & Blindspots that risk harming Jewish Communities?” I’d unfortunately have to say yes.

I’d probably have to say this about every marginalized ethnic/ethno-religious/racial group, but with Jewish people it’s the one that’s the most obvious to me that I’m struggling in being an ally for.

FUN FACT: Me going on one of my “Death is the Only Remedy Conservatives Deserve!!!1!” tirades— like the one you replied to! —in the midst of a topic where it didn’t belong was what got me (rightfully) kicked out of Lily’s now-defunct Sylvanas Loyalist server! 🫠

Although I would like to Be Better about this sort of thing, I unfortunately have zero intention of taking advice from strangers on the internet at this present time.

I must say, despite your frustrated tone with me, I’m sincerely glad your stroll through memory lane gave me an excuse to self-reflect on the unrealistic expectations I’ve put on pop culture media, and the somewhat-related problematic mental-habits I picked up from building my moral compass during the Trump administration; if she weren’t busy being on vacation whilst awaiting for the verdict of the appeal her lawyers sent to Tumblr Court, I think Lily would be appreciative of you for doing her job of keeping me honest like this in her absence.

Madness

[wienerbarnes]

Much Ado About Nothing (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,726

Warnings: enemies to lovers, talk of wedding and marriage stuff

A/N: enjoy the first part and let me know what u think!

MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST

The ride back to New York feels a lot longer than the ride to Croatia, Bucky decides. HYDRA wasn’t kidding around when they said cut one head off and two take its place, whatever. No matter how hard Earth’s Mightiest Heroes try, there’s another facility that pops up at one point or another.

Bucky tries to think positively; they should be off HYDRA duty, if they keep up the consistent schedule of finding a new facility every three or so months, for a bit now.

“What’s the first thing you guys are gonna do when you get back? I’m gonna get some hot chocolate from the little cafeteria in the main building.” Sam hums from the seat directly behind Bucky.

Bucky’s in the passenger while Steve pilots and he gives his own answer at the same time as Steve,

“Shower.”

“Propose to Sharon.”

A small pause for the boys to ensure they heard that correctly.

“Wanna run that by us again, Cap?” Sam pipes up.

“When we land, I’m going to propose to Sharon.” Steve repeats nonchalantly.

“Since when?!” Bucky asks. He knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon adore each other, but Steve has never brought up marriage once in the time he’s dated Sharon, and clearly he hasn’t done so to Sam, either.

“Listen, I know we haven’t been dating long, but I know I love her and I know she loves me, so, what’s the point in waiting?” He explains.

“Is this about what happened earlier, Steve?” Bucky asks, knowing his best friend all too well.

A bomb was in the facility, of course, and Steve and Bucky tried to disarm it while Sam rallied the rest of prisoners out of the building.

Now, while Steve has obtained most of his training through his serum-fueled muscle memory and military experience over the last few decades, he is extremely lucky. Steve has successfully disarmed twenty-nine bombs throughout his Avengers career. Not a single failure. With no bomb training.

So when he cut one of the wires confidently and the timer started ticking faster, it made him nervous. And it made him even more nervous when he clipped a different wire and the time counter automatically set to zero. He froze in shock and was lucky Bucky was able to fling the two of them out a window and away from the direct blast.

“Okay, so, yeah, maybe I got a little scared. But, listen, it’s not a lie that we lead dangerous lives. Why should I hold back on the things I want if I know tomorrow isn’t promised?” Steve defends.

“Steve, you can’t marry a girl because you’re scared of dying!” Bucky exclaims.

“I’m not marrying her for that, Bucky, I love her!”

“I know you love her, but -”

“But?! -”

“Alright, alright, listen,” Sam interrupts their sibling bickering, “If this is what you want, I’m with you 100%, Cap.” Sam reassures.

Steve gives a thankful smile and looks back to Bucky, hoping for the same.

“You know I’m always on board with you, you punk.” Bucky slaps a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Ah, big man’s gonna be engaged!” Sam throws his hands on Steve’s shoulders, jostling his body in the tiny pilot’s seat, and Bucky joins in on the teasing.

“I’m gonna tell everyone to meet in the hangar for when you ask her.” Sam says, pulling out his phone.

“You’re not gonna tell the Geek, are you?” Bucky groans.

“Of course, I’m gonna tell her. I don’t know why you don’t like her, man.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at the thought of the little lab rat. Sharon’s best friend. A young girl, born and raised in New York though thoroughly traveled through your work experience. Been to over fifty countries offering your expertise to combat cyberterrorism and have helped locate some of the hardest-to-find and worst people in the world.

You act like you’re all that just because you’re considered one of the youngest geniuses in the country and one of the greatest hackers in the world as well as the Avengers’ best tech expert of all time.

Whatever, big whoop, Bucky could care less.

As the jet lands, hugs and cheers are exchanged as the group of friends reacquaint themselves once again after a long mission. After greeting everyone, Bucky hangs on the outskirts of the group, waiting to see how Steve is going to pop his big question.

“C’mon, punk, don’t lose your courage.” Bucky talks to himself.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Bucky, but no one’s listening to you. You can stop talking.” Your voice pipes up next to him.

“Oh, hey, Little Miss Geeky, don’t you have some codes to hack, or something?” He bites at you.

“I told you not to call me that!”

“I told you not to call me that,” Bucky mocks you in a higher pitched voice.

“Geez, how does anyone stand you around here? I don’t get how all the female trainees are infatuated with you.”

“They definitely kiss my ass because I train them and I have the final say on whether or not they move on to second-class training, but even if I didn’t,” Bucky turns to face you now, “They’d still love me because every woman here loves me except for you, it seems.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone or anything right now, I don’t even know I’m capable of that, anymore.” Bucky finishes.

“Women everywhere are lucky, then. You’d make a horrible boyfriend. I’m glad I have no need for romance, either.”

“Hopefully you keep it that way, any guy that ends up with your catty ass will end up with his face scratched up.”

“Well, if his face looks anything like yours, a good scratching would only make it look better.”

“Alright, alright, enough, you two. Can’t even be civil around each other for five minutes.” Sam interrupts, slinging each of his arms around both you and Bucky’s shoulders, shoving himself in between the two of you.

“She started it.”

“No, he -”

“Stop! He’s about to do it.” Sam shushes you.

“He’s about to do what -”

“Guys, guys, I want everyone’s attention.” Steve’s voice calls out, and everyone quiets down immediately.

Steve turns to Sharon, “Sharon, you are the most beautiful, the strongest, the kindest, and most amazing woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He begins.

“I’ve known for a while now, and I know you have, too, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You make me a better Captain, and a better man every day I’m with you. I truly and deeply believe that you’re my soulmate and I won’t ever find another girl like you in my life. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. So, I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Steve lowers down onto one knee and a few gasps echo from the group.

Bucky sees you slap a hand over your mouth in shock and Sam sniffles beside him. A small smile appears on Bucky’s face, too.

“Sharon, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Steve, yes I’ll marry you!” Sharon cries out, jumping into Steve’s arms as he stands again, and the group claps and cheers for them.

They share sweet kiss after sweet kiss, relishing in the new step in their relationship.

Sharon’s voice catches everyone in their celebration, though, “Let’s get married now!”

Collective what’s come from the group of friends that surround them, “Like you said, babe, let’s not waste anymore time!”

“Sharon, if you think you’re not getting the most gorgeous and lovely wedding you deserve, you’re mistaken.” You tell her.

“For once, I agree with Techie, Shar. I mean you don’t have a dress, Steve doesn’t have a tux; hell, the two of you don’t even have rings!” Bucky says.

“I can make it happen in a week.” Tony’s voice booms from the group. Everyone looks to him.

“I can get you guys rings, I can get Sharon a dress, and Steve a suit, I can set up the smaller ballroom for a pre-wedding party for everyone tonight and get the bigger ballroom ready for a wedding by next Friday.” Tony offers.

“Consider it a wedding gift.” He smiles.

Sharon and Steve look to each other before looking back at Tony, “Next Friday it is, then.”

The group goes back to congratulating the newly engaged couple as well as conversing about the future wedding.

...

“Hey, did you guys hear about the rumored wedding?”

Bruce Banner pipes up in the empty lab after returning from downstairs. Well, not empty, of course, but empty of you, the intern’s tech leader in their internship.

“What idiot would want to get married, nowadays?” John pipes up.

The only reason he’s here is because his step-brother, Sam “The Falcon” Wilson insisted on getting him this internship gig. Everyone was always saying how he wasn’t going to live up to his big brother’s legacy, and he hated the fact that that was only ingrained into his existence further by the fact that Sam got him this position.

“Your brother’s best buddy.” Clint Barton enters and answers. Always roaming around the building, he is.

“What, that pretty boy, Steve?”

“That’s the one.” The archer confirms and plops himself down in a spinning chair.

“Huh. And I guess he’s marrying that pretty girlfriend of his? When did this happen?”

“That he is. It happened just downstairs now that they’ve returned from that mission. There’s a party tonight to celebrate.” Banner informs him, hoping the sound of a party will liven the kid’s spirits a bit.

