#also man and women are great! i'm not going to abandon such useful words

[undercat-overdog]

Ok, I said in this post that I wanted to talk about POV and what different characters would use for their species; I've been thinking about it for a while, because it's important to me to portray Elves as thinking of themselves as the default and I like having them think of mortals as different, as a way of worldbuilding and establishing POV. It's the same basic principle as why I think the War of the Elves and Sauron is a Númenórean name, not an Elvish one.

In brief: man and woman can and should be used to refer to Elves when writing from an elven POV.

I think about markedness a lot when I think about writing generally, and one of the concepts is that there are things that are unmarked, the standard, the default, the normal, the unexceptional. To an elf, the default species is elf, not human or dwarf or ent. I want to write from that POV - to an elf, humans are different, even alien. They're other. Elves are us, humans are them.

I, meanwhile, am writing in English, and man and woman are common words, the most "unmarked" words for the concepts; they're standard (e.g., woman sounds more normal than female human). Something like elf woman or female elf is more marked. Why would an elf use a more marked term to refer to their own race? Using she-elf or whatever for Elves but woman for humans uses more marked words (more uncommon, more specific, etc) for elves than it does for humans - but for elves, it should be the opposite! Elves are unmarked! Elves are default! Humans are different. If an elf is talking about someone, the default assumption would be that the someone is an elf, so if they're not an elf, it would be specified.

So when writing from the POV of an elven character, I would use woman for a female elf and mortal woman for a female human (if necessary to disambiguate). Man, meanwhile, means "Human" when it's capitalized and male when it's not. (Now, if I were writing from a human or dwarven pov, I would use elven woman, if necessary to specify that she's an elf.)

But, you say, what about using Elvish words? Well, first of all, I hate it. We're not writing in Quenya. English is great, and so are the other human languages people use to write fanfic. But that is a subjective matter of taste and you may disagree! Nothing wrong with that, de gustibus, etc.

More objectively, nér and nis are not words specific to Elves; nér means all males, so using it for specifically elf men and not human and dwarven men is incorrect (to quote Elfdict, "Nér can be used regardless of species and so is equally applicable to male Elves, Men, or Dwarves, but is unlikely to be used of male animals, for which the word [ᴹQ.] hanu is more applicable."") (Sindarin is a little more complicated, given the more complex out-of-universe changes, but it too has race-neutral terms for man and woman.)

Lastly, Tolkien himself uses man and woman to refer to non-human species. He calls Galadriel and Finduilas women, and Aredhel is "taller than a woman's wont." Earendil is a man (though he is not a Man) and Curufin is a horseman and there are lots and lots of kinsmen and kinswomen. Hobbits meanwhile, in Appendix F, have "women" and "man-children" (Tolkien is talking about how Hobbits name babies, thus the children part, but I like to think he's getting one more dig in at Pippin).

[post-maester]

I'm stuck in a bit of a pickle at the moment. I've been a little kinda sorta completely fucking gutted by the election results. I feel so utterly saddened for 2SLGBTQIA+ people, BIPOC, women, people with disabilities who now have to live beneath that man's shadow.

Among the sadness is an ache.

An ache to do something. An ache to take action of some kind. I have no idea what kind yet, but I can't stop thinking about it. I am brewing. Do I mean to create something? I don't know yet. I'll figure it out. But I mean to do something.

Community.

I've been reading lately. A book called "How To Think Like A Woman," by Regan Penaluna. The book tells the author's personal memoir, as well as the stories of 4 Early-Modern philosophers (who were women). I'm not a particularly smart person, sometimes I needed to read a paragraph or even a passage multiple times to really 'get it,' but some things stuck with me.

These philosophers were steadfast in their beliefs that women were deserving of education, asylum from abusive husbands, that they shouldn't need to hide their sexuality, that they should be allowed to pursue their intellectual desires just as a man could. But in these demands they each were specific. These freedoms were not meant to enable selfishness in women, as they often did in men. They believed that these freedoms, for all people, also came with the duty to better one's community - to give back. That embracing the people, valuing the people, fostering each individual, would further the community.

This point of community is where I've been stuck all day long. We all need community right now. We need shoulders to cry on, we need friends to laugh with, we need wise folk to tell us what the fuck to do now.

I don't know what I'm going to do - or make - but community needs to be a central theme.

Queerness & Transness.

I also feel like I've created nothing inherently queer. I've abandoned writing for some years now, my projects are old. Older than my realizations about identity. Older than my epiphanies about transness. I want to do something fuckin' gay as hell. I want to pour energy into something that may in some small way counterbalance the hate being screamed into the universe, infecting the pretty space-dust that I wanted to use to highlight my blush. I want to create something that whispers with a forked tongue: "Fuck. You."

Fact or Fiction.

Will it be fact or fiction? Do I want to search for beautiful, real stories to tell and help spread them? Or do I want to create something entirely new? I'm not a documentary producer, but should I be? My heart is in crafting stories, but maybe it's time to set that aside for a while in order to spread true stories that inspire good and justice. Maybe I'd better stick to what I know and make something up.

Abilities // Restrictions.

I am one person. Alone I can write, but that is difficult without an idea. I have the tinder and plenty of firewood, but I need a fucking spark. Once I have the spark I can do more.

I'm a filmmaker, I produce and edit. That's what I enjoy doing best. Not shit I can do without the idea. So for now those sit on the backburner.

I also have a(n admittedly small) rolodex of lovely queer individuals who may also feel a little distraught at the moment. Might be time to meet with them to discuss working on... something?

Budget is zero. Don't know what the project is so right now necessary funds are also zero, which is great. But nobody's getting paid for whatever the fuck comes of this, unless I can be smart.

Ending For Now.

This is all I can bear to write and word-vomit for now. I have been so full of energy and stress thinking about this all day long. I needed to get my thoughts out. If you feel the same ache I do, if there's any way I can help you make your "Fuck. You." project, or if you want to contribute to mine, please DM me and I'll be so happy to discuss and talk.

Please be safe, please be there for your fellow human beings, please be good to each other.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Seventeen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Miniseries)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: You have returned to Aldwinter. And begin to set plans for your revenge on Will.

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Some spicy stuff but no actual smut (please forgive me, the chapters in this fic are long enough), mentions of cheating and portraying Will's cheating as bad I am very blatantly against the Will/Cora pairing in The Essex Serpent and it shows so if you like either character or the pairing, you have been warned. Mentions of sex and religion and violence and abandonment. Supporting Women's Wrongs.

A/N: Thanks to @muddyorbsblr for the brilliant ideas about how Reader could get her long due revenge and the great suggestions!

Also,

Happy New Years Eve! Instead of going to clubs and drinking and partying or being invited to a party, I'm spending it editing fanfiction. So this is to all of you out there who too feel a little lonely like me and like you should be out there doing partying and "normal" things...you aren't the only one, and I'm sending you a hug.

I hope you enjoy the start of the "next" season of Court after that cliffhanger! Leave a comment or reblog or send me an ask or dm if you especially liked it! Happy 2024!

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You could still recall your wedding with Loki.

It was night. The moons shone above. Stars sprinkled across the sky as people laughed and went out to restaurants and taverns. They weren’t the ones about to find a cauldron. They could go on in ignorance and always in safety.

But your own pulse was picking up as you held Loki’s hand. Excitement and nervousness.

You both walked into a temple, a building with a garland of roses over the door. For even gods still needed worshippers. Inside, there were two priests going about. An old man and a younger man in fine golden robes swept the floors. The younger one turned and gasped, tugging the sleeve of his sage.

They recognized Loki and both bowed.

“Ah, great prince and god of mischief, what brings you here?” the older one asked.

“I want you to marry us!” Loki announced.

Their jaws dropped, and the brown eyes of the old man grew large.

“Without the…the consent of the AllFather?” the older priest asked.

“No- I do not need it. I am not a child anymore. I am a man grown and this is the woman I want to marry.” Loki said, gesturing to you.

You walked over and placed a hand on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

“This is one order I give you, both as god and prince- Perform a marriage between me and Y/N. The Jotun Prophet says she is my True Love- always shall be. Don’t break the True Love Bond. Perform a marriage ceremony. I’ll reward you handsomely if you do.”

They relented. The Older Priest led you both to the large altar in the next room. It had a tall statue of Frigga smiling with outstretched hands from her gown’s sleeves. Firewood was brought to make a nice kindling blaze in the fireplace from the younger priest to the fireplace in the room.

The older priest gestured you both to You walked around it to the wooden table placed right before the statue. It was covered in runes in its tan wood. There was a small dagger, a cornucopia, and a tall, white candle that the elder priest lit with fire from the fireplace. The younger priest stood to bear witness, as well as holding a spare marriage contract for you both.

“The AllMother might feel a slight twinge in the air tomorrow, for marriage is part of her realm. But yet…if you are certain, then you are certain. Any last things you would like before we begin?” asked the older priest.

“It feels a little more like a lamb is about to be sacrificed than a wedding,” you shyly commented, for the Christian weddings of home were more what you were used to.

“The AllMother doesn’t like offerings of lamb!!” laughed the older priest.

“Here- let me make it more decorated, then,” Loki offered.

With a flick of his hand, there were flowers everywhere. Soft roses in bloom, their perfume a gentle caress in the air. They decorated the statue and the altar. Flower crowns were placed on the two priests, much to their amusement.

“Should I go back home and get that lacy bustle dress then? I know it’s your favorite” you teased Loki.

He gave you a small laugh, then lifted his hand and flicked it in the air.

Golden light came down from over your heads, he gave himself rich green robes with gold armor plates over his shoulders Both a prince and a groom.

You looked as the magic went over you and your clothes transformed on your body. You were given a long dress that was a soft blush pink to compliment his green. It shimmered when light touched it. It showed your shoulders but the sleeves were so long they draped to the floor, the way that a few of the queen’s dresses did. For that was what a woman of royalty wore. The bodice made a heart shape over your chest. On your head was a long veil that went down your back and onto the floor of sheer material, forming a beautiful train melting into a lacelike pattern. It made you look like you floated.

You smiled up at him.

“It’s beautiful, thank you!” you gasped.

Loki smiled, then nodded at the priest for him to begin.

You clasped hands. There was a prayer and some milk poured into a bowl and placed at the feet of the statue as an offering to Frigga..Loki conjured daggers for you both to trade, symbolizing how you would protect each other.

“Now, make your vows to each other,” signaled the Priest.

Loki held your hands. Though the priest whispered the words in his ear, he repeated it with sincerity.

"I, Loki, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, take you to be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until only death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

You took his hands and repeated what the priest whispered into your ear.

“I, Y/N, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, to take you to be my husband, My friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

Then Loki’s magic brought up the ring- the very one you won from the Weaver’s cottage.

“That was why the Weaver thought I earned it…even she knew…” you wondered.

“She’s a matchmaker then, who knew,” Loki teased.

Loki placed it gently around your finger. He conjured a ring that you slipped through his finger.

There was a final prayer and chant. The younger priest brought forth the document which you both signed.

“Now seal it with a kiss- and all the nine realms shall consider you husband and wife,” announced The Older Priest.

You did, happily. Embracing each other and locking lips. They both smiled and applauded. Loki paid them generously with a conjured bag of coin.

You both were still holding hands as you hurried home. Your wedding gown and his shoulder plates glowing in the moonlight.

With the crowds around Asgard, you could slip by unnoticed. But you were smiling. He was red-cheeked, almost running and pulling you with him until you picked up your skirt and met his pace. You ran together back home at an equal speed. The thrill of being married at last soaring in your hearts.

You got home in your finery, clutching hands happily. At the entrance, no one came to meet you. The guards simply allowed you through, never asking questions.

“Husband…” you teased, tasting the word. Placing a hand on his warm chest. His eyes went big.

“In the older times, a marriage isn’t considered legal until it is consummated. Is Asgard…like that?” you asked with a slight giggle in your voice.

Loki took his hands around your waist.

“Better safe than sorry, then,” he agreed.

He scooped you easily into his arms and carried you right into his chambers. Taking you onto his green bed and laying you down.

He crawled on top of you and kissed you. Desire burned between your legs as he let in some of his tongue and touched your face, pulling you close. Hands greedily running down your body. Giggling you rolled over so he laid down and you were on top. The veil shimmered as it fell from your head into a melted, sparkly puddle on the floor. He let out a small gasp of surprise but laughed it off, his ivory face below you, his beautiful black curls splayed across the bed.

‘Now that we are wed, I’m going to make my wife scream with pleasure on our wedding night. And every night after that.”

His hands went to your hips, gripping the flesh beneath the cloth. You set yours on his broad shoulders.

“First I’ll have to spare your stallion and ride you instead!” you whispered.

“I love you, my wife… and princess,” he voiced.

“I love you too- prince and husband,” you said.

You began to grind him as he undid his own leather trousers. Then you pulled up your long skirts and began to sink onto his-

“O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil and make us the children of God and heirs of eternal life:...”

The vicar’s voice broke you out of your memories.

That was just the past. And here you were in a familiar scene. The memory is still warm in your body though you were back in that sterile church.

“Grant us, we beseech thee, that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves even as he is pure…’ Will continued to intone, signaling the beginning of the service.

You were sitting dutifully on the front row next to your parents. Just as you did for a long time. You were back home in Aldwinter, but you did not feel like the same lovesick girl counting down the days to her wedding and smiling up at the vicar with love and even restrained lust.

No, you kept your eyes down to the checkered floor, hands positioned to pray. You wore a dark-colored dress, but you were not in mourning. You would paint the picture of piety and repentance here. Still aware of the eyes still on you. Of the gossip.

“She left our respectable rector for that god. Yet she’s back here and - bless him, he loves her! He’s going to marry Y/N anyway despite all of that! Despite her being ruined. Despite her betrayal,” was what they were whispering in their pews and parlors.

‘They got it wrong as to who ultimately betrayed who. Twice.’ you thought. But you held back that part of you in your head. It was rather talkative lately, but you knew better than to utter a word of your true thoughts.

You looked about. There was the old chandelier that hung up with unlit candles. You wondered how they stayed on. What would happen if one were to fall? Would it hit someone?

To your amusement, you realized one hung over where Will was standing. You wished you could make a candle fall to hit him on the curly auburn head. It would have been funny, even the congregation would laugh. But you didn’t.

It deserved to be a knife aimed at his skull instead.

Everyone kept their heads down, though sometimes a pair of eyes would meet yours.

You were back. You told them- your family, old friends, and neighbors- little of what happened. As far as they knew, you were enchanted. But the spell was broken. Yhat you were returned safely- to pray, repent, and process all that happened with Loki…

And sometimes you did. The things you never imagined you would see or do when you went to Asgard. You thought you would live a plain little life in a plain little town and that you were content to do so. Did they know that you learned how to wield swords and daggers? That you were blessed with magic? Of the people you met from other worlds and timelines and planets? Stole belongings or helped in their stealing? Escaped death multiple times? Fought? Even killed? That you found new friendships with queens, princes, and warrior women? Seen aliens? Been to a ball? Met gods and learned to love one and was even married to him?

Now- here you were. In your old clothes and old church. Did those grand adventures even happen at all?

You knew they did.

There were a few extra faces in the pews. For some in town were surprised by an influx of men who built small houses and stayed nearby. Some women were thrilled for a bunch of new bachelors and hoped for marriage with one of them. They all said they were part of a construction company and factory that was nearby…when really they were of Grendel’s army. Bullies and monsters, all of them. And it was none other than Will who agreed with Grendel to let them stay in the town…if Grendel got you back here to him.

Will’s sermon continued as normal. He seemed happy as he began to discuss Paul’s book of Romans. Once you would have sat up in rapt attention. But you could hardly pay attention to it anymore. He seemed like a ghost in his long white robes. He wore a long blue sash draping down his shoulders trimmed with gold with symbols on the ends. He smiled brightly as he stood before the congregation, folding his hands so they disappeared from his robe’s sleeves.

You heard the voice of your husband through the bond.

'I’m going to kill him,' Loki said clearly in your head.

'Not yet,' you replied.

'I’m going to get out my dagger, and stab him right where he is.'

'Loki, please, don't'

'Then I’m ripping a portal to this church, slinging you over my shoulder, and carrying my wife out of this place. Right. Now.'

'Loki, I wish you could- but consider: they're watching. The whole town is watching and not just now! Everyone is obsessed and looking for you. My parents keep the doors to the house locked except for when I go on my daily walk. Everyone has purchased a weapon. They’re searching like madmen for you in Aldwinter. It’s not safe for you to just barge in.'

Now people discussed the Trickster god who kidnapped and ravished women more than the Serpent that was just a dead whale. They searched everywhere. Children played games and whispered about him. One thought they saw him in the woods. Another thought they saw him in the marshes. People kept close eyes on their daughters- he took first you, then Stella twice, and who knew which lady would be next?

One day, there was a rowboat on the river in town. It nearly ran into another rowboat. And no fishing nets were inside.

“What are you out here for?” one rowman asked.

