#addition out there while i was thinking about it

[luckiestboy]

too many people are too focused on punishment/revenge on the perpetrator... while we've had studies that show prevention helps way more, and it's always been such a puzzling thing, i've questioned the way people care about CSA, with;

"why do you need a child to be abused before you care?" (you as in general, not you as in op)

fairly related additions under the cut

i think more people who are focused on punishment, need to watch the skip intro video about TCAP, since it seems like an easily available way to absorb information both about CSA abuse statistics, and how "revenge fantasies" don't help in the long run. i say this because many many people will likely be disinterested in reading articles or statistics, as bad as that mindset is, i would like to at least get them to think about the topic to begin with. as much as i hate the fact youtube essays about this include sponsors/patreon plugs, i get why it's done, it's a job that's besides the point though.

to summarize: He outlined how TCAP is more of a "revenge fantasy" and makes content out of reality of many people, majority of which were abused by those they knew (he also mentions that aspect.) instead of a possibly educational show, it was the same as current-day youtube "predator catchers" who were fueled by it, and yes the show ended, though it's impact remains.

the video is technically about how they "kinda killed a guy" which people argue "the guy shot himself, nobody but him pulled the trigger" but i feel like those people are missing the point. the criticism stems from how the "Education" chris hansen did, how he rushed to a swat raid for content, putting other people in danger, considering the man had a gun, what if he shot someone else?

again, i ask them, why do we wait untill a child's been abused and traumatized for life, when we have evidence teaching kids these things, helps them more, and avoids trauma.

or teaching them, if there were no signs, if the perpetrator was a child too, that it's okay to speak out, to seek help, comfort and guidance.

I'm someone who was SA'd by a classmate, a "friend", i have spent a decade repressing the memory, and when it surfaced, i denied it was SA because it wasn't what i considered to be SA, because "well... he didn't grope me, it was just a kiss, i wasnt traumatized", ignoring how i cried recounting it to my psychologist when being interviewed during the process of diagnosing gender dysphoria, as when i was put in a situation to recount memories or experiences, it was one of the few things i remembered, before coming out.

i never even got justice, because another child did that to me, i was never apologized to, even. because nobody ever said to speak up.

if i were taught to speak up when someone did this to me, i wouldn't be met with the horrified look my mother gave me, when i shared the story around the winter holidays, deeming it a "funny" thing from my childhood. and her question.

"why didn't you tell me?"

i was 7, maybe 8, there weren't any signs for my autistic little brain to pick up, and even then i was never taught about signs, only to never go with strangers.

i was told being taunted or teased by a boy meant he liked me, i was supposed to be happy, right? someone liked me, that means what they did was good. it didnt matter i ran from him before i was trapped.

the fact im so fucked up mentally, and hesitant of affection horrifies me, because those who endured worse? what about them? the mistreatment i went through were isolated incidents, and they still left a big impact, those incidents, caused me to subconciously try and present myself in a "tempting" way to one of the few male middle school teachers i had, in hopes of being abused more.

and i think about others who've gone through worse, the mental strain, and how people seem to be so focused on punishing the abuser, instead of helping the abused.

yes an abuser should be punished, but involvement shouldnt end there...

Speaking as a survivor of child sex abuse: the world would be a lot better if yall spent less time talking about the ways in which pedophiles should be punished and more time supporting survivors and preventing abuse

I get it, punishment can feel cathartic. I’ve certainly spent time imagining all the ways in which my own abuser might be punished. But ultimately, him dying, or being jailed, or publicly shamed, isn’t actually going to help me nor will it stop more kids from getting hurt in the future.

I don’t want more prisoners. I want free therapy with trauma informed counselors. I want better sex education for young children that teaches them about consent and body autonomy. And I want a society in which I can openly discuss my trauma, or at least as openly as yall discuss the evils of pedophiles

[pomefioredove]

WAH UM

I remembered your fics about a younger Yuu and I’ve been patiently waiting for requests to open up—

May I request a fic of Lilia and younger Yuu having some bonding time? Like, Yuu is helping Lilia dye his hair and asks Lilia to dye theirs too? (Also bonus if Lilia goes “yeah I’m gonna adopt this kid” at the end)

Thank you for your time, get well soon!

*is months late* sure!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ hair dye

summary: with a younger yuu type of post: headcanons characters: lilia additional info: platonic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, yuu is like 12-15ish years old, reader knows lilia's age

it couldn't have been a "coincidence", as Lilia claimed, that he just "happened to run into you here"

...in your dorm

but that's what he said, and by the expectant look on his face, you knew he wanted your help

you tried to warn him that you didn't have much (or any) experience doing something like this

"the messier, the better!" he says with a smile, reassuring you that Malleus and Silver had done much worse to his hair over the years

still, it takes a lot of courage to take the brush and the bleach to his roots, trying to make a straight line that would connect with the faded, pale pink below

Lilia goes on about how "convenient and failsafe" modern hair-dyeing methods are, and how one can do them even without magic

"I've been trying to convince Malleus to get a streak or two. He'd look lovely in purple," Lilia sighs. "But he can be terribly stubborn, and won't do it without magic."

you blink, rinsing off the brush in the sink as the pink dye sets

"You can do mine, if you want,"

as if that were his plan all along, Lilia perks up and gets to work while his dye is still setting

he asks your color of preference and when you shrug, he says he knows just the thing and puts a streak in your hair with expert precision, not missing a beat

he refuses to do any more than that, stating he'd like you to get used to it before making such a dramatic change

it's over sooner than you think, and once you've rinsed out the dye you're...

...matching

it looks good, though, and he insists you take a picture together in the living room (Grim is invited, even though he refused to dye his fluff pink with you)

it feels familiar... no, familial, especially with the way Lilia sets up the camera

as if you're taking a cheesy family photo to hang on the wall

[honeyhenry]

The Sweet Outdoors

this was sitting in my drafts, then I had a job interview, and now I'm back and have finally edited and uploaded it!! sickly sweet as always, and I want to give baby wayne a name so any suggestions are welcome! also any requests pls send them my way! word count: 1.8k+

“All I’m saying, is that if I had my way-"

“If you had your way, Bruce, she wouldn’t see outside the walls of the manor until she went to school!” You reply, only half joking. The look he gave you in return was one of a furrowed brow and pouted bottom lip.

“You mean we’re not homeschooling?” was his grumbling reply.

The look you gave him suggested that he had most certainly better be joking, and if not, then to start being extremely quiet.

“I think getting out and about will be good for you both. You especially.” You look pointedly at your husband, who is doing his best to disagree with you, although it’s not in his nature to deny you of much at all. “There’s a lot of world for her to see out there and who better to take her around safely to see it than you? If it were me, Alfred or anyone else, you’d worry.”

Bruce had been dead set against hiring a nanny. You never needed to work again, and honestly neither did he. How difficult would it be to raise your little girl all by yourselves, especially with Alfred running everything else behind the scenes? Apparently more difficult than expected. You were currently sending him on some errands in the nearby village - bread, jam, and "actually see another adult who isn’t your wife or butler, Bruce" - with his 4 week old baby, to better socialise her.

Socialise her. Bruce had hummed in great amusement at that. Socialise a 4 week old who couldn’t even hold her own head up. As if you had to train her up for a gala specifically for babies. His baby wouldn’t be going near such an event for as long as he possibly could hold off the idea. Maybe when she turned 18.

Maybe.

And now here you were, his wife, sending the apparent loves of your life away to socialise. Bruce swore that when he woke up this morning, he thought that you loved him. And now, wearing his cotton navy shirt and dress trousers, he was being carted off alongside his daughter to Do Things while you responded to letters and invitations that had been sitting for weeks now, congratulating you on your new addition. (Bruce knew you’d also aim to have a bath, and knowingly laid your favourite towels and soaps nearby.)

“Fine. We will go. If only to give you some peace.” His words of submission to your plan made you beam.

“Thank you honey. I know once you’re out there you will enjoy some time with her! Oh, she won’t be a little indoor hermit like her father after all!” That earned you a playful smack on your ass, before you were being silenced with a kiss from your husband.

____________________

Never one to question things, aloud you had spotted Bruce eyeing up and very nearly becoming entangled in the sling you’d purchased for this very occasion. He didn't speak, but his eyes screamed; “what the hell is this?” and “why does my wife look so thrilled by the whole premise?”

“it’s a baby sling. You get to wear the baby.” You smile, giggling at his expression shift to one of even deeper confusion.

“Wear her? Like a - what?”

“Come here. Look.” You raise your arms up high to pull the first section over Bruce’s head, pulling it down and securing it at the sides. You pull a couple more strands of fabric across his thick, muscular back, and then around his broad chest until it looks snug and secure. You stand back to admire your work. Before Bruce actually says what the expression on his face already tells you, you reach into the bassinet by your bed and bring out your sleeping angel. Carefully, you slot her into the small pouch made in the sling at Bruce’s chest, listening to her quiet grumbles and squeaks as she’s positioned correctly.

“There we are! See, you’re wearing her! It’s perfectly safe.”

Bruce doesn’t speak for a moment, typical of his character, but you decide to check in with him anyway.

”Bruce? B? You can take the stroller instead I- if it’s not-“

He smiles. Gently, but it's there. “No. I-" she clears his throat. "She’s right here. It's good.” He presses a large hand tenderly to her tiny back, utterly besotted.

_________________

it’s not a far walk to the village. You often walked down the winding lane headed in its direction in the weeks leading up to your due date, waddling with Bruce or Alfred for just under an hour to arrive at a small confectionery store, post office, and a small collection of other amenities.

Bruce, with his baby girl close to his chest and snuggled safely beneath his coat, briskly walks there in 20 minutes.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to think your mother just wanted the house to herself. We both whine a lot. She says that you get it from me.”

Bruce looks down and is met with a wide-eyed stare, hanging on his every word. He decides to continue talking.

“I think this is your first visit around here. What do you think hm?” He asked, before realising quickly he wouldn’t get an answer. “Trust me, this is the nicer part of town. Over there by that cherry blossom, your mother made me stop the car after our fourth or fifth date to take a picture underneath it. I still have that picture on my desk. Which is up there in that tower.” he pointed up and East to the far-away Wayne Enterprises building, its blinking lights glowing in the distance. Some day, he would show his sweet girl his offices, but not any time soon. He figured there’d be a lot of attention, and his girls didn’t need that.

“And over there, by that fir tree?” He treads through the gravel to reach a wide open park, with hedges covered in yellow flowers. “We were on a picnic over there last year, barely anyone was around, and your mother…in the nicest way…she threw up right there on the base of that tree. I had to hold her hair back and pray that no one else in the park had seen because it was bad. Funnily enough, the next day, we found out about you.” He smiled softly at the memory.

“You made your mother sick in public and she was mortified, worried about sullying our name and legacy, as if I could care about anything other than the one she was already growing.”

He stopped and stood at the fir tree, strong roots forming thick branches which gave a luscious green tone to the leaves. A small gurgle and soft kick to the stomach made him blink out of his trance.

“You’re right. We should keep moving.”

_______________

“Oh Mr Wayne! How good it is to see you out!” Doris, the local and utterly harmless post office attendant enjoyed seeing the young man every so often, knowing that his trips down to the village were few and far between. She knew of his kindness and polite nature, and had always taken an interest in the seemingly more human side of him. Less billionaire, more Bruce. He liked her small talk and pleasantries, and the warmth she held in her eyes that extended to the actions of her heart.

“Doris, good afternoon. We’re just here for some jam. Has the raspberry still been popular?” his deep voice questioned, lowly, still in the habit of not arousing too much suspicion.

“I may have put one aside…I know Mrs Wayne enjoys it especially. Is she with you today? Has she-? I mean- I know the jam was helpful with her cravings..” she began to whisper.

Bruce smiled. Mischievously. Doris was indeed privy to the information that much of the rest of the world had yet to discover. Against Bruce’s wishes and supposed better judgment, you’d walked along to the village store early on in your pregnancy and found the most delicious jam, made on a local farm and thoroughly endorsed by Doris herself. You had misspoken, and told her how perfect the jam would be for satisfying your cravings now that you could keep your meals down before you'd clamped your hand over your mouth in utter disbelief that you had slipped up.

Doris had been more than understanding, not even breathing a word to the other workers or locals in the small village. She cared for the Wayne family, and wanted them to feel as normal as possible. Occasionally, Bruce would come in and share a small update, but other than the gift basket of jams and baked goods that she had sent to the manor a few months ago, contact was kind but infrequent.

Which is why now, when Doris had asked for even the smallest update, yet not even daring to ask the question “Has the baby arrived?” in fear of disturbing their privacy, Bruce decided to reward her patience and loyalty.

Opening his coat jacket, he revealed his daughter’s dark tufts of hair and tiny sleepy frame. Her coat, which was adorned with tiny, soft, yellow stars, and the little cream mittens slotted over her hands to stop her scratching, were now in full view.

Doris gasped. She looked to Bruce and smiled, tears glazing her eyes but not daring to fall.

“She’s 4 weeks old. Beautiful like her mother. Tends to be a little grumpy like me. Which is why I think we have been sent away for the afternoon.” He uses his pointer finger to hold her entire hand, making sure she knows he is close as she wraps her fist around his fingertip. “We are grateful for your gifts, Doris, and for keeping our little secret. Just for now.”

With a gleeful smile and having placed their shopping into a paper bag, Doris giddily sent them back on their way.

_____________

“Maybe this whole outdoors thing might work out. What do you think?” He asks again, as he feels the tiny hand grip his finger as tightly as she could muster. “I agree. Your mother will be beside herself. Still, that’s why we love her. She tends to be right.”

As he walks back up the path, albeit at a slower pace, he can see the manor’s gleaming windows and ivy strewn walls. The lights are on in the north facing wing and he’s hopeful you will have had some rest while he has been looking after your daughter. It really had been a privilege to care for her, to quieten her whimpers and keep her safe from any growling dogs or sharp stares from strangers who happened to realise who they were passing in the street.

“Here we are, princess. Home sweet home.” Climbing the steps with care, he pushed the heavy oak doors open to step into the grand foyer. “Darling, we’re home!” Setting the jams down gently, he watches as you rush down the staircase to greet them both.

“Never leave me again, never listen when I say you should go. Please, I missed you both terribly!”

Bruce grinned. You would forever be keeping him on his toes with your strange ideas and passionate declarations - and if he was lucky enough, you and his sweet baby girl would be doing that for the rest of his life.

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [9]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 8.4k

HAPPY BORA MONTH EVERYONE OUR BOYS ARE COMING HOMEEEEEE

to keep the updates somewhat stable, I'll be only posting on wednesdays KST (pretend that its still wednesday, I got caught up playing grow a garden lmao)

Sorry for the late update, our capstone mobile project got scrapped mid production and we now have one month to finish it (damn u prof), with the addition of creating an e-commerce app for a diff subject. So yeah fun :D! (im about to curse them down to their grandchildren)

n e ways, here's the update. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you all for your patience and support!

Maybe it was a mistake cracking your eyes open and making space in your already minimal cubicle room but could anyone blame you for doing so when you’ve got a pouting Jimin and the ringing absence of his body heat against your skin had overcome your better judgment?

“Noona, can I bunk with you?”