Banner can see the kid’s frustration in living in his brother’s shadow - or feeling like so - and hopes that allowing him the opportunity to make some good memories will make his time here feel a little less miserable. Despite the connection to his brother, John’s incredibly smart for a nineteen-year-old, a teenager, and deserves to have a little play among all his work.

“Hmmm. I think I’ll go. Who doesn't love a good party, right?” John says, satisfying both Avengers in the lab with him.

Meanwhile, John’s fantasizing, he’s going to get into trouble around here.

…

Sharon, Tony, and you sit around a small table in the cafeteria while Sam waits for his hot chocolate across the room.

“If only I could find a guy in between Steve and Bucky. Steve’s too vanilla and Bucky’s too… Bucky.” You say.

“Keep thinking like that and you won’t find anyone.” Tony tells you.

“Well, good. I pray everyday that God doesn’t send me a husband. Ugh, and especially not a guy like Steve or Bucky; I can’t stand those beards.”

“Maybe you’ll find a husband that shaves.” Sharon offers.

“I know I’m not hearing my darling Geeky and husband as topics in the same conversation.” Sam finally joins with his cup of hot chocolate.

“You’re right, you’re not. I’ll start looking for a husband when they make men out of something other than trash. Speaking of which, I know Steve is America’s Golden Boy, or whatever, but you make sure he treats you right.” You say.

“I second that.” Sam agrees.

“I third it.” Tony follows.

Sharon laughs, “Guys, guys, I appreciate it, but I don’t need you guys to have that talk with me, Steve is amazing, and you all know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I’m going to go shower for the party tonight, I’ve been holed up in the lab all morning.” You stand and go to exit the cafeteria.

Bucky’s way ahead of you in that aspect, following through with what he said on the jet and retreating up to his room to shower as soon as the congratulations were given to the happy couple.

Showering is a special ritual Bucky follows after a rough mission. Of course, everyone showers after a mission, but Bucky makes his post-mission showers extra special.

He double shampoos both his hair and his beard, lathering them up with a smooth conditioner after, while he washes all the dirt and gunk from his body with a lavender and grapeseed oil body soap.

He applies a face mask while he cleans up any wounds he might’ve sustained on the mission, as well as polishing and scrubbing his metal arm clean. Once he’s finished, he painfully reminds himself that he can’t just sleep for the next sixteen hours. He has to get ready to go to a party.

He sighs to himself, “Let’s get this over with.”

…

Everyone in the ballroom is dressed to the nines for the last-minute engagement party. There’s music, dancing, drinks, and just about everyone that works in the tower is in that room.

The group of friends all find each other eventually, and of course all of the attention is on the future bride and groom. Talk of colors and themes and cakes all overwhelm the couple - the question of whether or not Sharon will wear a garter makes Steve blush.

Quite honestly, they’re on the verge of just eloping downtown and saying to hell with all the parties and festivities.

“Okay, okay, can we talk about something else? I don’t want all this wedding stuff to be the only thing I hear about for the next seven days.” Sharon finally interrupts.

“Okay, what do you want to talk about, Miss Bride-to-be?” You ask.

“Well, how about when you’re going to find yourself a husband?” Sharon teases her friend, knowing how much she despises talking about her own love life, or lack thereof.

“Oh no, absolutely not, not this again. I’m going to get a drink.” You wave her off, stepping away from the group and making your way back towards the open bar.

“I hope I didn’t arrive just as we were talking about relationship stuff.” Bucky says as he arrives and finally finds his friends.

“I’m afraid you did.” Natasha confirms beside Sharon.

“In that case, I’m gonna follow Geeky’s lead and get a drink; I’ll certainly need one for that conversation.” Bucky excuses himself, the shadow of his dark blue suit follows the flow of your navy gown worn tonight; you surely matched by complete accident.

“Imagine if they were married.” Sharon thinks aloud to Natasha.

“Who? Barnes and Geek-a-Chic? Please, they’d kill each other within a week of being married.” Natasha argues.

“I hope y'all aren’t talking about our Barnes and Techie, because there’s no way in hell they’d be caught dead with each other like that.” Sam butts in, Steve by his side.

“C’mon guys, think about it. It’s like opposites attract and all that. Plus, I think they are the only people that are a match for their own wits.” Sharon explains.

“I don’t know, babe. They’re constantly at each other’s necks; I don’t even think they’ve had a normal conversation with each other without insults or bickering.” Steve says.

“I suggest we do the impossible.” Tony interrupts, clearly having had a few too many drinks.

“While we wait for the wedding to come, we are going to set those two up together.” He hiccups.

“Tony, you’re crazy.”

“That’ll never work.”

“I’m with it!” Sam shouts, excited to play along and work with Tony on his shenanigans.

“Atta boy, Sammy! C’mon, Sharon? Nat? Steve? Where’s Clint, I know he’ll be on board with this.” Tony whips his head around in all directions looking for the archer.

“C’mon, guys, it’ll be fun! The worst that can happen is that we fail.” Sam tries to convince.

“I think the worst that can happen is that we succeed! Imagine Barnes and her together!” Natasha exclaims.

“I just want her to be happy. She deserves a good boyfriend and husband.” Sharon says sweetly, Sam words slowly convincing her.

“I agree.” Steve chimes in, wanting the best for his own best friend as well.

The five of them turn towards the bar to see Bucky and their favorite tech nerd pushing and shoving at each other’s shoulders, clearly fighting about something once again.

“Alright, I’m on board. Let’s do it.” Natasha finally agrees.

John watches the happy friend group from a distance. He sees his brother smiling and laughing with his friends; his famous, talented, skilled friends, his friends who are soon going to be married and live happily ever after.

Not if he can help it, anyway.

[damselofblueroses]

The Children of Paradise

Summary: Set three years after the Rumbling, a young captain of Paradise Island, Anna Doukaina suddenly learned that her husband alive during the Paradisian Revolution.

Chapter Summary: After one month that Anna spent in the Doukaina's (Levi's Tea Shop) she was more than ready to explode. One day she decided to visit the Library and she had to face a couple of realities which she had no idea. This chapter contains a temporary health issue, if you can be negatively triggered by fainting, becoming numb or the loss of conscious please do not continue :)

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS AND ESPECIALLY CHAPTER 139, Descriptions of Depression and Grief, Mentions of Death, Emotional Hurt. Progress of the fiction contains nsfw / Smut, minors please do not.

Note: The idea of Paradisian Revolution and the transformation of Historia Reiss are the offspring of my imagination, I would like to think about how would Levi’s aftermath of the Rumbling be in my head after I read chapter 139 :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Two: the Ouroboros

“Mrs. Ackerman?” I heard the voice of little kid, Sofia and turned to the source of voice. She was jumping to me by holding a bunch of daisies and dandelions. “Paul told me to give you these flowers.”

I kneeled down to blond girl who was always so lovely, her brown eyes were shining, and her checks were flushing with pink. I patted her head then gave her a piece of chocolate.

“Thank you very much, Sofia. When you and Paul visit me again?”

“We will come in the afternoon, Mrs. Ackerman.” she danced around me. “Gabi and Falco said that they will take us from school today and we can assist them in order to run the café.”

“You are a good girl, you know that.” I smiled. She could be my child. “But do you remember what I asked? Do not call me Mrs. Ackerman, I prefer to be called as Anna but if you want to call me with a surname, call me as Doukaina.”

“I cannot do that!” her eyes instantly became wider, stopped leaping around me like a cannibal. “We are told that we always have to call you by Mr. Ackerman’s name.”

“Who told you this?” I could feel my hands automatically turned into fists.

“Mr. Ackerman.” she was too naïve. “He is very serious, and also Paul strongly advises me to not cause Mr. Ackerman’s anger.”

“Yeah.” I murmured to little girl. “He is a short-tempered man. Anyway, Sofia, call me Anna whenever you will feel more relaxed, okey?”

Her face was telling me that she never would dare to go against Mr. Ackerman’s orders, but I did not say anything on the issue. Instead, I talked with her nonchalantly, made her more excited for the afternoon we were going to share then accompanied her till her house where was two apartments away from Doukaina’s.

Yes.

That bastard dared to name his fucking café after my name.

After leaving Sofia to her house, I came back to the café and tethering my teeth to the name. I was storming to the upstairs.

In the last one month, which I spent by refusing to talk with that motherfucker instead of expressing my thoughts on divorce and grunting a lot, I had a first-handed report on how much that bastard continued on his life without me.

I was in everywhere and nowhere.

The café had been under the Rules of Doukaina that Onyankopon had a civilized conversation with me after that bastard literally seized me in his home. He explained the rules while he was hoping that it would be a catalyser for me to calm down, nope, but I just listened to him without showing an expression. Basically, the rules included what I would like or not, and Captain Ackerman decided to run his own business by accepting my tastes as the standards.

His strategy works very well, Onyankopon shamelessly says.

What the heck I was, his strategy? His experimental rat?

I was fuming after that conversation, but I could manage to hold my anger and pain inside of me. Instead, I remained silent, ignored him when he came back to home, I refused to have dinner with him, I rejected every kind of proposes from him.

After Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco came to me.

Their visits were always hard because of two reasons.