“Lookin’ for the Trickster god! He was sighted here, wasn’t he?” answered the other boat’s first rowman.

“Blast it, not if I find and shoot him first!” said another rowman from the other boat.

‘But, my dear pet-’ Loki continued to sigh.

‘No- I don’t want you to. Besides, even if you could quickly get me out, I don’t want to leave yet…not without seeing to it that Will is punished’ you sent to him.

'You do deserve revenge, Loki agreed “So I should turn into a cat again, trot up to him purring, and then jump out and stab him.'

'Loki, it is a habit of men to avenge women they love who were wronged. It is in many stories- it is always the woman who suffers and dies horribly because of a villain’s sins and it is not her, but the man who is allowed to live to avenge her. Those writers don’t understand we ladies are perfectly capable of exacting our own revenges. I would like to do it. I am the person Reverend Ransome has wronged most of all. If anyone should do the stabbing, it should be me.'

'Then get a knife and throw it towards him in church!' Loki suggested.

'No! He will duck and it shall be me who goes into jail and shall be killed, not him. I can’t just murder him willy-nilly and with no certain escape or sanctuary. I must be careful with this if I am to get away with it.'

Part of you was impressed by him. Making a deal for your safe return at least, done by a man whose heart couldn’t be settled on one woman. You were keeping your simmering rage at bay. You took a look at the church, you noticed the walls that seemed blue-green in the overcast sky when they were really white. The light brown pews and the table with a tall wooden cross on it with two candles between. The three chandeliers. The two windows that overlooked everyone were like eyes.

When you burned Aldwinter to the ground, the church would be first.

No, no you couldn’t. Why should so many innocent people suffer because of one man’s decisions? You had to figure out how to exact revenge on the reverend Will Ransome, in a way that would affect him and only him. And in a way that no one would suspect it was you.

The service continued on as normal. Though you were always in a half-sleepy, silent daze now instead of at attention, doing every repetition of prayers and singing each hymn and crossing yourself soberly.

Sunday evening, as always, a nice dinner was made for Will, your fiancee and guest. It was as if the letter you wrote to him ending things was never sent.

It was the same picture. Everyone sitting down in your house. Napkins draped across laps as forks and knives clinked with plates. The smell of the meal wafting- your mother’s roast with salad and bread and potatoes. Laughter and chatter.

You would make a smile appear on your face, eating politely and quietly.

Then your father made one clap and rubbed his hands, looking at you and Will.

“Now- let us discuss the wedding! Do you have a date selected, my dears?” he asked.

“We have discussed about the wedding a little more…” Will began.

‘But I’m already married,’ you thought, glancing down at the emerald ring always on your finger.

Then again, Will wasn’t known for respecting the boundaries of marriage.

The Lusty Vicar placed a hand over yours and held it.

“We will reschedule the wedding for next month,” Will suggested. His blue eyes shined to you. “Then, my angel, I shall finally call you my wife.”

‘I would rather the Serpent become real and devour me,’ you thought.

“It shall be lovely,” you replied with a small smile.

“We shall have a wedding- free of interruptions and no sickness and no spells. It shall be simpler, mind you- we all know how much the first one cost,” your mother added.

“A big wedding doesn’t matter as long as it’s with a good man who truly loves you,” you commented.

Will again looked at you softly. He spoke with a smoothness, almost a seductive tone, like when he proposed to you. Not caring the others were there. In fact, they enjoyed it.

“It was God who told me you were to be my bride, Y/N.”

‘But God didn’t tell me.’ you thought. You only looked up at him and smiled.

“And we shall spend our lives fulfilling His word together,” he continued.

‘Did God also tell you to stick your fingers up Cora’s-’

“Oh, how beautiful! To see you finally married off to this godly, lovely man!” your mother sighed out loud.

“I am the happiest woman in Essex, ” you replied.

He kissed your hands and left back home.

“Y/N, now that you are a parsonage bride, be sure to attend to your duties at the church tomorrow. You must become used to them,” your mother reminded you.

One idea hit you. A small step.

Revenge you realized, was similar to cooking or baking. When one has a recipe, there are all sorts of small ingredients to gather, steps to take, and things to measure and mix. Small steps. They don’t seem like much at first, but bit by bit, they became something bigger, grander.

“Yes, mother. I shall,” you replied dutifully.

The next afternoon, the church was empty. Only Will and a few others planning out events in the meeting room. You had to help keep it tidy and check plans for Sunday School, for you were now going to join as another volunteer teacher for the children. As you looked over the lesson plans with the other teachers, you reached out your powers through your gifts. Searching. Would they be where they were last…

They reached his office. To what was under his desk.

No box. And no personal mail.

The letters from Cora were not in his office, you realized. That would take some searching.

But another thing was near his office- the church treasury kept in a safe in the next room.

Another step to your revenge.

One of the benefits of being a vicar was that while a clergyman received some of the tithes, a vicar got all of them.

Of course, some of it went to support his own church and ministry as well as put bread on the table. Will was probably discussing the budget with them from the Sunday tithes.

Finishing the Sunday School lesson planning was done.

Your senses told you the room with the safe was empty.

The old woman who taught the children’s Sunday school chattered on. Usually, women could teach children and other women. It was rare for a woman to teach a Sunday School class that included men. You got up. Saying you were going to get a glass of water and to wait for the Reverend, excuse me.

No one was in the hall. You quickly hurried in, your steps soft. To not click on the floors. Your powers unlocked the door and you stepped in. The plain brown room with a plain grey safe.

Quickly, your senses managed to unlock it. Opening up to numerous checks and huge wads of cash and coins in baskets.

You got out a few things of cash. Taking off your shoe, you slipped it beneath your foot and then retied it on. You then locked it back. Quickly walking away. You went over to the church kitchens to get your glass of water and sip on it in one of the parlors, your eyes down in innocence.

When you got home, you sat down in your chair, claiming you were tired and needed to rest. You looked at the blue gloves you had been knitting recently. Your eyes focused, your powers embracing it. You let it rip open and then reattach, sewn back together easily.

You removed your shoes and got out the cash.

You took the money and placed it in a blank envelope. Oh, how you wished you could recreate handwriting! Then you would forge Will signing it! But you could not, as much as you practiced. That would have given you away.

So at night, when no one was around, no one walking the streets, you briefly slipped the letter under your door. Then you went back to continue to knit more gloves as your parents read.

'Move' you commanded the letter silently.

And it did- it began to drift through the dirt road. You sensed where Mrs. Seaborne resided and directed the letter there as it floated through the ground as if a breeze moved it.

'Go to her house, slip it under the door,' you commanded it.

Quietly as a firefly. It located the house of a certain widow and slipped it under the door.

Your parents then said you would have to read the Bible more, to prepare for your marriage, and gave you a new copy they had bought. You turned to the Old Testament book of Judges and silently read some as they continued their own post-dinner activities by candlelight.

You poured over one story in that book. There was once a tyrant named Sisera who had long oppressed the Hebrew people. After his army lost a decisive battle with the Hebrew forces, he fled like a coward. He discovered a tent where who should be there, but only an ordinary housewife named Jael. She knew what he had done. She let Sisera have her food and sleep there as a guest, promising him that he was safe. Then as he slept, she got out a tent peg and killed him by hammering it through his skull.

You wondered why there weren’t more sermons discussing Jael. Why many never even spoke of her. Or perhaps even knew of her.

So every day you sat, sewed, obeyed your parents and fiancee, and prayed and bided your time. You had to seem like Jael- an innocent, dutiful, pleasant woman who would only do what was asked of her. Then, when the time was right, you would drive the peg through the skull of your Sisera.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Will loved to take long walks in the mornings. Especially through the fields, the forests, and by the sea. You realized each day you sensed him. They were like clockwork-mid morning after breakfast. Then he would go out for at least an hour. If not two.

That would be the perfect time to find the letters.

The next morning, you said you were out to walk and take care of some errands. Your parents thought nothing of it but wished you well. You walked out.

You walked into the town and through. Careful that none were watching you. You knew where it was. You had been there one night before.

There it was- the tall white house, the vicarage. There was a large, plain backyard save for the little house made of sticks for the dog to sometimes rest in.

The dog was already outside, leased to the house for safety as his keeper was out. The sweet, brown terrier. He went up to you, wagging his tail, for he knew you. You got him little treats of bread from your pocket that you fed to him, so he would be happy and not bark up a storm. No more than what would alert any passerbyes. After petting him for some time, you got back up to go to the vicarage.

Your powers unlocked the door and you went inside. Now you weren’t as clouded with emotion, you could look about the place.

It was light tan wood on the inside. There was a kitchen with an empty table and vase. A little fireplace. A parlor by the windows with cushions where one could watch the outside.

It was a large house. The right size for a man who was expected to start a family.

You turned past one door, peeking inside, and you saw a bedroom. A large blue bed, neatly made.

To think, that was where the wedding night that never happened would have taken place…

Then you continued, you felt odd. Nostalgic for something you never experienced…a life you never lived, had wanted to live, and in a way, still wanted to live.

There was his study. The wallpaper on it was green, full of vines, leaves, flowers, and even birds all over. Beautiful and elaborate. There was a window where sunlight poured through the window over his desk sat. Looking out to the countryside outside. There was an oil lamp where one just turned and there it was. So many papers and journals on his desk, yet in neat piles. But most impressive in his room were the bookshelves. His study was almost a library in itself- tall bookshelves. Full of books, more than you could name. It was likely they all were books of theology or even history or anything having to do with his ministry and studies.

You looked about, pausing and smelling the musk of the place. The beautiful wallpaper. The impressive collection of books.

You could almost feel it like wearing an old shirt- the life you once had. A life that was also within your grasp again. A life where you would live in this house as Mrs. Ransome.

To sit in that bed knitting next to him as he read. To sleep beside him and with him. To fulfill your marital duties at night with quiet passion. A life where you planned the activities the children would do in Sunday school on your kitchen table. Sew up white angel costumes for the Christmas pageant every year. To go and stand by his side helping to bring out alms on a day of charity.

Sweeping and scrubbing all day instead of intense physical training. No worries about Grendel, but of making sure the dinner would be warm when he got home.

One where you would gather flowers from your garden to plop into that vase, making them look nice. A life where you would fix tea and lemon biscuits, and deliver them on a tray to him in his study as he wrote his next sermon. To give it to him and he would smile up from his papers. A life where you would sit by the fire sewing, discussing whatever sermon was coming up next with him as he made notes. Plan recipes for the newest church dinner or picnic coming up and talk to him about who was making what. Picking pastel wallpaper for a certain special room in the future for both of you. Holding hands in the middle of services.

No quests, adventures, or fighting. A quiet life, a domestic, peaceful life. A life you could no longer have. A life no longer accessible -and a life you knew you could no longer let yourself want.

Your powers reached and you found you were correct in your suspicions.

The second desk drawer on the left side. The locked one.

Your powers unlocked it and it jiggled open. There inside were letters. The love letters from Cora to the Lusty Vicar.

Because he wasn’t known as the Faithful Vicar.

Though it made your heart race and your stomach turn, you picked up the letters and began to skim through some of them. You couldn’t take all of them or he would be immediately suspicious. You had to select only a limited number of them- so they had to be the most damning ones.

You turned past one discussing the Serpent to a piece of paper with Will’s handwriting on it. A draft of a letter to respond to her.

“I apologize for not writing, there was too much to say. I cannot think straight around you. I love you, Cora.”

Love- Love! He was sure it was love! You noticed the rest of it was full of scribbled-out words.

Then you found the next one from Cora. Two words in it stood out to you and nearly made you drop the paper.

“Come quickly.”

She was asking Will to leave you for her! The shock made the letter tremble in your hands and your vision went dizzy at the edges.

“Come quickly.”

Your mind then raced, imagined, as minds do… spiraling further in its self-destructive cycle of imagination. Will told you he wouldn’t leave you…he also said he loved you. Said that he still loved you…

“Come quickly.”

What if you already married Will…and he ran off with Cora?

You imagined the scene.

You could see it already in this house. You would be doing your daily duties humming a cheerful song. Refreshing the vase in the kitchen with flowers. Planning ingredients for dinner.

The day turned to evening…and realizing he was taking longer with his church duties than normal. Wondering if something happened. Already missing him as you dusted off the countertops. Full of happy memories of him in your earlier days of marriage. The light brown kitchen where he’d lay a gentle hand on your shoulder in fondness as you stirred the soup. The doorways you teased that he was too tall for. Looking through the dinner you were going to make that night.

Panic bubbled lightly as the sun dipped down and the day became night.

You would finally wander into his study. The light shining orange from his lamp…. There, on the table was a letter addressed to you from him. You would reach for it and read it.

“My dear wife, I am in love with Cora Seaborne. I cannot think straight around her…with her, there is too much to say. I am going with her. I ask for your blessing. I will make sure you are taken care of. Thank you, for your dear blessing on us and for our love.” Will.”

And enclosed were several bills of cash money.

For he knew a married woman could not submit a check at the bank, then the money would go to her husband.

And now, your husband was gone.

The utter shock. Rereading it to make sure it was real, that this nightmare was real. The rage. The tears. The brokenness washing over you. How you would shake. Holding onto his desk for support. Until your legs gave out- how you would collapse, sobbing. Those three little words that would feel like a kick over and over: “for our love.”

Then, you would wander into another room—the pastel one. For by now, there would likely be an occupant.

A little baby in a cradle.

A nursery decorated with the theme of Noah’s Ark. A painting of the wooden boat and of doves with twigs in their beaks on the wall. Full of little animal toys going two by two. Specially decorated for this child’s arrival.

To look down at the little infant in its cradle. So lovingly swaddled safe and warm. A child who was half you and half Will.

On one hand, perhaps it would be worse if he took the child with him. A child you would never know if you would see again, for a husband could deny his wife access to their children. The law saw the child as Will’s, not yours.

And he already found a new replacement, a new wife for him, and a new mother to this child.

It was as if you never mattered in the first place.

But now, the child would be babbling and looking around. Then it would burst into tears, for it missed the cradling arms of its father. You would shush it and try to rock it. Call their name, sing a lullaby in a broken, crying voice, and kiss their forehead- the last reminder of Will you’d always have by you.

To think, once this child was old enough, you would have to look them in the eye and explain why Papa wasn’t around like the other Papas were with their children, even if Papa was a priest. That Papa loved Mama…but he wasn’t in love with Mama.

How you would cradle that child to your chest, walking through the rain, the letter in your pocket. Trudging to your parents home in the middle of a rainstorm in the night. Knocking on the door. They’d open. Seeing a sobbing baby and a sobbing mother.

To tell them what happened. You couldn’t imagine what they would say, would do. They wouldn’t have the heart to even turn you down. But perhaps people would talk.

Maybe you didn’t cook as well. Maybe you were mad and had to be sent to an asylum. Maybe you weren’t as pretty as Cora. Or as interesting or clever. Maybe you didn’t pleasure Will enough in his bed and the Lusty Vicar had to be satiated somehow.

You would not be able to file a divorce. A husband who had an affair and now abandoned you was not the legal grounds for a wife to divorce a husband.

In the eyes of both God and the Law, you were still William Ransome’s wife.

Now…you had to stay married to him until only Death did you part or he decided to initiate a divorce. Even though you were the upright, godly, proper vicar’s wife…the law would not be on your side. Not as a woman.

To wait. For envelopes that had letters- and especially money. To live at the mercy of those envelopes. Hoping the cash would be enough. For food, for warm clothes for your child- no his child, for by the law, the child belonged to the father, not the mother. The humiliation, the pain, the loneliness.

All because Will and Cora were in love.

And all because a stupid whale carcass was what brought them together in the first place!

You wanted to take that lamp that sat at his desk and throw it at the wall until it shattered into a million pieces. You wanted to tear at that letter. Topple the bookshelves and rip apart every last book that belonged to Father William Ransome. Do every violent thing to destroy that room in a rage. To run to Cora’s house armed with a cane like what men and old people used to walk with. For it was she who wrote that letter in the first place. Ready to beat the tar out of her until she-

But no…that wasn’t real. That didn’t happen. This was real, you reminded yourself. You were just sitting in his office with shaking hands.

‘I am not the Unwanted Wife of Aldwinter…I am the Princess of Asgard. Loki loves me, he says I’m beautiful, that I am enough for him- that I am great and awe-inspiring…he is who matters now. I am. Beautiful, powerful, and dangerous. I have the Aesir people, the servants of the palace, the warriors, and the army and legion of Asgard at my disposal- and I shall strike into Will and Cora until they plead for the mercy I will never give them,’ you reminded yourself.

Your senses reached out again and you found old documents from when Will was granted the vicarage and position. You memorized the names of those who appointed him. You searched thoroughly until you found papers with the address of the seminary that appointed him. Taking a scrap piece of paper on the desk and his pen, you wrote their names, as well name of their building and its address. You wrote it down and then hid it in your stocking.

And you had to hurry- what if he decided to return soon? Your senses told you he was still walking outside…but you would not tempt fate.