It was a simple request, you could’ve said no and Jimin would’ve returned to his seat to sleep alone. But seeing him, with his hair mused from the tossing and churning he must’ve done earlier in his bed, matched with his pouty lips and barely open eyes, you couldn’t dare say no to his face.

Moving aside and inviting him without hesitation was something you never thought you'd ever do in your life—at least while sober. 

Scared of crossing boundaries with your best friends, you had stopped yourself from entertaining anything past what you deemed is platonic and acceptable. 

Sure there were times you’d let the maknaes snuggle up next to you but other than the few times you had let them do so after they had grown past their teenage years, cuddling had become rare once they were adults. 

Maybe it was because you had spent weeks sleeping next to Jimin during the times you had to stabilize the bond but it felt odd not sensing someone else’s body heat next to you, or having the mattress dip from someone’s weight—Jimin’s weight specifically. 

Somewhere, sometime during the nights you had Jimin next to you, he had become a beacon of protection and safety. In the short time you were alone in your cubicle, you had found yourself missing his presence and the soft glowing pulse of your soulmark near you. His absence rang and resonated loudly in the quietness of the flight. 

You had comforted yourself earlier, reassuring your own longing heart that you’ll get to sleep next to Jimin again once you’re both off the airplane yet.

But the heart is fickle and not easily convinced once it begins to want and yearn.

To be able to welcome Jimin into your bed without going through multiple pages of pros and cons to letting your friends momentarily cross the line, the old you would’ve had an aneurysm and you excuse it as one of your (probably) sleepy mistakes.

“Close the blinds so the stewardess won’t see us and scold us for… bunking together.”

“Just say sleeping together, noona.” He giggled. “It means the same thing, right?”

You said nothing, only moving to make space for him.

Slipping inside the already small space, he closed the slides behind him and laid next to you. Automatically, his hand seeked yours in the dark and pulled it close to his nose, making goosebumps prick your skin as his hot exhales breathed warmth and lit up the golden swirls of your soulmark into your body. 

It bloomed elegantly from your palms to your knuckles before eventually fading somewhere mid-forearm. They glowed a soft golden light, a stark brightness in the darkness of your cubicle but you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bothered by its llight. In fact, it had begun to instill a degree of comfort whenever it gleamed behind your closed lids.

Your heartbeat then began to drum in your chest, the loud thuds resonating through every bone in your limb, rendering you weak under the cold relieving effects of your soulmark.

“Didn’t mean to bother your sleep,” Jimin had murmured softly. “I just… It felt weird not being able to sleep next to you.”

Maybe it was the sleepiness from travelling at midnight that made you put your guard down. After a socially exhausting day of having to lie to a thousand people and dealing with worried friends, you dare to let yourself enjoy the presence of your soulmate without the ugliness of insecurity.

“Me too,” you whispered.  “I missed you, Jimin.”

It felt so odd letting such a sentiment slip past your lips yet it felt so right uttering his name next to it.

He giggled and it sounded like the chimes of the sweetest of bells as a large, embarrassed smile cracks through his sleepy expression. Shy, he hid his face into the back of your hand.

“Did you really?” He asked through his giddiness. “You missed me?

“I missed you, Jiminie.” You repeated.

His giggles multiplied and with it, the radiating comfort from where you’re both connected growing warmer and brighter.

“How am I supposed to sleep after hearing that? Noona, I think my heart might explode from how fast it's going.” 

Jimin then brought your hand to his chest and pressed it against his rib. Feeling his heart race under your palm, you wondered how he hasn’t exploded from how concerningly quick it’s going. 

“The other guys are going to be so jealous. I’m so excited to brag about it.”

“You’re going to tell them?” You asked, curious.

“Rarely do I get anything to brag about. I also wouldn’t miss the chance to hold it over Jin and Jungkook’s head.” 

How is it that something you usually regard as a red flag could pale when it comes to your best friends? Telling other people of your business should’ve made you frown yet you found yourself uncaring of the fact. They’re all your soulmates anyways, you mentally shrugged.

Closing your eyes, you prepare yourself to welcome the serenity of sleep, thinking Jimin had fallen asleep already in the short time you were reflecting on your reaction to hearing they share tales with each other about you.

To your surprise, Jimin spoke again.

“Noona, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“You can say no and not tell me but,” He took a tentative pause. “I just… kept wondering why you feel so undeserving of us.” 

After you had fallen asleep after Hoseok’s celebratory dinner, Jimin had sneaked away to tell the others of what you think of the soulmate bond. He had briefly and very vaguely told you what they had talked about the next morning, saying it was just a simple discussion on how they'll proceed with you and left it at that. 

And as much as it was frustrating being left in the dark, you knew deep inside to not pry for more information knowing it might become fuel for the bald headed demon of insecurity.

“Don't you already know?”

“I might but I'd like to hear it from you personally.”

You debated on telling him, scared to hear your own faults be spoken out loud in the small space of your cubicle. For a moment, you thought to ignore his question and to talk about the interviews they had lined up on days they were to rest in between shows but don’t they deserve to hear it straight from you?

“I feel bad because not only did I reject some of you, I also talked about my other relationships and my search for a husband with you all. I ignored your feelings for a semblance of normalcy, especially Jin’s, although he'd argue that I didn't know. I still think I should be crucified for that. All I wanted was the closeness we all had before feelings got involved but it only got more twisted.” 

Hearing you say it out loud made your sins sound more evil than it should be. It echoed in the silence left by your reply. Your words bounced off the walls, seeming to gain more volume the more it reverberated, sounding more taunting and mocking as it went.

Then all of a sudden, the cold relief that flowed under the swirls on your arms grew hotter as if lava had replaced them. It stinged like dislike and burned like disgust. Panicking, you pulled your hand away but Jimin was faster, tightening his hold around your wrist.

“Noona—”

“I swear I'll try and make it all up to you somehow. It's gonna take a little bit of time but—”

“Listen to me, noo—”

“Please, I don’t 

Jimin pressed a finger to your lips and shushed you.

“You don't owe us anything, noona. Don't force yourself to reciprocate our feelings or our efforts preparing for our dates will end up being useless.” He laughed. “But seriously, let yourself feel whatever you want to feel because at the end of the day, we're all connected anyways.”

Your frown deepens and your stomach hollows itself up. It is not how it should be. Soulmate or not, they should make you work for their forgiveness, especially with Jin and Jungkook but instead the two of them had easily waved off your mistakes as if they never existed in the first place.

Normally, you’d have your partner atone after they hurt you, right?

“Why are you guys so accepting? Don't you think that I should redeem myself first? Don’t you at least resent me a little for what I did?”

Being one of their closest friends in and outside work for five years, you were introduced early on to them in their lowest, their ugliest, and them in their happiest. They could forgive betrayals and bullying but they would never forget the names and the faces of those who discredited and snubbed them. 

So for those same men to easily shrug off your sins as easily as breathing, you couldn’t help but feel unworthy of their kindness.

“It's such a cliche answer and I know you’ll kill me for saying it but it's because we like you.” You opened your mouth to refute but he shook his head and continued. “I know. I can't believe that I'm saying this too. You know how we roll but ever since the marks manifested, I just… everything doesn't matter anymore now that I'm tethered to you. Because the moment Healing Touch manifested, a new chapter has started.”

Hearing the confusion and reluctance in your silence, Jimin opened his arms for a hug and you surprised yourself with how fast you had leaned in.

“Noona, you know what I realized while we were adjusting to the bond? Love is as powerful as the movies portrayed it to be and it's scary how it can change a person.” He paused, as if he’s mulling over an idea at the tip of his tongue. “Sure, if you really want to and if it makes you feel better, you can ‘make up’ for us but don’t tear yourself down in doing so. Healing Touch could fix anything but I doubt it's powerful enough to revive an exhausted mind.”

Between the effects of the soulmark growing stronger with you both cuddling up to each other and being engulfed in the soft scent of his peach cologne and the subtle fruity scent of his conditioner, drowsiness easily finds its way to you.

Experiencing the same drowsiness brought by the calmness from the soulmark, Jimin yawns.

“Does that answer your question, noona?”

“Yes,” You say, the exhaustion of today finally overcoming your own will to stay awake. “Thank you Jimin.”

“Good night noona, I hope you dream of the sweetest dreams.”

“I hope you do too.”

_______

“Okay so, how about this one?” Taehyung enthusiastically began, showing his screen to you. “Do you and hyung share any existing scars?”

“I don't think so? If we had, the scar on my knee would be reflected on him but there's none.”

His excitement mellows down as he scrolls through the catalog of body-altering soulmate marks. 

After waking up in time for brunch, Taehyung hadn't stopped his search for the right soulmark for you and Hobi. His experimentations ranged from observing your shadow by having you hold your arm above the table to see if your shadow could reflect Hoseok's movements back home, to making you meditate and imagine switching bodies with Hoseok, and lastly, pinching yourself to see if their hyung could feel the sting from wherever you currently guys are.

Despite having their own seats to occupy on either side of you, the two men had naturally gravitated to your space and squeezed themselves into the footrest in front of your reclined chair before Taehyung eventually decided he wasn’t close enough and squeezed himself in the small space next to you while Jimin continued to occupy the footrest, taking your legs to rest on top of his thighs to idly pressed his thumbs on your calves.

You and Jimin luckily woke up before the attendants had made their rounds for breakfast. 

He was sulking when he left your cubicle with his sleep-mussed hair and jutted out bottom lip while carrying the pillow he brought. Seeing him trudge towards his seat—which is directly to your right as you’ve been placed in the middle—reminded you of a sad, wet pup whose day has been ruined by the sudden downpour of rain.

Breakfast came ten minutes and once the plates were collected, Taehyung had practically bounced from his cubicle to yours with Jimin following soon after, acting casually as if you both weren't cuddling each other barely an hour ago.

It was always odd cuddling up to Jimin with the context of being soulmates. It was awkward and embarrassing whenever you woke up to his arms wrapped tight around your waist and his breath on your skin. The irrational, overly-conscious part of you yelled at you to wake him up and tell him to return to his cubicle yet the more deprived within you demanded you stay silent.

And for the first time with a sober mind, you decided to stay silent.

What can you do against a heart that began to yearn for someone's warmth?

“How long before we land?” Taehyung asked, breaking you out of your trance.

“Three hours or less, why?” Jimin responded.

Tae pursed his lips. “I'm just thinking about something…”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what does that ‘something’ entails?”

“It'll ruin the surprise if I tell you.” 

The cheeky grin brightening Taehyung's face was enough to let you know that he's planning something devious and you shared a worried look with Jimin. 

Not noticing the shared look, the younger boy continued. “Management agreed to let us drive on our own right? I'd like to take a detour to Walmart before we arrive at our hotel.”

Jimin made a face.

“How about no?”

“Guys, I promise on my necktie collection, I think I've finally figured out what soulmark noona and Hoba got.”

Before you could push him for more information, your mother’s message popped up on your screen and you turned your attention to it.

[Today, 10:23]            [10:23] Mom: Have you guys arrived in the states yet?            [10:23] You: not yet            [10:23] Mom: Always be careful when walking around with those two boys, people can get a little bit crazy even if they know you as their make up artist            [10:23] You: dont worry too much, im strong enough to handle them💪💪            [10:23] Mom: Strong my foot, you can barely book a doctor's appointment without me            [10:23] Mom: Anyways, the reason why I messaged you was because I had a talk with Guwon’s aunt and found out you used to go to the same high school as him             [10:24] Mom: Our town really small is for the two of you to be in the same school before             [10:24] You: really? I dont think I remember seeing him at all. Did she tell you which batch he was from?            [10:24] You: also im shocked she didn't ignore you after guwon and I ended things on a bad note            [10:24] Mom: She said she's not fond of the boy, saying he gives her goosebumps.            [10:24] Mom: I honestly don't get why, that boy seems nice            [10:24] Mom: But that glistening peach face of his became a squid to me when he said all those things to you            [10:25] Mom: However, I won’t deny how kind he was to us before. Did I tell you that he had climbed our trees to pick us fruits after I introduced him to you?            [10:25] Mom: Also she didn't tell me what section he was from, only that you used to go to the same school            [10:25] You: maybe I'll take a look at the yearbook when I visit            [10:25] Mom: Alright. Don't forget to buy me those biscuits you bought me last time, okay? Me and your dad loved those            [10:26] Mom: Say hello to the twins for me and your dad😄            [10:26] Mom: Stay safe, alright?            [10:26] You: always, I love youu😘            [10:26] Mom: Stay safe and come visit soon with your nexus alright?

Double tapping on her message and sending a quick reply to her, you then notice the obvious interest the boy beside you has over your conversation.

“You used to be schoolmates with Guwon?” Taehyung asks, his eyes shamelessly connecting with yours as if he wasn’t reading your messages not a second ago. “Was your town really that small?”

“Yeah but the thing is, I couldn't remember him. If his stories were anything to go by, he was his batch’s president from start to finish. I was the vice representative of my class so I would've attended council meetings with every class rep from every junior and senior high section. ”

“Wait, how are you schoolmates with Guwon when he's five years older than you?” Jimin chimed in, confused.

“Our town was so small they put elementary, middle school and high school in one place.”

It was to cut costs, the municipal mayor had reasoned. Having all the grade levels in one place not only saved space but also meant the small number of teachers from your town could cycle through the classes from different grade levels in one place, cutting off the time allotted to walking from one school building from one part of the town to another.

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows as he processed the words and grimaced but before he could say his piece, Tae spoke.

“I don't want to hear anything about a shit stain like Guwon anymore. Past is past so let's focus on the future, are we all in agreement? Yes or yes?”

With no one going against his wishes, he smiles and shows you his screen once more.

“Now that's done, I found another one! Hear me out on this, noona—”

_______

Despite Jimin’s best attempts to take the car key from Taehyung, who had practically tackled the guy handing it off to them, the fate of your hair is unfortunately now in the hands of the boxy-smiled boy who swore his plans would never hurt you; not even a sting, he had promised and crossed his heart too.

Never had you thought that approaching a vehicle could feel so daunting now with Taehyung as the driver. You expected this for Namjoon and maybe Jungkook and Hobi but never the rest.

“Stop looking like you guys are walking towards your inevitable death, I swear that what I have in mind is far from harmful.” Taehyung reassures as he tugged along your luggage with his before stopping in front of the trunk to open and load your baggage in. “Besides, I've checked with Joo hyung and he said that he's been planning to bleach Hobi’s hair at some point anyways.”

You broke the speed of light with how fast you spun around.

“We’re going to bleach my hair?!”

Taehyung nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! I’ve been asking our hair stylists’ for permission these past few weeks and they finally gave me the green light earlier!”

“Hobi and the others must be on their way to the airport right now, should we really risk bleaching noona’s hair and in turn, change his hair in public?” Jimin asks, trying to deter the boxy-smiled boy.

Taehyung hummed thoughtfully as he finally lodged the final bag into the truck.

“I know it'll be bad but it'll be so funny.” He huffed out a laugh. “I mean imagine, they'll be leaving early in the morning, Hobi would still be sleepy and as he heads into immigration wanting nothing but to board the plane and finally sleep, his hair color changes and he's suddenly being pulled to the side for questioning which forces him to stay awake a little longer.”

Jimin blankly stares at him for a while, as if his mind is recreating the scene in his head before a small giggle escapes him.