Falco was a sweetheart; I could not refuse his kindness and Gabi had no idea on giving up even if when the occasion called for it. And trust me, my mental and emotional situations definitely called for silence, but Gabi did not get any signals. She told me a lot of stories on a vast range, starting from how horrible Mr. Ackerman was to how much he had been getting through.

Their visits always rip a brick off my invisible wall against him.

When I stayed by myself, and I generally chose to be alone, I realized the real reason of my presence here. It was the most painful part, I could not leave but it was not because of Levi had captured me against my will, I could not find the power of leaving him even though I have already refused even wishing a good day to him.

I cannot leave him, if I will set my foot on my way back to Paradise, I know that I cannot survive this time.

Everything I said, everything I had been doing did not mean a single thing. I was aware of my love to him, although I was broken into pieces because of him.

In this one month, every day I could see his face. Grumpy, unhappy, full of scars, deeply wounded, not like Captain Levi Ackerman who I knew in the past.

But, to my dismay I always loved Levi Ackerman, not the humanity’s strongest, not that legendary and reluctant hero.

I loved that fucking surly, petulant, grouchy, peeved, easily pissed off, clean freak, bossy, dominant and bad-mouthed Levi Ackerman who was always on my side. I loved that shorty who was reliable, extremely strong, capable of many things, careful, kind when the occasion calls for it and very clever.

He was my partner on the battlefield, my friend in the Headquarters, my lover in our tiny place.

Bearing witness of our separated 3 years did not help me to keep my anger against him, however, I had been trained by someone who was famous to hold grudges and has a small piece of forgiveness in the heart.

I was not only Levi’s but also Levi’s sculpture. He craved me with his heart and mind during the years of my training and beyond. Even our marriage bed was a training field.

Oh Jesus, when I remembered that night, a sudden flush attacked to my face, I could feel the heat on my cheeks.

I vividly remember Levi’s voice when he was praising me for being the best one for him although I was inexperienced till that night.

Can you stop remembering unnecessary memories?!

No.

I grunted to my useless brain and moved out of my tiny room. Levi gave me a room in his place when I refused to be in the same area with him. What a gentleman!

He knows you cannot afford a house, and he would kill someone instead of letting go to a hotel. He wants to keep you in front of his eyes, you were absent for a long time, Onyankopon said to me. He always believes he never see you again but all of a sudden you appeared.

If he wanted to keep me with him, why he did not come to fetch me after war, I asked to Onyankopon. He half smiled to me and told me this is a question to be asked to Levi himself. Only he could give me an answer, Onyankopon did not want to interfere our personal lives at this level.

Well, I guessed he interfered a lot but still I did not force him to tell me.

Levi’s flat was the second floor of his café, so I came down of the stairs in order to get fresh air. Levi was working behind Doukaina’s counter, he was dealing with bunch of customers whose I was getting familiar with some of them. When they saw me, they greeted me with their heads, I reciprocated by denying Levi’s strong presence. His eyes were piercing my back, I could feel it, but I refused to take a look back, I grab my coat and bag, then I stepped out of Doukaina’s.

He named his fucking café after me, how should I feel about this? Proud? No fucking way, every time I looked at this name, I lost my nuts.

He managed to be happy without me but living with my shadow. How could I forgive this?

I took a deep breath and started to walk on the street. My foot knew the way, the direction. I was heading to the library. To be honest, I was really so bored because of sitting on my back, it was not something I was familiar with. I had to keep myself busy, and I had to figure a way out in order to be back to Paradise.

With or without Levi.

After one month, observing him without talking, taught me that I could not be that cold-hearted bitch even if I desperately wanted to be. I could not tear him off his life, there was no possible option to try. He built a life for himself, Gabi and Falco, and Onyankopon.

How could I be so heartless taking them into our hell again?

They sacrificed a lot.

Sometimes I looked at Levi and I saw a middle-aged man who spent his life on battlefields, who lost everyone dear to him. His scars telling me how bad he hurt, sometimes he had been making a low-pitched grunt because of pain caused by his leg. He kept working on, but I could easily tell how much physical pain he was in. Falco secretly told me he was seeing a doctor, however there was no treatment to cure his wounded muscles.

And his eye.

I could not forget about his gleamy, metallic grey eyes and piercing look he could give with them. Now, he lost one of them, all the scars on his face, I bet my life on he felt like he was a beast.

Well, he was always a beast but a handsome beast.

Now, I could bet even my life on he felt like cannot be loved because he was no longer the humanity’s strongest, he was no longer Captain Levi Ackerman.

He was only Levi from Doukaina’s, the owner of a little tea shop, a semi-quasi father for a Marleyan kiddo gang.

How can you explain that to Armin? He believes you are trying to persuade Levi to comeback.

I have zero fucks to give the Revolution.

I was in a really darker mood when I reached to the library. The familiar scent of books got my senses immediately and eased my temper.

“Hello, Ms.” I heard the lady at the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Hello. I want to renew my membership to library.” I took my old card out of my purse. “Actually, I was a member, but it has been too long, so I do not know if I have to get a new card.”

“Let me see.” she reached to my membership card, and she gasped. “Miss Doukaina? Is that you?”

“Um, yeah?” I was confused because of her reaction. “Is that something wrong?”

“No!” she yelled and realized where we were and pressed her hand into her mouth. “I am sorry, but we have heard a lot about you. The headmaster will be extremely happy to see you again!”

“Is Angelo still here?” I proclaimed. “Really?”

“Yes, he did not retire yet.” she beamed. “Let me call him, or do you prefer to visit him by yourself?”

“I can go to his office.” I grinned like a Cheshire cat for this unexpected piece of news. “If you allow me, of course.”

“Be my guest.” she looked like I was a very good present and she definitely looked like she wanted to tell me something. I raised one of my eyebrows to push her, she could not hold it back anymore. “Forgive my boldness but I really admire your works!”

“Thank you.” I was surprised but I had to admit that I liked her boldness. I always liked to hear someone liked the works of my brain, it really meant a lot after killing titans and people like an endless string. I did not wish to be praised because of being a good fighter but hearing a praise because of being a good student or librarian was something else. “I am glad to hear that, I did not know they still have my work.”

“Your books are highly demanded both from colleges and individuals.” she smiled like a freak. I easily recognized the pattern of being a fan of someone, her face reminded me my face when I was trained by Levi. I know these shiny eyes, this excitement, this admiration. “I never think I could see you in person.”

“Maria,” another teenager appeared from the door behind of desk. “Headmaster calls for yo- Oh. I am sorry I did not see you Ms.”

“Fred,” she exhaled. “Do you know who is she? She is Miss Anna Doukaina!”

“What?” the young boy’s face went into blank he was literally frozen. “Who?”

“Anna Doukaina!” Maria repeated. “She came back!”

“A-An-,” Fred shuttered. “You must be kidding me; everyone knows she lives in Paradise!”

“Well, you are right.” I interrupted. “I am currently visiting Marley since there is no restriction on visiting people.”

“Yeah. You. Anna. Wow. Doukaina. You are right.” Fred’s eyes became widest, for a second, I thought he could manage to gauge them out only by looking at me. “Wow. Anna Doukaina is here.”

“What Fred means,” Maria stood up by giving her colleague criticizing look. “We do not expect to see you in Marley again after the speculations.”

“Speculations?” I cocked my eyebrow again. “What kind of speculations if I may ask?”

“Well, your husband lives in Marley without you, right? Both of you are famous names, he was a hero amongst people, you were named as a genius and people talks.” She at least managed to seem as embarrassed, but I could see the curiosity burned in her eyes. “You got your degree from Academia while your husband opened a café in the capital, but no one saw you guys together. Everyone believed that you guys divorced, after you went back to Paradise, most of us thought that you would not be back.”

“Holy shit.” I could not hold it. “I did not know we were a material for gossip.”

“You were topic number 1, actually.” Fred spilled the beans. “Especially when you refused to see Mr. Ackerman, a lot of husbands were condemning you.”

“What?”

“When you refused to see Mr. Ackerman,” Fred repeated himself like he was talking something quite natural. “A lo-

“Could you give me a moment, please?” I raised my hand.

“Are you okey?” Maria reached to me with a genuine worry.

“I am fine, thank you.” I replied but I could feel the panic attacks on the way, my breathing was becoming heavier, and my heart was pounding too fast. Bad combination.

“Fetch me a glass of water.” I heard another voice while the room is really starting to spin around me. “Quickly!”

A voice that was familiar to give orders.

A voice that was extremely grumpy but always managed to give me thrills.

The room was becoming darker, I knew that I was losing my sight and conscious for the first time in the last 5 years. Strong, muscled arms held me between their protection, before I fainted, I knew who was holding me.

Levi.

Levi Ackerman, an hour ago

“Oi, brat!” I looked at Falco, he was breathing too fast, and his face was totally red when he made an entrance to Doukaina’s. And his shoes are dirty, fucking hell. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Ackerman!” he yelled. “She is going to the library!”

“Shit.” I hissed between my teeth. Fucking woman. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Gabi saw her on the road. Does she know these people’s thoughts on her?”

“Of course not.” I untied my apron and throw it to Falco. “You are on charge, handle the rest.”