Taking in a shaky breath, you returned the draft of his letter- you could take it. But if it was missing, he would suspect something was afoot. You set the draft down.

You planned to take two to damn Will. Instead, you took three love letters- including the “come quickly” letter. For she was going to be punished already as harshly as he.

You stuffed them into the pockets of your skirt.

You promptly left the vicarage back to town, taking a path that made it less suspicious you came directly from there.

You did a little grocery shopping, and returned, saying you had to walk to clear your head- you had a nightmare last night. About Loki. You poured a few tears and they fixed you some tea in consolation, telling you that your enchantment and the dreadful act of warming his bed was all over.

Then, once you were alone in your room, You took out the letters from your clothes and hid them your copy of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which you kept firmly in your personal bookshelf.

They were ingredients left to simmer until boiling. You had the evidence and the first address to send one to. You now had to figure out where to send the other two to bring them down.

[adorawasright]

Don’t forget, Sea Hawk is also apparently Asian. I also thought Frost might be Asian at first bc she kinda looks… maybe stereotypical isn’t the exact word, but just like what comes to mind when you think of a little Asian girl. Not to mention, she was originally designed as a white (Nordic coded?) teenager for this show before they decided to age her down into the little sister character. Never mind the fact the little sister character already existed in the old series with Glimmer and Allegra, and they could have done something with that, but I digress. I’ve also seen some people say Angella is Indian coded, because of the accent and her voice actress. Or maybe it’s because they think her gem is reminiscent of a bindi?

But yeah, idk about Perfuma, Entrapta, or Spinnerella. I think Perfuma could be latina because if the actress? But the character gives off the vibes of such a essential oils Karen that I associate with entitled white women, to the point I think she might just be a tanned white woman? Though I’ll admit, when I first saw her design I considered black and white biracial, and I considered Pacific Islander. So I have no idea. I’ve also seen some people interpret Entrapta as black. Though, I doubt it based on the hair alone. I like to think she’s latina, simply because I want her as my Latin rep, and not the literal cat. As for Spinnerella, I got nothing. Maybe white? All I know is that Huntara should have been black, and isn’t even coded as black. And I think that’s dumb, because I would have loved buff, queer, gets-a-character-arc Grace Jones in this show, since we didn’t get to have it in the old one.

Okay, hold on. I had no idea Sea Hawk was apparently half-Asian. I had to look this up. It was "confirmed" (as in, on Twitter) by the lead character designer for SPOP, who also "confirmed" Scorpia as half-Asian as well. However, I'm pretty sure Frosta is supposed to be Inuk like Katara, but I don't think that was ever confirmed. I could be wrong. I'm not even sure where her kingdom is located, for that matter. The worldbuilding in SPOP sucks so badly I barely remember how the kingdoms were like, save for Perfuma's and maybe Mermista's.

Idk, man. I honestly don't think that much about most characters' ethnicities, because the SPOP crew clearly didn't put a lot of thought into it. I mean, the literal cat teenager who licks herself, who walks on fours, who bites and claws people, who hisses and hates water, and who's sexualized on top of it all, is supposed to be Latina. Or Iranian or Middle Eastern, because apparently OG Catra came from "Purrsia", which is like... the Persian Empire? And fans really want to apply that to the reboot, too. Except Catra's origins were never brought up in SPOP, only that Catra was found abandoned in a cardboard box according to Nate. Regardless, neither theories are great because both Latinas and Iranian women (and Middle Eastern women in general) are not treated like people. They're sexualized and are victims of colonization. I've heard people headcanon Catra as Indigenous, too. Which is even worse considering she got her hair cut against her will.

As for the other characters... I just don't care, lmao. I will agree that Huntara should've been black, too. But since the SPOP crew didn't care about developing their kingdoms and their origins, then I don't think that hard. I mainly mention and dissect "Latina" Catra because the fandom won't shut up about her. Idk about Entrapta's ethnicity, but if Latina Entrapta makes you happy, go for it. Especially because Latin America is pretty diverse, so there are a lot of possibilities.

I don't agree with the term Karen, though. I get what you mean, that Perfuma is annoying and ableist and treats other people like garbage, but sadly that's another term that actual misogynists use against any women who get angry. But I know that's not your intention, I get where you come from.

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x3

And here are my additional thoughts that contain spoilers through all the teasers and the books through book 13: A Memory of Light.

I was watching show-only reviews to try to figure out if it's safe to call Ishy 'Ishamael' yet but reaction seems mixed on whether or not Moiraine's words clued people in on the situation, so I'm going to stay ambiguous about him in my book spoiler-free posts for now.

I loved the changes that the show made to all Nynaeve's tests. They all make sense in context of the show and Nynaeve's character, they all tell us something about her, and there's also some great connective threads between them. We've known for a while (or guessed) that her first test would take place when she was a kid because her mom appeared in the casting lists... quite a few months ago. Ages ago. But I definitely prefer this one to the book version. It was so heartrending and touching.

2. The crimsonthorn strand throughout the tests is very interesting to me. I talked about this in the other post, but on a more spoilerly note, I like that the show is not defaulting to "all the Wondergirls feel a draw towards Green because They Like Men" and that Nynaeve is actually getting tugged between Yellow and Red in these last two episodes, as Liandrin tries to influence her. It makes me wonder if maybe they'll have Elayne incline towards maybe Brown ("I like to tinker with things") instead of Green. Though Nynaeve did put Egwene in the Green Ajah in her personal AU (which did such a good job in only using elements that Nynaeve was aware of when she went into the arches! No Elayne in Nynaeve's AU; and no Rand because she believes him to be dead).

4. Side note: thrilled that Nynaeve does not have to be naked for the test. The amount of times that women have to strip down for rituals in the books gets pretty ridiculous (especially when men doing the same kind of ritual -- ex. going to Rhuidean -- does not require them to strip). Stripping down to her shift makes the point well enough.

5. A thought I had about the people attacking the Two Rivers -- could this have been happening during the Andoran Succession Crisis that led to Morgase being Queen? And so the Queen's Guard, instead of keeping the roads clear of bandits, were busy with the civil war among the nobility, which let bandits get even as far as the Mountains of Mist. That could actually serve as a really good reason for the Two Rivers to basically nope out of being part of Andor -- "you were so busy squabbling amongst yourself that you let bandits rove the lands and kill innocent people". I'm not certain if the timeline matches up, but I will put it out there as a theory.

6. Her second test is based on the same worries that she had in the books -- that she's abandoned the Two Rivers and she won't be there when they need her and someone who isn't a good Wisdom will have taken over for her -- but shifted the details to hit harder in the show version, and to use characters that the show viewers are already familiar with. It really worked for me. I also liked them essentially using Perrin's lies about Rand to Tam in the books for Nynaeve here instead, where it makes a lot more sense -- she doesn't want to steal the only comfort that she can give a dying man by telling him that his son is dead.

7. Liandrin genuinely got herself invested in Nynaeve! I liked seeing that. I really like that the show is giving more emotional depth to our Darkfriends. Both Sheriam and Liandrin come across as very genuinely upset that Nynaeve hasn't returned through the arches. Because they both think of themselves as the good guys! Liandrin's motives in the show seems to be along the lines of "You need to have power so that others can't have power over you" while Sheriam's in the books were about being Black Ajah essentially to get ahead in the Tower but never expecting that she would actually need to do anything TOO terribly bad in exchange. Neither of them wanted Nynaeve to die or get hurt (they were both probably hoping to turn her to the Black Ajah). It's also really funny that it's entirely possible that they do not know that the other one is also Black Ajah.

8. Theory: being able to sense latent channelers may be a Talent rather than something either everyone or no one can do. Because it's one specific damane who comes out to point out the individual women to get dragged off to be damane, rather than it being the two women who were used to attack the village.

They are hitting the dehumanization angle hard. Egwene's 'training' is going to be so hard to watch.

9. Ishamael doesn't seem like he was expecting to find Perrin here, so I don't think Ingtar has been in regular contact with him. I really do wonder where exactly the Darkfriend social happened, timeline-wise, to the rest of the season thus far.

10. Ah, goodbye, Uno. I'll miss you, but you went out like a boss. Given the changes that were made to the plot, this does make a ton of sense -- Uno is not a man who backs down easily and he's also not a plot-relevant character really... ever, at any point. He's a fun character for flavor but someone who can be sacrificed to illustrate a narrative point without needing to change any of the story in the future.

11. Changing Logain to being able to see men who can channel as opposed to ta'veren makes a lot of sense on a practical level -- Mat was sitting right next to Rand, so if he saw ta'veren, then he would have seen both of them glowing; making it about Rand being a channeling focuses Logain's attention and memory in on Rand specifically.

12. Rand being kept out of the knowledge loop here kinda cracks me up because "Rand is on an information diet" is something that kept coming up in the books and it frustrated me so much because, in the books, it was consistently a result of his allies just never being willing to tell him a fucking thing ever unless he bullied them into it or spied on them. It makes a lot more sense here that he doesn't know what's going on with anyone else's plotlines! Taking something frustrating from the books and making it make sense is a really good habit that the show has been doing.

13. Lanfear continues to be the funniest girl in the world. She is just on cloud nine so far in s2, cruising along living her best life. Also, we see that her inn cheekily has her personal symbols as their sign.

14. Given how much Rand is experiencing the class divide in Cairhien and how much he's seen the poor get mistreated and looked down on by the rich and titled, I almost wonder if he isn't going to get a bit of Mat's arc from the books when he finds out that Elayne is a noble and needs to realize that she's not like the Cairhienin nobles.

15. Mat escaping from one abusive situation only to land right into another one definitely reminds me of the Tylin->Tuon pipeline in the books, of course. The main difference being is that we're dealing with mother figures in the show and not 'romances' (please take that word with a very large grain of salt). Possibly the biggest way that they can set Mat x Tuon up for success is actually showing us her relationship with her mother and how toxic and cruel the environment that she grew up in is. I feel like not killing off the old Empress at all and instead having Tuon take over a faction of the people and split off them off from the Empire would give us a sense that she really IS Not Like The Other Seanchan, instead of just wanting people to believe Mat when he says it despite there being no evidence in Tuon's actual behavior (I'm trying to remember who originally suggested that idea, but it was a while ago, so I have forgotten; I'm sorry!).

16. Liandrin grinding in to Mat how worthless and what an awful friend he is will, presumably, be some pretty good setup for him to show himself to be both loyal and vital in the final episode, though there will probably be more pain for him in the upcoming episodes (maybe involving what happens with Min's viewing about him stabbing Rand).

17. Lanfear is buzzing on such a high of getting show off of her Personal Dragon to a fancy group of lords and ladies at the start of this party.

18. Rand's conversation with Moiraine's sister is particularly fascinating! There's a queen of Cairhien but I suspect that it's not a Damodred (maybe I'll be wrong and Anvaere is the queen! We'll see!). That Anvaere reaches out to the mysterious ~outlander lord~ and shares so much with him is very intriguing, especially if we end up seeing her again later in the season (once Moiraine arrives in Cairhien?).

18. Here is where the cracks in Lanfear's illusion of perfect happiness with her New Lews Therin are beginning to show: he's keeping secrets from her, he's doubting her, and then he just leaves her behind. She is probably getting some very unhappy flashbacks right about now.

19. I wonder if Rand's bad experience with Logain here will inform his choices in the future. In the books, there isn't really a good reason for him to give Taim free rein over the school, but if it's more of a "Taim vs Logain" situation and he already doesn't trust Logain (and Taim appears less affected by the madness), then him trusting Taim might make more sense.

20. Mat being released from a prison cell and not knowing where to go and then (temporarily in this case) returning to his prison gives me echoes of "Mat inexplicably appears by magic in Ebou fucking Dar, a place that treated him like shit for months" from A Memory of Light, lol.

21. Perrin feeling wary about getting too wolfy because of his encounter with Ishamael feels like a much better reason that we got in the books... though I wonder if we'll follow it up by having him meet... shit, the guy who lost himself to the wolf; do not remember his name. But I'm thrilled to have him hanging out with Elyas and the wolves (Hopper?) for now.

22. Liandrin calling Mat Cauthon, agent of chaos, "nothing if not predictable" feels like it needs to bite her in the ass at some point.

23. Yeah, on rewatch, the sex dream is definitely Lanfear feeling like she can finally show her possessiveness and anger in Rand's dream. She is MAD at him for keeping secrets and leaving without her, but she can't show it when he's awake because it doesn't fit her carefully crafted persona. She does NOT like her men with an air of mystery -- she wants to know every tiny thing that he's thinking and feeling. I wonder if Rand actually did light the roof on fire or if Lanfear helped it along -- she's definitely taking advantage of his vulnerability in the aftermath of the fire. "If you ever leave me like that again, I will kill you." Yeah, that's absolutely Lanfear.

And, you know, her inn burning down does mean that she doesn't have to worry about dealing with it anymore. Now that she's had a taste of Rand in fancy coats, I think she probably wants to try to figure out a way to make it happen again.

24. Nynaeve's dream does have a couple of painful easter eggs in it -- Mat gets a wound over his eye; Perrin gets killed by an axe.

Nynaeve does forcibly bring back the arches in the books too, just without so much happening in the illusionary life. But I liked this a lot because of how much it gave us from the other characters who believed that Nynaeve was dead.

25. So, my theories about what we might get in episode four. Wow.

Rand's trajectory... I don't think he's done with Logain. But I feel like ep4 is going to be a big one for him, based on the title (Daughter of the Night). Rand may find out the truth about Selene in this episode, which would be a. be a pretty big betrayal but also b. might make him realize that it's not likely that the Dark One is actually dead.

Moiraine is presumably on her way to Cairhien right now, but it doesn't seem like she thinks Rand himself is there, but more that she's investigating the poem situation, so they may run across each other by accident.

Everyone is going to get to react to Nynaeve powering her way out of the arches (like a boss). I am very curious if Lan is going to spend an episode in the Tower before going after Moiraine... but if Actual Lan goes to the Tower... hard to imagine he wouldn't tell Nynaeve, at least, that Rand is still alive. He knows how deeply Nynaeve cares about the Two Rivers kids.

Unless Liandrin tricks Nynaeve, Elayne, and Egwene into leaving the Tower before Lan arrives there?

Where are Mat and Min going! Mat can't be going after Egwene & co to save them because... nothing to save them from at the moment. Where would Liandrin want him to be led? Falme? I mean, maybe, but he can't channel, so it's not a secure prison for Mat like it would be for the girls.

Perrin's storyline is going to teach us more about the Seanchan and wolfbrothering, I imagine. Maybe some scouting. He can truthfully tell any Seanchan soldiers (if he runs across any) that he's taken the oaths.

Will we follow right on from episode 3 or is there going to be a timeskip to give the characters some time to travel to new locations?

[thestuffieguardian]

umh ok so first I’m a man and second, I read that you said you where afraid of talking to women because of bad pass experience, so I was wondering how did you manage to talk to the few woman you seem closest to or they approach you first? it just I had bad experience here too and even tho I want to make friends either male/female i can’t get pass through my fear of disappointing them in a first friendly conversation without being perceived as a creep, just curious cause I hate this feeling

I never said I was afraid of talking to women. I'm afraid of giving my all to her for her not to appreciate it. My experiences with women have been less than great, so I just decided to not pursue them anymore. Women love a man not pursuing other women, in a world filled to the brim with shoddy dating apps and 1st date blunders, they want the man who is evidently bettering himself, however, there are bad women out there. Women who want to hurt us, and it's very difficult to tell which is which, you just have to look out for the signs, and leave her when you feel the bad energy. No ifs or buts, just go

I've not had a relationship in a long time, I'm not scared of women. I'm scared of one hating me because of what another man did to her

You can talk to women about anything. Just make sure to ask about her. Take an interest in her, sex should be her idea. Always. Let her flirt with you first, then you're good. Ask about her hair, her makeup, her nails, the art she just painted, ask about her garden, what flowers she's growing, don't ask her her favourite colour. You find that out way, way later.