“...Ok, I won’t lie. It’s kinda funny.”

“Right? So, is my dear Jiminie going to help me with my plan?”

“We’ll be sentenced to months long dish washing and house sweeping chores.”

“I know but don’t you want to get back at Hoba for putting us through hellish dance routines?” Taehyung knew what words to use. Years of being friends with Jimin had given him the PhD to understand what stokes his twin’s interests. 

You see the shift in Jimin’s opinions as soon as Taehyung said that. You saw it in the way a mischievous light found its way into his eyes and the subtle quirk in the corner of his mouth.

Despite knowing the consequences of their actions, Bangtan's maknaes will always be maknaes. They wouldn't miss the chance of getting back at their Hobi hyung who had made them dance till the soles of their feet melted away from the friction. 

Soon enough, you find yourself standing behind the twins under the broken overhead light in the haircare aisle at Walmart after a quick drive-thru—which Jimin had begrudgingly ordered your food despite Taehyung being the driver. 

It was a wonder how nobody had figured who they were when they're giggling loudly like devious kids at the hair care section. You had been nervously looking over your shoulders to make sure no one who could recognize them was near as they whispered mischievously to each other. 

There’s a woman at the far end of the aisle who’s busy comparing two conditioners and a busy mother with two fussy children trailing behind her going down the aisle. Focusing on the former, you swept over her sling bag for any keyrings and badges that might indicate her being an AMRY and when you found none, you turned your attention back to your soulmates.

Being in public with worldwide superstars is going to turn your hair white.

Should you start mastering SFX makeup to change their appearances?

TUG!

You looked down at the string on your pinky to see it half tangible with a soft glow of red. Wrapping your fingers around it, Yoongi's concern bleeds into you.

‘Okay?’

‘Nervous.’

It was odd how you could feel his eyebrow raise from so far in the temporary absence of his reply.

‘Why?’

‘Twins. Mischief.’

The string thrummed a low tune as if to replicate the sigh he must've let out from hearing it.

‘Good luck.’

Turning your attention to the twins, you find them now debating on what brand is best with Jimin reading reviews out from his phone and Taehyung insisting he had seen people use the dye in his hand more therefore is much better.

‘How are you?’

‘Preparing. Jungkook just woke up. Seokjin screaming. Hoseok stressed. Namjoon lost’

You smiled as the image of Seokjin, possessed by the spirit of an airport dad, ordering and rushing their youngest whose face is contorted into a frown with eyes barely open to gather his essentials while Hoseok sits in the living room with his arms crossed next to Yoongi who’s sitting next to him and both scrolling on their phone. 

Namjoon is probably running around for anything he must've forgotten to pack or put into his bag, a hunt Hoseok had purposely put him on to distract him from stressing over his bandmates.

Mind wandering to Namjoon, you closed your eyes to try and focus on his heartbeat. It has faded into the background hours in the flight earlier but it had always been there, although required high concentration to hear.

“Should we try a bold hair color too? I wanna know how he'd look in blue.” Jimin asks his friend in a low voice, unaware he's speaking rather loudly for you to hear. He holds up a box dye and you narrow your eyes at the item in suspicion. “Oh, toxic green sounds good, no?”

Tae tilts his head. “Will noona even let you?”

You didn't have to imagine yourself with the vibrant shade of green for you to interfere.

“Noona will not let you, actually.” You said, letting go of the string as you took the dyes off of his hand and returned it to the shelves. “Bright colors would not look good on me.”

“Then let's stick with bleach but having fully bleached hair is a bit standard, a bit on the boring side so—how about we just bleach your ends for a change?” Jimin suggested, eyes looking up at you and it felt like he’s shooting you puppy eyes even when he’s not trying to.

“If we’re going to only dye the tips, then wouldn’t having a fire-like effect look good?” Taehyung chimed in, holding up an orange and a red dye in both hands while his eyes continued to scan the shelves. “Oh wait! If you really want something that isn’t too eye-catching, how about ash grey tips?”

“As much as I appreciate your confidence in me pulling a red orange ombre, I really don’t think it will, in all honesty.” You say and Taehyung practically wilts, his hands falling to his side yet his eyes continue to scan the shelf for another color to suggest with the eyes akin to a kicked puppy. “I’ll consider the ash grey, though.”

Immediately, Taehyung brightened up.

“I think you underestimate yourself noona, you’re very pretty.” Jimin says with a sheepish smile.

Suddenly feeling shy, you averted your gaze and cleared your throat.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

You don’t even know how a compliment from Jimin, something you get from him weekly, could elicit such a reaction from you. It took everything in you to not widen your eyes in realization when you noticed how bashful you had become.

One night of deep talk and you’re already flushing. You don’t even want to imagine how you’ll react once the relationship deepens.

“What the fuck.” 

Taehyung’s eyes bounced from you and Jimin, incredulous with a hint of betrayal.

“Did you guys do it on the plane?!”

“What?” you and Jimin squawked.

“No cause you guys didn’t act this way before! What did you guys do while I was getting my beauty rest?! ‘Cause that would be so disgusting I was literally a few inches away from you!” Taehyung exclaimed and you have never been so grateful he wasn’t screaming in English.

What a scandal it would’ve been. BTS Member Kim Taehyung revealed his co-member Park Jimin had FREAKY SEX in the PLANE with his MAKE UP ARTIST?!?! 

“Whatever you might be thinking, we didn’t do it!” Jimin exclaimed, scandalized.

“Then explain what I just witnessed there!”

“You’re hallucinating!” 

“That's just the jetlag!”

_______

Due to Taehyung’s excitement, he had made the trip to the hotel a quick affair; moreso the trip to your room when he practically vibrated in front of the desk and snatched the key from the hostess and crossed the distance between where he stood to the elevator with five steps.

The hotel bathroom is too small to fit three people, you think. While not physically a tight fit, your heart seems to beat twice with every tick and expand to fill your entire chest and spread the jittery nerves of anxiousness throughout your entire body.

With Jimin taking out the hair dryer from the cabinet and Taehyung eagerly mixing the solution together in the black bowl they bought next to him, you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bathtub silently relishing the feeling of foreboding doom as you watch the twins flutter around preparing to dye your hair.

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” you asked, fingers fiddling with the hem of the shirt Jimin had randomly picked out to wear while having your hair bleached.

Hair dying has always been the hair stylists job while the idols sit idly in front of them, moving only when the dye is going to be washed off or while waiting for the colors or bleach to set in. 

And you’re putting your full trust on these idols who haven't bleached their hair themselves.

Where’s Jin when you needed him?

Taehyung grinned. In a different setting, you’d think his square-shaped smile endearing and cute but with the tint brush and comb tool, and the plastic bowl full of bleaching solution in both hands, he never looked more menacing than he does right now.

“How hard can it be? We’re just going to dye the tips.”

“Remember, if you mess up my hair, you might also mess up Hoba’s hair and an angry dance instructor and second leader is not something you’d want,” you reminded as Taehyung approached you.

Jimin, ever the supportive soulmate, placed his hands on your shoulder and led you to the chair he dragged in from outside. “We know, don’t worry, noona. We had someone teach us how to dye it earlier.”

“Who?”

“I forgot his name but we saw him on YouTube and he’s got a pretty big following so that must count for something, right?”

Hearing that, you began to pray to every divinity out there who could hear your pleas for a successful hair bleaching.

“Alright, I’m gonna start now, noona.”

You watched cautiously as Jimin allocated a bunch of hair into the aluminum foil and Taehyung started his work on dyeing the tips of your hair. 

The twins stayed silent throughout the process, as if they’re also holding their breath like you are doing.

It wasn’t the act of having your hair dyed by the twins that had your leg restlessly jumping—you could have the ends cut off if you ever decided it didn’t look good on you—but rather the prospect of facing Namjoon’s disappointment when the sudden change in Hoseok’s hair is noticed by the TSA and delay them. 

Yoongi and Jungkook would laugh, Seokjin would feign disappointment and try to lecture you until people turned their backs and he’d shower the twins with praise. But Namjoon, the man is far too stressed from the multiple roles he has to take in as they enter foreign soil, to have their first day in America to start off with one of the members being held off at customs would add unnecessary weight onto his shoulders.

You don’t want to add more to the weight pressuring him down. Not to mention, you also haven’t atoned for your mistakes yet but what can you do against the unstoppable force that is Jimin and Taehyung?

With the final piece of hair being covered in the bleaching agent and foil, the two then stepped back to admire their work.

“See? Nothing to worry,” Jimin says, almost as relieved as you are while picking up one of the foil-wrapped strands and securing them.

Taehyung rotates around you, searching for a strand he had possibly missed.

“Alright, we just need to wait for a couple of minutes before we wash it off.”

But even after those words had fallen out of his lips, he continued to flutter around you as if his hands, who had just learned how to bleach and felt the rush of chemicals from doing great at it, itched to add the alarming amount of leftovers onto your hair. Taehyung pursing his lips solidifying your guess. 

Jimin who had finally turned back around after searching the sink for his phone, saw this and placed a hand on Taehyung's shoulder.

“I know that look, don't do it.” Jimin said as he reached for the black bowl.

“I'm not even doing anything, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cause I know you.”

Taehyung laughed incredulously and waved his hand at the man. “Of course you do, silly. We've been together for six years now.”

“Don't do it.”

“I'm not doing anything!” The younger man pouts. “Matter of fact, I'm not even thinking about doing anything!”

Letting the boys chatter in the background, you open your phone to see messages from Jungkook flooding your notifications.

[Today 15:12]            [15:12] Ggukie: NOONAAAA            [15:12] Ggukie: namjoon hyung told me to inform you first as courtesy            [15:12] Ggukie: but I'll be your first and only handsome date for the weekend :D            [15:12] Ggukie: dont tell jin hyung but i definitely cheated to go first            [15:12] Ggukie: he just didn't notice HA!            [15:13] Ggukie: for our magnificent date, wear something comfortable but also a little elegant☺️            [15:13] Ggukie: just a smallll bit 🤏            [15:13] Ggukie: not that you even need to style urself much tbh            [15:14] Ggukie:  you'd look cute even if you're wearing garbage bags and those stupid colorful feather accessories😁            [15:14] You: what time are we gonna leave?            [15:14] You: what do you have in mind for our date? o.0            [15:16] Ggukie: telling you would ruin the surprise            [15:16] Ggukie: so no😁            [15:16] Ggukie: but we'll go after lunch            [15:16] Ggukie: is that good for you?            [15:17] You: of course            [15:17] You: how elegant do you want me to be?            [15:17] You: like fancy candlelight date kind of elegant? Or an attending an important social event kind of elegant?            [15:17] Ggukie: haha            [15:17] Ggukie: nice try noona            [15:17] Ggukie: i was raised by seokjin and namjoon, you can't fool me that easily             [15:17] Ggukie: just wear something comfortable with a hint of elegance😁

The conversation ended after Jungkook's last reply and you finally turned your attention back to the oddly peaceful twins now discussing what food to order with Jimin looking over Taehyung's shoulder and navigating the man's phone.

Soon enough, it was time to wash your hair and you find yourself bent over the bathtub as Taehyung rinses the bleach out.

Since the moment the bleach had started to take effect and begun to lighten the tips of your hair, the twins had been giggling to themselves nonstop as they unwrapped the foil, murmuring scenarios of how the rest of the nexus must be reacting seeing the tips of Hoseok’s hair changing a different color. 

(“We’re not even sure if this is our soulmark, we could just be dyeing my hair for no reason at all.” You chime and Taehyung shrugged.

“Even if nothing were to happen, at least you got yourself a good hairstyle out of this, no?”)

Once the dye was washed off, Taehyung fit a towel over your shoulders and gently placed them behind you before leading you to the chair in front of the vanity sink where Jimin is plugging the hair dryer in before switching it on to try the strength of the air on his hair.

“Is it good, Mr. Park?” Taehyung asks in a formal accented tone as he sets you down on the stool.

“All good here, Mr. Kim. It’s working fine and well! Just set down our pretty client so we can start drying off her hair.”

Before you could offer to do it yourself, Taehyung draped the heavy towel over your head, patting and mushing your face instead of your hair. With a slap on his forearm, he laughed and tugged the towel back to properly dry your hair.

It didn't take long before the three of your phones on the far end of the sink began to vibrate, screens flashing as message after message floods in from individual chats of the members and the group chat. Jimin looks over to see who's getting the most notification before giggling to himself as he picks up his phone.

“Congratulations noona.” He says, making Taehyung stop drying your hair to jog towards Jimin and look over his shoulder.

Taehyung began to gloat about how he ‘knew it’ but it all faded into the background as Jimin turns his phone towards you to show a flustered Hoseok, smiling shyly with the ends of his hair bleached as a hand that seems like Jungkook’s buried into his sleep-mused hair as he looked away.

“I knew it! I told you all it was twin mirror in the first place and nobody believed me!”

“You were telling them to cut their hair or get injured, of course no one would listen.” Jimin deadpanned.

“If you had only trusted my intuition!” Taehyung chided.

Jimin continued to scroll on his phone and you reached for your own phone to face the chaos happening in the group chat when Namjoon's voice echoed in the small space of the bathroom.

“You three better prepare an explanation later when we get there and I better hear something good from you all.”

_______

Namjoon really doesn't know what to do with you.

It has been weeks since Jungkook's birthday and the soulmarks’ manifestation yet he seems to always find himself either awkwardly hovering behind you or staring at you for an inappropriate amount of time as he pondered over the words he wanted to say.

(Not that they mattered anyways, he always ended up tongue tied in front of you.)

They could demand him to convince a businessman to stop running his factories that's effectively harming the environment or to convert an iPhone enthusiast into a Samsung user, yet all of those would be miles easier than knowing how he should treat you.

Should he follow the footsteps of the men in romance novels and movies with the bouquet of flowers, lingering touches and constant reminders of their love for their woman or should he be normal?

But what is the definition of normal in the context of relationships and how you treat your soulmate anyways? 

What even is considered as normal in something that sounded so impossible to be real like a fated spiritual connection between people?

Suddenly, he was reminded of the night the mark manifested. 

The chaos and the raised voices as his brothers clamoured over each other's opinions on how to proceed with the newfound connections. Namjoon could almost feel the rattling headache he had back then, could even remember the sobering realization as he watched as the rest of the original four soulmates—not including him, he was busy massaging his forehead as a bad headache formed at the front of his skull—actively debated against one another.

He recalled thinking how no man would fight so valiantly for a woman this passionately if they weren't interested in them romantically. 

He saw this behavior from the men surrounding him growing up from his friends, his teachers, his classmates to even his cousins and uncles. Namjoon has read of the bloody wars waged for rare beauties and love before then. To be greedy and wanting to capture and have something shiny is human nature, it's ingrained into man’s programming.

Even then, seeing it happen before him surprised him.

Seeing his brother clamor over each other—while more respectful than you'd expect from four guys being tethered to one girl— he remembered thinking: Am I the only guy who never thought of you as a romantic partner?

Namjoon had always thought of you as one of his dearest and closest friends. If he was to put you in a tier, you'd sit next to his family, and the group. You've always been someone he could trust with his worries about fame and the pressure from leading six men and their company to the top. You might be one of his friends but you were special to him, just a little like his brothers, if not more…

Special? Would that be the correct term to describe how he thinks of you?