I did not waste a second, rushed to the road. I was definitely fuming, she did not know a single thing about the gossips on our not-so-well relationship, but for a while we were a quite popular topic for every living creature of Marley.

She does not know the curses of patriarchal system of Marleyan society about her, she does not know they label her as the cold-hearted bitch of Paradise.

She had been acting as a tough nut but there was a very fragile little girl inside of her heart, I knew it very well. If she were going to learn those gossips, she would be broken deeply. Even though, she has been ignoring me, I was aware of her true feelings, she did never want to be apart from me.

That’s why she could not forgive me, but she stayed with me.

I never want her to get caught up my mess, and I knew she would fight for me for her dear life, so I thought the only way was leave her to believe that I was dead. It would be better if she were not around me, but the only way to make it possible was building a barrier between us. There was no need for her to learn how many days I spent just missing her, just longing for her, hating myself so bad for letting her to go.

Yet, even with my rightful excuses and reasons, I deeply acknowledged the dire need of apologizing her over and over, begging for her forgiveness which I barely contained inside of myself.

Not seeing her around me was a hell of journey.

But seeing her around me was the worst scenario one could imagine, and I was being caught in really horrible situations since I was a boy in Underground.

She was my devoted girl, in terms of Hange’s very obvious language. She dedicated all of her to me with an incredible fidelity. When we were tying the bow, before the ceremony, before she vowed as my wedded wife, she was already the bone of my bone, the blood of my blood.

“Fucking hell.” I buzzed at my goddamn leg while I was walking to the library. It was making me slower, I hated being unable to do what I want as physically.

If I could have my body and strength as usual, the only thing I would do was taking her into my arms and having her over and over again like a fucking ouroboros.

I cursed behind my mouth and tried to walk faster. I had to catch that idiot before she was getting in touch with those poisonous vipers. However, I had to admit that what made me obnoxious more than I supposed to be not only those vipers, but also my unconscious contribution to that fucking cauldron of gossip. While I was keeping myself as invisible from her eyes when she was having an education here, I did not think of the things people could figure it out. They learned about Paradise, they learned about us, they talked about us, and everything was combined with each other.

In the end, she was labelled as an ungrateful bitch, and I was upgraded to faithful husband. I could not fix anything since I was bloody busy on hiding but hearing those comments about her fed me with pain.

She can be anything but being an ungrateful one? Do not make me laugh.

When I reached to destination, I quickly prayed for anything which could help me. I dearly hoped for she was not having any undesirable piece of information; I directly went into the entrance.

Godfuckingdamnit, she heard.

That was the first thing came to my mind when I saw her posture. Her shoulders were fallen down, her hands were shaking, and her face was nothing but full of agony. There were a couple around her, a boy and girl, they were trying to ask her if she was okey or not.

Do you think she is okey, you motherfuckers?

“Fetch me a glass of water!” I howled to them and attempted to catch Anna. “Quickly!”

Her body replied to my body immediately, fucking hell, her tensed muscled became a little bit softer when I grasped her between my arms. She was getting numb; her knees were twisting.

We had been here before.

Last time she fainted on me; we were butchering a bunch of titans.

I wonder if she carries the ODM scars still on her waist…

Is there anyone sees those little strings after me?

What the fuck I am thinking?

“Do not fucking dare to faint on me again.” I grunted but I held her as tight as I could dare of. She belongs to me, she is my bloody wife, damnit. “Keep calm and take deep breathes.”

“I am not going to faint.” she whispered, her voice was really weak, but I could hear her in every situation. Holy shit, I heard her voice when she fallen into a shitshow of titans and covered by her own blood during the clash of battlefield sounds!

We shared too many things.

“Yes, last time you said you were not going to faint, I had to carry you back to headquarters.”

“You were happy, weren’t you?” she mumbled. “I gave you the change of touching my body.”

“Hella, if I wanted to touch you, I would do before you found yourself between a titan sandwich.”

“Only in your dreams.” she said but her voice was getting weakest. I knew she was going to faint before the water, she closed her eyes, her hand dropped to the ground then the boy turned from the corner.

“Where did you get the water?” I yelled. “From Paradise?”

“I am sorry, Mr. Ackerman.” he shuttered. “There is a line in front of automatons.”

“Put that glass.” I turned to the girl. “I have only two questions to both of you. What did you say to her, and do you have something like cologne?”

“I have cologne!” the boy rushed to the back of counter desk. He left his colleague to my definitely dreadful gaze, what a companion, the girl started to slightly shake. I just looked at her by cocking my eyebrow.

“What did you say to her?”

“We did not sa-

“She fainted, let’s give up on acting and tell me what she learned from you enough to make her to lose her conscious. Before I am going to get angry.”

“She told her about the gossips.” I heard the boy’s little squeaks. “She left you, didn’t she?”

“As I thought.” I mumbled and stood up by carrying Anna’s body. “How much you told her? Tell me the whole story.”

“I swear I just talked about the speculations!” the girl angrily looked at the boy. “He told about Mrs. Ackerman’s refusal to see and its impacts on communi-

“How much you said?” I walked into the bench. “How much?”

“Just refusal!” he really screamed; his face was completely whitened. “I did not tell anything about her nickname, cold-hearted bitch!”

“If you will use that nickname again, you will not have a tongue to speak again.” I pressed on every letter of the sentence. “Tell this to everyone you know, if I hear a single word against my wife, you can be sure of I am capable of slicing living creatures like you can slice a bread.”

“O-okey!”

“Now, hold the door for us.” I turned to the main doors and walked out of the building by carrying Anna.

Carrying Anna?

What?

Anna Doukaina, after 4 hours

I woke up with a terrible headache.

Let me rephrase. I woke up because of a terrible headache.

“Here.” I heard a grumpy voice and a hand without two fingers came into my sight. “Swallow.”

I tried to move but his hand pressed me on the soft layer, a bed I guess, again.

“Feel free to lie down there. You have to rest according to the orders of doctor, so no sudden movements but you will spend a day here.”

Why a doctor came to see me?

My mind was foggy, slow to recall the last memories I had, however while I was having the pills that Levi gave me, I remembered the very last moments before I lost my conscious.

I was fainted.

Okey.

I was fainted on Levi.

Damnit.

I was fainted on Levi after I asked him if he was happy with me or not.

Godfuckingdamnit.

My mind corporate with me in the worst way I could imagine of. Those words of two receptionist, labelling me as an ungrateful wife, careless woman who did not consider her beloved one reminded me everything.

“I cannot open my eyes.” I lied to him. I know Levi is here and I am sure he did not leave me for a second, he waited me to open my eyes. I do not want to see him. “But I am pretty well, so you can go back to work.”

“I do not want to.” he plainly answered. “I will stay, and I know you can open your eyes if you want. But I respect your decision to keep them closed. I am not someone who is worth to look.”

“What?” I fell on his bloody trap and immediately looked at him.

“Oi.” he smirked. Smirk? “It is good to see you are awake.”

“How many minutes I was unconscious?” I asked but I could feel all the heat of embarrassment as I hopelessly tried to change the subject. This is why I hate being with Levi, I become a stupid, lovesick girl!

“Almost 4 hours passed after you fainted on me.” he seemed nonchalant as he informed me; my chin was dropped. 4 hours?! “I have to say, I am impressed. The last time you were fainted for almost half an hour.”

“It was not the last time.” I could not catch what I said, then I pressed my hand onto my mouth, but it was fucking too late. Levi’s eyebrows furrowed and he gazed at me while he was trying to figure what I meant.

“I will not force you to tell me,” he murmured, and he took my hand off my mouth. You are damn close, Ackerman! “But I really appreciate if you can share when you were fainted after that incident.”

“When I heard about the explosion.” I replied. I was too tired of being hiding from Levi. “I thought you were dead.”

Levi did not answer to me, instead of words, he was using his goddamn eyes. I always believed his eyes could see my heart and soul, even the deeps that I did not know anything about.

“Were you,” he cleared his throat after looking at me for a while. “Upset?”

“Ha?” I inhaled while my mind just left the building. “I thought you were dead; I was not upset. I wanted to die but I had to wait for you to be back to me. What would happen if you appeared in our home and could not find me? That was the only thought kept me alive.”

“How much you heard about explosion?” his voice was cracked. Full of fear. Anxiety.

“I knew that monkey exploded himself. No one told me in detail, no fucking one tell me that you are alive. I guess, they think I am nothing to you even though I carry your name.”

“I wanted them to shut their mouth about me.” Levi was a sweet talker as always. “I did not want my situation keeping you back from living your life as fully.”

“And what does it mean?” I managed to lift my upper body by gaining strength from my elbows. “Do you know how many days I spent mourning for you? Do you know how it was, believing that you were dead because of a monkey, because of Commander Smith, because of our goddamn world’s cruelty? An I had to continue on that way until the end!”

I could not control myself anymore, it was too much, overwhelming and suffocating. I just wanted to scream everything I have been holding inside out off my chest. I was definitely not in my best physical condition, and I really preferred to have this conversation in a situation which I would be at my best self-confidence time, but no. It was too late for that.