Take an interest in her and the things she wants, and if you've found a good one, she will give you the exact same energy back. Women love a man who will genuinely take an interest in the things she likes to do, because ultimately, we all want to do those things with another person. Don't be non-chalant, and don't be too pushy. Be caring enough so that she knows she can trust you, but not too caring that it feels fake to her

Things can be misconstrued like crazy these days, but don't read all this and panic. Just relax. Be yourself. Let conversation flow. If the conversation doesn't flow, she's not for you, move on

Conversation should be light and breezy, a relationship should be passionate & filled with molten immolation, women adore being desired, show her you desire her in every aspect, and she will in prayer, give the same back

HOWEVER

This part is very important. You never, ever, ever disrespect yourself for her. You never ever hurt yourself at the expense of her. You have feelings as well and they should be acknowledged. A lot of women of today have been given the notion they can walk all over us, I'm a proven fact that that's absolutely not the case. Women have blocked me because I won't give them that satisfaction

You don't disrespect her either. Don't make fun of her interests, don't lie to her. Don't belittle her. She will lose interest in you faster than Sonic can run. You can have jokes, but make sure she's the right one to reply back sarcasm to your sarcasm. There should not be any pain when speaking to her. It should feel like a breath of fresh air

This is the most important part. Alright? That gut feeling. The one that feels like your stomach is tearing itself apart when she says or does something? You leave. Leave her. As soon as she makes you feel that way, you abandon that girl. I mean it. She will cause you nothing but pain and heartache. She will tear you to pieces and she'll laugh whilst she does

That feeling is your guardian angel. Don't listen to her words. Don't listen to anyone else's. Listen to your own intuition as it's there to keep you safe from harm. She'll want to speak. Apologies blah blah blah. Block her. Leave her. Kick her out your house. She is no good and it will only get worse, people like that don't change. I promise

Don't force things. Don't give her tests. But also make sure she isn't forcing things or testing you either

You'll be fine. It's not as complicated to speak to a woman as everything in this world has made out. Just be you. Women like authenticity, and you stay away from the ones that don't. Remember there are bad women. There are bad men. There are bad humans.

Being a prick is not a gender. It's a lifestyle for these people due to their own suffering. You be sure you're not dragged down to hell with them 💙

[arthurmorganwateringhole]

I'm genuinely curious but why do you care if people headcanon that Arthur is himbo? I'm not trying to start a fight, sincerely. I'm coming from the perspective that we should let people have their headcanons, y'know?

Yeah, I get that! I guess, to answer this question, I have to talk about my philosophy (if you can call it that) when it comes to media consumption and my critical takes on fandom culture writ large. So if you have time, buckle up!

I should point out that I both don't care and care very much about people's hc's when it comes to my favorite characters. I don't care, in that I'm not going to get upset or get my panties in a wad if you headcanon something that is easily proven to be inaccurate wrt the canon. Like, if you want to headcanon Arthur is bad at reading, go for it. Lol, I'm not going to be upset or go out of my way to stop you.

However, I care enough to point out when this is inaccurate, especially when it enters into my sphere of fandom interactions. Now, this is where I get into trouble? A lot of people feel when I point out something is wrong or inaccurate, that I'm invalidating them or censoring them? Lol, like it's okay to be wrong/inaccurate. It's not the end of the world! If you choose to adjust your headcanons so that it's more canon compliant/accurate, then good for you. If you choose not to, also good for you! I promise, Lia isn't going to come after you :)

That said, in general, people need to be more open-minded if they're 'corrected.' Like I said, it's not the end of the world. Take the note and move on with your life.

Now, let's get to the larger, heftier part of this question. This need fandom has to transform their favorite man into a himbo (when he isn't) is a projection issue to me? Like, the unspoken assumption here is that it's safe and unproblematic to like himbos. Force this character into the himbo mold, and you can stan unproblematically! A couple of issues here:

As a Marxist, I should point out that there is no such thing as ethical consumption. It's fool's gold, and you're better off abandoning this all-or-nothing way of thinking and accept that life has its compromises WHILE still trying to work on yourself and your habits

Flanderization often leads to more problematic representation, as it erases the nuance that went into the writing of Arthur. He is a very complex dude. A lot of his sense of humor is subtle and off-the-cuff. Many people mistake it for genuine stupidity, and that's just... unfair? Like my boy did not just whip out witty repartee that belittles the presumptuous upper class of America for you to dismiss it as stupidity.

Now, as for himboism itself...

Okay, I love himbos. Kronk from Emperor's New Groove is a great and lovable example of a himbo? Big beefy dude with a big beefy heart but of very little brain UNLESS it involves his favorite pastime: home-making and cooking. Himbos aren't necessarily dumb, btw, they're just not considered conventionally intelligent (the way Yzma is). The charm of the himbo is that their kindness overpowers our traditional valuations of intelligence, and it reminds us that emotional intelligence (which, stereotypically is not recognized in cis men) is worth appreciating.

The problem here is that Arthur Morgan is both emotionally and intellectually intelligent. To overemphasize the former at the expense of the latter makes you miss a lot of his more complicated and unsavory personality traits?

For instance, one of the MAIN character traits (recognizable anywhere) of a himbo is that a himbo would never say a nasty word to ALL women. Now, don't get me wrong, Arthur is indeed a feminist who respects women, but a himbo would not be caught dead saying this line (credit to @papaue00 for reminding me it exists):

It's worth listening to how Roger Clark deliver those lines. Arthur speaks with malice here :)

Now, the point isn't, "Arthur is sexist! Cancel him!" Because that is NOT true. He's not sexist. Rather, he has moments where he gives in to petty malice? And he goes out of his way to demean her by bringing up sex work (i.e. she isn't a lady so she doesn't deserve his respect) to get back at the embarrassment and irritation he feels given the situation.

If you insist on him being a himbo and read him as only himbo, you miss out on his flaws. His flaws are key to understanding why he is the way he is; why he is perfectly capable of making his own choices and making the wrong ones. An unintended bias people have of Arthur as himbo (and therefore wholesome and unproblematic) is that they end up blaming other characters for his decisions. A famous example is Mary's missions. The fandom writ large tends to blame her for stringing Arthur alone, solely because he uses the phrase, 'play me like a fiddle' in his journal. Rather than reading that phrase as self-deprecatory (he's poking fun at himself while also expressing a vulnerable side of him that still loves her), they take that to mean she's manipulating poor helpless Arthur who is totally unaware of what she's doing to him.

Another example, someone wrongly attributed Arthur's pedantic interests to Dutch in one of my reblogs. Dutch and Hosea may have taught the boys how to read, but Dutch has no interest in botany. A quick conversation overhead between him and Lenny shows that his intellectual pursuits are actually just grandstanding and peacocking. He doesn't know and understand wtf he's talking about. Not once does Dutch even talk about botany. Arthur, though? Loves drawing plants. Can identify them. And he has a book of it by his bedside. Like, reading him as 'an idiot' sincerely (and not with a hint of irony, as Arthur does) misattributes his strengths and weaknesses to others, and that's just... unfair to the writers who WENT OUT OF THEIR WAY TO WRITE THOSE LINES OF EMULATED 19TH-CENTURY SCIENTIFIC PROSE!!! Like, people worked hard to characterize him environmentally. Don't let their efforts be in vain!

Do you see why I care a little bit if people mischaracterize him? It's like, I care in the sense of: okay have a good life. But I also care enough to point out an inaccuracy if I see one. I know it's more polite to not say anything, but it's also condescending of me to treat you like you're a child and just give a bemused smile from behind my screen. I think it's more helpful??? when I point out things you might have missed in game or are deliberately erasing when you choose to ignore the game.

I don't really care about being polite. I care about having good, healthy discussions and endless obsessions over my faves. So yeah there's your answer.

[edenxoconnell]

[ciswoman, she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [EDEN O’CONNELL]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [KATHRYN NEWTON]. You must be the [TWENTY-FOUR] year old [STUDENT, BARISTA AT DRIFTWOOD COFFEE SHOP]. Word is you’re [STRONG-WILLED] but can also be a bit [BITTER] and your favorite song is [TOLERATE IT BY TAYLOR SWIFT]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY TOWERS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

Basic:

Full name: Eden Lily O’Connell

Age: 24

Birthday: June 30th

Height: 5’5

Family:

Mother: Janey O'Connell

Father: Keith O'Connell (deceased)

Brother: Arkin O'Connell (@arkin-oconnell)

Sister: Addison O’Connell ( @addisonxoconnell )

Cousins: Nikki Keaton (@ambivalenceshefelt), Erica Manning ( @ericaxmanning ), Damian Keaton ( @damiankeaton )

Romantic:

Ex boyfriend: Robbie Becker ( @robbie-becker )

Platonic:

Friends: Amelia Evans ( @theameliaxevans ), Clayton Jeong ( @claytonjeong ), Emerson Cassidy ( @emersonxcassidy ), Lucy Driscoll ( @lucydriscoll ), Clark Hale ( @clarkxhale ), Victoria Sanchez ( @victoriaxsanchez ), Noah Atwood ( @noah-atwood )

Wanted Connections:

Study buddies

A bad boy/girl to let her be wild for the first time with

Exes (men or women)

roommates (Aurora Bay Towers)

Friends

Enemies

Someone she's competing with in the school paper (she's an aspiring journalist. Yes, I got this idea from Divine Rivals)

Classmates

Regulars at the coffee shop

I'm open to so much! Let's plot

Bio:

Trigger Warnings: neglect, mentions overdose, mentions cheating, mentions parental abandonment

Eden was a shy kid growing up. She liked to pretend the world wasn’t falling apart around her while she fully immersed herself in the books she borrowed from the library. She liked to come up with stories about characters to get the happy endings she was sure she would never be able to find herself. She would write about brave women saving the day or about two people falling in love and living happily ever after. She wrote of happy families who were always there for one another. And then when she would finally put down the pencil, she would read over her work and cry. 

When Eden got older, she took an interest in more than just reading and writing fiction. She joined the paper in high school and she found a great fulfillment in writing about events happening around her, even if they weren’t grand adventures like she was used to writing. When she realized that it could be a career path for her, she decided she was going to be a journalist- no. A writer. Eden never wanted to give up writing her little stories and books, so she promised herself she wouldn’t. Even if sometimes how happy they were made her sad. 

So much was happening in Eden’s life that she liked to escape into her books whether she was reading or writing them, but she also loved diving into things in the real world as well, focusing on things that had nothing to do with her or how her family was seemingly falling apart. Focusing on other people’s problems helped her run away from her own. 

See, Eden’s father had left when she was younger and he started a whole other family. It was something she had to live with every day, along with the thoughts that made her wonder why she wasn’t good enough for him or what she could have done to keep her family together rather than letting her siblings go off the deep end and try to self destruct; or what she could do to get her mother to stop drinking herself into oblivion. Or, of course, what could she have done to keep her father from leaving? The devastating answer was always… nothing. 

It was a shame, considering Eden always felt as though she had to clean up everyone else’s messes. She had to take care of their mother, she had to worry about her brother and sister, but did anyone care to think about her for even a second? She felt as though her heart cracked more and more each day. 

It was when her brother overdosed that she truly thought her heart would completely shatter and never be put back together again. While he was in rehab, Eden desperately needed something to get her mind off of it all. So what did she do? Well, she joined NanoWrimo and she started her very first fantasy novel. And the moment Arkin left rehab, she begged and begged and begged him to come home. 

Now that Arkin is back in Aurora Bay, Eden feels a bit more relaxed, although she still worries over her brother’s wellbeing. On top of it all, she’s still in college, she’s working for the school paper, babysitting and working at her part-time job, all while trying to finish up her first novel. After nearly losing her brother, Eden has found it harder to be angry with him for essentially abandoning her to deal with their mother all these years, but she is just glad he’s okay for now. 

@aurorabayaesthetic

[swordsmans]

!!!! omg!! okay, this is definitely going to be a longer list (edit: 25+/-ish?). a good rule of thumb with horror lit is not to read summaries beyond the first two sentences max, because it relies on the unexpected almost exclusively (due to the limited medium). with that in mind, i'm going to keep my descriptions short and list only "key words" to describe each. i also highly discourage looking up ratings/reviews, as horror lit typically rates low (since it's suuuper subjective). look up the covers and pick based on that (im a librarian. im giving you permission to judge these books by their covers. it's okay)

reiterating my warning about looking up specific sensitivities, plus an added warning that all but two of these are very adult books.

All the White Spaces - Ally Wilkes

historical cosmic/creature/survival horror; polar expedition to the antarctic goes horrifically wrong, leaving the ship's crew stranded on the ice; trans man protagonist

The Luminous Dead - Caitlin Starling

isolation/sci-fi/survival horror; what if you were trapped alone in an abandoned space mine for weeks and your only connection to the outside world was a woman you've never met talking to you through your exo-suit's radio?; fucked up lesbians, my beloved

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

sci-fi/medical/body horror; one of the few YA horrors i have ever endorsed, and a good "intro" to the genre; lord of the flies but with teen girls and grotesque body mutations as a heavy-handed metaphor for the inherent horror of growing up; queer girls

The Change - Kirsten Miller

"fantasy"/body horror; similar "theme" to wilder girls, but instead of puberty it's menopause and instead of weird science bullshit you just gotta roll with the ride; read this if you support women's wrongs; bisexual/lesbian women in the 50+ age group

Into the Drowning Deep - Mira Grant/Seanan McGuire

deep sea/creature horror; camera crew sets out to make a history channel ancient aliens-style fake documentary on mermaids... but the marianas trench has many secrets; okay, i read a lot of lesbian horror

A Dowry of Blood - ST Gibson

historical/creature/romance horror; what if dracula's wives were actually in a fucked up four-way polycule?; epistolary format; FF/MM

The Salt Grows Heavy - Cassandra Khaw

slow burn/creature/body horror; post-apocalyptic mermaid and her nonbinary/genderless plague doctor companion... encounter plot; 106 page novella; nonbinary author (who i've met--theyre super cool)

Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke - Eric LaRocca

psychological/body horror; two women meet on an internet chat room. an apple peeler is involved; great intro into "splatterpunk" if you're just getting into horror lit; 120 page novella unless you read the collection ("and other misfortunes"), which also has some additional short stories; trans author, more fucked up lesbians

Plain Bad Heroines - Emily M Danforth

historical/dual-timeline/haunting horror; 1902: an all-girls school becomes obsessed with the sordid lesbian tell-all of young woman named Mary MacLane... modern day: an up-and-coming writer and two actresses begin filming a movie on the abandoned school premises; 640 pages and not a single non-queer character. trust me, i kept track; "main" couple is a FFF poly trio but honestly the gang's all here

Bunny - Mona Awad

cosmic/psychological/body horror; what if regina george ran a psychedelic homoerotic sorority cult in a creative writing graduate program and... well.; not gay, not straight, but a secret third thing

The Book Eaters - Sunyi Dean

"fantasy"/creature horror; vampires who devour information instead of blood; a woman on the run with her young son, a monster worse than the old clan who raised her; lots of plot packed into 298 pages; lesbians (hm. okay. maybe i should branch out.)

Hell Followed With Us - Andrew Joseph White

creature/body/sci-fi horror; another rare YA; post-apocalyptic ultra-christian cult turns a trans boy into the biblically-accurate bioweapon antichrist, he runs and finds refuge with a group of queer refugees while trying to hide the fact that hes--you know--the antichrist; the gang's all here

Your Body Is Not Your Body - (anthology)

body horror, but a little bit of everything else too; 30+ trans authors come together to write a manifesto on the erotic horror of the trans body; (ive met a couple of these authors, all very cool) [see also: "the book of queer saints", another similarly-themed anthology with some of the same authors but fewer stories]

Queen of Teeth - Hailey Piper

splatterpunk/body horror; vagina dentata; another gem on the erotic horror of the trans body, this time through delicious metaphor; 198 page novella; also a rec from the icons at necro's genderweird body horror panel last year

The Echo Wife - Sarah Gailey

sci-fi/existential/slow burn horror; a woman and her clone must get along after her (their) husband dies; one of my favorite books of all time; nonbinary author but this one has queer themes without being specifically queer (their other books are more explicitly queer, just not "horror")

honorable mentions to some of my favorite not-so-queer horror that's still worth the read:

Passersthrough - Peter Rock

cosmic/psychological horror; an exploration of memory and aging through an estranged father and daughter; at eleven years old, a young girl goes missing in the woods, then reappears after a week with no memory of where she's been; "Sad Clown Lake is filled with bones"

Ghost Wall - Sarah Moss

existential/psychological horror; a young girl's father forces his family to take a two-week vacation isolated in the wilderness living only with the tools and knowledge of iron age britons; artistic and literary, written with very little/no punctuation; 144 page novella (i recommend the audio because of the punctuation thing)

The Grip of It - Jac Jemc

cosmic horror; a young couple purchases a fixer-upper to begin a new life together... it goes about as well (or worse) than you'd expect

This Thing Between Us - Gus Moreno

cosmic/creature horror; his wife buys an "Alexa"/Google Home but something's not quite right. the smart home's creepy little quirks stop being funny when she dies; an exploration of grief through a horror lens, this one made me cry for real in real life

The Twisted Ones OR The Hollow Places - T Kingfisher

creature/cosmic/survival horror; both of these are faves and you could go with either one and still have a great time. i read The Twisted Ones first, but literally just pick whichever cover you like more; honorable mention to "What Moves The Dead", a novella they've recently published which apparently has queer themes--but I didn't include it above because I haven't read it yet.

