#again..... we are only speaking about the agency of the women in question

[weatherman667]

Thirteenth Section

After chatting with @decreare I realized that Gandalf fulfills the same role in the story as Manic Pixie Dreamgirls.

And so, the question is, what role does the character have in your story?

And if they don't have a role, why are they in your story?

Individual characters can fulfill multiple roles, and it's important to do this, to keep them interesting when not focusing on their role.

Let's Nora Valkyrie. She has two primary roles in RWBY:

Jaune's Minion

Comic Relief

Yes, she's an absolutely wonderful character, but her role is as comic relief.

If you took Nora out of the context of being Jaune's sidekick, she would just be causing wanton destruction. And this is one of the things CRWBY failed when they wanted to give her a TragicBackstoryTM.

They wanted to turn her into a heroine with her own agency, because girl power, and...

They honestly seemed to forget that RWBY are the eponymous heroes. The show is literally named after them. They each had their own trailer showing them being uniquely heroic.

But why can't Nora be her own hero?!

Because she's a B-lister from a B-team.

But what if Nora wants to be the hero?!

She doesn't. She's a loveable orphan that found a family.

But, it's not like she got a daddy warbucks to adopt her?

No, but Nora grew up fighting the grim(m) creatures from your darkest nightmares, and likes hitting things with her hammer. Giving her a Little Orphan Annie ending is like keeping your cat locked in your apartment, and wondering why he keeps scratching the doors to get out. Even worse if you give that cat a two-handed maul.

Could Nora be an independent hero? Yes. Would she be happier that way? No. So, by making her an independent hero, all you are doing is torturing her for your own vanity.

RWBY (show) is explicitly designed as a Points of Light in the Darkness setting. The four kingdoms, the huntsmen academies, huntsmen in general, and the main characters in specific are the points of light in the setting. If those lights are snuffed out, you get Dark Souls.

This is getting into the Theme, of the story which is a different, but related, point.

One of the reasons I hated the introduction of Saphron and Terra into the setting is not because I hate them. They are actually wonderful characters. No the reason their introduction was idiotic is that the role they serve in the story is that of a hotel.

They current year it. Like Veilguard. They tip toe around on eggshells afraid of pissing off the woke crowd by having the insensitive dolt (Nora), ask where the lesbian baby came from.

We don't delve down into Jaune's history and upbringing. We don't pick up the trope of found family that RWBY is leaning so heavily on, that when they stop, the City of Atlas literally falls to the ground.

CRWBY decided to break up the found family, after crawling through broken glass to get RWBY back together again, and they do it for the sole point of short-term drama. Because fighting a morally ambiguous unkillable witch is apparently not enough drama for them. After we are literally told that the way to defeat Salem is through kindness.

Anyways, having Saphron and Terra there would be the perfect time to talk about Jaune's relationship with his family, and then lean into found family.

Let's say you are creating a party, and you want to add a demolitions expert. We're going to assume for the sake of assuming that you need a demolitions expert.

Why did he join?

What does he do when he's not blowing things up?

Is he comic relief? Is he a womanizer? Is he the strong, silent type that only talks when he absolutely needs to, and so the audience will know that when he finally speaks, it's important?

Let's say he's a womanizer. Does he hit on women he knows? Does he hit on party members? Their relatives? Does he hit on every woman he sees? Does he have a type that he will drop anything to hit on?

If he hits on party members, and she doesn't like it, it creates intra-party conflict, which is one way to make even the most banal moments interesting. Just like any RPG has Dwarf on Elf racism.

If he has a type, all you have to do is introduce his type, have them disappear, and the next day have him show up with that clue they were looking for.

But a character's role can also be more banal. In the Prime of His Youth, he surrounds himself with powerful, dynamic characters.

And Sirenia. She's basically a shy tumblr user trying to survive in the real world. She does not add any advantages. Her presence is still necessary, as having to care for her is what brought Jack out of his isolation and interact with the world(s).

You'll see this with any show that adds a little sister character. Okay, the world is ending, and you have the exact right set of high schoolers needed to save it. And the protagonist's kid sister. Having the kid sister means that every - single - thing the protagonist has to do has to resolve in way for him to care for her. Martyrdom is not going to suffice.

Hell, a great example is Bioshock: Infinite. There is a melee kill, but it's so brutal that Elizabeth is horrified of it. Most gamers stop using it to the point they forget about it. Yes, she's an all-powerful reality warper, but her role in the story is making someone who managed to get disgraced out of the PINKTERTONS a better person.

Or in Deadpool & Wolverine, where Professor X is such a great character that he stops Wolverine from killing, just by being disappointed.

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[bulbabutt]

i would never want to imply that 87 doesn't have issues writing women, cuz it really does (there's diet jokes, there's misogynistic dialogue, and one uncomfortable ...harem...thing...) but what surprises me most is how actually nicely the women can be written into stories when they show up? like case in point: mona lisa.

first of all, when i looked her up before watching this episode for the first time i had seen one picture and was so nervous to get to this episode like "god a girl turtle so she has hair and a pink scarf, and raphael has to comfort her? great its gonna be cringe" but it turned out i was super wrong. its a one off episode for her, but she captures your attention because raphael has fallen into her story (the same way the turtles as a whole in this series fell into april's story)

she uses raphael as a way to get into a party via hanging off his arm and pretending they're a couple, and then leaves him. the camera doesn't ogle on her, they don't make him infatuated with her, they just have him clearly confused by why a girl took his arm kissed his cheek and then left. and then he sees her acting suspicious so he follows her, sees her hijacking the ship and assumes she's up to no good, cuz this is a turtles episode damn it, shes probably the bad guy!

she doesn't take his shit and tries to tell him to leave cuz he doesn't know what hes getting into and thinks he'll get hurt (she doesn't realize he is a real ninja turtle) before the villain shows up. we get her back story, where we learn she's a physics student who was kidnapped by the villain and forced to work for him, to which she plays along with because she's clever, and she found a way to stop him from the inside. this gets her mutated in the process. raphael realizes hes messed up and assumed this was his story to figure out but it wasn't, he's interrupted her story. raph realizes hes made a mistake and has to help her fix it.

at no point do they actually write this as a romance (despite it being possible to read some dialogue as flirtation, it isn't overt) they're writing mona lisa as someone who isn't taking raphael's sass and is dishing it right back at him and us the audience. the fact its called "raphael meets his match" is so fitting because she's just as much of a character as he is, and the reason it became a ship is on the merit of the way she is written to be a character with her own story and her own personality first, and then as a companion to raphael second

and its kind of sad when i think about 12 mona lisa because, yeah shes this huge alien warrior who fights well, shes not a pretty character, but we don't get to know much about her before her new role in this story is to be the object of raphael's affection. in the end i think its a matter of the (male) writers thinking "well the original mona lisa is too cute and wears pink and she gets helped by the turtles so if we make her a COOL ALIEN WHO FIGHTS GOOD that will make her a stronger character" which is not how that works!

unlike 87, she gets multiple episodes where she shows up, but each time her role is the same. she's raph's girlfriend first and foremost. there's moments of inner turmoil in her, but it always comes down to her fighting for her people vs staying true to raphael. and since this show is about the turtles it puts her place in the story as being about him.

so to me, given the choice between a mona who's story raphael falls into, vs one where she's forced into his, give me the cute pink one any day. that's the stronger character between the two.

[beloveds-embrace]

so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind

Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh

Original post

But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.

And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)

But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.

“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.

“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”

And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.

Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.

“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”

You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.

“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”

“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”

Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.

[aqg-arts]

Anyone wanna my 2 cents on Jade Shadows?

Spoilers bellow frens ;3

So, right off the bat (before I put my personal personal thoughts out there), we need to acknowledge the criticism and outright discomfort this quest had.

Some of the criticism this quest got is something I can agree with. Specifically; Jade Shadow's needed more time. 100%. Let them cook, or more importantly, let the story cook and maybe even burn a bit to give us some crispy, smokin hot parts.

The little footnote at the end of the quest saying we have 'more questions than answers'? We get it, you're self-conscious, but that doesn't give you an excuse for not giving me Stalker. PERIOD, BITCH.

Jest aside, srsly, we needed to know more about Jade, Stalker, what happened to them, baby Orion (Halo possessed me in that moment, iykyk), etc. People needed to get invested in the characters, especially because this is a quest so close to being like Sacrifice on its level of storytelling...

Had it been able to have just 30+ minutes longer.

Onto the 2nd part of the criticism, birthing sim:

I'll be honest, as someone who was thinking of even going into being a midwifery/allied health, it didn't freak me out as much as it did others. But that's just one side of it. The other is how people say Jade's agency was ignored.

I'll be honest, this is just wrong. It's not media illiteracy by any means, but rather pure ignorance. Why?

Because her agency is declared.

When?

"... you're going to be a father." OH, and the fact she literally wanted the baby. There are plenty of people who can explain it better than that, and whilst I acknowledge people may feel this way, this was, in fact, not what happened.

Also, this quest is not pro-life, nor is it anything related to that. If it was, I assure you, you would have a majority of the fan base up and walk. Take a chill pill. If you want to attack something for being pro-life, go help out at an abortion clinic with crowd control or smth. Because once you see that, you'll understand just how wrong you are.

It's not subtle.

It's not in between the lines.

It doesn't exist.

The end. Period. Fullstop.

The criticism is fair, but going so far as to say those are the undertones is just not on. Not only are you lying about something, but you are also disrespecting the very real women whom have had their agency denied in one way or another.

Now, that's not the only criticism about it, but those are just a few things you may see floating on tumblr. Again, both are ok and fair. But when you start to spread lies or ignore what actually happened, you're part of the problem, not the solution.

Now, onto the fun stuff!

Imo, aside from what was stated before, the quest was actually pretty fun and interesting. The pair make an interesting concept, especially now with the lil fugly bean, which has stolen a place in my cold, brainrotted heart. I think I like the Corpus Cap the most- pls marry me, pls. Oh, an Hunhow? Let me hug him. Let me give him a home on my ships. Let me tell him he can be my bestie!!!

Back to Stalker, though, I really hope we see more of him, especially now he's git a VA.

Speaking of, homie didn't get to speak often, but God did it hit home when he did. You can feel how desperate he is, then when he gets his answers, how lost he is. Finally, resolution and love ehen he names his lil kid at the end.

Music was on point, too. I can't listen to it tho bc Ik ima be sobbing lol. It was so beautiful!!!!!!!

Lorewise, however, I have so many fucking questions, but in the funny haha/good way.

Was jade pregnant b4 being a wf? If not, Stalker...

Why was their relationship shamed upon? Was Jade a Dax and him, well, him? Or was it because they weren't married? What was it that made the Orokin make em into Warframes? Also, Ballas, man, we know your hypocritical ass is in this shit too.

Also, Umbra and Helminth are confirmed to roam around the Orbiter, and vc Umbra is my main, this is a personal achievement. Now let us see it happen, and I'll be DE's 4 life.

But seriously, TL;DR:

Jade Shadow's was a good quest, it just needed to cook slightly longer. And, until we get more Umbra x Stalker from DE (bros b4 all), I'll be on AO3 in 3 (maybe 4) tags.

See in the next Stalker stan post :)

[agoldengalaxy]

Meant to Be

read on Ao3

words: 2768

Charles Smith lived on his own, in the woods, for almost fifteen years, but when a confrontation with the Pinkerton Detective Agency ends badly, he is helped by two kind, mysterious strangers who offer him safety with their gang.

--

Steadying his breath, Charles narrowed his eyes toward the other man, his mind racing. The man, after chasing him down on horseback, stood upon the hill alone, wearing a bowler hat, a gold pin, and a stupid grin.

“Ah, finally. The man in the woods. I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite some time.” The stranger’s voice was calm and condescending as his hand drifted toward his belt, resting lightly on the hilt of his gun.

“Why?” Charles asked, already wondering which weapon he should have at the ready. “What could you possibly want with me?”

The man seemed delighted by something. “So you do speak! Why, I figured you were more animal than human…”

Charles drew in sharp breath, deciding he should probably reach for the revolver he’d stolen some time ago if things went even more south. “That didn’t answer my question.”

His mouth twitched, and the man held up his hands in a surrender motion. “No harm, no foul.” He reached up to tip his hat. “My name is Edward Williams. I work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Some reports came in about a man who lived in the woods; a man who was very good at hunting.”

“So you came to take me down because I need to survive?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Don’t get so defensive with me, sir.” Williams still had that grin on his face as he spoke. “No, in fact, I’m here to offer you a job with the agency. We need more detectives who are…ah…better in the field. Better at hunting. Besides, civilization is becoming quite popular these days. It isn’t necessary for you to live out here.”