Sure he had found himself subjected to your warm hugs and a couple forehead kisses—and maybe cheeks too—but all of them were platonic.

At least, that's what he thinks.

Women hugged and gave each other cheek or forehead kisses, it was to show their appreciation through actions. Surely it can also apply to male and female relationships without the romantic context like they do too?

(Namjoon would think back to this day later on and scream profanities into his pillow, embarrassed by his stupidity)

Having to see you sit on the floor next to Taehyung and Jimin had distracted him more than he wanted to. Even when he had scolded the twins from your trips before, he never had to sit you down to reprimand you for encouraging or letting them do all the mischief their heart could ever want. 

He’s seen how his dad treated his mother, and he sure as hell hasn't seen his father ever scold his mother.

So when one of their bodyguards, Beomseok, came and said you needed to pick your and Jin’s dinner, he was relieved. He didn’t want to show any favoritism towards you just because of your spiritual connection with him—not that anyone would be upset by this but he’d like to make it fair for everyone in the nexus.

Namjoon waited until you were out of the room before turning back to the troublesome twins who just raised their hands above their heads once again.

“Hyung.” Tae began.

“I don't want to hear your excuses, Tae.” Namjoon sighed, massaging the space between his eyebrows. “While I appreciate you all for helping Hobi to figure out what soulmark he has with noona, would it hurt for you three to do it while we're all in the hotel?”

This soulmate thing atop of his duty as the group's leader might be enough to make him volunteer for a cryogenic sleep pod experimentation. He could use a decade or century long sleep to heal from the heavy mental toll from leading six men and a company to where they are now.

Be a leader, they said.

Being a leader would be mentally stimulating enough, sure! he had replied, stupidly.

“We learned something from noona earlier.” Tae said, effectively catching his attention. When Namjoon said nothing, he continued. “Apparently, she and her ex used to go to the same school together but the weird thing is, they never saw each other despite being in the council at the same time.”

“What are you getting at, Tae?” Namjoon asks.

“Doesn't it feel like a drama-esque cliche where he followed her through adulthood then struck when the opportunity came?”

“I think you've watched too many dramas and read too many comics, Tae.” Jimin giggled lightheartedly. “Your imagination is getting a little creative.”

“No but seriously, I have a bad feeling about this.” Tae insisted and Namjoon almost believed the determined sheen of his eyes if it wasn't for the steadily slow descent of his raised arms. “I’ve always said that he's got the facial structure of a manipulator, even got those hollow and tilted eyes of a creep!”

As much as he likes to entertain every absurd and out-of-the-box idea of Taehyung, there still exists a line where his imagination reaches the point of impossible and frankly, nonsensical. Coincidences exist, and are unpredictable and sudden, there's nothing he can do much about it.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “You're still hung up on that?”

“Let's not speculate, it's most likely a coincidence.” Namjoon interrupts before the twins can begin their banter.

“Of course I am! There's definitely something off about that guy!” Taehyung insisted.

Namjoon sighed, already noticing the boxy-smiled boy’s hand slowly fall to his sides. “Tae, don't think for one second that I'm not noticing you slowly letting your arms down.”

“Can I put my arms down, hyung? I was the one who suggested bleaching the tips of noona's hair instead.” Jimin asks with his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes rounded and glossy as it stared back at him. “Could you imagine if I had let them—”

“No, keep those arms up and repent.”

_______

Staring at the burly man walking in front of you, you began to wonder if his excuse has any credibility behind it.

Beomseok, although a new hire, has quickly become one of your close work friends when he had saved you from an insistent visitor in the BigHit building back in August. It was easy to feel endeared towards a man who looks all intimidating with the tattoos, muscles bulging out of his shirts, and a buzz cut but in actuality has a heart softer than a well-oiled machine and carries the scent of coconuts with him. There is no doubting how safe you feel with him but Seokjin would never ask to save you from Namjoon’s scolding, if anything, he'd be scolding Namjoon for even including you.

“Did Seokjin really call for me?” You asked Beomseok.

The man shook his head. “Someone did call you, but it's not Seokjin. Yoongi had asked me to retrieve and walk you to your room. Said it was better to have Namjoon face a stranger than his band members so he'd let you go without question.”

“Guess I'll be thanking him then?”

“Not a thanks for me?” He asked with a playful lilt in his voice.

Stopping next to him, you then bowed low at the man with hands folded over your abdomen, surprising the man who had jumped at the sudden action.

“Thank you o’ benevolent god Beomseok for saving a poor soul like I from the impending doom that is Namjoon's scolding.” 

“Stop that! Oh my god!” Beomseok says as he wildly motions his hands for you to raise your head.

When you looked back up again, the man had a flush of pink dusting his cheeks as he looked away and scratched his nape. Seeing Beomseok, with his muscles proudly bulging out of the black uniform shirt he's wearing and skin designed with loud and bold tattoos, acting shy and faint-hearted, you laughed.

It was unreal how a man almost thrice your size could easily remind you of a shy kid.

“Are you seriously getting shy over that? What's so embarrassing about me expressing my gratitude?”

“I-I don't even know myself.”

“How else can I express my gratitude towards you then?”

He stops and you finally realise that the both of you had finally arrived at the door of your room.

“Buy me lunch tomorrow? I heard they're serving pizzas and carbonara tomorrow.” He offered, voice weak as he shyly scratched his cheeks.

“Deal!”

_______

Your night had continued on with no more excitement for as long as you and Jimin could last without being in the presence of each other. So for a long while after today, the energy winds down to a calm and you find yourself scrolling through your naver feed to catch up on news and celebrity gossip you had missed earlier while you were getting your hair dyed.

It wasn’t until the last minute before the effects of soulbond strain kicked in did Jimin stroll into your room with a pillow in tow and dressed in a hoodie dwarfing his figure matched with a Red Bulls basketball shorts. 

Closing the door behind him, a soft smile grows on his face. “Hi noona.”

“Hello Jiminie.”

“I need my noona time before Jungkook follows, I think he wants to start his day a little too early.” He says before throwing himself to the empty spot next to you and pulling up his phone to scroll through his own feed like old time.

It takes him a minute before he's linking his arm with yours, another to have him throw his leg on top of yours before he eventually molds into your side. Healing touch thrummed happily under your skin from the proximity and you find yourself melting in his arms not a second later.

This was the position Jungkook and Hoseok found you both in when they eventually entered the room. Without hesitation, they joined you both with Jungkook taking your other side while Hoseok had snuggled up behind Jimin. 

“Look at how cute you and Hobi are with the matching hair!” Jungkook points out, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger before he reaches for the hand holding your phone where the music note tattoo is engraved to the side of your finger. “Can I borrow your hand for a little while, noona? I miss feeling connected to you.”

Switching your phone over to the other, you took his hand in yours and entangled your fingers with him. Cold shivers racked through your body as two soulmarks resonated within you, catching the attention of your soulmates.

The Bangtan pile only grew when the rest of the boys poured into the room with Seokjin tugging Namjoon inside.

Seokjin occupied the spot behind Jungkook, but not without the maknae teasing him when the bed had creaked while Yoongi pulled the chair by the large window pane to sit next to the overflowing bed before opening his laptop and putting his headphones on. 

Namjoon followed the older rapper's actions when he had occupied the floor next to the bed, and Taehyung threw himself in the space between Seokjin and Jungkook, to the dismay of the two men.

There's not a single word in the English nor any language’s dictionary that could ever describe the comfort and security you felt being surrounded by your soulmates. No matter how much the ugly head of insecurity whispers about how you don't deserve any of them, it was futile to deny the bond you shared with the boys. 

You had begun to get used to the electric sensation Taehyung and Jimin's touch evokes, the constant feeling of Yoongi's presence lingering in the background through the red string, and the faint pulse of Namjoon's heartbeat yet you couldn't even imagine how you had lived for so long without the pulls and the sensations having soulmates has given you.

To be parted from your soulmarks would be like tearing an organ out of you. 

It might be overwhelming with all the information your mind and body is receiving from having seven soulmarks but you couldn't trade for the word. 

Come the day you lose the calmness from their touch and the constant reminders of their presence in the background, you might find yourself a husk of a human with no more purpose to live in the world.

With Namjoon's calm heartbeat in your ears, the thrum of Jimin and Jungkook's soulmark, and the one-sided activation of your and Yoongi's red string of fate, you let the newfound drowsiness take over you. The sound of your friends’ hushed chatters fade into the background as your eyes fall to a close, the romance comic on your phone blurring.

Someone took the phone from your hand and you vaguely felt a pair of plush lips pressed into your temples before you last heard a sweet whisper in your ear.

“Sleep well noona.”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife @bjoriis @btsgangleader @butterfly-lover

[drdemonprince]

the anti-psych convo is so tough to me because there is no denying the damage that the system does, especially to folks with schizophrenia/psychopathy or who are diagnosed on the personality disorder spectrum (a whole mess in itself), but at the same time i see folks on here suffering horribly with the burdens of depression, anxiety, OCD every day and explicitly saying there’s no hope because they don’t trust any type of therapeutic method and man… those are treatable conditions with solid treatments available in many cases, but they won’t even seek a solution, and it makes me sad because i know what that suffering is like

i would be in such a horrible state at this point in my life if i’d never sought help or been recommended DBT treatment, but i also recognize the privilege and straight up luck I had in receiving help and getting better. idk i was glad to see your nuanced response on it because there are SO MANY anti-psych messages that boil down to cutting people off from resources that could help them, like free DBT workbooks or OCD treatment programs online, but none of that can be considered because it’s “brainwashing yourself into feeling better”. it’s like a fundamental misunderstanding of how our minds work and how much value we should be putting into the destructive thoughts many of us develop due to trauma and poor childhood environments

idk i have no solutions here, i just appreciated the nuance because i usually see nothing but hardline stances on either side. it’s not just one path to healing, and even an imperfect system can bear fruit, but we also can’t discount the horrific amount of power psych practitioners wield to hurt people

Thank you, I appreciate all that you've said here. People are not political abstractions; we need to take the personal steps that will help us to get by in our lives, and that frequently means engaging within an unjust system or paradigm and getting what use we can out of it. A lot of therapy is awful, system-justifying stuff, but it also helps people a lot to have a dedicated, private talk buddy. Psychiatric drugs are used to immobilize and passify people, and they also make a lot of people feel better. Sometimes even a pretty subpar psychological or psychiatric treatment is what a person prefers over having to kill themselves or not be able to hold down a job, and while that's not a situation of unconstrainted choice, it still is their right to make that decision, in my view.

I think a lot of people online can be very politically dogmatic and puritanical, and also that a lot of heavy internet users are traumatize and in hopeless-feeling situations and have become quite compulsive about projecting that hopelessness outward at others and at every potential way to get better, because if there is no point in trying then they get to just rest and allow themselves to feel badly. Sometimes that's where a person is at! Fine. Wallow. It preserves energy. But a lot of people eventually have to develop agency for their own sake, and learn that even a moderate reduction in suffering is actually worth working at, and can eventually snowball in a positive direction. I hate anti-depressants; I think they are dangerous, poorly supported by research and over-recommended, but if someone is suicidal and some anti-depressants keep them kicking around long enough to stay housed, get some additional help, and then make choices that more materially improve their lives, what's the issue with them using them? Hell if someone just happens to like how those meds feel, do I think we should take them away? Absolutely not. I don't think anyone should have the authority to take those things away. And that includes psychiatrists!

[centaurianthropology]

What LeeBeeBee does for the Story of ‘Murderbot’

So we’ve finally met Blonde Lady in the series (her name is LeeBeeBee), and I think she’s filling a really interesting and important role plot-wise and worldbuilding-wise, and doing so in unexpected ways that are surprising even book-readers.  She’s wholly original to the show, so no one knows what precisely the writers have planned for her.

But I certainly have thoughts and predictions. 

I figured I’d break my thoughts on her up into two sections.  The first section is for all the folks who are show-only, and I’ll only be examining her role in S1E5, without any additional speculation pulling from book knowledge and what I think the writers are doing with her in the longer term.  The second part will speculate on the upcoming episode, and how I think it could play out.  No idea if I’m right about everything (or anything!), but it’s always fun to speculate!

FUNCTION IN S1E5 (SPOILERS FOR E1-5)

Let’s kick it off by talking about LeeBeeBee in isolation in this episode, what her function in this particular episode was, what she does for the plot, the larger world, and what she does for the storytelling format. 

Let’s start with her plot function, the most obvious part of her role in this episode.  She appears at the beginning as the sole survivor of DeltFall, makeup smeared and uniform dirty.  This immediately sets her apart from the PresAux gang.  She’s apparently the indentured cleaner that DeltFall rented for the hab along with the SecUnits, and this cleaner is wearing makeup despite having a physically laborious job in a field unit on a mostly-uninhabited planet. 

This small bit of visual storytelling sets DeltFall up as a very different society to PresAux.  PresAux deliberately only took one (cheap) SecUnit, which is understandable given their objections to using constructs as slave labor.  None of them wear makeup in the field, and they certainly don’t have a cleaner.

But DeltFall not only had multiple constructs, but also an indentured servant to do housekeeping, and there is either an expectation or a cultural norm that she be made up while she do her indentured job.  They feel, from this introduction, very Corporation Rim. 

LeeBeeBee herself acts as a personification of the Corporation Rim on a level we haven’t been able to dig into with the limited screentime of the Company Tech Bro sales reps.  From her first scene on the hopper, she feels like she’s from a completely different world to the empathetic and sweet Preservationers.  She almost immediately objectifies SecUnit in a way that is openly offputting to both the audience and clearly to the Preservation crew, who likely don’t say anything both out of shock and out of some belief that this woman has to have some sort of brain damage to say something like that.

But this level of objectification, I think, lies at the heart of the Corporation Rim.  It’s not that constructs are objects, but their workers are valued.  LeeBeeBee is an indentured servant.  She has no more free will than SecUnit.  She objectifies it because she sees herself as a step above a construct, and in the CR hierarchy, you’re likely encouraged to objectify anyone beneath you.  And that comes around to something equally uncomfortable when she finds out it’s got a hacked governor module and is a rogue.  She views it as a person now, but what does that mean? 

She objectifies herself for it. 

And doesn’t that make the worst sort of sense on a survival level for a person in her position?  She’s fully adapted to doing what she has to do to survive.  She views sex in an incredibly transactional and exploitative way.  When she thinks SecUnit is an object, she has the power and she immediately speculates about using it as a sex toy.  When she shifts into thinking of it as a person, she also knows how dangerous it is, and reverses their power dynamic, offering sex as a transactional way to protect herself. 

It’s awful, deliberately so.  But I think it’s a great and visceral way to get into the Corporation Rim mindset: constructs aren’t special; everyone who isn’t wealthy or powerful is an object.  You don’t get to be a person with fully autonomous choices until you’re one of the elite.  Until then, sex is just another way of trying to get a slight advantage in an endless rat race.

Having LeeBeeBee represent this deeply uncomfortable aspect of an end-stage capitalist hellscape like the CR also does something on a storytelling level.  This addition of an outsider character fully shifts the POV in the show.  Up until her introduction, the PresAux crew felt like the strange outsiders that MB was judging, but by introducing the worst possible representation of the CR, our alignment completely shifts.  We are not only on Preservation’s side, but we are insiders with them.  They now feel normal and lived in, and she feels like the outsider.  And this reflects the shift going on in Murderbot.  Even before it’s willing to acknowledge it, through the framing of LeeBeeBee we subconsciously know it has realigned itself with the PresAux crew. 