“Do you know how much I cried? Have you ever thought about me even for little while you are exactly aware of my devotion to you? How could you decide leaving me behind, in a total darkness by yourself? Not because once I was your wife, I was your comrade and you left me with the feelings like how you felt after Commander Erwin passed out.”

“Look at me!” he literally grunted towards me. “I am not the guy you have been knowing in the past anymore, I cannot give anything to you, unless you are fine with a small tea shop where is full of tea leaves, two Marleyan kids and a retired soldier’s company. And me, as wrecked, wounded to death, like a scumbag. How could I comeback to home like nothing happened to me, and face with you when you just having a change of living a normal life after war?”

This was the longest speech Levi gave to me till now, and we had almost half of our lives together.

“Do you think I could take you out of my mind even for a bloody second after I woke up in a fucking, dirty and cold barn? You were the last thought of me when that motherfucker exploded my cart, you were fucking crying and lamenting for me, you lost your smile, I knew that you could not overcome my death although the promises we gave to each other, I cold-heartly killed my subordinates before the explosion after they became fucking titans, but I cannot deal with the idea of you being dead. You are the only one I cannot sacrifice of. Do not act like you were alone in pain, I carried that burden, you have no idea how much I missed you, you were carved into my eyelids, I did not spend a fucking minute as not dreaming of you.”

“You should have let me know.” I gritted my teeth. To be honest, I was impressed by his honesty. Levi was always honest; however, he had never been vocal about his own feelings, I knew for once he loved me, but I had never ever heard those three words, eight letters. “There is nothing left to be said by you, you cannot find an excuse for your choice.”

“I do not try to find an excuse.” Levi said. “I explained how I felt to you until you appeared in front of my door, for a long time I strongly believed that you were a ghost.”

“What do you expect?” I hissed at him. “Do you think I can easily forget your misbehaviour? I know you like knowing the back of my hand, you always choose the way that makes you less regretful and you chose to leave me behind.”

“I did.” he inhaled. “And that was the best choice to make. I could not drag you into my shit.”

“How could you do that?” I asked but all my anger left me. I suddenly started to feel like I was empty, there was nothing but pain. “How could you, Levi? I was your wife.”

“You are my wife.” he grabbed my hand. Did he really believe that he could change our hiatus? My emotions were remained untouched, maybe he could be right on his mindset, maybe he really thought about me and tried his best in order to keep me out of his personal hell, however it did not help me to overcome all the sleepless nights I had. I pulled my hand back out of his fingers. I was searching for this hand during the long nights he caused, and there was no guarantee he would not leave me again. If he would decide on leaving me behind was the best thing to do, he would do it immediately. He would not ask my opinion, he would leave me alone with only my thoughts, my memories of him and he would let me to eat myself alive. I could almost taste the bitterness on my tongue, I could not let his poor reprimands to break my walls while my wavering feelings of abandonment conquered me.

Rain hitting the windowpane above, not a playful and soft type of rain. That was cruel rain that beating the life out of city. Suitable for us.

“You are my wife, Anna.” he repeated himself. “Should I remind it to you, goddamn, I can happily do it.”

His face transformed into something I have ever seen in his features. His Aegean eyes turned into a stormy sea in a second, burning with unnamed desires which I was also feeling in the deeps of my heart. Determination conquered his fucking handsome face, and there was fear. Self-hatred. Regret. But much to my dismay, there was a dire need of teaching me a lesson that set his soul on fire.

I have been knowing this face of Levi. I have been there before.

I knew when he got me and he knew he did.

In a blink of an eye, before I could take any position to defend myself, he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to his arms. He was fucking strong for a man who lost his strength! I quickly realized the potential danger I was in. If he would touch me, I knew that my heart did not spend even a second to betray my mind. That would be the nail in my coffin.

Even though the haziness of my mind slowed my reactions, I covered my face with my hands.

“Do not fucking dare.” I dropped my voice tone as I was informed on, I looked more intimating when I threat someone with lower tone. I did not tone down my wording, there was no place to be gentler with words, I was going to use my curses and I had quite a vocabulary. “If you lay even a finger on me, that’s going to be only way makes you regretful.”

“Maybe.” he did not try to take my hands off my face, and he literally locked me in his embrace. “I assume so.”

“If you do,” I struggled to get rid of his arms around me. “Why don’t you use your brain and let me go? For a better life?”

“So smart.” he huffed once in laughter. What the fuck? The tension of the room changed into something I really did not want even to think of naming it. “I do not have intention to let you go. Never again, brat.”

“Levi, I swear on everything you can believe, if you do not le-

“What will you do?” he interrupted me. “According to you, I already fucked the things up and you told me you will never give me your forgiveness. What makes a difference between not being forgiven for a sin or for two sins?”

“This is the shittiest logic I have ever heard, and I was in Military Police for a while.” I forgot to press my hands onto my face due to his unexpected, unpleasant, and twisted thought about forgiveness. “I do not know where you learned about sins, asking for forgiveness or literally remission, but I think you lost couple of important points.”

What I missed was while I was lecturing him on forgiveness, I let my hands down and I had been sitting on Levi Ackerman’s thighs.

More importantly, he was definitely not the type of man who miss a chance to perform what he aimed for.

He caught my hands immediately and he pressed his lips into mine.

When I felt his velvety lips on my mouth after fucking years, that sensation made me numb in a nanosecond. My logic just left the room, left me with my dire need for Levi. His hands. His lips. His love. Everything about him, I just need Levi, Godfuckingdamnit he always affected me like anaesthesia.

He kissed me and it made me felt like I was breathing again.

I could feel he loosened his tight grip around my wrists by the fact that I was definitely not fighting with him, on the contrary, I was responding to him in the way he wanted. I knew that I was going to be extremely ashamed of what the heck I was doing right now, but even the sorrowness eating me every day refused taking the control of my body back, I felt like my flesh gained an independent character who was begging to my soul for keeping the things as they were happening right now.

Levi was kissing me. His goddamn lips made me feel like I was alive.

The Ouroboros that living inside of me started to comeback into life. With every move Levi made, I could feel Ouroboros biting itself inside of me by releasing the poison.

“No.” I broke the kiss and pressed my hands to his shoulders in order to keep him away from me. He was heavily breathing, his beautiful face became pinkish while his lips shading with darker red, and his eyes, goddamn, his eyes were burning with passion.

He looked like a god, and I hated him for his level of good-looking to my bits.

I was burning too but my fire was caused by different reasons except one, the reciprocated hunger for each other was remained same between Levi and me, to my dismay I strongly felt it. However, the anger was growing in me was for both of us. To him, for his fucking departure and leaving me by myself and his shitty excuses, building a life without me, living a life in the shadows, and running away from me. The list never ends. To myself, for loving him as much as the first day I realized how much I devoted my heart to him and never manage to overcome my love for him even though I had to.

“I love you.” he said. “You fucking know, I spent my life by loving you, brat.”

Maybe there was an earthquake.

Maybe there were bombs exploding all over Marley or Paradise.

Maybe there was a chain of natural disasters which happening right now.

But I could not understand even if I would be brutally killed in this very moment.

He finally said that he loved me.

“If you say no, I will not do anything.” he murmured. “Just tell me.”

I stared at him, how could he be a total moron and did not see how I was amazed by his long-awaited confession? Inside of me, I was screaming, swearing, crying, laughing, and cursing at full speed but I was frozen in reality.

Let me introduce Levi Ackerman to you.

A blockhead, humanity’s strongest and my Ouroboros literally and figuratively eating me alive.

My Levi.

“May I continue to kiss you?”

[mpanighetti]

Halloween Zero-to-Thirty Challenge Rating Challenge

October 28th prompt: End of the World

Gray Goo (Challenge 27)

Lore

Simply put, gray goo should never be allowed to exist.

Conceived of as a thought experiment outlining the potential pitfalls of self-replicating technology, gray goo has the simple ability to create copies of itself by converting other material into more gray goo. Each new goo, in turn, possesses this ability and a drive to procreate.

Given enough time and access to resources, this deviously simple design has catastrophic results. A world with gray goo quickly becomes overrun as all the trees, roads, cities, mountains, and oceans become a teeming mass of organic material. Even living creatures are not able to keep this destructive force at bay for long.

Simply killing a gray goo is insufficient to stop its spread, as the self-replication is an automatic compulsion at a cellular level. Fire or other methods of destruction are effective, and separating it from the threatened world through a planar shift will prevent its spread, but if the same is not done to every object, surface, and creature it infected, then the problem will begin anew within hours.

Ideally, a civilization learns of the folly of this thought experiment before it has the capability to put it into practice. As for those societies whose ambitions outrun their foresight, well... their worlds don't get visited often.

Ooze Nature. Gray goo doesn't require sleep.

Attributes

Tiny ooze, chaotic neutral

Armor Class: 19 (natural armor)

Hit Points: 250 (20d4 + 200)

Speed: 20 ft., climb 20 ft.