Charles paused, thinking this must be some kind of sick prank. He hadn’t seen any humans around these parts for a while - how had a detective gotten out here? And stranger still, why would they offer him a job, the man who had been living in the woods since he was thirteen?

It had to be a trap. And even if it wasn’t, Charles didn’t want to work for the government system that took his parents away from him. His mother, the army. His father, the bottle.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested. I’m sure you can find someone else that fits your description, Detective Williams.” Charles bowed his head as a sign of respect, however wavering it may have been, and watched as the detective’s mouth twisted a little.

“What a shame,” Williams sighed. “In that case, I hope I do not have to use force to ask you to come with me again.”

Charles eyed the man for a moment. “You said you weren’t here to take me down.” 

“I wasn’t. I was offering you the job, but since you’ve refused, we’ll have to take you in as a suspect instead.” The agent tilted his head. “Lot of complaints ‘round these parts about an Indian roaming around all suspiciously. We have to protect the women and children.” His gaze hardened. “Don’t resist, it will only make things harder for you.” A leaf crunched atop the hill, but it wasn’t Williams. Charles froze, watching five men join Williams atop the hill, all holding guns. They had been there the whole time, just out of sight, and Charles was beginning to wish he had just made a run for it the second the man opened his mouth. Williams smiled, fake pity on his face. “No need for the long face. My friends won’t hurt you, long as you come up here nice and quiet.”

His gaze swept across the six detectives. Surely he’d be able to take them, and he could just get back to his life away from other human beings. Pulling out his revolver as quickly as he could, he dove behind a nearby boulder while Williams yelled at his men to open fire. Bullets rained down and Charles muttered a curse under his breath.

He knew it was a trap.

Taking a deep breath, he listened to the sound of the bullets to tell him when he could peek up and aim. He aimed and shot. One in the chest, one in the head, one clean through the stomach. Three detectives remained, but they knew better than to stay where they were, beginning to close in on the boulder where Charles hid. He had to do this fast. He aimed upward, pulling the trigger while rolling behind the nearest tree. A yell of anguish filled the air and he knew they were just down to two men left. As he fumbled to reload his revolver, he felt cold metal press against his back.

“Drop the gun,” Williams hissed into his ear, and Charles reluctantly did so. “Much better. Now we can get along, hm?”

The other detective smirked, still aiming his own gun directly at Charles. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly, a shot rang through the air. Blood splattered everywhere from the other detective’s face, and is body dropped to the ground. In his shock, Williams let go of Charles, who turned around to wrestle the man to the ground, kicking his gun away from him. Williams snarled, spitting on Charles’ face.

“You’re nothing.”

Charles, his breath heaving, stood up to aim his gun down. He didn’t hesitate.

Once Williams was nothing more than a corpse, Charles breathed in, looking around wildly for the source of the other bullet. It couldn’t have been the Pinkertons.

In the distance, near the clearing, stood two silhouettes, blotted out by the golden light of the setting sun. He remembered his father once talking about angels, but he never quite believed it. Now, he wondered if it were true.

“Hey, there,” one of the silhouettes called. Both shadows held up their hands to show they no longer wielded guns as they took cautious steps forward. “Are you alright?”

Charles still held his revolver, just in case. These men had saved him, but he’d learned a long time ago that many men would save people specifically for ulterior motives. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered anyway. It was the truth. He was uninjured, and things had been a whole lot worse a few minutes ago.

Perhaps feeling a little more confident, the two men continued walking until they were just a few feet away, and now Charles could get a better look at them. They looked like normal men, but being able to shoot someone from that distance so accurately told him they weren’t normal. 

The older man, with kind eyes and gray hairs hidden beneath a dark hat, gave Charles a once-over. “I’m glad to hear that, son. Why were the Pinkertons after you?”

“I…don’t know,” he admitted, finding himself less and less intimidated by the second. “He said something about people reporting me to them. But I don’t talk to anyone.” Deep down, he knew the reason why. He knew, because of the looks people would give him just because of the way he looked, because of who his parents were, because of who he was.

“You know how some people are,” the other man, with the sandy hair and well-trimmed beard, mumbled, as if reading his thoughts. “An’ the Pinkertons are bullies.”

Charles nodded, glancing down at the body of Williams. “Seems that way.” He looked back up, clearing his throat. “Thank you…for the help. I should get going. They’re probably gonna be sending more this way, after all that gunfire.”

“Yes, probably,” the older man agreed, but tilted his head slightly. “It’s not safe for you here anymore. Would you…like to come with us?”

“Come with you?” he repeated incredulously, glancing between both men. The younger one had the ghost of a smile on his face, like this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. “I don’t even know you.”

“My name is Hosea Matthews. This here is Arthur Morgan. We got a camp, few miles north from here, full of lovely folks. You’re welcome to come with us, check things out, and you can leave if you want.”

Charles narrowed his eyes slightly. “Who are you, really?”

“We’re a gang,” Arthur answered plainly, as if it weren’t a big deal. “We ain’t good people, but we’re better than those bastards.” He nodded toward the bodies, and Charles followed his gaze.

His mind told him to run away, to not trust these men. He figured nothing good could come of it. He’d survived this long on his own before, surely he could take more of those agents if they came. Though he knew that was the rational way of thinking, his heart told him to trust them. His heart told him that if not for them, he could be dead by now. 

Maybe it was Hosea’s kind eyes. Maybe it was Arthur’s smirk. He couldn’t tell.

“…Alright. I’ll come with you.”

Charles went toward one of the nearby trees to grab his small satchel. He could hear the two quietly talking amongst themselves.

“You’re never excited when we invite a new feller,” Hosea was saying goodnaturedly, probably not meaning for Charles to hear. Arthur scoffed.

“You seen how he handled them, Hosea. He’s pretty good.”

“So was Micah, and you hate him.”

“Micah’s an idiot. This feller ain’t.”

When Charles returned to them, Hosea straightened up. “Do you have a horse, son?” When he shook his head, Hosea glanced at his companion. “Well, then, you can ride with Arthur. We got plenty of horses at camp you can borrow.” They each lifted a hand to their mouths, whistling, and the sound of galloping hooves grew louder and louder until two horses appeared beside them.

Hosea mounted his, and Arthur gestured. “After you.”

Charles eyed Arthur for a moment. He couldn’t quite get a read on him. He wondered if it was possible that he really was just excited to meet him, to have him come join the gang. Without a word, he climbed on top of the saddle, and Arthur mounted in front of him. They took off.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Charles watched the passing trees and mountains with the waning sunlight, the sky morphing into different colors with each new moment. Suddenly, Arthur spoke, his gruff voice carried on the wind.

“What’s your name?”

“Charles. Charles Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles Smith.”

Charles couldn’t see his face, but he could hear a slight smile in his voice. He couldn’t help but do the same. “You too.”

***

To say it was all overwhelming would be an understatement.

There were a lot of people in this camp, and all the looks he got when they first arrived were not lost on him. Most of them seemed uneasy when he dismounted, and he found himself pressing a little closer to Arthur as they walked toward a nearby tent. Standing there, watching them approach, was a man with dark hair, smoking a cigarette. He looked straight at Hosea, his eyebrows raised, as if asking a silent question.

“Dutch, this is Charles Smith. He was being pursued by the Pinkertons, but he held his own very well. I told him he could lie low with us for a while,” Hosea explained, probably loud enough for most of the camp to hear. 

The man, clearly the leader of this gang, turned his gaze instead to Charles. His eyes almost seemed hungry as he took him in, but he gave him a kind smile on top of it. “Of course you’re welcome to stay, Mr. Smith. We shoot fellers as need shootin’, save fellers as need savin’, feed fellers who need feedin’, and I assume you need those last two.” Exhaling a puff of smoke, Dutch lifted his gaze toward the other prying eyes. “Everyone! Please make our new friend feel welcome. This here is Charles Smith. He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

There were some quiet murmurs, but eventually everyone went back to what they were doing before. Charles awkwardly bowed his head toward Dutch. “Thank you. For the welcome.”

“Of course. Let us know if you need anything.”

Perhaps able to tell he was overwhelmed, Hosea placed a grounding hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Are you hungry, Charles?”

He blinked, the question suddenly making him aware of how hungry he actually was. “A little.” He hadn’t had time to find food yet. He didn’t think he’d eaten anything since last night.

He let Hosea guide him, saying goodbye to Arthur for the time being, and took in the night while they walked. It was loud, but it still felt calm. Charles hadn’t been around this many people in a long time. At least he knew, for now, he could trust Hosea and Arthur.

They approached a man standing by a large pot, drinking from a small flask. “Mr. Pearson, good evening! Do you have anything left from dinner?” Hosea greeted.

Pearson finished his swig, then glanced between the two, seemingly doing a double take. “Ah, the new guy! Nice to see another new face ‘round here. Sure, made some broth earlier. Hope you like rabbit.” Carefully, the man poured some of the thick liquid into a bowl with a spoon, then handed it over. He beamed at Hosea. “Glad to see you’re talkin’ up my cooking for once, Hosea!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘talking up,”’ he replied, the ghost of a grin on his face, “but when you’re hungry, everything’s good. Come on, Charles.” Charles thanked Pearson for the food and followed Hosea toward one of the picnic tables. “Here you are, son. Would you like to be left alone?”

Charles blinked in surprise. Of all the questions he could have gotten, that was not one he was expecting. Even more surprisingly, the answer was no.  “Um…Would you tell me about everyone here?”

For a moment, Hosea looked taken aback. And then a smile, a real genuine smile appeared on his face as he sat across from him. “Of course.”

***

Dutch was the leader.

Hosea was his partner in crime.

Arthur was their son. Not really, but the three of them began the gang.

John was next, and then the rest of them trickled in.

It would take a long time to remember all of these names, but he was strangely feeling at home here. He’d never been shown such hospitality before. Everyone had at least tried to be nice, except for the guy with blond hair and mustache who’d talked to him condescendingly like Williams. He couldn’t remember his name, but he was the type of guy he would expect to be in a gang. Surprisingly, he was the minority. All of these people were kind.

Charles sat quietly on a spare sleeping bag, looking up at the stars while the nearby campfire crackled. A lot of the camp was asleep now, but he didn’t feel tired yet, despite the day he’d had.

“Thought you would have run away by now.”

Lowering his gaze, Charles took Arthur in, his face illuminated by the fire. He held back a smile, shaking his head. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.” He didn’t see that happening.

Arthur smirked, walking toward his tent, which happened to be right next to Charles’ bag. “Just wait ‘til you hear Sean’s terrible singin’. Karen always swears she’ll never come back.”

Charles glanced back up at the stars, letting a few moments pass. Then, “The real reason you wanted me to come with you was because you wanted me to join the gang, right? You want me to help you get money ‘cause you saw how good I shoot?”

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little satisfying that Arthur seemed taken aback. “Uh…we that obvious?”

“Yes. But…it’s okay.” Charles looked back at him. “You’re the one that shot the detective, aren’t you?” When Arthur nodded, he continued.  “You saved my life. So maybe my life is meant to be more than just my own survival. I’ll help you.”

Arthur stared at him. “Wow. You’re pretty amazin’.”

Strangely, his heart skipped a beat. He supposed it was because he wasn’t used to talking to anyone at all, let alone being complimented. “...Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, and eventually, Arthur lay down in his sleeping bag. Charles continued to watch the fire burn until it was just embers, and then he lay down as well. The sky was full of twinkling stars that seemed to tell him this was where he was meant to be.

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

[soupthatistohot]

BSD: An Absurdist Analysis - Chapters 7 & 8 (Part 1)

Yosano and Kyouka: The Agency’s Women

[Masterpost]

I will be covering chapter 7 and 8 different from how I usually do these analyses, focusing on certain characters rather than the linear narrative. These two chapters revolve around the introduction of Yosano and Kyouka into the story, so I will focus on them for this post and make another ch. 7 & 8 post regarding other aspects of the chapters. 

So, let’s talk about Yosano!

This is her introductory chapter, spotlighting her personality and eventually her ability. One of my favorite moments by far is when she’s apologizing on Atsushi’s behalf for bumping into a rude, wealthy and entitled man who then kicks her in the face and she replies by threatening to stomp on his dick.

Later in the chapter, after Motojiro Kajii begins the bomb threat on the train, the same man begs for Yosano to save him after realizing she’s with the agency, perhaps hinting to the reader that he’s now had a change of heart… but then asks her to step on his dick. Appropriately, she drop-kicks the pervert. 