So that’s why I think she was an effective addition in this episode.  If you’re interested in some book spoilers and speculation for the next episode, jump below the cut.

FUNCTION IN S1E6 AND BEYOND (SPECULATION, SPOILERS FOR ‘ALL SYSTEMS RED’)

Are they gone?

Groovy.  Let’s get under the hood and talk about all the ways she’s working on multiple levels, not just embodying all the worst parts of the CR as I previously mentioned, but playing it up as a means of camoflage.  Because LeeBeeBee is almost certainly a GrayCris plant, precisely what SecUnit and Mensah were worried about, and the crew absolutely did take her in despite the danger because they are good people.  And they would do the right thing, even if Murderbot objected.

It’s so nice to get to see exactly how DeltFall might have been infiltrated, which we didn’t get to see in the book.  And so many of her lines read differently when you think of her as a plant.  Did DeltFall call PresAux ‘the Amateurs,’ or was that GrayCris?  Did DeltFall actually have an indentured servant, or is that GrayCris?

I think that a lot of what she’s saying is truthful, or is just a slight twist on the truth.  I do think she’s likely indentured.  I do think she views others and herself as objects to be used and exploited and discarded.  She’s suffering under one of the cruelest practices in the Corporation Rim, but she’s still fully bought into the CR propaganda and mindset.  Rather than defecting and embracing freedom the way Gurathin likely did, she’s almost certainly looking at getting years shaved off her indenture by acting as an infiltrator and assassin

That’s so perfectly horrid.  She would rather still be indentured but get in better with her bosses than accept real freedom.  It’s a cowardice I think we can all see in our world, that she would take the safe misery and be willing to hurt others to do it, rather than take a major risk and step outside the system.

She’s also dialing up her inherent objectification of others to a level that makes her deliberately off-putting, so the PresAux crew want to look away from her rather than examining her too closely.  If they just want to sort of ignore her, then they’re not going to dig too far into her actions.  If she runs off to communicate back to GrayCris regarding a rogue SecUnit they’re not going to follow her, and are going to be glad to get a break from her.

Her distraction tactics work particularly well against Murderbot, who she makes wildly uncomfortable to the point it’s very glad to get away from her, and is likely deliberately trying not to think of her.  If you watch who she’s targeting with this barrage of unpleasantness, she does it first as a blanket with the crew to gauge reaction, then targets it at SecUnit once she realizes that it’s not being controlled by the combat override, and that it’s fully rogue.  There’s no easy way for her to control it (as I suspect she was controlling the DeltFall SecUnits), so she had to improvise, because as far as she’s concerned, this independent SecUnit is the #1 threat to her plan to kill the PresAux crew.  She must have been so relieved when it went with Mensah to trigger the beacon, because she knew the beacon was rigged to explode, and she had a good chance of getting rid of both the biggest threat and the team leader, and she didn’t even have to do anything!

Which, to her mind, only leaves the rest of the PresAux team to deal with.  After SecUnit, she almost certainly considers Gurathin the next biggest threat, because she would certainly underestimate the Preservationers, but he’s ex-corporate, so she would respect the threat he posed.  So after Mensah and SecUnit are gone, she zeroes in on Gurathin.

I think she almost certainly has a dossier or some other large amount of personal and professional information about him from his days in the CR.  What did she do when she first talked to him after Mensah and Murderbot were gone?  She offered him a stimulant.  I’m now convinced that his therapy modules were—in addition to being for generalized trauma (why did you learn to be quiet, Gurathin??)—meant to treat a stimulant addiction he struggled with after using them to work whatever insane hours he was required to work when he was in the CR. 

I think this next episode is going to be Gurathin-heavy.  The writers are setting up deliberate contrasts between the die-hard-to-a-horrific-level Corpo LeeBeeBee and Defector-with-Trauma ex-Corpo Gurathin.  I wonder if he won’t try to sort of reach out to her in the next episode (was he indentured too?), convince her to defect too, only to have her turn it all around on him and use his backstory against him.  If he was indentured, did he break contract to run to Preservation?  Is there a bounty on him?  Is there a bounty on his AUGMENTS, body not needed in return?

I sort of have an image of the next episode playing out like a horror film, where we realize that LeeBeeBee is the exact infiltrator that took out DeltFall, that GrayCris SecUnits are incoming, MB and Mensah may already be dead, and the person who was responsible for the DeltFall massacre is inside the hab right now.

Especially if we don’t know what happened to MB and Mensah for the majority of the episode, instead focusing on the rest of the group.  Without the snarky voiceover, the terror of the situation could really get hammered home.  Again, this is fully speculation of how it might play out next episode, but my guess is that the big cliffhanger next episode is going to be LeeBeeBee attacking Gurathin.  Previews have shown him with a bandage on his leg, and holding a cane, which some people have pointed out looks like a blind walking cane.  That makes me wonder if she manages to not only disable him with a shot to the leg, but damage visual augments he might have, rendering him partially blind.

I think we’ve also been getting a lot of background work with Gurathin being terrified of rejection and abandonment throughout this season.  He and MB parallel one another in not wanting to share Mensah, because they both are afraid the other will manage to take her from them (completely ignoring that Mensah has two fucking hands, and more than enough love in her to love her family, and both of these idiots too).  If LeeBeeBee really wants to twist the knife in him, she’s going to tell him that if the others are going to survive, they have to abandon him.

And Pin-Lee, Arada, Bharadwaj, and Ratthi are almost certainly going to refuse.  Much like Mensah refused to abandon MB when it was damaged, they’re going to refuse to leave their friend behind.  Because they can disagree with him, they can think he’s wrong about SecUnit, but they still love him and won’t leave him.

This sets up E7 to be the big turning point between the nadir of act 2 (MB and Mensah may be dead, Gurathin is injured, and the others are in direct danger because they won’t leave him behind), and the start of act 3 (MB and Mensah return and save everyone!  They can all come together, defeat GrayCris and escape alive!). 

And all of this gets facilitated because of the introduction of LeeBeeBee, who acts as a face for GrayCris (and likely a way to give us information about them) and for the whole vicious corporate people-as-objects theme that consumes the Corporation Rim.  It’s so much easier to loath GrayCris when we can see the sorts of people it creates, and she is such a great example of that.

[saeamy]

OWL (OUR SON)

itoshi rin x reader

summary ۫ ꣑ৎ you're waiting for rin to return from blue lock, but something is missing from his room content: fluff! probably ooc! rin wc: 997 a/n: this is a draft from like 2 years ago that i kinda tried fixing up as best i could lol. this was like my first time writing so i hope you enjoy ^^ also didn't know what to name this...

giving gifts to rin wasn’t just hard. it was a whole mission.

but for his last birthday, you felt like you really came through with his gift. you had spent hours making sure it was absolutely perfect, no flaws or miscounted rows. a crocheted owl plushie. rin’s birthday embroidered on the bottom of the foot, and you made an additional cute scarf and sun hat for the owl, with both yours and rin’s initials.

when you first gave it to him, he had just stared at it for a few seconds, before letting a small smile make its way to his face. and from then on, the owl was always lying somewhere in his room, whether it be on his desk or on his bed. 

you even noticed how rin would change the owl’s clothes depending on the weather and season, but you’d never tell him, he’d just roll his eyes and deny it. 

but now, you were sat on his bed, scrolling through your phone while you waited for rin to return from blue lock. your mum loved you, and let you in, treating you as if you were a daughter. it’s been around 3 months since you last saw rin properly, only communicating with him on texts and short calls when it was allowed. 

you had seen him play against the japan u20, and the way you had tried your best to comfort him after his face-off with sae. 

you glance at the time, and get up to stretch your legs a bit. he should be here soon. you couldn’t wait to see him properly, talk to him without any distractions. your eyes flit around the room as you pop your back, and you see something out of place. or rather, a lack of something.

everything was as it should be. his shelves full of trophies that he had earned, a picture of sae and him (yes, he put it back up) and a picture of you and rin from your second date. 

but the owl was missing. it wasn’t on the bed when you had sat down, or on his desk. neither was it on the shelves next to his trophies. you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but your heart clenched a bit. 

maybe he didn’t like it that much, and only kept it around to keep you happy. did he throw it away, was it too childish for him? but you swore rin’s eyes had lit up when you had first presented your little project, all bundled up in a basket alongside some other small gifts! 

but you didn’t have much time to think about it when you heard a familiar voice speaking to ms itoshi in the kitchen. 

footsteps padded towards you, and the door opens to reveal your boyfriend, standing with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“rin! you’re home!” 

you quickly move to wrap your hands around his neck, squeezing him tightly. rin’s hands fall around your waist, his head dropping onto your shoulder, his dark hair tickling your neck. “i’m back,” he mutters gently.

you both pull away, and he sets his bag down, but you promptly reach out to grab it. 

“i’ll unpack it real quick, so you won’t have to do it later!” 

rin just nods, completely forgetting what was in his bag. you start taking out his clothes while he flops down on the bed, thankful for the peace provided away from his teammates at blue lock. “rin?”

rin can already hear the grin in your voice, and he sits back up, raising a suspicious brow. “mhm?” 

he looks at you, and sees your wide smile. while unpacking, you found his owl, bundled between some of his clothes, and rin’s ears quickly flush pink as he realises what you’re getting at. “you took it with you?” 

rin groans, burying his face between his knees, but he hears the smugness and elation in the question you already knew the answer to. rin didn’t get rid of it after all, he had literally taken the owl you made him for the entirety of the 3 months he was at blue lock. 

“you missed me that much?” 

now you were stretching it. he rolls his eyes, trying to keep his cool demeanour up, despite failing miserably. the red flush from his ears was slowly making its way down to his neck. “don’t let it get to your head. i just needed…” 

needed what? something to remind him of you when you couldn’t talk? but he’d never admit that to you. not that rin needed to. you already knew, but you like to tease him and watch him get flustered. “whatever, he probably just accidentally landed in the bag while i was packing.” 

rin raises his head to look at you, and he groans when he notices your wide eyes. “what now?” 

you snicker, not bothering to hold any of your chuckles to yourself. “so he’s a he now? does he have a name too, rinnie? it would be shame to leave our son nameless now would it?”

rin was sure that if you were to touch anywhere on his body, you’d feel the way he burned like he was running a 39.5 degree fever. he just grabs your wrist and yanks you up from where you were kneeling next to his bag. 

“just shut up.” he grumbles like an angry kitten, and shifts your bodies so that you’re both laying down, his face buried in your back so you can’t see the expression on him. you can feel the warmth emanating from his flushed face and you just hum contently. “i’m really glad you liked your gift rin. it makes me really happy.” 

he clicks his tongue. “i’d like anything you give me, stupid.”

and your eyelids flutter closed, happy to be back in your boyfriend’s arms again, even if just temporarily, rin will always carry something from you with him, whatever it may be. 

© saeamy 2025 - do not repost, translate, copy or modify my works on any other platform!

[ooooo-mcyt]

It's actually so interesting to me how often fanon remembers Dogwarts as one consistent and extremely loyal and unified group, because having rewatched Third Life a few times lately, the reality is a lot messier and more complicated.

I mean, for starters, the unified Dogwarts faction was a very late addition to the series. Dogwarts existed in some form early on in the series, sure, but it was functionally an alternate naming of Renchanting, which was always just Ren and Martyn and their enchanting business. They had allies, but members of the "Eastern Alliance" weren't members of Dogwarts. The expansion and unification of Dogwarts (a functional rebranding of the faction) came after Ren turned red in session five(?) of eight, at which point Ren and Martyn began seeking allegiance from what were formerly more casual alliances of independent players and factions, and the actual solidification of who was part of the Red Army of Dogwarts took until basically session seven if I'm remembering correctly.

What I'm trying to get at by talking about the specifics of the forming of the Red Army is that, while it's easy in fanon to simplify the faction down to "It was Ren, Martyn, Etho, BigB, Skizz, and Impulse from the start (and then impulse betrayed them)", that's not reflective of the actual events of the season. And I think this concept crucially misrepresents things in two negative ways:

1.) Leaving out important alliances in Dogwarts history. Namely Team Crastle. They were, possibly, some of the oldest and most consistent allies of Renchanting from the beginning of the season, and were cut from the alliance remarkably late in the season. Cleo was, abruptly, cut out of the alliance by Ren because she burned down Joel's house, which Cleo only did after being attacked by Joel and Etho. An act which I think is important in characterizing both Ren (who at this point was so fixated on the unification of dogwarts under a single banner and rule that he'd cut out one of his oldest allies for the sake of joel, who joined them that episode and would betray them by the end of it) and Cleo. Furthermore, I think Ren's rejection of Team Crastle is vital context behind both Impulse and Tango removing themselves from Dogwarts (yes, they were both "playing both sides" as personal tactics, but i also very much believe some sense of personal loyalty led to their ultimate decisions to team with cleo and bdubs, and their rejections/betrayals of dogwarts, to me, rely heavily on the context of the alliance between renchanting and team crastle). Team Crastle isn't the only notable alliance that often gets left out either. As I mentioned earlier, Joel was briefly an official actual member of Dogwarts during the Red Army phase, and while this alliance was brief, I think it is important. Firstly because of how Joel's 'betrayal' fueled the paranoia and bloodthirsty nature of Dogwarts, and secondly because of how the whole situation characterizes Dogwarts at this point in how they used fear tactics to pressure Joel into swearing allegiance (and how he only publicly broke that allegiance later on, when surrounded by other enemies of dogwarts who were offering him support and encouragement). It's also worth noting the relationships between Dogwarts and Flower Husbands, because they were in relatively good standing, and their eventual status as enemies came not from real wrongdoing, but from Scott and Jimmy taking issue with the idea of being 'lesser' members of their alliance, wanting to be equal allies rather than swearing their allegiance.

2.) Making the final members of Dogwarts seem more solidly unified than they were. Yes, Ren, Martyn, Etho, Skizz, and BigB were the Red Army of Dogwarts, and they stuck together until the end of Dogwarts. Ostensibly. But things were..messier..than that. Because I firmly believe the group wasn't as solidly loyal as fanon would have you believe. Martyn, infamously, was allegedly planning to betray Ren once they got far enough into the game, he just didn't have the chance to do so. And while one might think it functionally doesn't matter to the Dogwarts alliance, since he never actually betrayed them, I'd argue that the way Martyn keeps one foot out the door and makes plans in the shadows can be felt very strongly in Ren's pov and actually massively contributed to Ren's mental downward spiral and paranoia. Etho I'd also argue was a big question mark. Sure, he refuses to go against Ren when Grian and Scar try to get him on side, but Etho was also largely unsympathetic toward Ren following the loss of Ren's first life, coming to Renchanting to ask for immediate enchanting and implying he was unsatisfied with their alliance when Ren and Martyn responded with frazzled hesitance. Etho all but stated to Ren that he was only in the alliance for what he can get from it in that moment. BigB and Skizz were both more loyal, but they were also on the outskirts a bit. BigB was a relatively late addition to the alliance, pulled in by his connection to Martyn (who as we established wasn't as loyal as people believe). Skizz was maybe the one stable, consistent, and undoubtedly loyal member of the alliance, though Ren was slow to accept him as such, suspecting Skizz of trying to take advantage of Dogwarts and skip out on bargains early in the season (which was fair to an extent because a lot of players were). It's also very important to note that Dogwarts didn't really fight together in the finale, which I'd argue is a massive reason for their downfall. Ren and Martyn largely stuck together, but Skizz was separated and killed early on, and Etho and BigB spent large chunks of time separated from Ren and Martyn not really doing much or feeling any urgent need to involve themselves in the fight when they don't have to (something that's commented on in etho's pov). Even at their most unified, Dogwarts wasn't necessarily the hyper loyal unified group Ren wanted them to be, or that they're often viewed at.