STR: 2 (-4)

DEX: 10 (+0)

CON: 30 (+10)

INT: 2 (-4)

WIS: 3 (-4)

CHA: 2 (-4)

Saving Throws: CON +18

Skills: Perception +4

Damage Vulnerabilities: fire

Damage Immunities: necrotic, poison; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks

Condition Immunities: blinded, charmed, deafened, frightened, grappled, paralyzed, petrified, poisoned, prone, restrained, stunned, unconscious

Senses: blindsight 60 ft. (blind beyond this distance), passive Perception 14

Languages: none

Challenge: 27 (105,000 XP)

Proficiency Bonus: +8

Special Traits

Convert. Any time a creature or object makes physical contact with gray goo, the goo attaches itself and attempts to make more gray goo. This effect even occurs if the gray goo has been killed; destroying the goo's body is the only way to end this effect.

Objects that a gray goo touches are cursed to turn into more gray goo over time. This time period differs by the target: 1 hour for a square foot of terrain or liquid; 1 hour per pound of a mundane object; or 1 month for magic items. Small or Tiny objects become 1 gray goo, and larger objects become 1 gray goo per 10 pounds of the object's weight. Spells or effects that remove curses prevent the gray goo conversion if the curse is removed before the transformation is complete.

Every time a creature makes physical contact with gray goo, it must succeed on a DC 22 Constitution saving throw or become cursed. While cursed in this manner, any time the creature takes damage, the creature's hit point maximum is reduced by the amount of damage taken, and this hit point maximum reduction cannot be removed. If the creature's hit point maximum is reduced to 0, the creature dies and its body becomes more gray goo (1 gray goo per 50 pounds of the creature's body weight, minimum 1). If the curse is removed, the creature's hit point maximum is restored after a long rest.

Pack Tactics. The gray goo has advantage on attack rolls if an ally is within 5 feet of the target and isn't incapacitated, or if the target is a creature cursed by a gray goo's Convert feature.

Actions

Pseudopod. Melee Weapon Attack: +8 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 7 (2d6) bludgeoning damage, or 14 (4d6) bludgeoning damage if its target is a creature cursed by a gray goo's Convert feature.

[id: monster stat block for gray goo, depicting an elf with their hand converting to gray goo, turning amorphous and partly transparent]

[Original prompt]

[hiriajuu-suffering]

Reasons I believe in Polyamory

I’ll preface this by saying I’m not attractive enough to be able to have more than a single partner at once, but there is a reason for that, and really, the thesis of this wall of text below: heteronormative relationship standards in every culture have always been, and will continue to always be, more about possession than love in a post-imperialistic world.

Personally, I’m a huge proponent of engendered sexuality variance to the tone of males have a constant slow drip of libido and a female’s sex drive hits them like a freight train once a month (in mammalian bioepigenetics, this makes sense). I’m inclined to infer, because I’m not idyllically normatively attractive, only a fraction of a percentage of women will be attracted to me 24-27 days of any given month. As a cisgendered man who is regrettably straight, having the least attractive genoethnic identity intersection (South Asian Muslim) in Western culture, I’m never actually presented with the choices to act on a poly mindset (in fact, I would be ridiculed for it because people think it aligns with some other gross tribal stereotype when it couldn’t be further from the truth). In retrospect, I have everything to gain from interpreting the main benefit of an intimate relationship as ownership like heteronormative culture generally does yet I still think disavowing poly as a legitimate personal choice is immoral.

I know saying monogamous relationships are more about possession than love will offend lots of people, so before you throw hate at me for your emotionally defensive skepticism, hear me out. An unflinching, unyielding love is seen as the highest parameter in any type of romance. So why is it cheating is so much of a bigger problem than a dry spell specifically? Is it because it’s legitimately a breach of trust, or is it more about “if I can’t have you, no one can”? More importantly, does it go a step further and say “if I don’t want you, no one should”? To me, any sort of dry spell (whether physically, emotionally, mentally) signifies a much larger breach of trust than simply having been shared because it shows said commitment in the relationship was not unflinching, not unyielding. The monogamous lens looks at others like: I want to have the best partner, not just so that I’m happy, but no one else can receive the specific happiness I get. Doesn’t that whole mindset come off as brutish? Just me? Well, maybe your pitchforks will start coming down when you realize monogamy is a function of toxic patriarchy on both feminine and masculine ends.

There are bioevolutionary reasons for toxic femininity to value the possession aspect of a relationship over its substantive “quality of life” components, the birth-giving gender in any animalistic specie always had to be beheld to a provider they reproduce with. Does it not then represent a sense of feminine fragility when a single mother immediately demands a long-term relationship and nothing else? If I’m to believe said woman is capable of genuine lust in her system, having a child shouldn’t evaporate all carnal desires completely and, therefore, should leave room for compromise. Said stance also indicates she made some sort of error in judgment of her chosen reproductive mate and feels entitled another man ought remedy her strife even though, evolutionarily speaking, he has nothing to gain from helping to rear offspring not of his kin. Harsh, to be sure, but it does show in the obnoxiousness of the connotation of becoming a stepdad being a positive one and becoming a stepmom assumes the motivation of some gain in status (wealth, fame, power, etc.) which I would argue is negative. Where does toxic masculinity come into play? Desire for possession on the part of a male promotes the viability and exclusivity of his own children with his most desirable partner. While that’s damn near nowhere as compelling, it has to be stated because there are always two benefactors to patriarchy. Patriarchy is not a zero sum game, patriarchy seeks to concentrate all familial social benefits in the monogamously-driven, heteronormative genus, away from those who deviate from the ideal picture of stereotypical gender roles. The ill effects of patriarchal standards exist in every human civilization, but the ontological root to the specific brand of patriarchy that oppresses all genders today was spread by a culture that uniquely preached monogamy.

Polygamy, in a historical sense, was a testament to the more status a person of the provider gender could achieve, the more their genetics would proliferate. Many cultures globally practiced this, the issue is, the ones that didn’t were the ones who, often violently, “conquered” the ones that did. Christian fundamentalism is in every fiber of international morality, whether the nation in question believes in Christianity or not is often irrelevant. Monogamy is enforced, anything outside of that is deemed as necessarily being deviant (whether choosing to be alone or choosing more connections than a monocule). Fetishization of the step relation is eluding to this deviance in a not-so-subtle way because it’s something where its allure is derived from its forbiddenness moreso than its convenience, every one of these scenarios has a subtext of implicit gain, not loss, in engagement. Meaning, the idea is planted because a hot person is there not because a person in general is there and can satiate an urge. Tl;dr - we believe polyamory is a morally negative act because the Holy Roman Empire did and every nation that spawned from it spread, imparted, and coerced that ideal on every culture it came into contact with. Before the Holy Roman Empire, no historical documents made distinctions to behest multiple lovers as desanctifying of life itself, not even the coalescing of nations that made up the Holy Roman Empire before its inception.

We are now in an era when women have access to full reproductive control, yet we still see men lust more than women, e.g. archetypal lesbian tendencies versus archetypal gay male tendencies. Do we not question why this is the case? All lifeforms are hardwired with a desire to survive and reproduce, so why does that drive not reach equity when risk does? There are two answers, and it could even be both: women are only socially conditioned to have sex via patriarchal pressures and don’t have as much inherent desire to reproduce OR sex is a means-to-an-end to exclusively possess a desired provider, whatever said person provides. If said person has a trait valuable enough to want to possess, is it not self-contrived to keep that quality to oneself, not share it with the world where it can provide more utility? Heteronormative relationships, in a sense, are anti-altruistic at their very core. As facetious as this sounds, either of these trains of thought are validated by men being more willing to engage in polyamory than women, not because men are somehow any less loyal than women. On its own, I feel this line of reasoning is enough to justify a vehement disgust of polyamory as immoral, but I want to conclude on the most pivotal facet to this conversation and not just heavily imply monogamy encroachment on moral turpitude is problematic at best.

As I mentioned a few times, I am likely to be a spoke on a polycule, not a member with multiple connections. Exclusive possession is something I probably stand more to gain from than any woman, logically and realistically, given the current social climate and general global beauty standards. My advocacy of polyamory stems from me accepting I may not be enough to be the full extent of happiness my romantic interest desires. That doesn’t even come from a place of insecurity, it comes from a place knowing I could never be perfect even if its pursuit is a righteous cause. I see real insecurity as a fear of loss when the rules of engagement you put into place were exclusivity: you don’t want your partner looking at anyone else because it’s disadvantageous to you, meaning you’re not fixated on their best interest and looking at relationships in said manner is deliberately selfish. To me, the best frame of reference to morality in interpersonal social connections is altruism. Yeah, self-love is important and knowing your own boundaries is beneficial but everyone else’s boundaries don’t have to match yours. I’m not anti-monogamist, really. I’m more anti-polyamorist discontent.

Not having thought this deeply isn’t an excuse, either.

[ardeawritten]

Calhoun Thoughts

Has zero “ten year plan,” became a security guard because the job opened up in a convenient location at a convenient time. Would just have easily been a grocery store clerk or a 6th grade science teacher.

Knows and remembers everyone’s dietary requirements and has the best variety of snacks at the guards’ Superbowl parties, but never directly refers to it.

Definitely believes in aliens, to the point where coworkers have filled the security office with tiny green men figurines and X-Files posters. Would love to meet an alien. Suspects multiple Black Mesa scientists are aliens in disguise.