Lakewood - Megan Giddings

medical/body/psychological horror; a young woman signs up for a medical study that promises to pay for her elderly mother's care in exchange for her participation in the trial

The Boatman's Daughter - Andy Davidson

southern gothic/"fantasy" horror; retelling of the baba yaga folktale interwoven with real-life southern mythology, set in the modern-day Arkansas bayous; literary, graphic, not for the faint of heart

My Heart is a Chainsaw OR The Only Good Indians - Stephen Graham Jones

[MHIAC] slasher horror; not YA despite the protag's age; a teen girl is convinced there's a serial killer on the loose in her town, but no one believes her; [TOGI] cosmic/creature horror; four men "make a mistake" in their youth. that "mistake" comes back to haunt them

Annihilation - Jeff VanderMeer

cosmic/sci-fi horror; okay, this one you can still read the full summary for and walk away unscathed--it's very hard to summarize; technically the first in a trilogy; written by the ann vandermeer's husband (i have met her, too! it was awesome.)

this is getting out of hand so i'll stop here, but... yeah! hopefully something piques your interest (*￣▽￣)b

if anyone's got recs for short-medium length horror comics/manga that would be much appreciated... i wanna get into more of that stuff but i don't know where to start >_<'

[dolliedarlin]

MOMMY! | FOUR ⏤Katsuki B.

BAKUSQUAD ENDEARMENT SERIES PART 2 : KATSUKI BAKUGOU

PAIR. : single dad prohero bakugou x neighbour famous baker reader

SUM. : katsumi loses her temper, bakugou sorts out his feelings and you go on a date - things are never easy but the least you could do was be understanding

LENGTH : 8.4k

G. : fluff ; angst ; single dad bakugou ; neighbour reader ; baker reader ; bakugou is stuck on his feelings ; katsumi is disappointed and angry at bakugou ; katsumi and kirishima are good at planning ; katsumi and ren meet for the first time ; katsumi, ren and kirishima make a great team of cupids ; bakugou can’t ice skate ; cuddles ; yn is an angel ; yn is so understanding ; we don’t deserve yn! ; uh oh ; rivers are a no no

WARNING : curse words ; mentions of drowning ; mentions of loved one passing 

A/N : i’m sorry this took me so long to write! it actually came out longer than i ever anticipated so you dolls are getting fed today! i hope it was worth the wait for you! please enjoy the read while i go to bed finally! 

As expected, the organisers of the gala didn't waste any expense when embellishing the venue in order for it to be suitable for the prestigious heroes atop the various wealthy sponsors and celebrities that would also be in attendance. Despite the decorated setting, Bakugou wasn't feeling too good. There was a weight sitting uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach that made him feel nauseous, which wasn't helped by the decorated dead weight hanging onto his arm as if he was her lifeline.

"I told you to quit clinging onto me, didn't I? Don't use me as an extra crutch when you have your own two feet to stand on," Bakugou scoffed bitterly, looking at said woman with disgust. In the past, he would have been able to put up with multiple women trying to vie for his attention but he was far more irritable tonight. The reasoning behind it was obvious but the stubborn hero was in denial. Why did he even bring this stranger with him in the first place?

"But, Katsuki, I'm your date-"

"Don't call me that," he quickly cut her off. You, yourself, have hardly called him by his first name, so why should she be able to throw it around so casually? It was far more pleasant sounding whenever you called his name too, mainly because you never squeaked and squealed the way she did so your voice didn't scratch his ears like nails on a chalkboard. In fact, your voice was soothing and sweet, much like the many baked goods you were infamous for creating.

He could have gone alone to this gala like he usually did. What in the world made him think that bringing a complete stranger was a good idea? Shrugging off the woman, Bakugou wandered off to the refreshments table at the corner of the venue and grabbed a glass of wine from a roaming waiter. Finally away from the gaze of most attendees, Bakugou slipped into his thoughts under the mature taste of wine.

A distance away was his abandoned 'date' and he watched her as she looked around searching for him but she'll have no luck; he made sure that he was well hidden and moving every so often she wouldn't think to look in the same place twice from the sheer size of the gala. His aimless floating amongst the crowd finally led him to his group of friends and fellow hero colleagues, amongst them was none other than, Kirishima and his significant other.

"Ah! Bakugou!" the instant he heard the red-head's familiar voice, Bakugou wasted no time in getting to Kirishima and his date, Akina, "How are you doing, my man?" Kirishima and Bakugou shared their usual regards, composed of tightly clasped hands and touching shoulders.

"Good evening, Bakugou-san," the elegant lady standing by his friend's side greeted as the two esteemed heroes parted, a greeting that the blonde returned with a silent nod.

"Good evening, Akina, how are you and Ren doing?"

"Very good, thank you," she smiled and gestured to his glass of wine with her own.

"I never knew you were a wine guy,"

Bakugou shrugged and eyes the drink in his hand with indifference, "I'm not one for alcohol at all, usually" this made Akina's brows furrow with concern for a moment before she quickly stops herself and raises a curious brow instead.

"Any reason why tonight is any different?"  

Bakugou hums to himself for a moment, still eyeing his glass of deep red wine. It was a very good question. And he didn't know how to answer.

"...no idea,"

Kirishima, sensing a disturbing difference in his friend's demeanour but knowing not to pry further in such a public event, changes the topic, "Where's your date, I remember little Katsumi saying that you were bringing someone really special tonight," this peaks Akina's interest.

"Katsumi? Is that your little girl Bakugou?"

"Yes," the explosive hero sighs and runs a hand down his face before downing the rest of his wine, "and that person isn't here,"

"What's wrong, man?" Kirishima asked with obvious concern as Akina nodded with equal worry beside him. They were perfect for each other, "This isn't like you...don't tell me something happened with Katsumi? She seemed so happy when we talked and she told me the news about you finally having a date for a social event," Bakugou growled, not knowing how to explain himself. The inner guilt and the conflict of emotions raging through him about you was tearing him down more than he'd like to admit and it's the most emotionally exhausted he's been ever since his beloved passed away.

Noticing the downward shift in mood immediately, Kirishima excused himself, "I'm sorry Akina,"

"You're just being a good friend; you shouldn't be sorry for that Ei, " the two shared a small smile and a brief kiss before the red-headed hero led Bakugou to an outdoor balcony, away from perked ears and prying eyes. Along the way, they witness Sero and Mina dancing the tango in the middle of the dance floor, attracting many eyes due to their hypnotically synchronised movement and carefree spirit. They even caught sight of Kaminari joking around with a woman who couldn't stop laughing at his dopey character, the connection between the two was visible to the naked eye as the electric blonde grinned and kissed the extinguished lady's hand. Although seeing the rest of their friends brought a smile to Kirishima's face, Bakugou only felt ostracised by their merriment. Tonight was supposed to be a good night and now he was already feeling regret and guilt over the way he treated you atop going behind his daughter's back. His broken promise will come to light soon, he just hopes that it takes a while so he can fully prepare himself.

"Tell me what's wrong," The two were already out on the balcony and Bakugou didn't even realise until Kirishima brought him back from living in his head too deeply.

"Nothing's wrong, dumbass,"

"Yeah right, didn't your daughter teach you it's bad to lie?"

This makes Bakugou chuckle and absentmindedly blurt, "just like her mother," Kirishima laughed along with him at the statement.

"She was definitely one of the better heroes out there, perfect for you,"

"Exactly," Bakugou almost teared up. Allowing himself to fall for you would be betraying his first love and that didn't sit right with him but it meant betraying the current love of his life, Katsumi. His was juggling his morals and it was driving him insane. It's never this hard when he has to fight a villain, it's so straightforward whenever he's battling a criminal but when it comes to his daughter and the people he holds dear, it's a different story. Raising Katsumi alone was a struggle he had to endure whilst aiming to be number one but it made him a better person because she was a lot like her mother, righteous and never afraid to call him out on his bullshit. For sure, she would chew him out like a starved dog for his wrongdoing tonight and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"You can tell me what's wrong, you know," Kirishima assured from beside him as he leaned against the railing on his forearms, "I'm always here for you, man,"

"I know, I just...there's a lot happening right now, it's nothing for you to worry about Shittyhair,"

"I don't believe you,"

"I don't care if you believe me or not, just quit worrying already, it's my problem so I'll take care of it myself," there was silence as Kirishima contemplated what he should say next.

"...all I'm going to say is that you should just follow what this is telling you," Kirishima softly jabs at Bakugou's chest, right where his heart should be, "There's no need to overthink things, bro," another silence follows as Kirishima quickly flashes back to the emotional reaction Bakugou had at the mention of his deceased love, "Leave the past in the past and move on to a brighter future,"

Not long after that, Kirishima makes his way back inside to stand beside Akina again as he bid his friend a good night. Bakugou had a lot of assessing to do considering his feelings  in the meantime and decided to call it a night early. This was all just a big charity event and he had already made a generous donation so he can leave at any given time.

The hero sighs in relief that it's gotten pretty late so he's sure Katsumi's already in bed. For now, he'll do his best to prepare for when the questions come in the morning.

Upon arriving home and seeing the familiar sight of his front door, Bakugou sighs in relief. Leaving the gala was the best decision he made that night. It was the best decision he's made ever since he decided to distance himself from you. As much as he wants to deny it, there's a deep ache within his chest that yearned for just the sight of you or even for the melodious sound of your voice. You had a way of captivating others whenever you entered a room, one glance and a complete stranger would be entranced, not only that but you also always seemed to be singing whenever you talked, so reposeful and dulcet was your voice that you could easily pass for a siren on land.

Regardless, Bakugou is sure that his little firecracker is already tucked into bed as it was already way past her bed time. It's currently ten at night so the explosive hero ensures that he treads inside as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert his daughter. Instead, he wanted to seek out the babysitter in order to provide payment for her time before seeing her out the door as per usual.

"Bakugou-san," came a sudden whisper as Bakugou almost jumps out of his skin from taking his shoes off at the door.

"Shut up," he hisses at the individual,"I don't want Katsumi waking up," reaching into his blazer pocket, he clasps an envelope of money and hands it to the babysitter, "here's your payment, thank you for taking care of Katsumi tonight. She's in bed, yes?" Bakugou carries on with tucking his shoes off to the side, expecting the usual answer of Katsumi being in bed already only to grow angry at the answer he's given.

"W-well...she didn't want to go to bed so..."

Bakugou flashes a menacing look and hisses, "Even if she puts up a fuss, you tuck her into bed and don't take no for answer, this is part of your job!..." seeing the babysitter visibly shaking from the growl in his voice makes the blonde relent and force himself to stay calm, "Just get out, I'll tuck her into bed myself. I've already organised a cab for you to get home, it should be arriving down stairs in a few minutes,"

With a soft expression of gratitude, the babysitter bids him goodnight, her voice shaking as she gathers her things and puts on her shoes to begins her journey home. The night isn't over yet and the tension in Bakugou's shoulders return. Knowing that it was just his beloved daughter, however, lessens the load considerably.

"Oi! Dad!" came the call of his daughter just as Bakugou passes the living room door on his way up to her room. Katsumi doesn't usually refer to him as just 'Dad' so the blonde raises a brow, especially at her tone as it was neither welcoming nor warm like it usually was.

"Katsumi, why are you still not in bed, firecracker?" Bakugou rubs at his temples as he slowly approaches her. She's stood in the middle of the living room with her arms folded, brows angrily furrowed and an impatiently tapping foot as if she was counting the seconds it took him to get to her. Katsumi was the splitting image of her mother whenever she was about to rain hellfire on him and it did nothing to help his distress from the night so far.

"That's not the point, Dad! Why weren't you with (Y/N) at the gala?!" Bakugou's eyes flash with panic, which makes Katsumi all the more angry.

"How did you-"

"I know because they were broadcasting it live!" this makes Bakugou curse under his breath and avoid eye contact with his daughter at all costs. He knows what a broken promise means to her so he was definitely getting chewed out for this.

"Don't curse! Swear Jar!" she points to the right side of the living room where a jar was labeled with that exact name and was partially filled with bills of cash and a collection of coins.

"Not now, Katsumi," Bakugou kneels down to her level, "I know I broke my promise but-"

"Yes you did and I'm really angry at you dad!" her voice rose with her puffed-up cheeks and almost made him wince at how she was no longer addressing him as 'daddy'. It emphasised her rage more and Bakugou couldn't stand being on the receiving end of her temper, especially having him be the cause of it made him feel incompetent as a father.

"You need to understand that there are a lot of things going on and some promises have to be broken,"

"That's just an excuse! You pinkie promised and you should never break a pinkie promise; that's a crime!"

"No it's not,"

"Yes it is because Uncle Nari said so," her statement reminded him of the first time Denki made a pinkie promise with her, drilling the concept of promises into her head and about how much her mother valued keeping one's end of promises. Bakugou didn't see a problem with it until the electric hero weaponised the fostered belief in his daughter to subject him to more interviews than he was willing to take up. Granted, it was all for the betterment of his career and fight to become the number one hero but Bakugou still didn't appreciate the electric blonde for using his own daughter against him.

"Everything isn't as black and white as you think, firecracker, you'll understand when you're older,"

"No! I'll never understand why you would ever break a pinkie promise dad! Never! You probably really hurt (Y/N)'s feelings since she couldn't go to the gala and dance and have fun!" Bakugou sighed but she kept going, huffing and puffing and getting red in the face as she shouted her little lungs out with all the passion she had in her small body, "Who was that other lady? She's ugly! She's not as pretty or as nice as (Y/N) and you know it! I bet she doesn't smell like cookies or sing good lullabies or bake really well either! If she's not any of those things than she's not a nice person and you shouldn't have been with her dad!"

"You need to go to bed-"

"Not before you apologise to (Y/N)!" And with that, she storms past him and runs out to your apartment. Bakugou tries to bring her back before she could reach your door but after the exhausting day he's had, he found himself lacking the energy to keep up with his raging daughter. No matter what he does to bring Katsumi back, his little girl wouldn't budge from her stance at your front door. She wouldn't spare him a glance as he tried to pull her arm away only for her to forcefully thrash her arm out of his grip so as to bang her fist repeatedly against your front door.

Katsumi continued to refuse his attempts to bring her back home and, although he knows he could easily throw her over his shoulder, he didn't want to use excessive force on her. He watched in vain as she continueed knocking on your door until you finally pulled it open wearing the cutest pajamas he had ever seen. You were dressed-down but still looked so beautiful and, despite him still being dressed for the gala, Bakugou knew that he didn't look as astounding as you tonight. He'd never admit it, though, how his heart stopped beating for a moment when he was finally able to see your face, hear your voice and breathe again.

"Katsumi-chan? Bakugou-san? What are the two of you doing here?"

"Dad needs to apologise!" Katsumi huffed as you raised a brow, this is the first time you've heard her address him so curtly and without the usual loving intonation in her voice.

"Your dad doesn't need to apologise for anything, dear," despite your statement and disregard of the situation, you still haven't been able to bring yourself to lock eyes with the explosive blonde and, he hates to admit it, but he wishes you would. It was understandable that he wanted to go alone as it was a, somewhat, forced pledge made by Katsumi but seeing the live broadcast and seeing that he arrived with another woman made your heart tear.

"Yes he does because he broke his promise, he even went with some strange ugly lady with an ugly dress and ugly smile and ugly nails! He hurt you and that makes him a bad person," she begins to cry as you kneel down and bring her into your arms, rubbing comforting circles into her back as you try to soothe her.

"Don't cry now, cupcake, it's alright...I'm okay, see?" you pull away slightly and smile to reassure her as Bakugou looks on, not knowing how to process the scene. The two of you just fit together so well, how was this even possible? He never needed anyone else as he raise Katsumi and if it wasn't going to be his former beloved then nobody else would be good enough to stand by him yet, here you were, breaking down all of his expectations. He didn't know what to feel.

"No! He needs to say sorry and he still hasn't!" she wails in your arms, sobbing into your shoulder, "I wanna stay with you tonight! Please, I want a sleepover with you,"

Worriedly, you finally let yourself meet Bakugou's ruby-red eyes but only for a very brief moment, "I'm happy for you to stay the night Katsumi-chan but you need your fathers permission first," you expect Katsumi to turn and asked for her father's consent but she only shakes her head vigorously as she continues to press her face into your shoulder.

"Dad's permission doesn’t matter! I hate him and I mean it this time!" your eyes widen and you take a moment to process what she just said with full confidence and bitterness. It looks as though Bakugou needed the same amount of time, if not, more, to comprehend it too.

"Katsumi that isn’t very nice to say," you become stern as you see the hurt flash in Bakugou's eyes, missing the panic and distress seep into Katsumi's own.

"But it’s the truth! I hate him! He's stupid and mean and he's a promise breaker!" she wasn't budging so you finally address the man in question.

Looking up at the stunned hero, you ask, "is she allowed to stay the night?..."

"...no she isn’t,"  

You expected as much, "you heard your father Katsumi-chan, I can’t have you stay tonight,"

"No! You let me stay all those other times! And even when dad said no, we made him say yes, remember? Make him say yes, now too! Please!"

"This time it’s different Katsumi, I’m sorry," you really were as you pull away from the blonde girl, finding it easier now that her arms were losing their strength. Whether it was from physical or emotional exhaustion, you don't know, "please return home and sleep well, I’m sorry I can’t tuck you in today," you give her a soft kiss on the forehead and an apologetic smile before turning to softly close the door whilst wishing them a gentle 'goodnight'.