This highlights the absurdity of sexism and classism in modern society, the man flaunting his wealth earlier and insulting Yosano for being a woman, and is still unable to get over his bigoted ideology when his literal life is in danger. One would like to think that a woman being part of a powerful detective agency would earn the man’s respect, but in reality, this is not quite so true. He just wants to reap the advantages of having Yosano on his side by offering to pay her, but still objectifies her in the end. It’s a nuanced criticism that doesn’t magically solve sexism/classism by Yosano simply existing as a badass woman. 

This continues with Kajii’s interaction with Yosano, where he remarks that “women are so tough nowadays,” implying that it’s not in women’s nature to be strong. His sexist assumptions already put him at a disadvantage, because although he acknowledges Yosano’s strength, he still thinks himself more powerful and her stupid for trying to defy him.

In chapter 8, he calls her a “girl” and questions her intelligence, to which Yosano retaliates, calling Kajii "an idiot."

She’s goading him into injuring her here, knowing that her own ability will only work if she is on the brink of death, and it works. He drops a load of bombs on her, ignorantly assuming that there’s no chance of her survival. When he checks on her again, she uses this to her advantage, attacking him and effectively putting him in his place. 

Earlier, he had basically tried to mansplain death to her, not knowing who she was or what her background is, so she reveals her status as a doctor and explains her ability and understanding of death, threatening him.

After this, she half-kills Kajji and uses her ability on him enough times that she gets the information she needs and is able to speak to Atsushi over the intercom, allowing him to take charge of the situation. 

In summary, this chapter introduces Yosano as someone consistently overlooked because she is a woman, but she proves that she is capable and intelligent, which is not negated by the fact that she is also revealed to be borderline sadistic. It paints a nuanced portrait of a female character that will be further explored with her backstory much later in the manga. 

Now, let’s shift focus to Kyouka. 

Kyouka is silently present throughout chapter 7: capturing Dazai at the beginning and bumping into Atsushi at the train station. We know she is a threat, likely affiliated with the Port Mafia, but she is kept mysterious until the conclusion of chapter 7, using her appearance as a young, quiet girl as a cover until then. Atsushi tries to warn her against going toward the bomb before she reveals Demon Snow, who is being controlled by Akutagawa at this point. 

Continuing into Chapter 8, Atushi is shown to have been pretty injured by Demon Snow, and when he asks why a young girl like her is there, she reveals her very innocent interests and fears… and the fact that she’s killed thirty-five people in the last six months. 

Pairing the seemingly normal and even sweet personality traits consistent with a young girl with the fact that she’s an assassin is jarring, those two things do not belong together, and yet, in this absurd reality, there exists and girl who likes rabbits and has caused death. It’s absurd. 

After battling with Atsushi some more, she reveals that the bomb is strapped to her chest, reiterating her body count. Atsushi implores her to “express herself,” telling her that there’s more to life, imploring that they stop. Yosano then interrupts and Kyouka hands over the switch, only for Akutagawa to reveal through the phone that there is no way to defuse the bomb and it will go off regardless. 

She then pushes Atsushi away, attempting to jump off the train, and he then realizes that the phone controls her ability, that she has no autonomy and did not want to commit the murders she did. She has no autonomy. 

But rather than be resigned to her fate and allow herself and everyone on the train to die, Atsushi’s words seem to have affected her, and she decides to sacrifice only herself, jumping off the moving train.

While I cannot label this action as explicitly absurd (she believed she was dying either way and had completely lost hope), the fact that she’s rebelling against what Akutagawa wanted her to do, something she was unable to do thus far, is significant. I also think it is noteworthy that her ability is being controlled by a man, rendering her mostly unable to control her own actions, her hopelessness allowing for this. This appears to be in theme with the feminist lens these chapters seem to be taking. 

But as we already know with BSD, there is no situation that is completely hopeless, and Kyouka’s intended act of sacrifice allows Atsushi to jump out after her and save her, the bomb detaching from her chest far enough from the train that nobody gets injured. 

Kyouka will be further developed in future chapters, so I’ll wrap this up here at the end of chapter 8. What I will bring up is Kyouka’s similarities to Dazai, especially in his younger years. This is by no means an original idea, as many others have brought up this point on social media, but I do think it’s worth noting considering that the two share a certain amount of nihilism, which is only perpetuated by the toxic environment of the Port Mafia. Here, we see 

Kyouka taking her first steps toward breaking from this mindset, taking direct action so that nobody else got killed, seemingly the first decision she’s made for herself since her parents’ death. In this moment, she's reclaimed her autonomy.

This post is long enough as it is, so I’ll end it here. I will be making another post soon about chapters 7 and 8, focusing on Dazai’s capture, Kajji’s ideology, and Atsushi’s actions.

[Previous] [Next]

[gregoriaofnyssa]

Is the "Modesty Influencer" a Contradiction of Kinds?

I apologize for the hiatus, once again. My laptop was destroyed in a robbery, and my passwords to everything except the google account I actually use were lost.

While I was without an outlet to express these thoughts, I've been noodling the question of whether or not being an influencer and being modest are mutually exclusive. Before I want to get into this, I want to offer something that may be difficult to hold: Modesty is not the highest Christian Virtue. It doesn't even crack the top 4 or 7, depending on who you ask, and it isn't mentioned so often in Patristic writings (they speak of Humility, not modesty). This is not to say that it isn't a virtue, or that it isn't necessary, but it is to say that to call something "not modest" (different from 'immodest') is not the same as calling it sinful. I'm also not calling anyone a low-down-no-good skank. Modesty, as I've discussed before, is not exclusively about sexuality.

Perhaps we should first discuss if it is modest to be an influencer or celebrity (micro/macro) in the first place. My instinct is to say, "No! If your career necessitates you be looked at, noticed, praised, etc., it is not modest." But, as I think of it more, I think, maybe, it depends? A good example of this is painters and writers. The best authors and painters of our day and days past were not/are not personally paid much attention. You have some cultural juggernauts like Stephen King and Jo-Row, but they are, not coincidentally, not very good to very not good. On the other hand, you have authors like Cormac McCarthy and Seamus Heaney and Arundhati Roy. With the exception of McCarthy (who was basically a hermit), Heaney and Roy did/do talks, lectures, and interviews, but it is about craft, their books, and it is chiefly for the purpose of instructing others. Good writing almost necessitates modesty and humility.

On the opposite end of this, you have models. You cannot convince me it is possible to attain modesty as a model. Maybe a hand model. Christian modeling agencies may keep ladies fully clothed, but they do not keep you modest. Tell me how someone can possibly see Christ before they see you when you're splayed (yes, in a classy fashion) on the centerfold of a catalogue.

I would say the position of a "modesty influencer" is more similar to the model than the author.

I think it should go without saying that a page titled, "Marian Modesty with Marianne" or whatever, which posts lifestyle content, look-books, and videos of Marianne frolicking in a field wearing an ankle length dress and a linen kerchief is not modest. These are just selfies. You are allowed to post selfies. I don't think this assessment changes much when it's captioned with, "Just a girl who Loves submitting to her Lord," or even some hot take about modesty itself, no matter how good or bad the take is.

However, there are some modesty pages that do not exude this same feeling of attention-seeking. The thing they all have in common is that they're instructional. Many of them are historical recreation pages. Their focus is not their own modesty, or sometimes even modesty in general. They teach you how to alter your clothes for your preferences. They teach you how to layer for more coverage, they recommend brands, and they are, ironically, more likely to be in love with fashion as a concept.

Now, modesty (& "modesty") pages have been of great help for many women looking to dress more conservatively. Inspiration and instruction both have their places. I know when I was first converting, my wardrobe needed a little overhaul. I was enslaved to the turtleneck and mini skirt outfit. Not only was it immodest, but it was a crutch in my self-confidence and a helper of my vanity. It was fruitful to get comfortable with the idea that I can feel pretty while dressing in a covered way. I really took off with veiling styles as well! I am so thankful for the women who helped me in that phase of my life, and I am thankful for them now, helping other women.

I started thinking about this before the whole ReligiousHippie controversy happened on twitter, but I think this is a shining example of it. The station of a woman in the public eye who talks mostly about religion is not similar to a private woman, or even a woman who mostly posts about herself. Different stations in life are different, alert the media. What constitutes a normal post for a normal girl is not necessarily innocuous for such a woman. Furthermore, as a public facing woman on the internet, you know what enflames people, both sexually and otherwise. It is an absolute lie that we do not have a responsibility to keep each other from stumbling-- you are your brother's keeper. Jesus says to pluck out your eyes, but scripture also says not to cause scandal. And that is what it was-- scandal in the purest meaning.

The theme here is that immodesty pretends to be something it isn't. Walking out of the house half-dressed pretends that you are not a child of God. Posting a cute picture and trying to make it about being pro-life or modest pretends that you're not just posting a little selfie.

[wakeupfreanz]

Oooooh I have an opinion… I don’t know if you’ll agree, but here it goes.

The way some female bg stans treat male idols is eerily similar to the way men treat women in general society. They’re literally replicating the same oppressive structure in the Kpop world, because they have the power of being the consumers who run the industry with their money and have idols’ careers in their hands.

The hypersexualization of idols not only on stage, but in literally everything they do (eat, sleep, talk…); the obsession with their dating life; the perpetuation of unrealistic beauty standards and centering physical appearance as the aspect they give the most validation through; the entitlement to their time, attention and interactions and not taking a no for an answer; the (again, unrealistic) expectation that they follow a certain behavior and the backlash when they don’t… I could go on, but you get my point. And stans justify everything because “they’re idols, they signed up for it”, “they like it”, “they don’t mind”, forgetting they’re HUMAN beings, with a whole life beyond the stage we don’t know about and a mind of their own, but they just can’t say anything because it could ruin their careers.

speaking of careers, I wanted to ask how is the near future looking for Ateez… what’s in store for them? Will they get more recognition? More creative freedom? I’m short: will they be doing well?

thanks a lot!

You know what? It does make a lot of sense, the oppressed having the opportunity to be the oppressor. I think though we will see SOME of it, not all of it change, since we're in/entering the 'made by women'/'written by women' era. Let's transform your question into focus on their agency as idols/people under their company lol. I'm gonna do their quarterly predictions.

More creative freedom going forward?: 10oW, likely not. This could mean that they MAY receive it after a lot of trouble. Or not at all.

Brief success outlook: 6oW, Magi, AoS, HP. I see them continuing to have steady/stable success over the years, coming up with some shit that feels constantly innovative and new. It seems like there are one or at least few of them. (AHEM HONGJOONG) that is feeling like eventually everything is come to an end and is immensely disappointed that they won't reach the goals they want in their career(s). Something about really wishing to reach the peak of everything, but the problem is that there really is no such thing as a peak in this industry sometimes.

[adhdnojutsu]

I wanted to stay out of this topic on here, but this is word for word on point. I lost 20 followers on twitter on the same day I merely expressed upset about October 7. BEFORE Israel bombed Gaza and before I started speaking unkindly out of anger. These people went full DARVO on October 7 PROPER. They already determined that Shani Louk deserved it, the Bibas babies deserved it, my auntie-in-law deserved it, and pity for future Palestinian victims preceded Israel's retaliation (so if we could all predict this, why did Hamas..?).

I am a Zionist because I believe Jews are entitled to running things in our proven indigenous homeland. No, I do not support a genocide of so-called Palestinians.

"Prescribing anti-Zionism", a brilliant article by an old friend.

Best bit: "The Western doctor has some serious issues of his own. He implicates seven million people, living among hundreds of millions with a history of extreme violence, with being the sole authors of their own misfortune."

Some facts, numbers, and uNcOmFy questions below the cut because they're kind of beside the point. But of course, the Goyim like screeching "not reading all that, free Palestine" because being an ignorant bigot is suddenly activism ("anTi-iNtELleCtUaLiSm").

If Israel had genocidal intentions, it could have done it already, instead there's 2 million Palestinians living within Israel as equal citizens. What is happening now is not a genocide; where was that accusation when:

Could it be that urban warfare in such densely packed areas just has high casualties? As for the % of children, Hamas' "martyr" charter of June 2024 has a strange age/sex ratio of victims. Until the age of 12, male and female casualties are about the same. 13-18 (a HUGE span), boys suddenly outnumber girls disproportionately. Could it be that those "innocent children" are mostly combatants aged 16-18? I can't find the charter anymore, but if you google any gallery of fallen Gazan minors you'll notice a disproportionate majority of teenage boys. Either the democratically elected Hamas government kills baby girls, in which case why are you supporting that nation? But that's unlikely given a population growth that requires a lot of young women. Or a lot of those "innocent children" are combatants. By the way, use of child soldiers is a war crime (like everything else your beloved Hamas does).