Sorry for how much I've been rambling, I just think Third Life is the most fascinating season from a political angle and Dogwarts is my Roman Empire in how complicated their history and alliances were, as well as in how different the way Ren presented his alliance optically is from how it actually was at any point. Because things weren't as clean or pretty at any point in Dogwarts history as one may believe.

[la-principessa-nuova]

kind of a rambly addition, but i don’t have time to edit it down or reorganize it atm:

especially that part about not really experiencing anything like what guys do growing up. like think about the concept of “male socialization” and what it’s used to imply, that we grew up getting all the same ideas and habits and things instilled in us that men do, that we are in some way now forever more like men than women in some way because we were held to the expectations that men were.

But even for those of us who didn’t transition until adulthood, those expectations affect us *very* differently than they did boys, and not all of the “socialization” we received was more like what they did. I learned the expectations for girls and for boys and I felt like I had to live up to both. Yes, I had some behaviors instilled in me that were expected of boys, like making fart jokes or whatever, but the disgusting views of women that some of my classmates learned, i never was even remotely comfortable with, because they always felt like they were about me. I know there were a few jokes i made at times that I made to fit in that felt bad to say, but no more than my cis sister (in fact much less).

For instance, my experience of being in a boy’s locker room was pretty much exactly how I would imagine most girls’ experience would be being in there, not just in hearing what they said and being horrified but also like the feelings of being in a room full of rowdy bows and having to undress and feeling scared (except not fully realizing why). And as a fat trans girl, that even extended to knowing they’d start making comments about my boobs if i took my shirt off while anyone could see (i learned pretty quickly how to change my shirt without taking it off). And the comments they made were technically the same, so even though i knew they were teasing logically, i couldn’t help *feeling* the things i would feel if they weren’t teasing (the same way i couldn’t help but feel worried that certain male acquaintances — like people I was friendly with but didn’t know enough to fully trust — I was alone with would try to make a move on me even though it made no sense bc they were straight).

And I think there’s this assumption that on some level being held to male standards made me do male behaviors and the positive reinforcement for it caused me to internalize some of this and become more like that, and like maybe there are some very minor, surface-level ways that happened, like leading me to explore my interest in video games but not learning anything about makeup until I started transitioning, and like I learned some skills that I was expected to have, but only really where my innate interests overlapped with things that are acceptable for boys. Honestly all the examples I can think of are things I have in common with my cis sister, lol.

But for the deeper things, there was a balancing force of dysphoria that not only canceled it out but pushed me *far* away from those things. Because being told to do something that I like might get me to explore it more, but being told to do something that makes me feel bad (in an at-the-time-inexplicable way) makes me specifically hate that and want to avoid it at all costs. The times I tried to conform are the darkest moments of my life that made me hate myself and feel like I would never be able to progress in life socially or romantically.

Basically in my experience, all the things in my life that could be called “male socialization” were just things where I wasn’t held to one of the misogynist standards (e.g. one I didn’t internalize and apply to myself) and so I gravitated more towards that direction, and all the things that TERFs primarily mean when they say “male socialization” are things where I experienced something between the “female socialization” version and psychological torture.

So yeah, I play video games and use power tools and I don’t always cross my legs, but I still grew up tormented by misogyny and fearing being left alone with men. I still felt pressure to conform to what the other girls in my classes were doing and was always surprised when i met my friends’ sisters and kinda wished i was friends with them instead.

My “socialization” didn’t lead me to be in some way inherently masculine, it lead me to apply Occam’s Razor and realize that so many things that had never made sense actually made perfect sense if I was a woman.

Plus, it’s based around the philosophical idea of “Tabula Rasa” (Latin for “blank slate”), that the human mind is a blank slate and everything about who we are is determined through experience in life, known as socialization. If this theory were correct, it would mean that people are a product of their socialization and two people subjected to the same situation would behave the same way. But it’s not true, and evidence-based psychology does not support it at all. Obviously we are all the effect of some combination of our biology and our upbringing.

cc @psychicbirdstarlight (since i reblogged down the chain)

going to start using this for every dipshit post i see on here

[self-loving-vampire]

Something I already knew years ago but which multiple recent arguments illustrate neatly is that people have extremely inconsistent and frankly thoughtless standards for what constitutes systemic issues vs what is simply isolated interpersonal nastiness.

For example, there's this whole thing where sufficiently visible trans women on the internet are often accused of being dangerous child molesters by randos for essentially no reason. This is a real thing, and I have even seen it happen over something as minor as having an anime avatar at all. It's correctly identified as a type of transmisogyny.

But then those same people will see discussions about cishet men experiencing all kinds of physical violence for being too "feminine" and etc. and say that doesn't count. That's not a systemic issue. That's not transmisogyny the way your rancid discord server pedojacketing you is.

Or now an even more visible example. An anon brings up "teachers may think girls are stupid" while trying to describe male privilege, which doesn't even seem to match the stats we have on academic performance but whatever.

Then after responding on the same level (and also bringing larger issues such as biases in the justice system) what is presumably a different anon argues that I am "misunderstanding" the idea of privilege by treating it as an interpersonal thing instead of a matter of systemic oppression.

But I am simply responding to the way people used the word previously, which is to describe a lot of their interpersonal issues in addition to systemic problems. Pretty much everyone who uses the word does that.

For example, one checklist on male privilege includes things like this:

(Yeah, a lot of these seem to treat abusive women like an abstraction that pretty much never materializes in real life.)

Why is "strangers in the bushes may rape you if you walk out at night" or "your friend group may turn on you over a callout post" treated like a systemic issue but stuff like "your family/neighbors/classmates/etc. may beat you up if you look gay" or "people at every level of society are more likely to see you as a threat" is not?

[theconstantsidekick]

Avengers: Age of Ultron ft. Static (5) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angsty as hell

Summary: Steve just found out his girlfriend, Y/n Stark, has powers that are powerful enough to swallow the world whole. The Maximoff girl poked the bear, Y/n snapped, and now it’s raining trauma, trust issues, and pink lightning.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, yet to be codenamed—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Violence, Some Actual Violence but not bloody

a/n: was i supposed to be working on the next part of thunderbolts*? yes. was i moved to write this simply because of an edit i saw? also yes. the heart wants what it wants, alright?

Avengers : Age of Ultron ft. Static (4) | Series Masterlist | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

“Cap!”

Steve hears someone calling for him, distant but insistent, cutting through the haze of music—his and Peggy’s song.

He doesn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Wake up!”

Not yet.

“Cap, wake up!”

The moment he opens his eyes, the world slams into him. His ears are ringing. His body feels heavy, sluggish. He squints against the dim, flickering light and flexes his jaw.

A figure hovers over him.

“Sorry,” Barton mutters. He almost sounds like he means it.

Steve brings a hand to his face, fingers brushing his jaw. The pain is dull, but Barton’s got a hell of a right hook.

With a groan, he pushes himself up.

“We gotta move, Cap,” Barton urges, offering a hand. Steve takes it, steadying himself as he stands. “The Hulk’s out.”

Steve exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders, pushing past the lingering fog in his mind. “Where’s Romanoff—?”

Barton cuts him off. “She’s down.” Before Steve can protest—not sure to what—Barton adds, “Tony’s already trying to contain the Hulk—”

“But—”

“We’ve got a bigger problem.” Barton’s voice is grim.

Steve’s stomach tightens. “Bigger than the Hulk?”

Barton hesitates. Opens his mouth. Closes it.

“Spit it out, Barton. While I’m still young.” There’s a joke in there somewhere. He doesn’t think this is the right time to point it out, though. 

And clearly neither does the man in front of him, because then Barton straightens. “Your girlfriend has superpowers none of us knew about.” His expression gives away absolutely nothing. “And whatever the Maximoff girl did—it set her off.”

Steve feels like he’s been hit. Not just punched—wrecked.

Y/n.

His Y/n.

And just like that, everything clicks into place. The moments of hesitation, the way she always seemed to almost tell him something before changing the subject. The way her eyes darkened when certain topics came up. The nights he caught her awake, lost in thought, as if she was carrying a weight too heavy to share.

He knew she was keeping something from him.

But he never thought it would be this.

Not powers. Not something so big.

A sharp pang hits his chest—betrayal, confusion, something deeper, something uglier.

Why didn’t she tell him? Did she think he wouldn’t understand? That he couldn’t handle it?

Or was it worse than that?

Did she choose not to tell him? Did she never plan to?

And then another thought creeps in, colder, heavier: Has anything between us been real?

Barton keeps talking, oblivious to the way Steve’s world is tilting beneath his feet. Or maybe all too aware of it…

“When I woke Thor up, I told Tony I was sending him to help with the Hulk,” Barton says. “Tony said—” He clears his throat, a nervous tic more than anything. “He said our best bet at handling the Y/n situation is our heaviest hitter.”

Steve forces himself to focus, even as his hands curl into fists at his sides.

“What are you saying?”

Finally some emotions bleed through, Barton’s face is tight with something close to guilt. “I’m saying Tony thinks if we don’t stop her now—and I’m quoting him here—she’ll swallow the world whole.”

Steve’s stomach turns. That can’t be right. This would mean that she doesn’t just have powers, no. They are so catastrophically strong that the God of Thunder might be the only solution.

And Tony doesn’t exaggerate when it comes to threats. If he said those words—swallow the world whole—then whatever’s happening, it’s bad.

Steve swallows hard, forcing the mess of emotions down, locking them away like he does everything else. He can’t afford to feel this right now. There’s no time for the pain gnawing at his ribs, the panic clawing at his throat.

If Y/n is out there, if she’s a threat, then he has to stop her.

Even if it kills him.

His grip tightens around his shield. “We have a location?”

“Fifteen clicks west.”

“Civilians?”

“None. It’s a forest.”

Steve nods and turns, already moving.

“Cap.” Barton’s voice stops him mid-step. He doesn’t turn, but he listens. “I think she made a conscious decision to head to the forest.”

Steve exhales. 

That means something. 

He doesn’t know what yet, but it means something.

Without another word, he presses forward.

He’s not entirely sure what he was expecting to see when he got there, but he knows it wasn’t this. He couldn’t have ever imagined this. 

The clearing hums with a strange, unnatural energy.

Steve slows, boots digging into the soft, torn-up earth. Trees sway like they're caught in a silent storm, the air thick with a pressure he can feel in his bones. Every step forward feels heavier.

And then he sees her.

Hovering above the ground, balanced on disks of pink light, the space beneath her feet warped and shivering. Above her, the sky itself has been torn open—a portal stretching wide, pulsing with static and colors not meant for human eyes. The sound it makes isn't quite thunder and isn't quite wind. It's deeper. Older.

And wrong.

Thor is already there, hammer in hand, charging the storm around her with lightning. He tries to push through, to reach her, but the energy shielding Y/n tosses him back like he’s nothing more than a leaf in a gale. Each time he rises again, a little slower.

Steve clenches his jaw.

She doesn’t move.

Doesn’t react.

Her head is tipped slightly back, her eyes a glowing, vacant pinkish-white, like she’s trapped in some nightmare she can’t wake from.

He should move.

He should call for backup, even if he isn’t sure what good that would do.

He should think like a soldier.

But he just stands there for a beat longer, looking up at her, feeling something crack open in his chest.

He'd seen her fight before—grit, quick reflexes, faster with her mouth than her fists most of the time.

But this—this wasn't fighting.

This was power. Raw, terrifying, uncontainable.

Tony’s words in Barton’s voice echo in his mind: Swallow the world whole.

He believes it now.

He believes it because he can feel it—the way the earth trembles under her, the way the sky itself recoils.

And even knowing all that... he can’t help but think she’s beautiful.

Not soft, not gentle.

Beautiful like a storm is beautiful. Like a wave big enough to drown whole cities.

The part of him that had seen a quiet future once—a dance in a hall with a woman in red lipstick and kind eyes—aches in the back of his mind.

A part of him still reaches for that simplicity, that life he left frozen in time. A part of him reaches for…

No.

No. No. 

There isn’t time for that right now.

Steve tightens his grip around the shield, forces himself to move, even as the storm claws at him.

“Y/n!” he shouts into the howling static.

For a moment—barely a flicker—her head turns.

He sees it.

He knows he sees it.

She's still in there. Somewhere.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

He sets his jaw and pushes forward, straight into the storm.

“Y/n!”

His voice tears through the static, cracking like thunder.

No answer.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. The disks of light beneath her feet pulse once—sharper, harsher—and the storm ripples outward, blowing him back a step.

“Y/N!” he roars, lungs straining, but her eyes remain fixed on something far away, something not of this world.

He stumbles forward, shielding his face from the wind that bites like shrapnel. The pressure is crushing. Like gravity itself is breaking.

Off in the distance, across the clearing—Thor rises.

Steve barely catches the blur of him lifting off the ground, a streak of light and fury as Mjolnir crackles with divine charge. He hurls it straight into the heart of the storm.

It strikes the shield around Y/n with a boom that splits the sky.

The energy buckles—just for a second—then rebounds violently, sending Thor hurtling through the air. He slams into the ground fifty feet away, carving a trench through the earth.

Steve instinctively moves, breaking into a run.

“Thor!”

The god of thunder groans, lifting himself slowly. Steam rises off his shoulders. His cape is torn.

Steve reaches him, helping him to his feet. “You alright?”

Thor nods, slow and shaken, brushing dirt from his armor. “I’ve fought in plenty of wars throughout the galaxy—” his gaze lifts toward the woman floating above the chaos, “—but I have never seen power like this.”

They both look up.

Y/n remains motionless in the eye of the storm. Unreachable. Unshaken. A figure of light and fury, crowned in something ancient and unrelenting.

Steve’s voice drops. “She’s in there.”

Thor says nothing. But his silence isn’t doubt—it’s fear.

“She’s in there,” Steve repeats, as much to convince himself as anyone else.

Bzzzt.

“You’re right, Cap,” Tony’s voice crackles through the comm. No jokes this time. Just a tight, clipped breath. “She is.”

Steve’s jaw tightens. “Stark, what the hell is going on?”

“Hell is the correct word,” Tony answers. “Listen, I’m a little busy keeping the Hulk from giving the skyline a face-lift, so I’m gonna make this quick.”

There’s static, then a breath that sounds like he’s somewhere dark, somewhere wrecked.

“She’s not in control,” Tony says. “Not even close. The teenage mutant emo witch scrambled her head like an egg, and whatever’s spilling out now? It’s not just power—it’s memory, fear, everything she’s spent her life locking up. It’s all coming loose.”

Steve glances up again at the storm above her, the portal yawning open like a second sky.