Katsumi stares on at the closed door with increasing tears pouring from her eyes. She’s gone completely quiet now, only hiccuping when her heart stutters in her chest from the heart break she had to endure in that moment. This couldn't be happening.  

"Katsumi let’s go home, you need to sleep, it’s way past your bedtime," Bakugou moves to hold her hand for the umpteenth time that night and for the umpteenth time, again, Katsumi pulls away from his advances. This time her gaze is directed at the floor and her voice his quiet and chilling.  

"I hate daddy," this one statement makes Bakugou’s heart drop. He knows it’s not a result of a tantrum that makes her say meaningless things, instead it's purposeful and it frightening that his precious daughter would hate him so candidly, "because of daddy, (Y/N) doesn’t want to be with me..." her small sniffle makes the world come crashing down, "I really hate daddy."

The night before, Bakugou couldn't bring himself to slip into a peaceful slumber despite committing to a healthy sleep cycle around his duties as the number one hero. Katsumi's words of hatred ate away at him all night and it ultimately lead to a panicked call being made and spending the majority of the night talking everything through with Kirishima. He told the red-head everything, even revealing all that was to say about what happened with you so far, how you've made such a natural and strong connection with Katsumi and, despite admiring you for your sincere efforts with his daughter, the swell of adoration blooming within his chest for you made him act out bitterly at the idea of potentially going against his deceased beloved. It was all a mess of words to Bakugou. He allowed everything to spill from him naturally and without order; it didn't matter to him, at the time, whether or not it was comprehensible to the listener in the situation.

There was no need to worry, however, Kirishima knew exactly where he was coming from, especially after going to school and growing up with him, the red-head knows how Bakugou works and listened to all that he had to say. By the end, Kirishima suggested he take a day off work and babysit Katsumi the next day but not before advising that he apologise sincerely for the mistake he made. It was a lot to ask and Bakugou would have refused if he wasn't so sleep deprived and emotionally shattered.

The following day, it wasn't a surprise that Kirishima was at Bakugou's door flashing his signature sharp-toothed grin and bouncing giddily, ready to take care of his favourite niece. For Bakugou, it'll be a tough day to go through but he's relieved that one of his best friends were taking care of his daughter for the day.

"Remember what I told you last night?" Kirishima asked as he stands beside Bakugou at the kitchen counter, cooking up breakfast for Katsumi.

"I'll apologise to Katsumi," satisfied, Kirishima brings the cooked breakfast to the girl in question at the table as the blonde gets to work on cleaning.

Upon finishing up with the cleaning and drying of his hands, Bakugou looks over to see that Katsumi was already halfway done with breakfast. Taking a seat across from her, Kirishima took that as a sign to make himself scarce and made the excuse of needing to go to the toilet so as to give them privacy.

"Firecracker?..." Bakugou pauses, waiting for a response, "Katsumi?..." still no response, "Katsumi Bakugou," all he was able to achieve was a fleeting glance but that was all he needed, "I'm sorry for upsetting you and for breaking my promise...I didn't know it would upset you this much. I should have talked to you and (Y/N) about it first, I'm sorry," still not getting a response, Bakugou sighed and stood from the table, "You're uncle Kiri is taking care of you today so be good,"

Bakugou planned to pick up breakfast on the way to work with a coffee and tried to hug his daughter goodbye like they usually did at the door but Katsumi turned in Kirishima's arms and tucked her face into the red-head's shoulder instead. Defeated, Bakugou sets off to work but not before leaning in to give her a short peck on the cheek. She didn't return his affection but, at least, she didn't pull away.  

"See you after work, firecracker," there was no response and Bakugou travelled to work sleep-deprived and dispirited. Either way, he wasn't going to let it bring him down and distract him from his duties, no matter what happens at home, he refuses to let it impact him substantially at work no matter how heartbroken he was.

The day progressed and as Katsumi finds herself sitting at the table having lunch with one of her favourite uncles, she finds out that he's become a dad to a little boy despite not being blood-related. This immediately peaks her interest as that's exactly what she wants with you.

She starts with little questions, "What's his name?"

"He's called Ren and he's four years old,"

"He's younger than me! Does that make me his oneesan?" Kirishima throws his head back in laughter.

"I suppose it does, huh?" they grin at one another, "I'd love for the two of you to meet, you'd like each other very much,"

"I'm sure I will if you're his dad, uncle Kiri!" Katsumi chimes happily before pausing for thought, "But how come he's already four years old? He hasn't been a baby yet..."

"He has, I just haven't met him until now,"

Katsumi's eyes widen comically and Kirishima has to hold back a snort of laughter, "And you're already his dad?!"

"Well~..." Kirishima sing-songed, "not really but I'm his father figure and he's grown to call me his dad over time,"

"That can happen?"

"Of course it can! I'm proof!"

Katsumi goes quiet, "I want that with (Y/N),"

"Katsumi, listen to me," Kirishima stares softly but sternly into the ruby eyes that were so reminiscent of his best friend's, "it may be possible but it isn't always so simple," this wasn't the answer, Katsumi wanted, "your father has had a lot to go through raising you alone and without your mother around. When they got together, Katsuki was the happiest man alive and that happiness was made ten-fold the instant he heard news that you were going to be coming into the world,"

"Dad really loved me, huh?"

"Yes he did and he still does," this brings tears to her eyes.

"Even though I said all those horrible things?"

"Even then because your dad doesn't know when to quit; he doesn't know when to quit loving you or your mom," Katsumi was silent.

"But...she's not here to watch me grow up...(Y/N) is,"

"That's true but you have to be patient with you dad, he really loved your mother,"

The defeat translated into Katsumi's form as her rigid stance slumped into the softness of the sofa cushions, "...But I- doesn't he also really like (Y/N)?"

"I think he does,"

"Right?!" she's upright again, her eyes sparkling with an abundance of stars, "Daddy can like (Y/N) and be with her at the same time, that doesn't mean he has to stop loving my mom!"

"It's gonna take a while for him to realise that," Kirishima watches Katsumi take on a pondering pose as he holds back a chuckle, "why don't we plan something out for them? And I'll help you carry it out?"

"Yes please, uncle kiri!"

By the time Bakugou arrived home, Kirishima was still there with his daughter but this time, she was willing to speak to and acknowledge him, just that alone made the strength come back to him and erased an entire day of fatigue from his toiled muscles.

"Daddy,"

"Yes, firecracker?" Bakugou kneels down to her level.

"I will forgive you as long as you apologise to (Y/N) properly and make it up to her by going on a date!" by now, Bakugou was willing to do anything to get into his only daughter's good graces as well as make up for his mistake; this was the perfect opportunity.

"Anything for you, firecracker,"

"And for (Y/N)!"

"And for (Y/N)," Bakugou chuckled.

Before the meat of the plan could be served, Katsumi needed to do some scheming with you first and Bakugou allowed her to spend the day with you. With that information, you happily allowed Katsumi to become the main subject of your day and took her to work with you, again, with Bakugou's explicit permission. You were happy that they had mended their bond and that Katsumi wasn't as tearful and broken as the last time you saw her. Truthfully, you were so worried about her that you contemplated paying a visit the next morning but withdrew yourself. You knew that Bakugou was a good father so he'll be able to take good care of her and you clearly weren't welcome before him any time soon so you had to hold yourself back. Your faith was well placed as the duo were back at your doorstep two days later.

"Thank you for not being angry at Daddy, (Y/N),"

"Not at all cupcake," you assure as you move about, tending to the large ovens of your bakery, "I don't know why he did what he did but your father is a man that doesn't do things without good reason, he may not go about things the right way but the good intentions are there," you make sure to lock eyes with Katsumi as you state your final statement, as if to further emphasise your point, "and what more do you really need?"

"...you're too good for Daddy," this makes you laugh aloud with your head thrown back.

The day goes on and you and Katsumi have the best time playing about in your bakery's kitchen, almost getting cavities from the amount of 'taste testing' the two of you were doing. Either way, it was filled with laughter and fun activities that you wouldn't trade the memories of for the world. Soon enough, you were carrying Katsumi home as she carried a box full of goodies to share with her father when they arrive back at the penthouse.

"Sooo..." Katsumi began, side eyeing you bashfully as you both approached the established apartment building.

"Soooo~" you mimicked and giggled, "what do you want to say, dear?"

"When are you next free for the whole day?" you raise a brow but answer nonetheless.

"Hmmm, Saturday? So two days from now," you smile at her as she grins back, "Why? Are you gonna ask me out on a date?~" you tease playfully.

"Nope! But I know someone else who will~" she sang and refused to answer any of your questions for the rest of the journey back.

For the past two days, Bakugou had been brainstorming ideas with Katsumi on what to do during the date. At first, he believed that it would only be one day of planning but as soon as it moved onto the next day, Bakugou couldn't help but become mildly irritated.

"Does it really have to take two days of planning?"

"Daddy, do you want me to forgive you or not?" Katsumi snapped, which had Bakugou raising his hands in surrender.

"Alright, you're the boss,"

"Good! Now stop whining, everything has to be perfect!"

"Bakugou-san?" after hearing a knock at your door, you smiled to yourself and hurried to open it, expecting to see Katsumi after her devious insinuation two days prior but were shocked to find her father, instead. It wasn't unpleasant to see him, you were just worried that Katsumi somehow, forced him into this, "What are you doing here? Is Katsumi in trouble, somehow?" you slowly become frantic with worry for the little girl and Bakugou mentally admits that you worrying for his daughter makes his heart soar.

"No no, that little gremlin is alright," it's time to correct his wrongdoing and he's nervous but willing to do this for Katsumi, "I came here to apologise for how badly I've treated you..." You silently stare at him as he looks away in bashfulness and shame, meeting your eyes again several moments later, "and I know a simple apology isn't going to be good enough so would you consider going out on a-...on a d-date?" by now the explosive hero was red in the face with his brows angrily furrowed to form a menacing scowl, as if to disguise his embarrassment over his uncharacteristic proposal. Your continued silence was beginning to intimidate him more than most villains he's faced against, which is shocking. If it weren't for him glancing your way briefly and seeing the soft smile forming on your face, Bakugou wouldn't know what he would have done to save himself.

"Did Katsumi put you up to this?" you tease, leaning against the door frame with your arms loosely crossed.

Chuckling, Bakugou straightens his shoulders and pulls a somewhat guilty look, "She wouldn't forgive me otherwise...and, besides, I was a dick to you and you didn't deserve that, I'm really sorry about what I did-"

"What did you do?" you pressed, amused by his stuttering at the question but also endeared by his sincerity.

"For pushing you away and distancing myself when you did nothing wrong, for subjecting you to my anger...and for taking somebody else to the gala," he couldn't meet your eyes from the remorse he was subjecting himself to in that moment.

"...why did you do all those things?..." you know it's wrong to press further on such a private and sensitive topic for him but you needed to know where you stood.

Bakugou turns away, "...I can't tell you right now..." for the first time, in a long time, fear grips him and steals his breath away, he's scared about what you may think of him.

"That's alright," that one statement makes me breathe again and he turns swiftly to see your gentle smile and beautiful eyes stare back at him with understanding, "you can tell me when you're comfortable enough, in the meantime, I'll be getting myself ready for our date, I'll try to be ready in 15 at the latest," with another smile, you close the door and leave Bakugou standing stiffly and stunned at your doorstep. He never expected to be forgiven so easily by you. If it was him, he wouldn't have had the same level of understanding you just displayed, even his old love didn't have the same amount of patience and understanding as you. It gave way for a dangerously beautiful emotion to blossom in his chest an emotion he hasn't felt since the love of his life passed.

Not too long into the date the two of you set out on, you immediately noticed Katsumi, another little boy and a familiar hero adoring spiky red hair looking on at the two of you having your picnic at the park from a hedgerow not too far away. Their disguises were so obvious, they stood out like a sore thumb. Bulky sunglasses and a sophisticated all black attire to adorn all three. They looked like they stereotypical spies who belonged in a cheesy spy films.

"Ummm...Bakugou-san..."

"They've been following us ever since we left, the little boy is my nephew and shittyhair's son, do you want me to shoo them away?"

"No no," you giggle, "it's quite comical actually," in an attempt to disguise your laughter, you take a bite of your sandwich and awe at how delicious it is, "goodness, what did you put in this sandwich to make it taste so good, Bakugou-san?"

"Stop joking around, it's just normal ingredients," dismissing the three onlookers to your picnic, you now are having to stifle your giggle from how adorable the grown man looked with such a prominent blush on his face.

A distance away, Katsumi punches the air in victory at the scene.

"Everything is going well for operation lovey-dovey," Katsumi locks eyes with the younger boy beside her and they both smile with a victorious nod.

"It sure is," Kirishima agrees and leads the two kiddos to a nearby bench, holding both of their miniature hands in his massive ones, "but aside from that, let's grab some ice cream, sound good?"

"We get ice cream, Pa?" Ren muses from the red-head's left side, making the hero nod happily.

"Uncle Kiri is the best!"

"Papa is the best!"

"What's your favourite flavour Ren?"

"I like what mama likes!"

"What does your mama like, then?"

"Chocolate!"

"Your mama has good taste,"

"Yup! What does Sumi-oneesan like?"

"Strawberry!"

"Yummy!"

Kirishima is in heaven, listening blissfully to two adorable kiddos that just about reach his knees, chatting away at his feet. Hearts and flowers could very easily be animated in the air surrounding them considering how adorable they both were. If Bakugou were to have another child, he's such Katsumi would make for an amazing older sister.

The next stop of your date was the ice skating rink.

"This is the part where (Y/N) is supposed to be really bad at ice skating so Daddy can catch," Katsumi angrily stomps her feet, ignoring her uncle's suppressed chortles as Ren tilts his head in curiosity, taking in the odd scene before him, "So why is it the other way around?!"

Bakugou was flailing around like a headless chicken as you stood of to the side, perfectly stable and taking to the ice fairly well, "Don't laugh at me, woman!"

"I'm not!...well~"

"This is for Katsumi...this is for Katsumi," Bakugou was practically sacrificing his pride in front of you but he was grateful that there was nobody else on the rink except the two of you as he had rented out the entire vicinity. The only problem was that it made the three spies keeping an eye on them all the more obvious as they occupied the seats furthest from the ice, binoculars fixed onto their eyes. It was unsettling at times but you were able to dismiss it.

"Would you like a hand there, Bakugou-san?" you sweetly offer.

"J-just this once!" the grown man snapped as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"Yes yes you big baby,"

"WHAT?!" the blonde yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls as you finally let yourself laugh loudly, that is, until the explosive hero lost balance in your hold and sent himself and you flying to the cold, hard floor.

"Well...I guess this is kinda what I imagined..." Katsumi mutters, staring on as you and her dad rub at your sore limbs until you finally look up and make eye contact with one another. The trio watched as realisation of the intimate pile on the two of you were subjected to came to mind and you instantly pushed each other away.

"AHH-" Katsumi lashed out in frustration but was luckily cut off by Kirishima's hand over her .

"Pa, Sumi-oneesan said they were supposed to kiss then,"

"Well...I guess not everything goes as planned,,"

"Daddy needs to be more romantic!"

After this, there was a movie that was too mature and action-packed for the kids so Kirishima had to drag a whining Katsumi and a cheerful Ren to another movie theatre for a more child-friendly film. It was really too bad as Katsumi would have witnessed her two favourite parental figures cosying up on a reserved sofa seat newly installed by the cinema. This was just their shadows however and so she wouldn't have been able to notice the crimson red dusting her father's cheeks for the thousandth time that day.

You really smelled like baked goods and you were soft in his arms. It was a feeling he had missed for a long time. With his chin resting on your head, yourself curling up in his larger figure and your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns into his forearm, Bakugou's focus was most definitely not on the film playing out for him to see.

"I hope this is alright," you whispered, giving a final shuffle as you settled into a comfortable position almost sitting on his lap sideways. Throughout, you were blissfully unaware of the hero's flustered state.

"You're fine," he managed to utter, the gruffness of his voice more evident at his hushed tone.  

"Mmmm~" you were very content, "you smell nice, Bakugou-san," Bakugou is an expert when it comes to explosions but the explosion of his heart was not one of them so, as he panicked about the repercussions of that for the whole film, you happily stood at the bridge of almost falling asleep in his arms.

The day finally ends with a dinner at a popular restaurant, where your three spectators occupied a table no more than three meters away. Again, you and Bakugou made the conscious decision to not point them out despite how flagrant their disguises made them appear. Now, they had embellished themselves with fake moustaches, fedoras and a trench coat, they even kept their sunglasses on inside the restaurant. The little boy that made up a third of the trio actually had his moustache constantly slipping off and so Katsumi, with her beautiful blonde hair tucked up into her fedora, kept fixing it for him as you and Bakugou ordered your meals. They made this date better than it already was and you were grateful.