While unsuccessfully trying to find that list again (I only saw it in the background of a reel), I came across their Telegram, and boy oh boy. Pay attention to how blatantly they lie to your faces. They call it "aggression" as if October 7 wasn't the singular cause of the war, and they call the victims "martyrs". Martyrdom is a voluntary commitment children are not capable of.

This is a death cult.

Also, look how they manipulate public opinion. Apparently, women and elderly are not adults, and that's how you get 60% child casualties. Except, look left: children are less than half of the total. This is from the Hamas-run Gaza Health Ministry's Telegram.

By the way, I DON'T CARE that Hamas took "kill the Jews" out of their charter during my 6 of my pets' lifetime. They merely rephrased it to be less explicit. I'd say actions speak louder than words. They haven't stopped bombing Israeli civilians since 2002, then there's October 7, uhhhhhhhhh fuck your charter nonsense.

Hamas are literally Nazis.

Except, the Germans didn't elect the NSDAP knowing in advance what its goals were. Hamas on the other hand was pretty up front with their "glass of juice" thing. If all Israelis are fair game under an allegedly evil government, doesn't equality dictate the same be applied to Gazans? But no, somehow, anything they do is Israel's fault. They're Brown Babies (TM) with 0 agency or accountability. But you think they're fit to run a whole ass state. Make it make sense.

Also. Ever wonder why so much land outside of the Arabian peninsula is Arab? COLONIALISM, YOU DARVO-ADDICTED SHMUCKS!!!! Your beloved "Arab unity" is lipstick on a pig named imperialism. This is amply documented if you were to leave your comfy Tiktok/Twitter echo chambers and biased sites like decolonizethatcolony or BstopDsupportingSjews. But y'all call that tiny state of ours "imperialist" LMAO we're the size of New Jersey and even traded some of that land for peace we then proceeded to... not get. But we owe them another ceasefire? How many cheeks would you like us to turn? Virtually every single ceasefire so far was violated by them, not us. October 7 marked the end of another ceasefire, for example.

NO, Zionism does NOT mean Jews think we're the master race or we hate Arabs; most of us don't even want an ethno-state (but why not, since y'all support this for Palestinians since y'all want us Jews gone from that land?). Zionism really just means the ONE thing progressives and leftists claim to support: indigenous people decolonizing and running their proven indigenous homeland. Whatever hardliners and fanatics do in the name of Zionism, changes nothing.

After all, y'all don't stand for people lumping all of Islam in with ISIS, so why is Zionism treated like a hivemind of evil? All Muslims aren't a hivemind and a "few" terrorist organizations don't represent all Muslims, but you decide a single Israeli government speaks for all Jews and Zionists and you make us feel guilty and apologize for Israel wherever you find us, like at UCLA.... Why? Also, Muslims are NOT an "oppressed minority", and "brown" and "Muslim" are not interchangeable. They make up a quarter of the world's population, only barely beaten by Christians. Look who absolutely is a minority and in dire need and deserving of their own state.. ONE tiny state while the others have 90% of the region... and you want to take that tiny bit of land from us, even though it is historically proven to be ours..? But you think you're the good guys? No, really, how can 0.2% oppress 25%? Because no, Palestinians are not a distinct people, more on that below.

But you dare talk over our indigenous voices. Y'all wouldn't stand for cis people cisplaining trans issues, white people whitesplaining Black issues, or European Americans colonizersplaining Indigenous Americans. UNPACK WHY YOU MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR JEWS!

Y'all mach for decolonization and indigenous supremacy, but when (a minority of) Jews are too light-skinned for you UNCONCERNED GAWKER'S liking after 2000 years in diaspora, we're somehow genocidal colonizers for taking back a FRACTION of what is our proven indigenous homeland, and you decide that, just because they're brown, Palestinians must be more indigenous than us (the vast majority of Israelis are Middle Eastern aka brown and visually indistinguishable from Arabs; a white head of state makes Israel no more white than Obama made the US Black). The year of construction of the Al Aqsa mosque proves they settled there in the 7th century, because that was when Islam was founded and spread BY BRUTAL CRUSADES Y'ALL WERE SUPPOSED TO HATE.

Palestinian PLO commander Zuheir Mohsen himself admits Palestine is a lie concocted to legitimize an illegitimate claim to land only someone "indigenous" to the land of "Palestine" (Israel, Judea, Canaan,...) can make:

Hamas dickriding in my Asks will no longer be engaged but blocked on sight.

What really gets me is just how eager goyim* are to make up & believe the worst about us, both on a large scale and in one-on-one interactions.

On a large scale, they hear propagandists define Zionism as violent and genocidal and instead of going “Hey that’s a word from a minority culture, maybe I should ask people from that culture what it actually means . . .” they go “Well I already knew Jews were evil bloodthirsty greedy monsters, this just confirms it!”. Or they hear Hamas claim that (((The Zionist Entity))) did something horrific and instead of going “that makes no sense to do strategically, I should find out if this is true or not” they go “of course Jews would do that, why would I even bother fact checking a terrorist organization with ‘kill Jews’ as a stated goal?”.

On an interpersonal level, they find out we’ve visited Israel or they see us mourn October 7th or express concern for the hostages or fight back against disinformation or call out antisemitism or even just express our culture and go “clearly this means you’re evil and bloodthirsty and genocidal. I don’t care thar you’ve never expressed that you want/believe/etc these terrible things, you are a Jew, and I know what Jews really are.” Even just talking about antisemitism or something that has happened to other jews, they respond with “that didn’t happen, and even if it did, you deserved it / you’re bringing it up to manipulate us / it wasn’t that bad / it doesn’t matter because Jews Are Evil and you’re clearly doing something worse (you must be, you’re a Jew!)”

Like. It doesn’t matter if the evidence contradicts a claim. It doesn’t matter if a claim makes no fucking sense. It doesn’t matter what we say or do. Goyim* will believe or make up whatever they want about us, and believe the worst possible thing about us. Even if a Jew tokenizes themself and helps goyim attack the rest of us, the second they slip up and care about other Jews, they were An Evil Dirty Jew All Along, No Questions Asked.

[*not all goyim obviously, but definitely most goyim in leftist spaces + right wingers. Massive love + appreciation to the minority of goyim who are true Jewish allies. Also, I’m writing this with leftist antisemites in mind, but right wingers absolutely do this shit too.]

[laurenlavianafamer112a]

Blog Post #1: An Unrequited Conversation with Bree Newsome about Her Short Film “Wake”

The short film “Wake” by Bree Newsome is shocking, fascinating, and left me wishing very much that I could speak with Bree Newsome herself to ask her some questions about the intended meaning behind the work.  To me, there are three main themes that stood out and, in this blog post, I’d like to discuss those intertwining themes as well as pose the questions I’d dearly love to ask Bree Newsome.  

The first theme of this short film deals with social expectations and the power of normative cultural expectations.  In the film, the main character Charmaine cares a lot about appearances, specifically she cares about the opinions of the other gossipy women in her small town.  And this gets her into trouble because, when she uses root work (folk magic) to summon a demon to create what she thinks is the man of her dreams, it seems like she does so not really because she wants a husband, per se, but rather because she is expected to find a husband.  For instance, the women gossip among themselves saying, “all she needs is a good solid man,” and “she’s lucky her Daddy died when he did, while there’s still time to get married over his dead body.”  Once she has this man, she does not enjoy him, per se, but she very much enjoys showing off the fact that she has exceeded all social expectations of her.  Social expectations play an interesting, insidious role in this film, a role not unlike the demon itself actually.  

The second theme explored in this film is religion and questions about the nature of humankind and of the soul.  The film’s narration is full of Bible quotes, and the idea that we come from the earth and return to the earth after we die, “ashes to ashes and dust to dust,” is a huge part of the plot itself.  The film begins with Charmaine’s father’s burial, and the soil of his grave is what Charmaine trades with the demon to get her new husband.  Was her new husband formed of that same earth?  When he dies, when Charmaine chops her new husband’s head off in the end, his body is not a human corpse but has become earth again.  Charmaine is pretty convinced he is a monster, but I found myself asking whether she isn’t the real monster here, after all, the men are but earth (her father and her new husband, both) but Charmaine and the female demon, well, they are the ones playing God with the earth.    

This latter point directly connects to the biggest question I have about this film, a question that has to do with the third major theme: gender roles and the issue of oppression and objectification.  On one hand, Charmaine is oppressed in so many ways; she is geographically isolated, and while her father was alive he was domineering and kept her from dating or doing something with her life.   She is stuck, trapped, oppressed, and forced into marriage by a culture that judges and condemns her for being unmarried, and by the end of the film she is pregnant with a son, about to be even further cemented into the trap.  She’s been forced to play a role all her life, and now the role of mother will be next.  By this account, a woman belongs to her father, then to her husband, then to her son; Charmaine has little agency under this interpretation.  On the other hand, Charmaine is responsible for the deaths of both her father and her new, conjured demon-made husband.  She went to the woods, had the knowledge of root work that she needed, and exercised that knowledge to acquire power over her situation.  She treats men like objects, particularly in the sense that like Dr. Frankenstein, she is responsible for creating a new life only to hate, reject, and dispose of him.  Under this account, Charmaine is empowered, has plenty of agency, and in fact in some ways far more than we ever see the men in this film exercise.  So, once more, it is worth posing the question—who is the real monster here?  Is it the demon, the man the demon creates, or is it perhaps Charmaine herself?  I’d love to speak to Bree Newsome herself about these themes, about her intentions.  I know she is an activist; I know she is a feminist.  But that brings little clarity.  And perhaps that was Bree Newsome’s point all along.  Perhaps she was saying that in matters of religion, for questions about the nature of humankind, and in explaining the nature of gendered hierarchies and oppression, there simply are no clear-cut answers. 

[mariacallous]

A group of five international activists from Italy, France and Spain was arrested recently in Malko Tarnovo in Bulgaria and abused by police, the Italian activist group Collettivo Rotte Balcaniche Alto Vicentino alleged on Monday.

The group said the arrests happened during one of the group’s rescue missions to aid migrants and refugees in distress on the Bulgarian-Turkish border on September 10.

The emergency call reached the group at 4am. “A local partner organisation told us there was a group of seven people in distress, among them three children and two women in the Malko Tarnovo area,” one of the arrested activists told BIRN. He declined to give his name for security reasons.

The activists reached the group, stranded in a remote area, at around 5.30pm.

“We immediately called the emergency number, requesting an ambulance, as one of the children was unconscious and one woman had respiratory issues,” the activist said.

Instead, according to the activist, a man in a military uniform arrived with a dog and contacted the border police, who arrived quickly afterwards. “The police grabbed us by the neck and pushed us around but we were able to keep calm and avoid the situation escalating,” he said.

The activists were then taken to the police station in Malko Tarnovo, where they were questioned. Police later confirmed their arrest, accused them of being human smugglers and threatened them with jail time. The migrants and refugees in distress were brought to a closed camp near the town of Harmanli. 

“Our rights were violated. We were not provided with medical care despite two girls needing medicine for chronic diseases, we did not have access to our lawyer, we did not sign any papers or documents proving our detention, and the translator provided didn’t speak English,” the activist said. 

“We think it was an attempt from the border police in Malko Tarnovo to intimidate us. It happened in the past already, once they even deflated one of our tires to stop us from reaching a group in distress. They are behaving this way not only against us, but also local humanitarian workers,” he added. 

A local humanitarian organisation, Mission Wings, was cleared of suspected human smuggling in 2022, but is now again under investigation for the same crime.

Rescue missions have been part of the international activist group’s activities since it started operating in Bulgaria in spring 2023. In 2024, the group says it has conducted 50 rescue missions, helping 200 migrants and refugees in distress on the border.

A recent BIRN investigation reported that some EU Frontex border agency officers deployed to Bulgaria’s border with Turkey have been intimidated into silence about illegal pushbacks and brutality against migrants and refugees.

[anime-rambles]

“Welcome Home Omega”

Pairing: Alpha Bakugou x Alpha Kirishima x Omega Reader

Type: ABO Dynamic, SFW  

Word Count: 2700+

A/N: I’m new to all this, but I dreamt about this the other night and really wanted to share this with everyone. I have a tone more to write, so please follow along and any feedback would be hugely appreciated. Thank you so much.

Summary: Omega y/n returns home to her pack after so many years aboard being a successful hero, now they fear begin rejecting by her pack and more importantly her alpha’s.

 *****************************************

“Everyone please welcome to the stage, the one you’ve all be waiting for, Pro-Hero Shadow…” a loud voice spoke into the microphone as I waited backstage. Once my name was called, I left the spoke I was hiding in and joined them. The crowd was screaming and shouting, holding banners of my name and posters with my face. This was something I didn’t expect to happen when I returned home to Japan from my many years abroad. I smiled towards the women on stage, already determining her as a beta.