“She didn’t want this, Steve. Not like this.”

He says it fast. Like if he slows down, he won’t be able to keep talking.

“You’re the only one who might still get through to her.”

“It should be you,” Steve says. Quiet. Stubborn.

“I can’t,” Tony replies. Fast. Final. “Not now. Thor’s the only one strong enough to hold her off. And I’ve got front-row seats to the Hulk’s rampage—only thing standing between him and a civilian bloodbath is me and the suit.”

Another pause. Quieter now. Almost—almost vulnerable.

“She’ll listen to you.”

“You’re not looking at what I’m looking at,” Steve tells him, looking up at the sky.

“Damn it, Rogers! She’ll listen to you because it’s you!”

Well, shit.

When they first got together, Tony kind of hated the whole thing. It was never a secret that Tony kind of hated Steve, and by extension hated the fact that his sister didn’t. 

Steve got it. It was practically tradition—you’re supposed to hate the guy dating your sister. He respected that. Still does.

Over time, Tony mellowed into something resembling acceptance. Not thrilled, not supportive—but he’d tease Y/n, make gagging noises whenever he caught them being soft, throw barbed comments Steve’s way with just enough bite to be brotherly.

Steve never expected more than that.

He ever expected Tony to fully accept it—accept them.

But now it seems, he already had.

Tony’s voice drops to a near-whisper. “You gotta bring her back, Rogers. Before we lose her.”

Damn it.

He steals himself.

He clenches his fists and turns to Thor. “Can you contain the fallout? Make sure she doesn’t get closer to the city?”

“I can try,” Thor states, sounding fairly more sure than his words would signify.

He nods. “Alright, you go do that.”

“And what will you do?” Thor asks.

“Something I was desperately good at before we started dating.” Steve looks off to his left, up high. “I’m gonna try to get her to look at me.”

With tasks divided, both of them head off in the opposite direction. Thor flies up into the sky, meanwhile Steve begins climbing up to a cliff—the closest he can get to her.

All he can think of as he climbs is—

Why didn’t she tell me?

His fingers dig into the rock, half from effort, half from how damn loud the question is inside his head.

Was it him? Did he say something? Do something?

Did she think he couldn’t handle it?

No. No, he’d told her—he’d said she could talk to him. That he wanted her to. He meant it.

Unless she didn’t believe him.

Unless—she never really planned to tell him at all.

That thought hits harder than he expects. His foot slips for half a second, sending a scatter of pebbles down the cliff. He catches himself.

Maybe he should’ve pressed harder. Pushed past the dodges, the jokes, the way she’d always shift the topic when he got close. The way she’d laugh, look at him knowingly over a beer bottle, and say, “Don’t go digging, Rogers. You might not like what you find.”

He hauls himself up another ledge.

The insomnia. The nights she couldn’t sleep, staring at the ceiling like it was screaming at her. The way she flinched—just slightly—when anyone mentioned powers. Or Hydra. Or the word control.

Suddenly, and all at once, he remembers the look on her face—at the hospital after Fury’s assassination. Wide eyes. Ashen skin. Terror, sharp and visible, when someone said Winter Soldier.

He remembers the bridge. The ambush. The way she stood between Bucky and everyone else, not afraid—furious. Vengeful. Familiar.

The lawyer who somehow knew exactly what Hydra did to his best friend.

She always knew too much.

Before he did.

Before anyone did.

But he didn’t want to pry. He told himself people get to keep their secrets. That she'd tell him when she was ready.

He thought that was kindness.

Maybe it was just cowardice.

Because deep down, he knew. He knew. She was holding something back. And he let her.

He let her.

And now here they are.

The world split open like a wound and she’s at the center of it.

His lungs burn. The wind howls. His heart’s somewhere between furious and aching.

And yet—

And yet—

She’d offered. She’d asked him to move in with her. Her exact words—God, it was what Tony 

had guessed: “I happen to have a place. You should move in.” She sounded so timid—he’d never ever seen her timid before.

And he said no.

Because he didn’t want to impose.

Jesus Christ.

He makes it to the top of the ridge. Stands. Wind clawing at his suit. Shield strapped tight.

Up ahead, Y/n is still hovering in the storm. Surrounded by chaos. Held aloft by raw, terrifying light.

You didn’t trust her with your baggage either, he thinks.

You said you liked Brooklyn. You said you didn’t want to impose.

Maybe she heard that loud and clear.

He doesn’t know who he’s mad at. Himself. Her. The world. Ultron. Fate.

All of it.

None of it.

She’s not the Y/n he knows right now—but he’d know her anywhere.

And he has no goddamn idea what to say.

But he knows he has to say something.

“Doll,” he calls out—soft, shaky.

No response.

He steadies himself, plants his feet against the wind. “Doll!”

Her head twitches, barely a flicker of recognition.

And then—

“Steve?” Her voice is small. Timid. A child lost in a storm. Like she’s afraid of what she might find if she looks.

Steve's heart damn near breaks.

“Doll, you gotta stop this,” he pleads, stepping closer, even though the cliff edge ends and there’s nothing beneath him but air and chaos. “You—you gotta stop, please, baby. Please.”

“I—” She looks around suddenly, like she’s seeing everything for the first time. Or maybe nothing at all. “Steve—I—” Her eyes are wide, wild, wrong. Like she’s stuck between two realities, slipping in and out of something he can’t see. Her breath catches. “I… I can’t,” she finally chokes out.

“You can’t what, doll?” he asks gently, carefully, like she’s a spark about to go off.

“If I—if I stop—if I stop—they’ll find me,” she breathes. “I can’t let them take me again, Steve. I can’t go back!”

“Doll,” he says, firmer now. Grounding himself like she’s the only thing keeping him from flying apart. “Baby, listen to me—”

He steps toward her again. No ledge. No plan. Just her.

She’s hovering, suspended in light and terror and something ancient clawing at the seams of reality—but she’s an arm’s reach away, and if it’s her, you best believe he’s gonna try.

“Listen to me, alright?” he says. “No one’s taking you anywhere.”

“No!” she screams, and the sound fractures the air like a bomb going off.

Lightning arcs out from her fingers. The portal behind her pulses—uglier now, twitching like a raw nerve. The trees behind him shatter. Her body jerks like she’s trying to contain something inside and failing, miserably. “I won’t go back. I’m never going back!”

“Y/n…” he says again—quieter, like he’s scared his voice might break her more.

And just like that—her rage collapses.

It folds in on itself and slips into something horrifyingly fragile.

Tears spring to her eyes, and when she speaks again, her voice doesn’t belong to a god.

It belongs to a girl.

“You don’t understand, Steve,” she whispers. “I can’t go back. I won’t—I barely made it out the last time. And if they find me again—if I go back—I don’t think I’ll survive this time.”

Her hands are shaking.

Not glowing.

Not clenched into fists.

Just shaking.

She’s trying to shrink herself smaller. As if that might save her from whatever her mind is showing her.

And Steve—Steve has never seen her afraid before.

Never.

She’s been furious. Ruthless. Sarcastic, reckless, impossible.

But never scared.

Not even when they were surrounded by aliens on the streets of New York. Not even when they were on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. which was secretly infiltrated by Hydra. Not even when he asked her once, stupidly, if she was okay and she shot back, “Do I look like I need saving, Cap?”

But this—

This is fear.

Raw. Childlike. Crippling.

And it wrecks him.

He still doesn’t know what she’s seeing. What the hell Wanda’s spell has done to her mind. Who she thinks is coming for her.

But he knows this.

He knows how to hold the line.

And he knows what it means to stay when someone’s falling apart.

“Hey,” he says, voice shaking. “Y/n, look at me.” She does. Barely. “I need you to hear me, alright doll?” The wind hisses low around them, a breath held by the world. “As long as I’m here—no one’s gonna touch you. No one’s gonna find you. No one’s ever gonna hurt you again.” She shudders. Her lip trembles. “I swear to you,” he continues, “on my life—on the shield, on Brooklyn, on everything I’ve got left—I will keep you safe.”

Y/n shakes her head slowly, tears streaking down her cheeks, catching faint glints of light from the storm above.

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You can’t promise that. You can’t protect me—not from them. I—” Her voice breaks. “No one can.”

The wind picks up again, as if her fear fuels it.

And Steve, God help him, just smiles.

Soft. Steady. Like he’s been handed a suicide mission and decided it sounds like a good afternoon.

“Come on, doll,” he says gently. “When have you known me to turn down a challenge?”

She stares at him.

Still afraid. Still not fully here. Like she’s standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure if what’s waiting below is safety—or another trap.

But for the first time since this nightmare began—

She’s looking at him.

And in her eyes, something wavers. Something flickers.

Not power.

Not rage.

Recognition.

Steve takes a step closer—slow, deliberate, like approaching a wounded animal, or something holy. He lifts his hand—not reaching, not yet. Just holding it out.

“Come on, doll,” he says softly. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Her lower lip trembles. Her eyes fill all over again.

But she nods.

Small. Barely there. But real.

Steve breathes. Not relief—not yet. Just enough to keep going.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says, voice quiet, fierce, and impossibly tender. “I promise, baby.”

The portal groans above them like the sky itself is exhaling.

Y/n floats, barely stable now—like her body’s starting to remember gravity. Like the nightmare is splintering at the edges. She looks down at him, eyes shimmering with a pain so old, it feels fossilized.

“Why are you even here?” she whispers. Not accusing. Just… tired. Broken. Small. “Why are you still here?”

And that’s it.

That’s the question.

The answer he’s been holding in his chest since before the tower, before Sokovia, maybe even before he knew he’d fallen for her at all.

Steve steps closer, hand still outstretched. His shield long forgotten at his back. Just a man now. A man in love.

“Because I love you,” he says.

No hesitation. No heroics. No shield between them.

“I love you, Y/n. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ll always be here.”

Her breath catches. A choked, fragile sound.

And he says it again—like a vow, like a lifeline, like it’s all that’s keeping the sky from falling: “You’re safe with me.” He extends his hand, palm up, steady in the howling wind. “I promise.”

Y/n looks at it.

Then at him.

Slowly—instantly—the power radiating off of her begins to fade.

The shield of pink static peels back, dissolving like fog at sunrise. The air clears. The storm silences. Even the sky seems to be holding its breath.

Her eyes meet his.

She reaches.

So does he.

Fingertips outstretched.

Inches away.

“Barton? You have the shot?” Tony’s voice crackles over the comms.

Steve’s body goes cold. “What?”

“I do,” Barton answers, steady as steel.

Y/n flinches mid-air, still reaching.

“Take it,” Tony orders.

“No!” Steve bellows—but he’s too late.

The arrow hits with a dull, sickening thunk, embedding itself in her neck.

She gasps.

Her hand jerks mid-motion—never quite reaching his.

Her face contorts in pure disbelief. Then heartbreak.

“You… promised…” she whispers, not even trying to hide how shattered she is.

The pink disks beneath her feet sputter out.

And then—

She falls.

“Y/n!!” Steve’s shout is raw, broken. He dives without hesitation.

He catches her in midair, arms wrapping around her as they plummet. His shield snaps beneath them just in time—he twists their bodies so she lands on him, not the earth. The impact roars like thunder.

They hit the ground. Hard.

Dust and wind rise around them in a choking spiral of silence.

She’s not moving.

He’s still holding her.

That’s the last thing he remembers until he jolts awake in the Quinjet.

“Run and hide?” Tony’s voice filters in through the haze.

“Until we find Ultron, I don't have a lot else to offer,” Maria Hill replies over the comm.

“Yeah. Neither do we,” Tony mutters, and ends the call.

Steve blinks hard. Then the memory slams back into him.

“Y/n!” He sits up fast—too fast. Pain screams across his back and ribs, but he doesn’t care. “Y/n? Doll?”

“She’s fine, Cap. Jesus,” Tony snaps from behind the cockpit, where Barton is flying the jet. “Calm the hell down before you open up something you just broke.”

Steve’s already scanning the jet.

Banner’s a few feet away on the floor, pale and shaking, wrapped in a thermal blanket. Natasha sits close beside him, silent but watchful. Thor stands off to the side, arms crossed tight over his chest. His armor is streaked with dirt, one knuckle bleeding. He doesn’t speak.

But he’s watching something.

Someone.

There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze—concern etched into the hard lines of his face. Worry he’s not bothering to hide.

Steve follows his line of sight.

And that’s when he sees her.

Y/n.

Lying still in the makeshift med bay at the rear of the jet. She’s got an IV in one arm, a sensor clipped to her finger, and a faint red mark blooming near her neck where the tranq hit. Someone’s tucked a blanket around her legs. Natasha, if he were made to guess.

She looks… small.

It’s in such high contrast to the force of nature he’s used to, such a far sigh off from the woman radiating power that had Thor shaken, and for a second, Steve forgets how to breathe.

He is on his feet in a heartbeat. “Calm—Are you fucking kidding me!?” he explodes, rounding on Tony. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking we needed to contain her,” Tony shoots back, voice clipped and sharp. He doesn’t even turn around—just stays seated, facing forward.

“I had it under control!” Steve insists. “She was listening. She was coming down.”

Tony finally turns, slow and deliberate. The smirk on his face is hollow and sharp. “And what if she changed her mind? What if the next surge brought that forest down? You have absolutely no clue the kind of blast radius she’s capable of encompassing.”

That shouldn’t upset him, but Steve’s hurt all the same. “You said I was the only one who could help her!”

“And you did!” Tony claps once, mocking, bitter. “Mission accomplished, Cap. What do you want—a medal?”

“What I want,” Steve is fucking enraged, “is an explanation as to why you didn’t fucking tell me about your goddamn contingency plan of shooting at my girlfriend?”

“Your gir—” Tony’s enraged too now. Steve can see it. He knows they aren’t related to each other by blood but in this moment their resemblance is uncanny. “It was a fucking tranquiliser, Rogers. I didn’t tell Barton to put a bullet in her head.” Steve’s blood runs cold. He thinks he might just have to fight her girlfriend’s brother. But then Tony adds, “Which is what she would have wanted.”

Motherfucker.

“How can you say that—?”

“He can say that, because he knows me,” comes a frail voice from the corner of the quinjet. His eyes turn to Y/n instantly. He rushes over before he can even register her words. But then she turns to Tony and continues, “And it’s what he should have done.”

“Fuck off,” Tony dismisses, strong and forceful.

“That was the contingency plan we agreed on,” Y/n accuses with what Steve presumes is all the venom she can muster in her weakened state.

“I didn’t agree to jack shit! It was your contingency plan, not mine! And it was fucking stupid contingency plan!” Tony bites back, matching her beat to beat.

“Tony, you know it’s the safest way out! I could have—”

He cuts her off, finally pissed enough to get to his feet. He stares her down, “You could have burnt the whole world to the ground, Y/f/n and I still would not take the goddamn shot. I am not going to put you down like a rabid dog, ever.” 

And that’s when Steve sees it—he sees Tony break. He’s loud, he’s practically yelling. But his eyes… Tony’s eyes reflect the same emotion hers did when they were out on that field—it’s fear. Crippling, debilitating, paralysing fear.

This wasn’t Tony choosing strategy. It wasn’t control. It wasn’t ego.

It was the only thing he could do to keep her alive.

Even if it broke every bone in his body to make the call.