Over dinner, conversations were as smooth and humours as they have been the entire day and you were happy to soon be ending the night in such a jovial mood.

"Thanks a lot for putting up with me," Bakugou suddenly says, arbitrarily and making you look up from your meal, "I know I'm a hard person to get along with so appreciate your effort with trying to get along with me and...and not pressuring me into saying anything I'm not comfortable with disclosing," with this, you smile and reach for his hand so as to comfortingly caress his skin with your thumb.

"Bakugou-san, I understand that things get hard sometimes and that people make mistakes, it's the same case for the people that are healing, whenever you need somebody to talk to, I'll be there for you but if that time isn't now, then I'm not going to pressure you into doing or saying anything. Please don't think of me as someone that will precive you differently just because you aren't willing to open up to me entirely. Take your time, there's no rush,"

You're so understanding and patient…a lot like his belated love.

"Thank you," Bakugou didn't know what else to say except those two words. He wishes he could say more, anything to express the amount of gratitude he feels towards you but the smile you send his way was enough to inform him that you already knew and that it was okay. But that wasn't going to be good enough for Bakugou. He had to say something more, "I like you," it takes both of you a moment to comprehend his confession and when the two of you simultaneously look to the side, you realise that the trio of spies hadn't been able to see the confession as they were too busy scarfing down their food. Thank god.

"I like you too, Bakugou-san," in shock, Bakugou stares at you and finds that your flustered beyond belief at your own confession. It appears as though you were caught up in the moment as well. Katsumi sure had a knack for building up romantic relations, he was beginning to feel quite proud.

"But-" the blonde stutters, not wanting to lead this further than it needs to be led, "I'm not ready to move on yet..." the implication of his statement stunned you. Was that why he's been hesitant all this time?

"That's perfectly fine, Bakugou-san,"

"You're an amazing woman, (Y/N), hard-working, kind, patient and understanding, your perfect," Bakugou begins, releasing his thoughts and emotions on the plate before him, "but I can't give you false hope when I can't stop thinking about Katsumi's real mother," your nodding along in understanding, not offended at all, "She was my first love and I feel as though I'm betraying her if I so much as think of someone else, even though I know that it’s already been five years,"

"Five years since..."

"Since she passed away,"

It was then that you were finally able to piece together the entire story and it was heart breaking.

"Bakugou-san, please don't feel bad and just listen to me..." Bakugou meets your eyes, "I am not going to pressure you into a relationship that you're not ready for even though the feelings are there. It's completely understandable why you would be hesitant and I don't blame you. I'm not angry. I'm not sad. I just want you to know that I appreciate your transparency since this is clearly a sensitive topic for you. I don't intend on replacing Katsumi's mother in your heart when she has a place there specially for her, I'm grateful that she was able to give you Katsumi before her passing and I bet that she was a phenomenal person for giving birth to such a lovely little girl,"

There were truly no words to express how much Bakugou was grateful for you being so perfect.

Weeks passed and even though such dates became a regular occurrence for you and Bakugou, sometimes even including Katsumi, the two of you never made it official and it became the main source of frustration for the little girl at the centre of both your worlds. So, naturally, on an outing just between you and Katsumi, she doesn't miss the chance of confronting you.

"Why aren't you and Daddy together yet mom- I mean (Y/N),"

"It's just not the right time yet, my love, please try to understand," you try to reason, wiping away the stray crumbs on her cheek from the snacks she had been munching on.

"But you two made up didn’t you?"

"Well, y-yes we have but-"

"And you both like each other, right?"

You don't know why but having Katsumi point out the mutual feelings between you and her dad has your heart racing, making a humble nod hard to muster, "w-we do-"

"So why aren’t you getting married and living happily ever after like in the movies?"

"I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, cupcake," you find her imagination adorable, though.

"Why can’t it?" unexpectedly, she begins to get teary eyed and has you fumbling about in your hardback for tissues, "I want you to be my mommy so please," as your kneeling down and wiping her tears away, she’s whimpering and looking a lot more timid and broken then her usually spitfire, headstrong self. It breaks your heart.

"I’m sorry, my love," you hold her in your arms tightly and begin to strokes her hair, "but you need to understand that it’s not that simple and there are a lot of adult feelings and issues involved,"

"Wh-why do grown ups have to be so weird about everything?" huffing angrily, Katsumi wipes away her tears almost aggressively, with her small fist as you reach up and let her blow her nose into your offered tissue.

"I know right?," you laugh softly and nuzzle noses with her, bringing a small smile to her face, "grown ups are so weird,"

"Very weird!"

"We should be more like you," you boop her nose and the both of you giggle.

To cheer Katsumi up more, you text Bakugou that you're going for a walk by the river with Katsumi, where you know there'll be an ice cream stand nearby. Not even a minute goes by and you immediately get the approval you needed however, like a worried, overprotective dad, he reminds you to be careful with Katsumi, especially because she can’t swim. To that, you promise to take good care of her.

"The river is so pretty!"

"Right? But you know what's prettier?" you gesture off to the distance.

"Ice Cream!" without a second wasted, Katsumi was running off, declaring a race to the stand with a laugh as you try to clamber up to her speed.

"Katsumi wait you silly girl!"

"If I get there first I get double scoops!"

"Says who?"

"Me!"

Just as Katsumi was running on the elevated path by the river, a powerful tremor shakes the land as a resounding boom echos from the distance and sends her falling into the river. Acting on pure instinct, you jump in after her with a horrified shout.

"KATSUMI!" you couldn't swim either but you couldn't just do nothing when someone so precious to you was in danger. As a consequence of the shaking of the earth, the river was also sent into a furious frenzy of waves that you battled through to reach Katsumi. You don't know how you made it but with pure adrenaline pumping through your veins, you managed to hoist Katsumi up and out of the ferocious river, relaxing at the sight of her safely on land and immediately getting swept away under a torrent of muddy blue.

Closer to the city centre, Bakugou was on patrol and was promptly alerted to the villain attack. A villain that could create devastating calamity by producing heavy sound waves with a clap of his hands was causing havoc in an area near by. Not too far from the river Bakugou had remembered that you and Katsumi were taking a stroll beside. His heart racing and with gritted teeth, Bakugou rushes to the site, praying to all gods that the two of you were safe.

He arrives just in time to see you haul up his daughter to safety before being engulfed by an angry wave. The violent mountains of water were so powerful, they were hard to swim through for anyone of any caliber in swimming. Nevertheless, Bakugou checks up on his daughter first, assuming you'd be capable of staying afloat and having faith in how capable you were.

Coughing violently and with tears in her eyes, Katsumi screams at her father upon registering his presence beside her, "Daddy! Save Mommy! Please! I-I don't think she can swim!"

PREV. | NEXT.

NAVI. | BNHA MLIST | ENDEARMENT MLIST

i apologise but I needed to delete the taglist as I was experiencing technical issues editing this post e.g inserting a link to the final chapter

[persephoneyss]

Doomeds.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f! Reader. Ft. Bts.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish, suspense.

Summary: ❝We are doomeds, wandering in eternal suffering.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / stalking on cameras, humiliation, unspecified forced marriage, n*n-c*n explicit sexual relations (on the reader), abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use, kidnapping, hitting, manipulation, dating previous trauma, alcoholism and depression (in Yoongi), accusations of infidelity, dub-con (in Yoongi's case), the reader is in school but is of legal age, death threats, really strange facts. Possibly this would qualify as dark fantasy since everything is so unrealistic.

Number of words: 10,000+

︙Author's note: *sighs* This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I honestly don't know how it turned out because I didn't read it twice like I always do before publishing it. But my beautiful baby helped me correct, I hope you enjoy it and please read the warnings well, I do not want lawsuits. Thanks for being here!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

If they ever had to ask the reality of events it would be ... Unbelievable. Thinking of how just a simple action changes everything in an already established and perfect environment.

A life.

Your minutes, hours and days were the same under your criteria and eyesight, you study in the mornings, you work in the afternoons and you attend to your homework at night. It was a good routine that used to be repetitive at times, it was fun to follow, even more so in your part-time job.

You could meet many people working in one of the best cafes in the city, your classmate insisted too many times that you work with her saying that could recommend you and you should not even pass a test, they would only accept you for her.

It was a good opportunity and you accepted it with a smile, although she was long gone from work, you were still grateful for the good salary and health insurance that they gave you every month.

"An American coffee with a spoon of sugar and a green tea cake with cream on top." Your mouth and hand move in sync, the client nods silently. You smile, pointing out other details before asking what name you would give the order.

With a sigh, he name came out like a gust of light wind. "Min... Min Yoongi."

You write his name on the screen, the little receipt paper comes out of the machine. You hand it to him by brushing his hand with yours, strangely cold and pale. A chill runs through you but you ignore it, continuing with your work.

"Good Morning _____!" One of the employees greets you kindly, you correspond still concentrated on serving the mysterious stranger's coffee. "Do you have a request for me?"

"Oh, uh... Yeah, this is for table four."

Yun smiles taking the tray with Yoongi's coffee and cake, arriving at his table. The man's expression can be dazzled even under his black mask that covers half of his face, his eyes look for you before colliding with you. YYou refuse to play along, continuing with your work, you had a lot to do and wasting time flirting wouldn't really help you make money.

However, it became pointless trying to ignore him when he kept coming back day after day. Week after week. Tormenting your head, Yoongi was not the first nor the last handsome man you would see coming often, your work establishment was literally in a strategic area and not cheap, you knew that many men and women with money frequented them to drink a coffee or eat some delicacy, even sometimes they only came in to sit for a few hours attending to their affairs over the phone.

It was fine, it was comfortable. You weren't expecting too much, sitting behind a counter, always having to fake a smile despite being tired.

Perhaps it was the constant visits that led you to start a conversation with him. You had about an hour of rest, you prefer to spend those few moments sitting in front of the window of the premises eating any cake that was a few days before expiring to avoid paying for consumption, you felt comfortable in that place that seemed so far from all the other clients.

Until his voice interrupted once, he seemed as calm as ever. His gaze lost from you elsewhere avoiding making contact with you, nervous apparently. His rough and austere tone was changed to a bolder and lower one, asking if he could sit next to you for a few minutes.

"Sure, sit down... he's not busy." It was your answer without having any problem in sharing your place so secret, so comfortable. It was still just as safe even with him present.

And in much the same way, everything became a silent routine. You heeded his order, you took your rest next to him and then you both left at one point. The talks became more common, he being the first to ask about such insignificant things as the rise in the market in the country and how prices should start to rise in coffee as well.

You laughed, you really did it by getting his attention and sharing your reaction.

They both started laughing at how strange it all started, and it was always the perfect anecdote to tell their friends about how they met.

Everything was perfect, like a painting by a great artist, what you would see would be beautiful and cheerful colors, adorning both of you possibly holding hands with a smile and a loving expression from the man who was now your partner. Her pale skin and angelic face represented on beautiful thin paper, presented to the world as a painting that reflected a symbol of love between two souls met in a casual cafe and who wanted each other so much. Too much.

Yoongi was the clear representation of an ethereal person, casual and elegant, polite and kind, protective but not possessive. Simply to the target.

Your routine didn't change much after starting your relationship, you kept walking to your school in the mornings, you attended the cafeteria in the afternoons and you rested at night. Perhaps the only significant thing that you would get out of your boring schedule was your boyfriend's proposal about moving with him to the house of his best friend, almost a brother as he described it, and avoiding paying for your little apartment. You had made one and a thousand excuses, making Yoongi shut them all up.

"Jin is my brother, he would never take advantage of us. I already mentioned the proposal, about you... I have been living there for a few weeks, I assure you that you will be like family."

Family?

Your face relaxed for a few seconds, you had abandoned that feeling and sensation long ago since you moved from your home in your native country. Your mother used to call you every night but little by little that habit was lost, she also had her own problems and being aware of you as if you were a child was ridiculous.

"It's fine." It was your final decision, nervously you moved your hands in the air explaining what you would not accept.

Do not invade your privacy.

You had spent days thinking about how to introduce yourself to them, because apparently there would be more than just Jin, Yoongi and you in that house. Your things were scattered in boxes, you stood in the middle of the almost empty room still nervous about meeting new people and friends of your boyfriend.

That they were now family. Literally family.

The moving truck was parked in front of a large house, it had two stories and an incredibly large garden. More like a forest than an ordinary garden, you got out of the car trying to clean your clothes as much as possible and look presentable. Although it was difficult when your whole body was covered in dust after lifting the boxes.

"I'm not ready, Yoon." You say, containing your anxiety that vibrates to the surface of the skin within you.

Her hand gently brushed your cheek, giving you a bit of reassurance. "You look beautiful, they will accept you anyway." Her lips came up to yours, giving you a quick and soft kiss. "I just remember that I love you, and I know all my brothers will too because you are perfect."

You thanked the little compliment in a whisper, the door of the house opened just after the two of them left, you automatically showed a friendly smile approaching the first person to leave. He was a tall and rather handsome man, he seemed very well dressed to be indoors on a Sunday, more like he was going out to an important business meeting. He looked flawless and elegant.

"The suit was not necessary, Nam!" Shouted your boyfriend behind you mocking, the man laughed showing all the charm of him to your eyes.

"I'm Namjoon, Yoongi's friend. Nice to meet you... _____, right?"

"Yes, it's me. Sorry to see me so disastrous, it was a tiring day with the move."

Namjoon seemed like a very nice and incredibly understanding guy, his presence made you want to meet your boyfriend's other friends. You opened the door entering the house after Yoongi asked you to find your room to start carrying the other things, Namjoon stayed behind to help him, leaving you alone on your unknown route. You walk all over the place and you are surprised that you only walked through the living room, your eyes straying to a noise in the kitchen.

Curious.

You ignore it, continuing your way up, you read every name on the doors. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All written brilliantly on each different door, you walk a few steps to one that says your name and you thank it with a sigh.

You weren't surprised by how big it was, everything inside that place seemed to be exorbitant and out of the ordinary.

"Oh, it must be you." You are surprised to hear a voice behind you, you turn around in fear before remaining calm. You recognized her face from a photo Yoongi had on her phone.

"Jimin?" You ask with fear of being wrong.

"It's me, it's nice to finally meet you. Jin-hyung said you're moving in a few days, I didn't think it would be so soon." His voice seemed to be calm but there was a hidden question. Why? Why were you there?

You take a few uncomfortable steps back. "It really was, but ... I thought it would be better to do it today that I don't have classes, plus Yoongi doesn't work this day and it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if bother you."

"No you don't. it's okay, Welcome." With that one simple word he left.

You thought you would have a longer talk with him but you weren't expecting too much, they didn't even know each other and you plan to chat with him like they were old acquaintances. Well, naive.

It seemed strange to you that no one else showed up in the whole house, even when you were uploading the last boxes of the move no one seemed to be a little curious to meet you. Aside from the already friendly Namjoon and the reserved Jimin.

"Yoon" You get his attention, he smiles at you taking the sheets out of your suitcase and making your makeshift bed ready for the night. "Do your friends work today?"

"I guess so, they really don't spend a lot of time together or at home." Explain without noticing your downcast face. You nod, putting the issue aside and concentrating your eyes on arranging your clothes. "Hey... Okay, you can meet them all at dinner today."

Your chest clenches in anguish, "Dinner?!"

"Yes, darling. It's the only time they meet all day, when Jin-hyung cooks for us especially on days like these where we have pleasant surprises."

You purse your lips annoyed, Yoongi smiles kissing your forehead so carefully and lovingly that it melts your senses. The mere presence of him made you want to continue with him forever, you relax for a few seconds hugging his body in silence. They both stay like this, with nothing to say but telling each other everything at the same time.

The thought of ever letting go scares you.

You wait several hours, still sitting in the same place where Yoongi left you. You should be presentable for dinner, you take a quick shower before running to change into a nice comfortable dress, you try not to overdo it but also not show disinterest. From the stairs you hear everyone's mixed voices, chatting animatedly.

"Honey, come here." Yoongi watches you, being the only one to notice that you were peeking in the shadows still unsure of interrupting.

You say hello by walking a few steps until you reach your boyfriend's side, you present yourself the best you can. Everyone falls silent, Namjoon smiles at you just like he did before. Jin interrupts the moment where no one seemed to have anything to say about you, or if he wants to want to introduce himself.

"Today we have a special guest, the dear girlfriend of our brother. I introduce myself, I am Jin the official cook of this family." His body bends down with an exaggeratedly long bow, proud of his words. Jimin rolls his eyes, while his other siblings just choose to tease. "On Yoongi's orders we made her favorite dish, so I don't want any complaints of any kind about the food. I'm looking at you Jungkook."

You are surprised how well everything is going, you feel praised when your favorite food is in front of you. She looked just as elegant, as if you were eating in a five-star restaurant and at a luxurious table with silk tablecloths.