“Welcome Shadow, to your first ever hero-con” She spoke to me looking in my direction. I brought my mic to my face,

“It’s so good to be here, look at all these people wow.” I smiled towards the crowd. The cheering began again.

“So shadow, how are you feeling being back in Japan and being high on the hero board, especially as an omega…” she continued on looking at me, this was something I was used to.

“It feels so good being back, I left Japan 6 years ago after I graduated with my friends/pack members from UA, which many of you know...” I waited for the screaming to stop before I continued. “I was faced with two choice really, be a omega hero that would only get 2 years in hero work before being forced to stop by the hero commission or I could leave my pack and go to America and have a really good hero career helping other omegas reach their potential and then come back home, I think you can guess what I chose” I said, and turned to the interviewer waiting for her reply.

Being an omega in Japan and America is very different from each other, especially in hero work. In Japan, you get an unspoken max of 2-year work and then often omegas go to desk jobs in hero agencies. In America, you can be a hero no matter your 2nd gender but the chance of being taken seriously as an omega is very slim and was something I worked hard at. During my time in America, I created an omega hero agency and left it all to the very capable hands of my sidekick, frostbite. It was my time to come home, I need my family back.

“So, tell me, does you pack know your back?” She asked with smile in her eyes.

“I mean, yes and no. Our pack is a big one and it was created when we were back in school. The time that I left, I had an agreement with the unmarked alphas that I would not contact them at all, but to know I was safe, I was only allowed contact with the omegas. So, they know” I replied, laughing slightly back.

“So, a lot of alphas in your pack, how does that work?” she pushed for an answer.

“I can’t really say, our pack dynamic is private, so I won’t tell you who or what position everyone is but, we have a main alpha who us our leader, they have a second and then we have one alpha that doesn’t really care and then one alpha who gave up their position years ago.” I replied smiling hoping she would not ask any more questions about the pack.

“That’s fine, tell me about your work as a hero omega and how difficult is” She asked again. This is something I could talk about openly. I took a deep breath and began to speak about the importance of separating your 2nd gender, from your workplace, and they it does not define you. Yes, you can still have a timid nature but do not let it halt your growth as a strong independent person. That if you want to be head of heart surgery you do it and tell those Alphas/ beats to shove it, its your time to shine. I continued until I felt the interviewer wanting to ask another question.

“Although I’m strong, I would not have gotten to where I am today without my pack, in public they treat me like a hero, not an omega. I mean it didn’t take long to do bu…” I went to say but was cut off.

“What do you mean, didn’t take long?” she interrupted. I hesitated for a bit, and then looked out into the crowd.

“Okay, I really should not be saying this, but he won’t mind. Okay so when our pack was created, I was never allowed to do anything, and it really annoyed me. So, when our first Alpha was being chosen, I kind of challenged Pro-Hero Dynamite…. And won.” I replied looking out into the crowd and everyone started cheering.

“Since then, I was treated like a person, not an omega. Well not in public, in private we still use the proper greetings.” I smiled and turned to the interviewer again.

“Wow, you are amazing. We all know your now number 5 on the hero board, can you remind everyone your quirk again.” She asked gesturing to my hands. I look down and noticed the black sut coating my fingers. I nodded and began to explain. I can create my own smoke from my body and ignite it. From this smoke I can create solid weapon and if I have enough smoke in the area, I can tell a person’s movements. I do have a drawback; the smoke uses up the oxygen from my blood and can make me pass out or it stains my skin with black smoke.

The interview continues and eventually is opened to fan questions, near the end of the questions. I notice the back wall starting to fill up with tall dark figures, already guessing that my pack got word I am here. Excitement rises through me, and I find it hard to sit still.

“Well, I think the cats out of the bag your home, Shadow” the interviewers says to me gesturing to the back wall. Light shines to the back wall, standing there when their arms crossed is Pro-heroes Dynamite, Red Riot, Deku and Chargebolt who is waving crazy towards me. I laugh to myself, locking eyes with Bakugou lowering my head slightly.

“I guess so” I reply, and the cheering slowly dies down.

 ************************************

While sitting at my signing booth, listening to some amazing stories from fans. I hear my name being called the curtain behind me. I have a break from the fans for a second and approach the curtain.

“Hello, little omega.” The voice says, as I instantly know its Bakugou. I smile to myself, wanting to rip the curtain away and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Hello Bakugou, don’t move the curtain, I can’t look at your right now” I say honestly.

“Okay, at least put your hand through the curtain, Kiri’s here to.” He replies nudging the curtain. I sigh, it’s been 6 years and I can barely hold myself together with he thought of being back with my family but being a hero right now is what I need to do.

“Okay, but only quickly I have to get back” I whisper, and slowly put my right-hand backwords them. Instantly I can feel like touching my hand and kissing it.

“Can’t smell you omega, how come?” Kirishima asks.

“Stupid American pheromone blockers, I’ll take them off later at home, promise.” I say and pull my hand back to finish quickly and get back to my family and quickly as I can. I can hear both alphas walk away, and I pull my hand to my chest.

*********************************************

Hero-con is over, and I can finally come home. After we all graduated, everyone pulled their money together and we bought a huge house together which allowed all of us to live together as a pack. Before I left, I entered a relationship with Bakugou and Kirishima but now I do not know if they still want me in a dynamic with because they’ve been an Alpha/Alpha relationship for 6 years. I don’t’ even have a room anymore, Denki took it when I moved to America. There might be room, I think, Midoriya (A) and Todoroki (A/O) have a room, Sero (B) and Mina (B) have a room, Shinso (A), Jirou (B) and Denki (O) all have separate rooms even though they are together which leaves Bakugou (A) and Kirishima (A) who have the biggest room. I could always share with Denki until I find a new place, I say to myself as I knock on the front door.

I wait patiently, until the door is opened revealing a very excited Denki. Practically jumping on the spot.

“Y/N YOU’RE HOME.” He shouts while throwing himself into my arms. I hug back, I breath him in and tears start to fill my eyes.

“Oi sparky, you know the rules. She needs to follow the greetings as she’s been away for so long.” Says Bakugou with his arms crossed. I enter the house and look around seeing everyone in their groups. I cannot believe I am home.

I quickly great Mina and Sero first, presenting our pack mark and then onto hugs. Next, I go straight over to Shinso, presenting my neck to show I am not a threat to his omega or beta. Which he simply nods and as these dynamics, Shinso does not really care for. I great Jirou and then great Denki properly by touching our noses together. I approach Midoriya next as he used to be the main Alpha who brought us all together, I greeted him the same way as Shinso but instead Midoriya threw his arms around me puling me into a hug.

“Please never leave again, Bakugou’s been impossible” He whispers into my ear. I laugh looking over his shoulder to a very anger Bakugou. I turn to Todoroki who is half Omega/Alpha, I greet him the same way as Denki, I know he prefers that greeting than the alpha one. Its finally time to see if they still want me. Kirishima is practically beaming at Bakugou side. I approach with my head down; I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as I approach him. As he is lead Alpha, I must wait to see what he will do.

“Still can’t smell you omega.”  Bakugou announces loudly.

“There’s a pheromone implant in my neck, Alpha, see you can feel it.” I reply, taking his hand to my neck. In American you are not allowed to use pheromones in public, so for hero work you must use an implant to block it. Bakugou feels my neck and I can tell he is not happy. He grabs me by my neck, slamming me on the wall behind him. Everyone runs forward but Kirishima stands forward stopping them. Telling them it must happen and that Bakugou won’t hurt me, much.

With his claw Bakugou cuts into my neck to pull the impact out, I do not make a sound and only look at him in the eye. It must be done, and I know he will not hurt me. Once the implant is out. Bakugou lends forward and breathes me in. He hesitates, and calls Kirishima over. Kirishima looks between the two of use and breaths me in.

“Oh, y/n, you should’ve come home sooner.” Kirishima says, pulling me towards him for a hug.

“Please, Bakugou, get rid of the rest they can’t see me like this.” I whisper.

“Oi, extra’s don’t you have a party tonight. Your hotels have your clothes, now get lost.” Bakugou calls out, looking at them all. No one moves.

“NOW!” Bakugou yells, using his alpha voice and everyone leaves.

As soon as the door closes, I start to cry. Six years of being all alone hit me at once, yes it was my plan to be a strong hero, its hard to do it without your pack or alphas.

“The first sign of your omega depression, you should’ve come home little one.” Kirishima says whispering into my hair.

“How could I, I would’ve let you all down and all other omega’s out there without a voice, so what I had to go through omega depression….. more than once.” I say back looking up into Kirishima’s eyes. Bakugou stands beside us, looking slightly smaller.

“Bakugou, go run a bath,” Kirishima calls out and Bakugou follows his orders.

“Wait, what’s going on. Bakugou what are you doing” I ask, looking confused. Bakugou leans over the stairs to look at me.

“Kirishima’s the Alpha now, we’ll the others haven’t picked up on it yet because we haven’t publicly fought, but he’s been the main Alpha for a while now, I can’t be number one all the time now can I.” Bakugou replies with a smile. I look to Kirishima who still holds me but is beaming with love as he watches Bakugou. I try to pull away from his arms. It is stupid why did I think this would work. They do not want me anymore, I just know. Kirishima noticed how I suddenly changed but decided not to say anything.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and smelling natural.” He says, picking me up with no issues. He climbs the stairs and I place my head into his scent gland in his neck. I notice that neither him nor Bakugou do not have a claiming mark yet. Once we reach the top of the stairs, I see my old bedroom door and ask Kirishima to put my down, he walks ahead to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Which is their room.

“I’ll only stay for tonight, and then I’ll find somewhere else to live, I don’t even have a room here anymore.” I say to Kirishima which makes him freeze.

“Silly omega, come here.” He replies, gesturing me to follow. I start to hear the water running in their private bathroom. Kirishima opens the door and lets me enter the room first.

The first thing I can smell is the strong smell of Alpha but slowly a familiar smell enters, I look around the room and see my stuff. Things that I had left behind, my paintings, photos of the three of use. The queen size bed with three sets of pillows, big enough for all of us. I look around and notice a curtained canopy hiding something. I look to Kirishima who leans on the door frame by the Bathroom and nods. I breath in again and noticed the familiar smell but I am not able to pinpoint it yet.

I pull back to curtain and freeze. “Is that m..” I say unable to finish as I look down, tears filling my eyes. Bakugou comes out of the bathroom and leans on the opposite side to Kirishima. I look at the two of them and then look down at my old nest, they kept it, they really kept it. I can’t speak, only cry. Bakugou comes over to me and hold me bringing me towards the bathroom. Kirishima entered first. He began to undress and tied back his long hair, He entered the bath first, as Bakugou began to undress me as my emotions were betraying me at his moment. There was nothing sexual about this moment, it was about Alpha’s taking care of their Omega. Bakugou lifted me and lowered me into the water to sit in Kirishima’s lap, he quickly undressed and joined us.

I started to calm down, feeling I could now speak. “So, you mean, you have forgotten me, and you still want to be with me.” I ask looking down at my hands. Kirishima wraps his arms around me more and places his head into my scent gland breathing me in, tickling me slightly.

“Of course, silly omega, we’ve wanted you since the day you knocked me on my ass.” Bakugou replied leaning in to kiss me.

[backjustforberena]

And, thinking on it more, I think that's why I get a bit rankled and a bit frustrated when I see these criticisms of Rhaenys's character and of this relationship that paints Rhaenys as someone who thinks Rhaenyra, despite being involved in the death of her son, is somehow the greatest thing to walk the planet or calling her Rhaenyra's hype-woman or else being something almost sycophantic. Which then draws into question Rhaenys's intelligence or strength or willpower, as if Rhaenyra has somehow got power of dominance over Rhaenys.

Rhaenys is actually barely complimentary to Rhaenyra. She never goes out of her way to compliment her or idealise her or idolise her either. She doesn't use every chance she gets, the relationship isn't particularly warm or nurturing. She plays the role of advisor and she does it as it needs to be done. There are no warm smiles, no displays of affection, not even much in the way of encouragement.

I think there are two times (do inbox if I'm wrong) in which Rhaenys "defends" Rhaenyra's instincts to someone else. Both times are to Corlys. And both times are very much linked to Rhaenys's hopes and what Rhaenys wants to happen (or doesn't: dragon war). It's not about Rhaenyra as a person, it's about the practicalities.

The rest of the time that Rhaenys advocates for Rhaenyra in her absence: in 2x01, 2x03 and 2x04, it's tied to Rhaenyra's rank. It's protecting her agency and legitimacy as a Queen. Because, yes, whatever you think, these people are duty-bound to wait for Rhaenyra and also to treat her as they would a male monarch. Something that's very personal to Rhaenys, given her history. And again, not about Rhaenyra as a person. Especially because, in most cases when this is happening, Rhaenys is simply trying to keep control and order within the war effort.