If nothing else, Steve gets at least this much.

Apparently, so does she it seems. Because she sighs then. Her stance changes, so noticeably, so drastically that it throws Steve off. 

“Alright,” she says easily, still feeble. “Alright.” She nods at him, just once. An unspoken invitation. But Tony hears it loud and clear. He walks over to her slowly. She pulls him into a hug—protective, firm. She wraps her arms around him like she’s anchoring him in place. Tony hesitates. His hand hovers behind her back like he’s still not sure this is real—like he might crush her if he holds on too tight.

She ruffles his hair gently.

That’s all it takes.

He holds on like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

“You did good, Tones,” she says to him softly, kissing him on the temple. “You did good,” she reassures him. “It’s over now. Okay? It’s over now, peanut.”

And then her eyes lift, meeting Steve’s over Tony’s shoulder.

No words.

But everything’s said anyway.

That nothing will ever be the same between them again.

Find the Static Verse Masterlist here. Read The Avengers (ft. Static) here.

[ximarii]

There IS a Horny epidemic within the hermitcraft fandom

See this tweet for the context of the Bdubs lecture: https://x.com/ethoposting/status/1930359663113187593

⚠️Disclaimer⚠️: I don't say any of this out of disgust or annoyance for fandom activities. If anything, I'm speaking from a very subjective standpoint with behaviors I've noticed to provide an additional take on Bdubs' concerns.

Stay with me chat: I think Bdubs is right about the immense increase of horniness within the hermitcraft fandom, and somethings are taken so far out of context when nothing inherently sexual was said, but it is perceived to be that way by the masses. Someone tweeted in the replies that there may be a linkage between that and the popularity of "out of context" reactions, which I think is an interesting thinking point, but STAY WITH ME NOW, I think fan fiction low-key has a role as well.

In its essence, fanfiction is not bad by any means, BUT the introduction of shipping often causes out-of-character moments in favor of courtship. Now, how does this impact a person's sexual awareness level? My theory is that fans are now applying fictional dialogue onto the people hermits characterize themselves to be and thus, seek out those sus moments. Now I'm not claiming this to be a conscious/malicious effort by everyone, the true heavy hitter really is the audience's desperate need for silly clips to farm on social media. This is what fuels a fandom afterall, how do you get someone interested in your fav, if you have nothing to represent who they are?

Additionally, Hermitcraft has been many younger audiences' first fandom, and from my own observations within past fandoms, teens tend to absorb the personalities of the creators they enjoy. With that in mind, I want to bring up the introduction of Skizz into the broader hermit audience. Before hermitcraft, Skizz was for Impulse enjoyer -> life series enjoyers -> G.I.G.G.S enjoys -> hermitcraft enjoyers. So when Skizz became a common face, he shook up a lot of dynamics within the members of the server, and as we all know, while Skizz is an entertaining guy, his presence often blurs the boundary of what is considered PG. Quickest example: In today's stream, while discussing haboobs, Skizz couldn't help but motorboat. While subjectivily, it got a good laugh out of me, it still represents how "horny" the joke was. Circling back on my point of teens "taking on" the personality of their favs, I find there to be intersectionality between Skizz fans, Scar fans, and an uptick in innuendos.

Teens are old enough to get the jokes, but young enough to overdo them. Sexual jokes are taboo for minors to make. Thus, they rebel, and some see everything through that lens. We KNOW hermits are old enough to be making these jokes, so I think minors may just expect their (hermits) minds to be just as brainrotted as theirs (viewers), and expect it out of hermits 24/7. Like Bdubs said, this might just be a maturity thing, its like "Big Mouth" style of humor.

Im just yapping on my perspective though, I would love to hear more peoples opinions on it! Also want to reiterate, in case it wasn't clear enough, I don't have any gripes against the people who do it. /lh /pos

[forsaken-headcanons]

very long yap about my builderman hcs

(my interest with Roblox in general leaks into my Forsaken hcs so here is a link to a very old blog post so that you have context for the whole Lua thing: https://blog.haydz6.com/2007/02/encyclopedia-robloxica | Luatongue is a hc name I have for it but it basically means the same thing dw about it)

also, "^" means that a hc is related to the one(s) above it in some way

okay that's out of the way! come on everypony let's get started!!! /silly

------

-Has a southern accent. It's not thick but it is noticeable. 

-Decently muscular.

-His physical body looks like a middle-aged dude, but Builder has existed for an insane amount of time. The Admins are not gods, but they aren't regular mortals either. 

-Was the first Admin. He actually created the admins as a group, along with Roblox HQ to keep some semblance of peace in Robloxia. Before the admins, Robloxia was an incredibly chaotic and dangerous place, with hackers, exploiters, mythical creatures, aliens, demons, angels, deities, gods, and a million other things running around doing whatever they wanted. The admins and Roblox HQ are like the SCP foundation but to a lesser extent. They don't go out of their way to deal with the supernatural, as they also function as the law/government, but they do try to keep the insane reality breaking dudes away from the general populace. 

-Builderman is really, REALLY good at Luatongue. This in addition to his creative thinking made him extremely powerful pre-Forsakening. He may have looked like a normal Robloxian, but he was an admin mainly because he was born with what was essentially divine knowledge that translated to god-like powers. However, when The Spectre took him to its realm, it made him forget nearly all of the Lua he knew, causing him to lose a nearly all of his power. 

-^Despite his extreme natural proficiency with Lua, Builderman is not the prophet, as he isn't able to effectively share what it means with others. Lua is less of a "language" and more of a way that the beings within Robloxia can manipulate the very fabric of Robloxia itself. For anyone who isn't the prophet, telling someone who doesn't have a natural connection to Luatongue how to use it is nearly impossible. It's not even known how the prophet is supposed to share Lua with Robloxia, only that they will have some special ability to do so. 

-^Has notes that he works on periodically of what he can remember about Luatongue. Usually, "working" on these notes entails him sitting somewhere racking his brain for any scraps of it he can remember, jotting it down, and then pondering over the notes to try and gain back more memories of it. 

-^Builderman's knowledge of Lua was among one of the few things that The Spectre couldn't directly prevent the forsaken robloxians from using. The Spectre may be an extremely powerful entity, but it is, by a long shot, not powerful enough to override the code that is the very foundation of the universe. It had actually written off getting a hold of Builderman completely before it got the idea to make him forget Luatongue, and even that was extremely difficult for it, especially since he fought back against being taken by The Spectre, which it wasn't used to it's victims being strong enough to do so. The only reason it managed to pull it off was because Builderman was so focused on his fight with The Spectre and simultaneously resisting it's attempts to transport him to it's realm, that he didn't realize that Spectre was altering his mind as well until it was too late.

-Builderman cannot directly destroy things with Lua; he is only able to create. It's easy for him to work around this because he can just. create something destructive. But Builderman can't straight up use Luatongue to destroy. 

-When he was younger, he created a "focus" item of sorts. It was a trowel, and while it looked normal, it had a certain energy to it. Builderman created the trowel because while he had an unheard of ability to use Lua, he didn't have fine control over his powers. Without the trowel, he can make a wall. With his trowel, he can make a castle-sized wall, or a wall fit for a dollhouse, or even a regular wall the size of what would be in a house, of any color imaginable, and made out of whatever he'd like. 

-^ a secondary thing the trowel does: anyone holding it will be able to walk in the air at will. When he made the trowel, Builderman gave it this property so that he'd be able to get better views on whatever it was he was making at the moment. After he started taking on the role of the regulator of Robloxia, it turned out that being able to basically fly was really useful. 

-^sometimes when he was younger and just messing around, he'd stand like. Fully horizontally in the air just for the laughs. #1 at the lying down game /j 

-^obviously, he doesn't have his trowel with him in The Spectre's realm. Builderman had a deep emotional attachment to it, and misses it sometimes. 

-Even without the use of his weird god-language-powers, Builderman is really good with tech and engineering-type stuff. 

-He naturally has the general vibe of a leader, and this combined with his role pre-Forsakening means that the survivors will nearly always listen to him and do what he says. The other admins also have some authority, but he's got the most. 

BUILDERMAN HEADCANONS WOOHOOOO!!!! he 100% has a slight southern accent. He feels like the type of guy to have one.

[soclearlytosee]

a primary early s5 threat is likely a s1-style lone Demogorgon hunting kids...

...and that Demogorgon is probably being directed by Vecna.

at this point others have definitely also come to this conclusion, but I just wanted to lay this out somewhere more clearly/concisely.

first, the evidence from leaks/BTS/footage:

an early s5 filming rumor was that Frank Darabont directed a Home Alone-style sequence with a Demogorgon, which came from the same source as a bunch of other things that have been proven true. plus we clearly have a big sequence in a mansion in a Darabont-directed episode (5.03, The Turnbow Trap) reminiscent of the iconic house in that movie.

the lights are flickering in quite a few scenes that we've seen footage of from eps 1-4, and specifically the ones the feature the child characters (Holly's room and the upstairs bathroom at the Wheeler House in ep 1, at the Turnbow mansion in ep 3, and now at the farm in ep 4)

the strangerwriters twitter account saying "Season 5 is like if season 1 and 4 had a baby. And then that baby was injected with steroids."

the rhythmic banging from the date announcement voice memo/teaser feels like a fairly straightforward callback to the s1 Demogorgon's recurring ominous offscreen footsteps (that then escalates, s1 on steroids etc).

There's obviously something going on with Holly and her classmates, and a not quite yet parseable feedback loop between Vecna and the military's interest in them (considering the pap photos of Henry, Holly, and the other kids in the Creel House Mindscape, and the kids at the military base which we've now seen in the teaser footage)

but more importantly, what would that do for us, character- and plot-wise?

Bring up big feelings for our characters who experienced Will and Barb's disappearances in s1

especially since, according to the season logline, a certain anniversary is coming up...

Tee up a reveal about what it looks like when Vecna is directing a Demogorgon remotely

according to the season logline, Vecna is currently laying low: "[Vecna] has vanished — his whereabouts and plans unknown." similarly, it's pretty clear he's been part of the picture this whole time but if that's the case he had to have been acting from a significant remove in s1 too.

while we are also revisiting Will's time in the Upside Down in 1983 in flashback form, showing us a version of Vecna's s1 strategy in the present would be an additional opportunity to surface some answers after years of the "Was Will taken intentionally or just a bystander? Did Will see Vecna or the Demogorgon on Mirkwood?" discourse.

Serve as a device to travel into the Upside Down

if they bring back the s1 Demogorgon's ability to create smaller, temporary gates, our cast should be more prepared to take advantage of that opportunity to travel to/from the Upside Down this time around. (though the time limit on the lil Demogorgon gates makes that risky...and might lead to something like perhaps a certain character whose early season activities are still a big question mark being stuck in the same clothes for three-quarters of the season)

please don't ask me to square that with Vecna's s3/s4 needing to steal El's powers in order to open his own gates via elaborate teen murder ritual I'm not a writer on this show. let's say it's probably a question of magnitude/temporality for now

so yes, I have come around to feeling like this is probably one of the big drivers of the early s5 plot (after really walking the long way around to get here even though in retrospect like anything it seems like the most obvious choice for them to make, and I think a smart one). other supernatural forces should also be at work - I'm at least feeling some mysterious medical stuff going around, and maybe disappearances via an additional mechanic. plus the Demogorgon situation would start more at a 1.03/1.04 level and escalate quickly, building to a new monster/s reveal around the end of 5.04 with whatever is knocking at the downtown military base's door in the teaser.

and still more to suss out on Vecna's motivations here, what's going on with his Creel House Mindscape set up with the kids (maybe playing both sides by siccing a scary monster on them and then getting to swoop in as a benevolent helper?), how the military's interest in the kids factors in, and then Max's role in all this.

[anyacad0]

sometimes i think Danheng has a subconscious habit of overcompensating or taking up more work in the AE just to pacify the negative voice in him that tells him he is a nobody that doesn’t belong

it’s mainly the way he insists on being the AE guard as a reciprocative reason to continue staying with them and how he jumps into action while asserting himself as a Nameless

i think he constantly carries a sentiment of having to “earn” acceptance by proving his value, and if he doesn’t live up to his value, he may be discarded or seen as a burden. which increases his obligation to repay others’ kindness

except there is no such cost-benefit exchange in the AE bc AE fam sees him as one of their own. objectively Danheng seems to be doing better in recent developments but i just wonder how much his mind bothers him anyway, especially after missing out Penacony bc he was resting up after the Xianzhou drama (“i took medical leave. oh no i am going to miss work and they’re going to see me as a burden” kinda thoughts)

(sorry if i mischaracterised anywhere aaa)

I think a lot about how Himeko told him they needed a guard and archivist because she knew he wouldn’t stay unless he felt useful. She could tell even when she’s only just met him. It’s almost certainly an instinct from his past where he wasn’t supposed to want or have anything for himself; his entire existence was dedicated to protecting and serving others.

there is definitely also an aspect of needing to feel worthy in addition to that instinct though. Even if Dan Heng does feel well and truly accepted by the Express Crew (though I doubt he does even now, it will probably take a little longer) I think he’ll continue to do as much as he can for them simply to prove that he cares.

[mrcaffeinatedisopod]

@foxtrixcore asked for a Donatello who got some kind of facial disfiguration after some fight and made himself a mask to wear, and what that mask design might look like

So here's my idea of what a partial mask cover Donnie would wear, I took some inspiration from mutant apocalypse Donnie

And bonus art

My poor baby :(

Additional thoughts:

I really like drawing/writing about Donnie getting really hurt physically. While I believe all of the 2012 turtles and Splinter know basic first aid — and Splinter for some reason knows healing magic ( or "mantras" )— I still believe that Donatello is the only one who has extensive medical knowledge and can perform surgery and treat their mutant physiology, soooo it just really scratches my brain to imagine what might happen to Donnie if he got too hurt to treat himself, since his brothers surely wouldn't be able to treat him themselves.

That also makes me think about Mutant Apocalypse Donbot in the series, is the only reason why his mind was transferred to Metalhead 2 because Raph wasn't able to treat him after his amnesia? Donbot says his original body was destroyed, which could either mean Donatello immediately died after the mutant bomb explosion, or he held on for a little longer.

While if Donnie did die immediately after the bomb there was nothing anybody could do, what if there was something that could be done? Let's say, a possible cracked shell?

Cracked shells can be lethal, but they are not always a death sentence to a turtle depending on the severity, but if they aren't treated, a turtle will bleed out or die of infection. That's to say what if after the explosion, Donnie was severely injured but could have been treated, but Raph was in almost as bad shape, and couldn't treat his brother, which is what led to Donnie's death? The angst is just so good

While Donbot doesn't seem to have any issues with the fact that the original Donatello is dead does he ever wonder what could have been if the original Donatello was treated?

Did he even try to treat the original Donatello? He seems to imply that he was already cybernetically linked when Donatello died, rather than consciously uploading his consciousness because he knew he would die, so is it fair to assume that maybe he tried to save himself— sort of like in the comics— but there was nothing that could be done? And if that wasn't possible, would he ever resent Raph? Maybe not forever, but right away? I mean imagine being the only decent doctor in your family, you save their shells for years, but when you really need it, and not a dislocated shoulder, or a sprained wrist, but really need medical help, there's no one there for you?

Anyway I loved this idea :)