Has amazing ideas for pranks, convinces other people to carry them out, gets all the enjoyment of watching the prank unfold, is never ever blamed. Lobbies for Black Mesa to get security dogs just so there can be dogs at work.

Takes the Cascade in fairly good stride, as in “alright this is life now we’ll roll with it,” until the familiar faces start dying off. That’s the shift from “oh hey Aliens” to Serious Business and Guns. Is very good with guns because until that moment guns were Fun and Games.

Finds Xen difficult to comprehend but is incredibly proud of getting there and back. The thought of I stood on an alien world and saw an alien sky gets Calhoun through a lot of post-fall Earth. Sees that moment as the one personal good thing to come from the Cascade and its aftermath.

Embeds with the Civil Protection to keep an eye on the flow of surviving humans. Makes an art form of delivering the most convincing beating with the least long-term damage. Has long involved conversations with the medics about how best to cause an appearance of trauma without doing actual lasting harm.

Doesn’t believe it’s really Freeman until Freeman signs I don’t want your cheap beer out of pure reflex in response to “About that beer I owed ya,” because if it’d been a clone or spy, the response would have been literally anything else.

Trusts Freeman to take care of himself. Has seen the Black Mesa tapes and knows what he’s capable of. Focuses instead on getting civilians and scientists out of the path of disaster, because like it or not Freeman’s a person-shaped wrecking ball.

[kitemist]

I wrote a post on twitter called: “Unpopular Opinion: You’re a fake ally.”

I had to write it after my ex-best friend never ceased to amaze me with how horrible of an ally she is, with the added insult of false promises that always break.

It got zero traction on twitter because I don’t have that many followers on there, or people who really interact with me, but I want to post it here too.

From here onwards, it’s copy and pasted from the exact twitter post, and I would appreciate feedback in a civil manner if you want.