And, not only is her support pretty objective to Rhaenyra as a person, but we have multiple instances of Rhaenys being less than impressed. The one scene we have of Rhaenys and Rhaenyra alone in Series 2, Rhaenys hasn't changed how she handles and speaks to Rhaenyra. There's no sense of becoming more demure or soft or flattering Rhaenyra. She actually pretty much reads Rhaenyra to filth, trying to get her to open her eyes and see the political landscape before them: as you permitted the murder of a little boy in his bed?

She's completely unapologetic because it's pursuant to her goals and her role as an advisor and warrior and council member. If Rhaenyra pushes back, then Rhaenys pushes. And I think Rhaenys feels herself to be absolutely key to keeping Rhaenyra standing and this whole thing from devolving: We will not let the Queen falter.

And, this is the kicker, for me. Rhaenys actually disparages Rhaenyra. She does so, in private, with Corlys. In 2x03, she says: Rhaenyra’s council is wayward. She has a hard task. I must hope she will rise to it, but I fear she’ll need you by her side sooner than late.

That's NOT a good review. That's not her saying that Rhaenyra is the best monarch Westeros has ever seen and all the blame is on the men. That's Rhaenys venting her worries that Rhaenyra has a hard task and there will be a good chance she'll fail. Or she'll need additional help, at least. It also just goes to show: Rhaenys MUST hope. She's got no other choice. But she's well aware of Rhaenyra's flaws and her weaknesses, so much so that she's contemplating asking Corlys to join her at the council. Something that, I think, she's deeply, deeply hesitant to ask of him.

Is there absolution between the women when it comes to Rhaenys saying she'll go to Rook's Rest? Yes. Yes, I think that is. But that's for Rhaenys's own soul. I think it's very specific to that moment and I think that it has to be reached then in order for it to mean anything. So it's not come before. I think that's key. There has been this tension and conflict and a sore between the women in the shape of their history together and Laenor and all of that, all throughout.

But it's at this moment where that's wiped clean so that Rhaenys has a purity of intention giving this last bit of advice and leaving Rhaenyra and going towards what is either figuratively or literally a point of no return. Because, no matter how you think about it, there is a connection there between these women. They've both worked so hard to try and avoid this point and now they're both key plays in making it happen: Rhaenyra is the Queen, Rhaenys is the warrior. And Rhaenys knows what she's about to do and what it will mean and what it might very well cost. Rhaenys leaves Rhaenyra with this last moment of wisdom because blimey, what else can she do?

I think it's profoundly messy and very interesting, the fact that the source for so much of Rhaenys's pain is Rhaenyra and that Rhaenyra is such a figure of contention and conflict, but circumstances have made it so that Rhaenyra actually has to become the thing that Rhaenys has to pin her hopes on. This very corrupted thing and relationship becomes the only thing that can save them all, really.

They're not mother and daughter. They're not friends. They've never had a scene, one-on-one without some level of personal or political conflict or wariness. But they're not and they can't be enemies either, despite all that history and the murder of Laenor sitting there between them. Rhaenys doesn't like Rhaenyra but does see her younger self in Rhaenyra. There is admiration there.

So, even that is just an extremely painful and exhausting state to be in. To defend a woman who has hurt you because it's the right thing to do and to not be able to clear the slate or address the pain because that actually works against you and what you want. She sees the pattern and the wheel and the history repeating and so she has to put all her eggs in that basket and fight as hard as she can to amend what happened to her and protect the people and the values that are precious to her.

She has to keep Rhaenyra as stable and as supported as she can, when there's probably an instinct to tear her down.

And, also, being the only person who can provide the support that Rhaenyra needs, and the only person who is doing that and trying to, consistently and constantly because the kids are too young, Rhaenyra can't lean on or get support from her own husband for goodness' sake, the men around her are disrespectful and have their own agendas, Corlys is distrusting and also still healing from his own injury, so that counts him out. There's no one else who can be the support that Rhaenyra needs and so it's all left on Rhaenys.

That's immense pressure on her to just... not react. Not be emotional. Not melt down or get personal or let anything get in the way of the job she has to do which, in her mind, is to give them the best and most rational chance of de-escalation and victory.

I find that so compelling. Much more compelling than a simple mentor/mentee, mother/daughter style of relationship with no animosity or complexity. This woman dies for a woman she'd love to ostracise.

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Alex Danvers wasn’t phased by much. Had she expected to get an alien sister? No. But she went along with it (eventually) and was a good sister. Had she expected to get recruited by a government agency? No. But that was fine, and she was good at her job. Had she expected to be gay? Also no. But she accepted it and she was… well she was a disaster on that front, but she was happy.

The one time that she possibly, maybe, perhaps faltered a little, and thought, ‘this cannot possibly be my life now’, however, was during the months after the arrival of one Lena Luthor to National city.

———

“Alex! I broke Lena Luthor’s chair!”

Alex whirled around to see Supergirl anxiously striding towards her through the DEO, whisper-shouting her name. “You did what?”

Kara came to a stop in front of her, nervously wringing her hands. “I broke Lena Luthor’s chair.”

Alex blinked. “How? I thought you and Clark were just interviewing her?”

“We were! I was just standing behind one of the chairs in front of her desk and holding the back of it and then she looked at me and I wasn’t expecting it and a bit of the chair just kind of broke off in my hand. I tried to squish it back into place and tucked the chair under the desk but I think you might be able to tell if you looked too closely.”

Alex sighed. “Okay. Don’t worry, I’ll get it fixed.”

Kara deflated with relief and grinned. “Thanks Alex.”

Ten minutes later, Alex phoned the L-corp lobby with an excuse to get Lena down there while J’onn phased through her balcony door and swapped the very obviously hand-shaped-dented chair with a new one that would hopefully go unnoticed. She had naively thought that that would be the end of it.

———

A week and a half later, Alex got a panicked phone call from Kara claiming that she had seen Lena at a restaurant and stayed to have brunch with her but there was now a large chunk of table missing from where they had been sitting, caused by Lena laughing at one of her jokes. Suspicion had begun to creep into the back of Alex’s mind but she was too exasperated to pay it any attention.

Kara said she had managed to cover it up with an empty bread basket and persuade Lena they should go to see the crepe stand that had been at the park recently.

Alex, Winn and James had arrived at the restaurant half an hour later in fake uniforms and a fake van, claiming a table replacement had been ordered by the restaurant management. They quickly set up the new table and took away the cornerless one along with the piece of wood that had Kara’s fingerprints permanently embedded in it.

———

Over the next few months, they replaced glasses, vases, windows, tables, chairs, various cutlery, and an array of annoyingly abstract decorations that had to be specially 3D printed because no replacements existed.

A new section of the DEO budget had to be put aside, labelled ‘Cleanup’, and the superfriends became unofficially known as ‘The Cleanup Squad’ (although Winn only said it out loud once, given Alex’s thinly veiled threat afterwards).

It wasn’t until Alex witnessed one of the events that preceded the need for The Cleanup Squad that her subconscious suspicions hit her like the ton of bricks they would have to fix.

It was a standard game night with a shot too many and a brain cell too few, all of them shouting over a game of two truths one lie, when the delivery guy arrived with their food.

Kara went to get the door while Lena had her go. That was the first mistake.

Kara had been sneaking alien alcohol into her drink for the past hour.

Lena’s third sentence was ‘I’m more often attracted to women than men’.

Kara’s foot went through her floorboards with a crunch and she stumbled into her front door, making the whole wall tremble worryingly. Alex shouted out one of the other sentences as a guess to distract Lena from looking behind her to see what the noise was. That was the next mistake.

Kara took the food from a slightly confused looking delivery guy, thanking him and checking the bags as he walked away, as Lena cheered, wine sloshing around in her glass.

“Alex wins! Women are hot and I like to kiss them.”

The door came off its hinges in Kara’s hand and as she went to correct her mistake she smashed it into the doorframe with enough force to bring down a plane. The door, doorframe and half the wall collapsed to the floor, leaving a shellshocked Kara among the rubble, holding a useless doorknob.

Nia slung her arm across Lena’s shoulders to stop her turning around again and cheered. “Woohoo! That’s great! Hey can you teach me how to win at Monopoly?”

Lena frowned. “But only half of us have had a go at-”

“Yeah! You guys set up Monopoly while I go get snacks with James.” Alex not-so-subtly dragged James up with her, glaring at Winn. “What about you, Winn?”

He jumped up with a nervous laugh. “I need the toilet! Yep!”

They all scurried off to where Kara was just standing and blinking. Alex took the food and doorknob from her hands, putting the food on the counter and the doorknob in a nearby vase while Winn and James started haphazardly piling bricks back up into a wall-ish shape. Nia and Brainy seemed to be going through every single Monopoly card and asking Lena about it in a kind of terrifyingly over enthusiastic pop quiz.

Kara snapped out of her daze and began helping as Alex sent a message to the DEO to get a new door there as quickly as possible. She dragged Kara out into the hall and made her laservision off the entire door and doorframe of her neighbour who was luckily currently on holiday. While Kara did that, she kicked the old bits of door and brick dust under a rug in the hall.

Kara fit the new door into the hole that James and Winn were leaving, blowing her freezebreath over the whole wall to freeze it all in place for the time being.

Before she could go back inside, Alex grabbed Kara by the arm. She raised an eyebrow at Kara’s confused look. “Want to explain what just happened?”

Kara blushed and glanced at (or probably through) the door. “I um… I just got distracted by the food.”

“So it was nothing to do with Lena openly admitting she’s bisexual?”

Kara blanched. “I- wha- pff no.”

Alex rolled her eyes and opened the door to let Kara through before she broke anything else.

They all moved back over to the living room area as casually as possible, Winn setting out the food.

Alex leaned down to speak quietly to Kara before she sat down herself. “You know you can talk to me right?”

Kara nodded shyly and she let it go.

———

The last operation The Cleanup Squad did, it was Nia that called.

Alex sat up in bed, having only just managed to fall asleep, and picked up her phone. “Hello?”

“Alex? Kara’s about to break Lena’s coffee table.”

Alex sighed and waved away Kelly’s questioning look. “Okay. I’ll call J’onn.”

Ten minutes later, Alex was hanging onto J’onn like a backpack as he hovered just under Lena’s balcony with a replacement table.

There was a crash from inside.

“What was that?” Lena’s voice came from somewhere further inside her apartment and J’onn floated up to peer through the windows.

“Nothing! Just… a video on my phone.”

Alex’s phone buzzed with what was presumably the panicked text she just watched Kara send.

Kara went further into the apartment, rambling to Lena about how they should get into their pjs before they watch the next movie.

J’onn alighted on the balcony and they quietly made their way inside. J’onn cleared the broken table into a bag and flew off to dispose of it while Alex set down the new one.

Just as she was putting into place, Lena wandered into the room. Their eyes met briefly before Lena turned towards her kitchen, filled a glass of water, and left again, as though she hadn’t seen anything.

J’onn was back in the next moment and they disappeared back out into the night.

———

Lena opened the door with a smile and stepped aside to let Alex in. “Alex. What can I do for you?” She shut the door and led her over to the kitchen. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee please.”

Alex sat down at Lena’s kitchen island, thinking about how to phrase what she was going to say while Lena made them both a coffee.

Lena set a mug down in front of her and sat down across the island, waiting patiently for Alex to start talking.

“Do you know?”

Lena smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I know lots of things.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do you know about what we’ve been doing?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Danvers.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I know you saw me last night, Luthor. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena smiled and shook her head. “Alex, I have the most high tech security system in the world and an IQ that is most definitely higher than a five year old, and even a five year old would be able to notice you lot trying to rebuild furniture around them. Did you really think I didn’t notice? You replaced a $1000 chair with Ikea furniture.”

Alex went to defend herself but just deflated. “Yeah. Sorry.” She swirled her spoon through the coffee foam. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

Lena shrugged. “She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

Alex watched her for a moment and smiled. Yeah. She was pretty sure she’d be her sister-in-law one day.

———

“Alex?”

She pushed past Kara into her apartment. “I think you should tell Lena.”

Kara blushed and stuttered as she closed the door. “Wha- I- There’s nothing to tell!”

Alex frowned at the odd reaction before she realised what Kara thought she meant and rolled her eyes. “No not that. Well… that too. But that’s not what I meant. I think you should tell her about Supergirl.”

Kara gaped at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. She proved beyond a doubt that she’s trustworthy and I can see how much you two mean to each other.”

Kara bit her lip, looking down and wringing her hands together. “But what if… what if she hates me for it?”

Her eyes were so big and sad and scared when she looked back up that Alex immediately wrapped her in a hug. “That’s not going to happen, okay? And the rest of us are here for you whatever happens. You know that, right?”

Kara nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

———

Kara stood outside Lena’s office, trying to drag her courage back from where it had run to hide, and wiping her sweaty palms on her slacks.

The door opened and Lena hesitantly poked her head out. “You doing okay out here?”

Kara gave a strangled laugh and nodded unconvincingly.

Lena stepped out of her office to join Kara in the corridor. “Okay, well, do you want to tell me why you’ve been standing out here for the past ten minutes?”

She gulped, breathing getting a little faster.

“Hey, hey it’s okay.”

Lena took her hand, stroking her thumb across her knuckles gently. It calmed her down a little and she sighed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down it, hand slipping out of Lena’s.

Lena came and sat on the floor beside her, offering her hand again.

Kara gladly tangled their fingers together, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, my hand’s a little sweaty.”

Lena laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “That’s okay.”

Kara sighed and brought her other hand up to her glasses. “Lena, I-” She closed her eyes and removed her glasses with a shaky hand.

She felt gentle fingers take them from her grasp and opened her eyes to watch Lena carefully fold them up and place them on the floor beside them. She looked at Kara with a soft smile. She reached up and traced the same fingertips across Kara’s cheek, making her eyes flutter closed.

“I know.”

Kara’s eyes snapped open. “You did?”

She nodded.

“Oh. Well now I feel like I’ve made you sit out here on the floor with me for nothing.”

Lena laughed, her eyes and nose crinkling adorably, and Kara couldn’t stop herself from smiling even as her heart beat faster.

“Well since you already knew I was Supergirl, I feel like I should tell you a different secret. Like how I think I’m in love with you.”

Lena’s breath hitched, eyes flitting between Kara’s as they subconsciously leaned slowly closer. “You think?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Lena’s eyes followed. “I know.”

“Good. Because I am definitely in love with you.”

Any other thoughts melted away when their lips met. Kara’s hand automatically slid to Lena’s waist as Lena pressed closer, soft and warm and perfect.

There was a crunch and Kara fell backwards a little, accidentally pulling Lena so she was almost in her lap, as she made a hole in the wall with her back. They broke apart giggling, resting their foreheads together.

“Sorry.”

Lena kissed her again but they were both smiling too much for it to last long. “At least you don’t have to call Alex everytime you break something around me now.”

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Yayy! Requests from one of my fave writers are open💕💕💕

Soo, I’ve had this fic idea for quite some time in my mind and it could be interesting. I would love to see a Dazai x Fem!Reader where the reader is a new member of the agency and have been work partners for quite some time with Dazai. The reader feels insecure because Dazai doesn't do his usual flirty stuff to her, but that's only because Dazai doesn't know how to deal with the feeling of real love, and one day, they have a painful talk about it (which starts with the reader confronting him about this when he asks what’s wrong, maybe?)- I would love for this to go from angst to fluff, thank you so much 💔💕

Awwww! I'm a favorite writer of yours! Thank you for such a generous compliment!

My belladonna |Dazai x Female Reader|

Warnings: dazai’s typical thoughts, long fic

Words: 2,385

I worked hard on this one, so I hope you like it. The fluff does take a bit but I assure you the fluff at the end is worth the angst!

Love, a humane concept many never give a second thought towards. What is love exactly? Is it the feeling of being happy which is caused by another? Then what separates love from a deep underlying friendship? Is it the fluttering tightness in your chest? Could it be the sweat and discomfort that forms near somebody you supposedly love? Was love only something a sane person who understands the meaning behind being human can feel and understand? Love raises so many questions it’s better to ignore all contact, to avoid anything that could lead to falling deeper. 

Dazai had never put so much of his mind's capabilities onto a feeling before. He’d never wondered what love meant. His eyes stared off beyond the clouds as he thought about his recent missions with her. She was always so different from the other women he knew or had met over the years. The way she made her presence known in the room, or how her body seemed to be the last thing he noticed. That was important, at least when looking at Dazai. Dazai was not a man of the gentlemen variety. He actually rather impolite, some could say disgusting. He was, after all, a womanizer. It was no unknown fact he slept around, flirted, and even treated women with disrespect. Yet here she was, the newest member of the agency, his current partner. He could hardly glance her way without being star-struck. His eyes would nearly reflect the look of a teenage boy lost in a fantasy. He imagined what her voice would sound like, saying I love you, thank you, you're welcome. He imagined what goodbye embraces and welcome back embraces would feel like. Imagined her kindness, pointed and focused on him. All of this made him confused, he’d never been here before. Nobody in all his miserable years had ever strayed his thoughts to such territory. To avoid confronting the feelings that may or may not spook him, he ignored her. He treated her like he would any other co-worker. He never once asked her his questions of the suicidal manor. He never once flirted with her, he hardly talked to her.

You grew to notice these things over time. The way he avoided you; like you were some disaster waiting to happen. The way he flirted with almost every other woman besides you. Every time you worked by his side, the pain only increased. The thud of your own heart kept you from falling over the pain. Every time he glanced another's way, felt like another dagger stabbed to your side. Thoughts of what if’s eventually circled within your head. Asking yourself if you had done something to insult him. Even his coworkers couldn’t give you a solid answer to Dazai’s behavior. No matter what you did for him, he never seemed to show an ounce of care in your direction. He didn’t touch the gifts you gave him, no matter what they were. Even if they were tips on his little obsession with suicide, he ignored them. He couldn’t face you in person either. Unless you worked together, he hardly spoke to you. 

Like any sane person, you couldn’t handle it anymore. A confrontation was called for.

~

Beneath the moonlight, as the hours of the agency closed and Dazai stayed behind, you fell back to have privacy with him. Even as the others left and bid you good luck with confronting him, you stayed put. It wasn’t that Dazai stayed late to work, he stayed late to make sure everything was alright with the agency, and to grab any leftover coffee/food from the day. He hadn’t expected to run into you as he attempted to leave with a few bags of collected things, stolen things. The moonlight glimmered against your reflection, illuminating your every feature. His eyes instantly darted from you to the door. Unsure how to respond, he let the atmosphere settle in, despite the awkwardness. “We need to talk.” Your voice despite the slight aggravation was more than angelic to him.

Putting on a smile, he raised a brow to play off the thudding pound of his heart. “Oh? We do, did something come up?” he sounded almost nervous, but he masked it enough to hide it from you.

Another silence folded over the two. With every moment, Dazai became less and less comfortable. Being in her presence was enough to send his mind whirling with confusing thoughts again. Her own nerves were starting to act up. Having to hold her hands behind her back as she fidgeted. Within the dimly lit room, illuminated by a few lights and the moon, they stood. Neither of them spoke, afraid of what came after the silence.

That was until your voice picked up from the silence. Shattering it with a soft echo. Speaking with a meek voice, you asked Dazai about his recent behavior with you. “Do you hate me?” The words slipped with ease, but hurt to speak. Afraid, he'll choke on his answer and tell you that you had done something to harm his ego, or that he didn’t find you interesting.

Dazai’s hands slid into his pockets, clenching together tightly. “No, why would you think I hate you?” he spoke clearly with no hint of nervous hesitation or lies. Yet, you could not believe him. Within his body language, the lack of eye contact, the unsure tilt of the head, the slip of his hands to his pockets, it all told you he was hiding something. 

Exhaling as calmly as you could to calm your nervous chatter, you spoke up again. “Look at me then.” You hissed the words, your own eyes darting to look away from him.

Dazai froze before his head slowly shook. “I can’t,” he mumbled. His voice losing the usual confident, cocky tone as he spoke. There was no childish intent, no cocky extent, no humor to his voice. It was bland with nervous fear.

“Because you don’t like me.” Saying the words out loud made the knives that struck through turn into poisonous bullets. Each word, each realization had the initial sting of a bullet, but left a thudding emptiness, the poison.

“I don't,” he whispered. Though his voice cracked in a waiver. His breathing unsteady to match your own rapid breaths. His heart pounded with a fear he’d never felt before. His heart, his mind, it was still too confusing. He didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend this feeling.

“Yes, you do! You treat every other woman the same! I wouldn’t mind if you just… if you just didn’t flirt, but you… you won’t even look at me!” with every pause and stutter, the pain grew. With every pause, your voice picked up. The ocean of emotion you had left untouched and sealed, starting to unravel and make sense. 

“... I…” Dazai had no reply to your words. His head screamed at him to reach out and grab hold of you. To drop down and do as he always did. Another half of him told him to pull something else. To pull out a gift and woo you with flowers and soft praises. He didn’t understand how to truly appreciate this feeling or how to acknowledge it. He wants so much revolving around you, but he didn’t know what to do. Not even his words could form a snarky comeback or an excuse. He couldn’t pull the usual words like, you’re just too stunning to look at. 

Watching his silence, and the only word he spit be a single vowel, you shook your head. The emotional fire within your chest letting go. You turned towards the door rather dramatically. Your hand grasping the handle in a swift motion. “You’re a selfish bastard Dazai. You’re a selfish bastard. Letting women fall in love only to rip their hearts from their chests. I knew you were one of those men, yet I still… I still gave it to you.” Dropping the anger and the loudness of your voice you spoke softly. With slight drips of venom being used to cover the pain consuming you.

He watched her pull the door open in one single movement. His eyes traced her movements as the door slammed. The words she spoke took what felt like millennia to make sense. He kept trying to make sense of her words, he didn’t understand any of them. He couldn’t until he took into thought his own heart. He stopped trying to make sense, and rather let his heart make sense of it. Understanding human emotions, understanding what made humans… Well, humans, was never his forte. Not a second later, his eyes shot wide and his lips parted with shock. A new thought he’d never understand crossing his restless mind. “Why, why would she love me?” he shook away the thought, reaching for the handle of the door and flinging it open. Never in his life had he been the one doing the chase, yet here he was doing just that. His feet carried him down the stairs and out of the building. The slow patter of the rain provides a dramatic splatter when his feet hit the cold cement. His breaths formed white puffs of air as he skidded to a stop. Thinking back to missions, recalling the sentences he’d tried to ignore. The things about her he tried to ignore. The invitations to walk. The way she came up behind him, trying to interact while he ignored her. Without having to recall much, his feet swerved to the left and ran. His feet slid here and there over the slippery gravel, the mud, and sharp turns. His gut led him instead of his mind. For once, he was trusting his instincts. The park his heart shouted. The first time he’d truly fallen for her, the smile she gave him on her first day. It was love at first sight. Love, admitting it was really such a humane feeling was terrifying. Yes, he’d always wanted to understand humanity, but starting with something that could end in flames or bliss... was no more terrifying than standing over the ledge of a cliff. 

As your feet came to a sudden halt, you found yourself at the park. Remembering the way he looked and acted when you first joined brought more water to gather along with the rain. Slipping down onto the bench, covered with the sky's tears, you curled your legs into your chest. Burying your face into your knees, you swore to yourself this wouldn’t happen again. You had been a fool, hadn't you? A fool to love a man like Dazai. Somebody obsessed with suicide and willing to flirt with every woman his eyes caught. Slowly, the rain began to pick up its pace. The moon reflected in puddles where the mud could no longer soak up its water.

He searched the area for a while despite the quickening pace of the rain. As his eyes settled against your drenched form, the way you cuddled against yourself, his heart cracked. His arms slipped from his jacket despite it being somewhat wet. While he was nervous, he snuck up behind you and rested his coat on your shoulders. He took a seat at the other end of the bench. Pulling his knees to his chest, he decided to finally share why he’d been so distant and a jerk towards you. “I was scared. I ignored, avoided, and pretended to not notice you because I was afraid.” Your glance was doubtful, after all, when was he ever scared of something? “Doubting me? I get why, I'm never scared, that's what you think right?" there was a small nod from your head, but it caused him to sigh. “I do get scared, emotions scare me. Feeling human, it’s what I want, I want to understand what it is to be human, but starting out with this… it’s terrifying.” Watching as you didn’t respond but look away, he let out a frustrated groan.

“Just, leave me alone Dazai.” Your whispers hurt. The pain reflected in your words hurt more than any wound he’d ever found himself inflicted with. He hated pain and suffering, and that’s what this was.

“I can’t, I won’t not anymore. I… fuck, I don’t understand it. I don’t… it’s hard to admit things like this belladonna… I fell in love. I don’t know how to deal with whatever this is!” His words came rushed and panicked. His hands found their way into his hair, tangling with the drenched locks. Thunder thudded softly in the sky as lightning crackled. 