“What’s something that you’ll get a lot of hate for if you said it out loud?” I’m going to be subtweeting a very specific person when I say this but I’m going to forward it to you all too. If you feel uncomfortable from what I’m saying, I am definitely talking about you. I’ve seen this several times with this specific person with the added insult of a record of broken promises to be better, as well as the same thing over the past few years from other people, so I am pissed enough to speak out. Obviously, this is just my opinion, disagreements are going to happen, I’m not forcing anyone to do anything, just asking you to read if you want. If a person, or more relevantly, group of people needs help, and you retweet, repost, share, post to your story, spread in any way that you can their cries for help like infographics, GoFundMe’s, links to online wallets, emergency commissions, news updates and all that; if you donate to such things and spread them around; push people to do the same; if you do donation commissions and give the money attained from that to them; bring it up in conversations with them and others every now and then; but you don’t emotionally help your everyday member of that group or that person, especially if they are your FRIEND, YOU ARE A FAKE ALLY. I do not care if you do everything else. If you don’t do that one thing, you’re a fake ally. And doing everything else doesn’t make you a good person either, if that is how you judge yourself and others. And if you're uncomfortable, then leave now. Doing everything else and not that is literally no different than 1 like for water for Africa, those old pics that would ask for likes during early facebook days, with the added insult of a trending event/group of people with it and resurging every now and then whenever something horrible happens, and they’re always seen first. You just click on those things to reassure people that you’re not THAT kind of an insensitive asshole, but then you just feel great about yourself that you added to that number even though you have only done the bare minimum, because you ultimately don’t want to get TOO involved in something that makes you uncomfortable, and give yourself a great pat on the back for all the hard work you’ve done just pressing that button. You obviously don’t care about this issue enough to throw your comfort zone aside, even for just a second. We don’t have that choice to not see it like you do, and we feel a lot more than just “uncomfortable”. For WAY longer. Doing those things without emotionally supporting the actual people just separates yourself from the problem in a convenient way. Passing thoughts and prayers and especially clicks on posts aren’t going to help anyone but a completely detached algorithm. You do not get credit for doing the bare minimum and expect the same rewards as passionate, achieving activists. I’m not just talking about #StopAAPIHate just because it’s trending right now, this applies to literally every hashtag that is the only way of a group of people’s cries for help that generates some kind of attention to everyone else that people care about. I’ve seen it be a pattern for enough time now. I’ve seen stories of people who would use #BlackLivesMatter, or the name of any black person who died, as a way to spread it by their banner or profile picture or even turn it into a meme that pushes people to sign their latest petitions, but then completely disrespect actual black people or don’t do anything else for their causes. The only reason you would ever do this is because you care about other people’s approval of you, not actual POC, and you only ever see them as a trend or a platform to be trendy. As a POC myself, we are more than just a fucking hashtag on twitter. We’re more than just a label to reassure people that you’re not a bully. We’re people. But I guess that’s too hard to understand for those fake allies, all they ever see is something to click on, and they’ll get the same credit as those genuine allies without having to work. Or be UNCOMFORTABLE, God forbid you have to step outside of the comfortable world you think you live in. Now for donating money. I get that monetary support isn’t something that everyone can afford to do. I’m not forcing or expecting everyone to do that or not do that. If you can’t, then I recommend spreading donation posts, for the hope for it to come by someone who can and will. You can then still be a vehicle for help if you cannot provide it yourself. But I know that everyone is capable of being completely fake when it comes to donations when they have that kind of money to spare. You can totally just dump $100 or so into a GoFundMe, and never interact with anything related to that group of people ever again and live a completely separate life, with that same convenient separation, but with a receipt this time so that if it’s brought up again, that’s all you have to show to say to them to not worry, you did something, you’re not THAT kind of fake asshole because your wallet is involved this time. It’s what youtubers do when they have to make a YouTube apology just so everyone can stop hating on them for a little while. Anyone can do that. I’m not assuming the worst in everyone, I’m saying you don’t need a platform to be an asshole. Money doesn’t make you better or worse than anyone else, it just shows that you’re more financially well off to be able to donate and that’s something that we can appreciate, but it’s not pure sentiment. Money isn’t feelings. It’s just money. It doesn’t tell us anything about your morals. It doesn’t care how you obtained it and it doesn’t care where you spend it. Donating from your heart and donating from your wallet are two very different things, but it’s not like we can tell from here, so we can’t give you credit for that, especially if those donations are also in the complete public eye. That kind of difference is only discernable to us long after, and even then, that requires some detective work and pattern searching with other donations you have made in the past, if any. Sometimes we don’t even have that time to see if that genuine empathy would come about or not. Whether or not you have a heart in that donation or not, it’s not like we can read your mind as you press confirm. The money doesn’t tell us your feelings, morals, or your heart. Only you can. And you have to WORK to tell us that. You can be appreciated for giving a monetary donation, but that appreciation is toward the money and not at you as a person, and if it is, it’s not towards the real you, it’s only towards you at that time and who knows if that’s gonna change within a minute, or was superficial the entire time, or if it’s the real ally we all knew we needed. We wouldn’t know, all we see is a name and a money amount. Those real allies take time to come out and solidify themselves within themselves and within others, but it’s not as soon as their money disappears. You don’t get credit as a person and your morals when it was the money and temporary self at that time that ultimately helped them. Just because you were behind that money doesn’t mean that the morals associated with you are in that money, and who knows if you were the same person as you made that donation a week ago. Do you know exactly where the dollar bills you have right now have gone through? How many inhumane multi million dollar corporations, or funding something harmful? If you can separate yourself from that, then the money you’re giving can easily be separated from you in both morals and in bank accounts. That’s what you’re choosing to give away as well when you make a donation. If you’re completely fine with that, then donate if you still want to. Just know that by doing that, it doesn’t make you special. In the end, the only thing received is money, not thoughts. That money is completely useless if it’s not being spent towards that needed relief, after all. You can also totally give out of obligation or social pressure instead of believing in the cause or caring about the person affected. That’s not being a real ally either. That’s hopping on a bandwagon because that attracts you more than what the cause is, because the value of human life doesn’t line up with your own. You would only care about this BECAUSE it’s trending, not because it has ever gotten to your emotions, morals, or anything you care about. Giving a donation or not doesn’t tell anyone anything about you, other than how relatively well off you are in terms of money and time, and that’s not relevant to what’s being asked. Donations can have so many motives behind it, and you are not free of those motives just because we can’t see it immediately, and those motives are completely lost once that money is received and eventually used. Money can be helpful in terms of alleviating the situation, but ultimately, it’s not help in placing you on a moral scale whether it’s others judging your character or just judging yourself. And there’s also the risk of donating to a complete scam, and again, money doesn’t care where it’s going to or where it’s coming from, because it’s just money. Not everything that is asking for donations is a scam, but because of this possibility, what you claim to be your one act of good will from your heart in the form of monetary support can easily be debunked and ultimately be used against you whether you were aware of this being a scam before then or not, because the internet is very reactive more than anything else. And if you are donating from your heart and you end up donating to a scam, that’s just even more emotional damage to you as well as the cause, an even worse situation. So again, monetary support isn’t any better than what I determine to be the one defining factor of being a good ally. It’s just a different kind of support that can be useful but it’s not with any heart in it. And because most of those people asking for donations would say that even a little bit helps, the amount of money you’re donating doesn’t give you more credit than others, it just puts you higher on the highest donations list that is made by another detached algorithm, which is ultimately meaningless except for telling whoever clicks on that list how much money you were willing to spare to them, and not what you were thinking when you did it. To be a real ally, that’s a constant effort more than just money or spreading posts. It’s something that can’t ever be measured or manipulated by any algorithm. And I know that the majority of “allies” die out as soon as it’s not trending anymore. It’s happened enough times and how much it happens just has it be a part of a trend’s life cycle on the internet, and that temporary life in the public life can vary greatly. That constant effort also does not (solely) consist of making more donations to more places. That’s just another kind of monetary help that’s ultimately just money. That doesn’t tell anyone anything about you other than that you can afford to do so and being able to afford to do this can sway you on either end of the moral scale, whether you care about that or not. To give an example, the overwhelming response to the Notre Dame fire in 2018 showed what could have been possible if everyone donated what they could, and of course the response to that has never happened to any disaster before, and to my knowledge, ever since. All those millionaires and some netizens credited themselves with their affluent donations but everyone else only saw them as those who ultimately did nothing when any other disaster also needed help in the past and since then, so those donations didn’t make them any kind of ally even though they gave more than the majority of the world can ever afford to give in their lifetimes. Why didn’t every other disaster that lasted longer, had more casualties and damage, had more emotionally traumatic damage that lasted from then onwards, have as much support as this one fire that didn’t completely destroy this building? With almost a billion dollars (954 million USD) donated towards restoration in such a short amount of time, there was still anger, especially towards those who have donated that. And people who have donated copious amounts were also not technically millionaires, but still made and had enough to be part of that same 1%. And anyone can be in that nonspecific well-off group, not just people who were born rich or inherited it. There have been debates that this was a matter of how personally interested these rich people suddenly became because they saw the Notre Dame as a beautiful tourist spot full of history, even though there was a museum in Brazil that was nearly completely destroyed, with majority of its contents and even more history gone forever on the same day and didn’t get a fraction as much attention as this did, and got even less donations. Therefore, monetary support doesn’t give you, or anyone, any more moral high ground, no matter how much it is, because again, it’s just money. It can be help, but not like human support. All that being said, I still think it’s great if you can afford to keep donating to people in need, but if you want to make your support stronger and genuine or have a solid foundation that can be paired and amplified with monetary support, it won’t cost you anything but your time and changing behavior. And right now, I bet everyone reading right now has a lot of those two if their wallet is empty. To do so: • Learn about our struggles. We’re not asking you to be total experts on this, but to know enough to answer, “What can I do to help?” and “What do they need right now?” and it’s best to have them answered by us. Listen to us. And keep making more questions the more that are answered. The best way to learn is to ask. • Speak out against hate speech of any kind from anyone, no matter how much you like them, when you see it in the moment, and hold them accountable. Just saying racism is bad isn’t going to help anyone, but to call out a specific person as a racist will challenge them, because there’s more at stake than just a fact that racism is bad. Whether you want to be polite about it or not is your choice, whichever is more effective. Their feelings are definitely not more important than what they are contributing to the problem. • Emotionally check up on us, we aren’t fine if we have to see more of our family’s beat up faces on the news and screens, or see our family and friends being even more scared to go outside with every passing day. Whether it’s talking about the main situation in depth or providing a respite in the form of having fun when asked; emotional check ups are what makes you the real ally first. • Reassure us that whether or not this is just another trend you see everywhere on social media for the day, you’ll always be there for us, and then hold up that promise, follow through with it whenever we are in trouble. If you consistently do this, it won’t turn into a super conscious decision anymore to be an ally, you’ll reprogram yourself to learn and think that you are now involved and can fight with us, whether or not this becomes something in the twitter sidebar to look at. • Acknowledge your privilege as someone who isn’t targeted and, depending on who you are, would never be targeted, in whatever way that would be, and use it as a weapon for us if applicable. Ex. if you’re white and straight and the current group that needs help is not white and not straight, let them speak about their struggles, amplify their voices because you have the privilege of having more people taking you seriously and paying attention to you, and learn about what you can do to help them and make their life easier with them knowing you are an ally. Redirect that attention and authenticity to us because we sure can’t make it by ourselves. • Learn and involve yourself in our culture if that helps you learn more about us, that is not appropriation. We totally welcome people who want to learn more about us in a respectful and open-minded way. You are a constant learner in doing this, as well as doing any or all of the above-mentioned tasks. There’s no real end to being an ally, just as there is no real end to the fight. It’s always better to ask questions than to keep it to yourself and mess up. There was always a better time to learn all of this, but the second-best time is right now. Just because you never learned this earlier doesn’t mean you can’t start to change that. We won’t shame you if today has to be your first day as long as you stay just as eager and able to receive criticism from then onwards. Even if you become well educated, don’t act like you know exactly what it’s like. Because no matter how educated you become, you are ultimately not us. Keep that in mind as you embark on your journey. Constant effort is what every single one of those groups need, I guarantee that. It’s such a great skill that can be used in anything. Consistency is rare and powerful and key in achieving nearly anything you want. But that’s not something we can automatically detect and always takes time to make happen, there’s no shortcut to that. Are you just going to retweet these for a day or week or month or two, or are you going to speak out whether you are going to put a tag on it or not? Are you just going to donate a small fraction of your paycheck once or are you going to keep going whenever you can and donate to even more people that need help that isn’t just part of that group? All we see is that one instance, and people are pouring either their first or their first and last instances of helping us, and there’s no way to differentiate who’s what until that first wave dies down. And that is a journey of watching it be less and less important on the timelines, growing disappointment and sorrow that we have always felt from the beginning, something that no one outside of the current targetted trending group, or anyone who has ever trended, can ever understand or experience. It’s like wearing halloween costumes that are clearly a costume from another culture. You can wear that costume, or in that case, that hashtag for a day. We wear that stigma for life. I hope this post makes you reconsider what you’ve been doing in terms of fighting for social justice, or at the very least, make you uncomfortable enough to think about what you have been doing for such groups of people who need help. Obviously if you are a real ally as I’ve described by not only doing monetary donations if applicable, but fighting back, constantly learning, and emotionally supporting and checking up on your friends constantly, this post isn’t talking about you. And if you don’t want to learn about all this stuff that can be towards the better, then there’s nothing that can ever help you. That’s just willful ignorance at that point and I as well as others are completely free to judge you for that. On the note of being a good person or bad person, I know that’s not how everyone wants to judge themselves. Looking deep enough, it can be subjective, or just a matter of good actions and bad actions instead of good people and bad people. Either way, you have that “good” and “bad” judgement on something, even though that concept itself is also a spectrum, and at times, they can be applied to both people and actions, such as a good person making a bad decision or a bad person making their first good deed. So, whether it’s actions or people, being a “good person” doesn’t excuse you from your mistakes or shitty decisions. A good record can just be completely shattered at any time. A lot of people who we have thought were “good” have been exposed, and those who we thought were “bad” have been redeemed. It’s celebrated in fiction, but apparently not welcomed in real life. And improving your allyship as I described above doesn’t automatically make you a “good person”, if that judgement is what you have for yourself or want to have for yourself, but it IS a very “good action” to get started in expanding your world beyond what you initially knew before this post, because it’s always a “good action” to constantly question what you know before making judgements or actions. That constant questioning is learning and not being compliant with how things are, because things can always be better. Being a bad person entails not caring about doing better and is magnified by being two-faced like being a fake ally. And you can also stop caring at any time about yourself and what your morals are. Not all fake allies are “bad people,” maybe they just needed an awareness check that emotional support makes all of their previous work or work afterwards more authentic and appreciated. I don’t blame anyone who really didn’t think that emotional support wasn’t part of helping those who need it and now take that fact in stride, or just didn’t know how to do that in the first place. But all “bad people” are fake allies because they don’t care enough outside of themselves to change what their environment presents themselves with, or just complain about it without bothering to question or research why things are that way. And obviously, “bad people” would contribute to the problem by either never being an ally in the first place or do the bare minimum in allyship and expect rewards without being caught in the stress that comes with actually fighting for a cause. So, if you read this entire post and are one of those people who do the bare minimum but want the rewards, or think I and others are just too sensitive, and have no intention or desire to change any of your actions around pleas for help from groups of people or even start to think about changing that, I would think you’re a bad person. But that’s only how I judge you. I know plenty of bad people who go on and life happily knowing how many people hate them whether they know them personally or not. If you’re taking that so personally, you could have left much earlier in this longass post. I don’t know what you expected with me talking about this topic and somehow not being super cordial about it. I don’t owe you a polite tone or managing your feelings, and neither does anyone else. If you really think my tone is the problem here more than anything I have ever explained in this post I guarantee you’re a bad person who is just looking for an excuse to completely dismiss this even though you had the opportunity to do so much earlier, around 4,000 words ago. And if you really need someone else to help you with your fragile and insecure feelings, I guarantee that they’re not on the internet. Again, to reiterate, this is just my opinion, feel free to tell me any of your own. I’m not forcing anyone to do or stop doing anything, I just appreciate that you read this far. I hope you reconsider how to fight for your loved ones that aren’t as well off as you are, or how to fight alongside others who have been though the struggles of being either underprivileged or just not as well off. Thank you.