Your hand reached your eyes as you shook your head. “Please, please stop it. Don’t call me that! You don’t mean it. Stop trying to just make yourself feel better.” You whispered the words again until he forcefully brought your head to meet his chest. He held you tightly, running his hand over your back as he rocked back and forth. 

“I’m not lying, not playing games. You’re amazing in every way possible. I still can’t understand why you'd like me.” Dazai whispered the words next to your ear. Holding you within the rain until your body stopped its trembles. What you did next shocked him more than any action that went outside his predictions did. Your lips planted themselves on his. At first, it seemed you were unsure about this. He didn’t kiss back at first, when he made his mind up, it was too late. You had pulled away ready to collect excuses. Before your lips could part with said excuses, his hands moved and cupped your face. His lips came crashing down on yours. He’d never felt this before, a spark, a real feeling in a kiss. When the two of you needed air, he moved away with a slight smile. “We should… get out of the rain before we both catch a cold.”

Blushing you tugged on the fabric of his clothes, telling him to lift you. “Yeah, we should, Kunikida would kill us both if we get sick.” You chuckled lightly, sniffling as Dazai lifted you into his arms. 

“Remind me where your place is again?” with a snicker, you told him the address and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep while he carried you. “I love you, belladonna.”

[bakugohoex]

“probably married to this dumbass”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: pro hero (aged up) fluff, language, implied 18+ and kissing 

word count: 2600+

a/n: i was in the mood to write some bakugo i have three requests atm so if you guys want to send in more i’ll write someee

summary: in which you and bakugo get interviewed on a talk show on what it’s like being pro hero, what turns into a simple where do you see yourself in five years leads to your relationship being announced on live tv

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

You and Bakugo were in love, you knew it, your friends knew it. The people of Japan however had no idea, you were seen just as partners on patrols when out and about. They had no idea of the lewd things Bakugo whispered in your ear as you tried to make sure there was no crime going on. His aim of being the number one hero was becoming a reality, his personality from UA had changed, he may still be the loud explosive man, but he was sometimes kind to civilians. You stress the sometimes.

He would help people get up and tell them off for falling, his logic made sense, but you still loved him even if half the time he was screaming. You had both been asked to be on a talk show that aired at night so nothing you and Bakugo ever saw as you spent many hours at your shared apartment fucking.

It was a love language for the shouty man, and you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t love coming home to be pinned against a wall. Feeling ever so small under his gaze filled with lust and love.

“You’re telling me, me and Y/n have to be on a fucking show.” He hollered at one of the girls who was currently interning.

“Don’t shout Katsuki.” You mutter giving a more sympathetic look to the poor girl. “It might be fun.”

“Fun.” He raised as eyebrow shouting, as he dragged you to a secluded area of the hero agency. “Fun would be making you beg for my dick; this is not my idea of fun princess.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment as his arm rested on the wall, he leaned further and further towards you. “If we go then tomorrow we get the day off.” You move your finger up his arm to his shoulder, “we can do whatever you want to do.”

You were taunting him; he gave a smirk however falling right into it. You couldn’t lie you wanted to get dressed up and gain some attention. “Whatever I want yeah.”

“Whatever you want baby.” You cooed as he smirked, he watches as your hands moved to his hero costume, his exposed neck as you brushed your finger across it about to move it to his lip to brush against.

He quickly walks away as you huff as the lack of contact, not even a kiss goodbye. You followed as you saw him storm to the girl who looked scared for her life, he must’ve said an okay as she gave a small smile to you. You smiled back before Bakugo came back.

“It’s at 7, they want us to look nice for the reputation of the agency or whatever.” He crosses his arms leaning against the desk you had leant against.

You were all giddy now, happy that you were able to look pretty, even with your very much exposed hero costume due to your quirk needing more skin contact, you still wanted to feel pretty in something that you didn’t associate with hero work. “I know you’re happy to look all amazing, but even if you turned up in a bin bag you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room, dumbass”

When Bakugo spoke you instantly blushed at his comment, he was never one to outright praise you with hero work, but as soon as it came to your relationship and making you happy he was always one to compliment you, even with it ended with him calling you dumbass. But at least you were his dumbass.

You had been made to choose from a couple dresses as they wanted you to look drop dead gorgeous, you chose a red one that matched Bakugo’s eyes as it hugged your body and went to the ground, it had thin straps and you couldn’t lie and say that if Bakugo saw you in this he would want to tear it right off.

You had been told someone would do your make up at the show’s base, and to Bakugo’s dismay the two of you had been separated. Being guided to the base, you sat down eagerly as you saw women and men surrounding you, they did your hair and your make up effortlessly making you look like an absolute goodness. 

They were really pulling out the stops for this one thing, it was rare for you to do talk shows as you were more into interviews that were pre recorded and edited. Live ones were more Deku’s and Bakugo’s thing though.

“You look gorgeous.” The same girl who had told you about the talk show spoke as she held the dress out.

“Thank you.” You smiled back as you put the dress on, you had worn the necklace that Katsuki had got you which had the letter K on it assuming people would think it was anybody’s name and not the man who in a couple minutes would walk out with you.

A red bracelet wrapped around your wrist as you wore a couple rings on your fingers, the promise one encasing your ring finger, it had a small gem in the middle of the gold band and you had refused to take it and your necklace off as it meant so much to you.

Before you knew it was nearly time to go and you saw as Bakugo huffed walking in with a man, Bakugo was for sure not paying attention as the red button up adorned his chest and black trousers clinged to his legs. He had left the top two buttons open, wearing similar rings to you with the black ring you had gotten him around his own ring finger. It was small and thin but inside had your name inscribed in it, he loved it and would wear it with anything, the feeling of it around your throat always sent shivers down your spine.

As soon as he noticed you standing in front of him, he was dumbfounded, he couldn’t even speak, looking at you up and down. He walked towards you putting his arms around your waist, “You’re too gorgeous to resist princess.” You blush as he turns you around so he can get a better view of you.

He loved the sight in front of him, your confident nature was brought out through the dress, everything about the way you looked defined you and it made him fall even more in love with you.

The girl from earlier had gestured for the both of you to go in, Bakugo let go of your waist, missing the touch of your hips on his ever-irritated cock. You both smiled as you saw that there was even a live audience. Bakugo walked in like he owned the place as you just kept straight not wanting to trip in the heels they had made you wear.

“Welcome both of you, come sit, sit.” She gestured as there was a long couch waiting for the two of you, Bakugo let you go first as you sat closest to the host and Bakugo sat beside you, your legs touching as his arm wrapped to the back of the couch, ever so relaxed. “So, we have Pro Heroes Dynamight and (your hero name), better known as Katsuki Bakugo and Y/n Y/L/N.”

You smiled at her as Bakugo didn’t speak or look at her, he had been dragged in this due to thinking with his downstairs brain at the heat of the moment. But seeing how happy you looked in the dress how could he ever have said no to you?

“So, first off we need to know what got you to want to become heroes.”

“Katsuki.” You mutter if he wanted to talk first, you noticed that in a lot of these live stuff he liked talking a lot, but his normal chatty nature had changed as if he was in a trace and the cause was most definitely you. “Okay well, it’s probably the most basic reason but I saw a hero save someone and I instantly fell in love with the idea of saving and helping people.”

You knew it was common for many heroes to have this sort of epiphany, you heard Bakugo speak as he sat up right, “All Might of course, from seeing him I knew I wanted to be number one hero.”

He had a calmer demeanour trying not to shout or get as pissed off as he usually did, you smiled at him as he looked down at your body again. “Do you have any advice to any kids out there who want to be heroes?”

“Work hard and even if it doesn’t work out at first you’ll still be a hero in your own way.” You smile out.

Bakugo laughs at the comment, he knew you were being nice for the show as he knew what you’d have really said, “If you suck, you suck, get strong or you’ll die.” Your eyes grow wide at his bluntness.

“Katsuki.” You scowled at him as the host and the audience laugh, you hit his chest feeling his hard muscles underneath.

“It’s the truth Y/n, you started to sugar-coat stuff.” He raises an eyebrow as he leans back again.

The host continues to ask questions as you answer enticingly as Bakugo makes remarks that lift the comfort of the room, you had finally becoming comfortable, the host asking about UA. “So, we heard that you two went to UA together, were you two friends, did you get along?”

Bakugo was the first one to speak, you two had been dating since UA and had kept it a secret from everyone except for Class 1A, as soon as the dorm system had been implemented it made it a lot easier to be around each other and one by one the class found out. Even with continuing dating after graduating they all knew you had remained strong together and it was a surprise nobody had found out on the amount of dates you two went on.

“Yeah we were friends I guess; we were in the same class and spent time with the class together.” He smiled as he thought of the days were you’d both sneak into each other’s rooms to be able to cuddle at night. His taller frame always encasing you in love. “She was a pain back then though.”

You glare at the boy before you interrupt up him, “me a pain, I distinctly remember you pissing off everybody.”

You laughed as he glared back at you, “seems like you two really are the best friends everybody talks about.” You nodded as to try and not blow your secret relationship. “Now for the finally question of the night, where do both of you see each other in five years?”

You had never been asked something like this, you were only in your early twenties and five years is a substantial difference now then it was in your teens. Where would you be? Would you and Bakugo remain strong with you still be partners would Bakugo be the number one hero. You carefully thought trying to get a satisfactory answer out.

Well you had clearly been thinking because Bakugo blurted out the words nobody had expected, “probably married to this dumbass.”

Your head shot as he had his arm around the couch still, his legs spread as if he was waiting for you to sit on his lap. “K…Katsuki.” Realisation hit him as it made his mouth went dry.

The host looked before the two of you noticing, how Bakugo’s arm moved to behind your back, your legs touching, the K necklace around your neck and the look of love that surrounded the two of you.

“You two are dating?” She asks.

He gives a look to you as you nod at the idiot, “Yeah since our UA days, isn’t that right princess, you were always obsessed with me.” The nickname rolling off his tongue as your face flushed a bright pink.

“Katsuki you liar.” You mutter, the mic still picking up on it as you could hear it play on the speakers.

“That is adorable, you two are such a cute couple.” The host coos as you smile at her.

“Yeah we might be cute but dating his is like dating a kid.” You laugh as you were trying to get back at Bakugo for embarrassing you.

“I expect it would be” The host smiles as the audience still hadn’t said anything only watching at you two. She wrapped the show up as you could almost hear your phone go off in the other room.

The host said goodbye to you both as the audience watched intensively as they walked out, “you and your big mouth.” You mutter to Bakugo as he grabs your hand walking you to the side.

“But now we can go on dates anytime we want now, idiot.” He laughs.

You shrug as he still held your hand, not bothering to change he grabs your bag and clothes as he takes his own, passing you your phone as he remained holding hands with you. “Twitter has gone mad.”

“Yeah cause two sex god’s have been dating and they never knew.” He smirks as you push into his side.

“Mr and Mrs Bakugo, there’s a car waiting outside for you.” You almost choke on the name as you look at one of the producers.

“It’s Miss Y/L/N.” You spoke softly but she hadn’t heard as Bakugo grinned at the thought.

“Come on Mrs Bakugo, our cars waiting.” You wanted to rip his throat out, as you both walked outside.

Fans around the both of you as Bakugo put an arm tightly around you, he didn’t want this to happen, but he basked in all the attention. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

He grins looking down at you as he goes to you ear, “It’s because tomorrow you won’t be doing any walking at all.”

Your face reddens at what he said, the sex addicted Bakugo was too comfortable and having said that in front of fan only made your face blush even more. He opened the door for you as you got in, he followed as he sat right beside you, the driver taking you to your apartment.

“We could always have some fun here.” You watching his hands move across your thigh, slowly getting higher and higher at every touch.

“You’re such a perv Bakugo.” You hissed slapping his hand, his quirk created little sparkles as he lifted your dress up, putting his hand inside as he grabbed your thigh. The hotness making your legs shuffle at the closeness it had to your pussy.

“Your perv though princess.” His antics continued and before you knew it you were inside the elevator to your apartment, his hands around your waist as his chin rested on top of your head. “I love you.”

He spoke calmly for once without any snideness or ulterior motive. “I love you too.” You reply back as you turned to face him, your hands wrapping around his neck as you leant in and kissed him, his arms wrapping around your waist, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer towards his body, he groped at your hips as he moves to your ass, squeezing it through the thin material. The elevator opened up as his teeth bit into your bottom lip as you retracted, the feeling of him remaining on you.

You knew what was going to occur for the next day and you knew you certainly weren’t prepared for losing the ability to walk for the next week. But as he watched you look gorgeous in the dress you watched over him with the same love and lust. You were perfect for each other and nothing would ever change that.

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