Jungkook still stayed away from the talks, preferring to eat quietly and fiddle with his phone. Hoseok was more animated, asking about you and exaggerating anecdotes that happened with his childhood friends. He moved you that he will still remember all that after years. Namjoon vaguely drew your attention with book recommendations when you commented on your love of reading, Jin quietly continued eating in complete tranquility, Jimin thanked the food and just left.

Taehyung... He seemed interesting to you, he was looking at you all the time with narrowed eyes and when Jimin got up and walked away, he followed closely with a small and almost hidden smile.

You had a strange feeling inside what they called home.

"I-I... I need to use the bathroom." You say goodbye by wiping your lips with a napkin before quickly walking behind them both. Something attracted you to want to know more, as if they were leaving clues knowing that curiosity killed the cat and that you wanted to be the one.

Your steps were quiet, even more so when you tried not to be noticed . You went upstairs listening to their voices whispering and then... An obscene moan was clearly heard, Jimin seemed to laugh in the air.

Your hands shook thinking of opening the door and seeing what was happening. And without knowing it, you had fallen into the same network of attraction as them.

You curse yourself biting your tongue and cheek until they bleed, sure that you were going to make a big and heavy mistake. Minutes later you are going down the stairs back to the table but no one is waiting for you anymore, the table was just as spotless and clean. You are pleasantly surprised to learn that they don't treat you like a guest and that they don't wait too long for you. Maybe they had things to do, however you feel a chill when silence comes.

Where were?

You look around the yard, but no one is outside. Neither in the kitchen and less in the room where you had already walked twice. You catch the sound of drums in your ears rumbling loudly, you close your eyes in a daze for a few seconds until in an instant it goes away, and then everything comes back to itself. You hear their voices upstairs, chatting animatedly for the second time.

"Where were you sweetie? Are you okay?"

You nod still confused. How did they... When was that... You were really fine? You refuse to fall into paranoia and lie down next to Yoongi, as they continue their conversation with each other. Your head keeps spinning with the fresh memories you have, but they seem to disappear second by second and it scares you, you open your eyes without wanting to fall asleep yet but it is as difficult as breathing.

You fall into the dark abyss of sleep, feeling the same chill.

Your gaze is lost in the gray sky, you are cold and your body is swaying. Your eyes move restlessly observing that you are under the snow and a person holds you in his arms through the forest, walking at a slow and safe pace.

It's fine. Are you okay.

Wake up. Yoongi greets you from the door of your now room, you try to regulate your breathing thinking that he would notice your overwhelmed state and he would worry, but no. He is as calm as ever, relaxed even.

"Good morning beautiful, it's time for breakfast. Jin-hyung made your favorite." And with that last sentence she is shifting away, closing the door behind he.

You go down the stairs ready to go, your backpack resting on your shoulder. The table is just as full as at dinner, Jimin seemed very tired trying not to fall asleep, you watch him for a few seconds before looking at Taehyung who ignores you taking his cup of ... Coffee. You approach making him recoil alarmed and disgusted, you check the cup realizing that it is the same recipe that you use in the cafeteria.

Like them?

You look up noticing that, you were uncomfortable, Taehyung takes a few steps away from your body almost leaning against his, still sitting in his chair. You apologize to him making me sigh irritated, still ashamed you apologize again without eating or serving anything, just leaving through the front door.

Your journey is reflective. You forget, dream and recognize, that was the pattern you were following, everything seemed so strange and deep down gloomy, you feel the already casual chill running through your entire body almost like a warning.

Your seat in class was empty waiting, ready for you. Ari greets you, being your table companion and friend.

"Hey, intense night?" She jokes, you look shaking his head. She laughs pointing your neck. "You have... something there."

She frowns even more confused, her face leaves her smile aside and she starts looking at her things until she takes out a small mirror and she hands it to you. You look with horror at a large red bruise painting on your skin, it seemed painful but you had not even noticed or felt it. You touch it still scared and nothing, it doesn't hurt or it seems real.

You take a deep breath before lying with silly chatter, "I had an accident, but I'm fine. I had forgotten I was there, it was nothing serious."

Ari seems worried but in the end she forgets it by returning to the same kind and joking attitude of her, but her gaze drops from second by second to your neck making you cover yourself uncomfortable. Who? It can't be Yoongi, he was always very calm in that regard. You think terrified, your hand goes up to touch it and this time you manage to feel a sharp pain.

You have to cover it with the collar of your shirt so that no customer will notice it and avoid staining the reputation of the cafeteria, you smile nervously taking orders as fast as you can and avoiding looks. Yun greets you like every day, arriving at his work time. You spend hours begging for the clock to advance faster, the night sky appears and the doors close, you clear the last counter before you can finally show your neck again and breathe.

"That's a big problem." Yun whispers looking at the horrible mark, you nod with a sigh giving the same stupid excuse you told Ari. "You should use a little makeup to cover it up, I think it will help you a lot."

You think about it for a few seconds before deciding what you would do. You bow to him with a bow after he offered to close in your place and finish the remaining work for you.

You come home with a smile, you greet Namjoon who is reclining on the couch in the living room watching something on TV. You wait a few seconds but you do not receive a small or accidental look, you approach a few steps to repeat it again but you only get him to get up and go upstairs closing the door of his room apparently with a door slam. What the hell? You think covering your face with your hands looking for some comfort.

Everything was happening inside you, it was like a whirlpool sweeping away your sanity. Were you going crazy? Or you were just thinking a lot about nothing.

You try to draw a picture of your situation, but the only thing that repeats is the constant painting of Yoongi and you together.

"Yoongi!" You say to yourself with a smile, you drop your backpack running towards his room, wanting to see him after such a day.

Your hopes fade like air, everything within the space him screams 'he', but he is not there. You check the safe time that he should be home at that moment. You hear Jin's voice screaming from below about dinner ready, you sigh losing your appetite at those moments.

You lie on your bed checking your cell phone in case there was a message from Yoongi warning about he delay but nothing. You feel empty for some strange reason, but there was nothing different about it now.

If I had been more attentive and conscientious, you would have noticed that two more people other than Yoongi and you were missing from the table. Jin smiles sitting in his same place leaving your plate not caring without you being there with them, his smile never fades even when all his brothers are sitting silently eating and looking at your empty place so intensely that it was terrifying, he squeezes the cutlery in his hand without wanting to break the tradition in his family.

Dinners are sacred and no one should be missing. There will be no discussions or complaints, that's what the rest of the time is for.

That was what her mother said, sitting at the table in her old home containing her anger at seeing her husband so calm after having been unfaithful once more. Not on the table, not on the table.

Not on the table, honey.

Jimin opened the last bottle with a little satisfaction, poured another glass before handing it to his friend who was only glaring at the ground.

"She's not like that... I know her." Repeating the same stupid prayer for hours, Taehyung rolled his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, looking at his other friend insisting that he help him.

"Yoongi-hyung you saw it yourself, she had that... That mark. you didn't do it, maybe Tae is right and she-..."

"Not!" I scream interrupting what to him were lies. "_____ she's my girlfriend, she's not like that. I know her ... she loves me! She loves me! Do you understand?" Says exalted, holding the shirt of his friend who closed his mouth immediately, Jimin noticed that same reflection of anger in him and knew it was better to leave it for now.

Taehyung pushed the drunk Yoongi away from his side, making him release him and repeat the same phrase as in his state, he tried to believe himself.

The door to your room was opened and the smell of alcohol invaded you, making you look disgusted. You closed your eyes without wanting to see him, his body fell to the side of your bed approaching your body so slowly that the anxiety inside you doubled.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

His hands rested around you, giving you that warmth so familiar and comfortable in your gray days. A sob was heard while you lost yourself in your own thought, you watch it melt into your arms crying and without wanting to tell you why.

"It hurts." It's the only thing it says. But... Why?

You wake up. Just like a week ago, days had passed and it seemed like your skin kept accumulating horrible marks all over the place. You even went to consult a doctor but he only insisted that something... Or someone did them with such fury that it was incredible that a piece of skin will not be torn off by the force of his suction.

You touched the last mark that came, it was dangerously close to your crotch, you try to hide the others with makeup but they were still visible at a short distance.

You went down the stairs to see them all again, you greet with regret taking the first thing you find. Your mug had your name written on it, it was a rather curious gift from Jin after your melancholic night with Yoongi days ago, he apologized explaining that he felt bad after hearing all the sobs and apologies. For a moment you thought it was something exaggerated but he kept insisting that he felt bad about himself, not with Yoongi who was almost his brother or with you, with him.

You accepted it without wanting to show your dislike for his selfishness and narcissism, thanking him so softly that he hardly heard you.

The special drink that morning was coffee... Americano. You felt insecure to drink it, and you just put it aside.

Same recipe.

Yoongi looked at you for a few seconds before smiling fondly, and you just looked away, leaving him with a confused face as you walk out the door so quickly that he can hardly feel you.

He sighed before being drawn to Jimin's grin-adorned face, he shrugged, hinting at his silent opinion. She is not faithful to you Yoongi, why do you keep waiting for something good? Only looks at her body, her attitude and who she surrounds herself with, it is a classic of womens. You will know that she is a fox hidden under her sheepsuit, just observing her more and you never leave her.

The marks on your body, your cold attitude made him more and more suspicious and fall for Taehyung's profound words. She bit his lip, refusing to spy on your life away from him... Out of his sight.

But he really wasn't doing anything wrong, just observing. In his now dirty head, everything was valid if he could know the truth.

You did the same thing you always told him on his nights where they stayed up talking about his heavy days. You went to school, to work, and then home. Nothing changed your version.

I try to focus on your friends, there was only one girl you spent more time with in your classes and after them. He researched everything about his life, but he had nothing to worry about after learning that he had a boyfriend. He passed your work, standing outside for hours waiting to see you do something dirty or guilty, but you never seemed to move.

You just served the orders and then kindly said goodbye to the customers. He felt guilty for doing something so low to you, until he saw you.

To you.

Your smile grew when one of the workers who was your partner approached your place in the box to whisper something in your ear, you left your place following him towards the warehouse.

Anger consumed him quickly, refusing to continue standing there observing the obvious, possibly he was being irrational and he knew it but the constant insinuations of Jimin. The conversations with Taehyung, his words, his suspicions, the pleased looks from they when he fell back at his feet asking them to tell him what to do with you.

With his damn relationship.

Where were you and him. Not them. You and he.

He opened the door to your room and started going through your things like a degenerate, something must have made him sure that you were cheating on him. Something, a letter, a note, a gift from him, or a simple cheap jewel.

This was your Yoongi? You were clearly looking at another subject.

"Yoon..." You started, his eyes coldly piercing you. He looked different, he was looking at you but you didn't feel safe being so close. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I do?" He asked how else he will not point to the obvious, for a moment you thought that even if it was, out of respect or dignity, he would try to deny it or find another explanation for his actions so offensive to you. "Where is?"

"Where is what?" You claim, starting to get angry, his eyes leave you again as he continues searching through your drawers, dropping everything to the floor with thudding noises. You get closer trying to push it away but you only get rejection. "Stop it, Yoongi."

"Not until you say so."

You freeze without knowing what he meant by the latter, you take his arm to stop him but you only receive a push that makes you back away this time scared by the force of his attack. "Enough!" You claim this time by making him look at you with his cold eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about and why you're doing this, but enough."

"Then say it..." You shout again that you don't know what he wants you to say, you even curse furiously making him come closer to support your shoulders with his hands bringing you closer to his face. "Say it damn it! Say you're cheating on me with that bastard son of a bitch!"

You feel the pain of his grip, you sob, begging him to release you but are ignored as he continues to ask you to say so. You refuse to lie, especially with something so degrading.

Jin hears the screams as he continues serving the dinner desserts, Jungkook strangely puts aside his phone for a few minutes to thank him with a small toast and a smile that was rarely seen on him.

"The dessert tonight is sweeter than usual."

Jimin raises his glass with a bright smile, Namjoon adjusts his tie tied perfectly around his neck as he sips from his glass, Hoseok laughs eating the delicious cake with enthusiasm.

Curious, a green tea cake with cream on top.

"It's a shame Yoongi-hyung misses out on dessert." Taehyung speaks pretending a pout on his lips, playing with his spoon with the cream on her plate. "It is especially exquisite today."

"Stop playing already, when will you do it? I'm looking forward to getting started." Jin snaps angrily, pushing the cake out of her sight as he drinks from her wine glass.

Jungkook laughs, turning his phone back on to continue playing as usual. "So impatient, hyung." He says he with a click of annoyance.

Jin rolls his eyes, following her gaze to Jimin who is innocently cowering in her chair. Ignoring how completely obsessed Jungkook is with his games, it really was not his business,for something his youngest friend had his parents, who were too busy with their work, they ran the largest electronics factory in the country, leaving his son in the background just giving him everything he asked for without objection. Always showing a smile when little Jungkook came before them demanding a new console or the best phone.

"It only remains to wait..." Whispering, he released a patient Hoseok. His smile as charming as ever. "For her to decide what to do and then... Plot! She fell into the wrong well."

"I hate when you describe and talk like that, but I can't expect much from a Jung... like you."

However, Hoseok never stops smiling even when anger is consuming his mind causing him to clench his fists under the table and bite his tongue inside his mouth, hidden by his gleaming and visible teeth. Namjoon smiles at her, knowing that she managed to provoke him but that she won't do anything to shut him up.

"Pathetic."

Motherfucker.

Jin breaks the tense silence, shushing everyone with a snap. That silence. Nobody hears anything from you or Yoongi, for a moment they feel the anguish that something bad has happened or that his friend has lost a bit ... The hand. But just seconds later you're rushing down, wearing the same clothes and your face covered in tears. You don't even look at them when you run to the door, leaving a trail of emptiness behind you.

"Hm, intense." This is Jungkook speaking, his eyes still lost on the phone screen of him playing a silly online championship. "She will be fine after hours."

"Jungkook is right, now we must move with Yoongi."

Namjoon gets up walking to your room, surprised that everything seems almost the same as it was before their fight.

He smiles when he manages to see his friend laying on the floor sobbing, and like that children's book called Pinocchio, he feels good being that cricket-shaped voice of reason. Only this time that sweet and serene voice, released one and a thousand blasphemies that would contaminate even the most devout by his beliefs.

He managed to convince Yoongi's easy to manipulate mind, blurting out words almost like a song. Playing with the naive self of hes that still lived and breathes inside him.

You had come home after days of spending with Ari and her boyfriend away from him. You really didn't want to set foot in that house again in years, a small irrational part of you believed that it was all his fault, your real problems started when you set foot in that damn place.

You open the door observing the room in the same way, empty. You try not to make yourself feel ready to go to sleep, without having been able to do it in days, but now you doubted that it would be different here.

You remain static in view of everyone, you had forgotten that at that time they were having dinner together. They only met once a day and it had to be right there.

"Good evening, sorry to interrupt." You ignoring Yoongi's gaze that, he's trying not to get too excited about your return, even though she causes he to euphoric whirl. "Carry on, I'll just go to my room."

"Please no, sit with us."

"I'm not well."

"I insist, sit with us. They were difficult days but I know they can fix it." Jin puts a plate in front of one of the empty chairs, you refuse to sit down but you do it out of compromise.

Everyone seems to be exclusively quiet, dinner was gray, like a black and white painting. Remember the first dinner, where everyone seemed to have so much to say and now that was left behind, Jungkook continues to play with his phone sometimes moving his plate by accident, without touching a single silverware with the intention of eating. Jin eats in peace, so slowly that he is strange. Namjoon reads a book in his hand, eating so cleanly that it's amazing.

Hoseok looks at you playfully from time to time, with a smile that almost makes you smile the same. Jimin and Taehyung seem to communicate silently, they both look at each other with slight grimaces and smiles.

"We can talk?" Yoongi whispers, you feel her breath next to you and instinctively you walk away scared. Still hurt by her actions and attitude, you give your vow of silence by standing up and without saying goodbye, you walk up the stairs.

"How rude." Jungkook interrupts, keeping an eye on his screen lighting up his beautiful face. "He didn't even taste the food."

Yoongi looks at Jin, her oldest friend and the one she trusted the most, seeking some advice. But just gets the same treatment as always, a look insisting that go with you and try to fix her mistake.

However, it was late. You had packed a makeshift suitcase by going down as quietly as you could, exiting through the back door like a thief or a fugitive.

You spent days thinking about your cowardly way of running away, but in the same way you felt better and even more so when you did not receive any message from him. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, it hurt but it also relieved you.

You knew it would be awkward to see him in the face again, but you should go back and get your things over with as soon as possible. You naively thought of forming a friendship, a very distant one, but in the end it would be the healthiest thing for both of you.

"______?" Asked the person who opened the door after you barely managed to ring the bell due to nerves, he was clearly confused.

"W-good morning ... Jin." You greet by taking a few steps back to get a better look at it, you had forgotten how tall it was. "Sorry to bother I just wanted to -..."

"Talk to Yoongi? I'm sorry but he's already better without you, he even met someone new." You were surprised by his austere, sour tone and trying to intimidate you. "And you better go, you are not welcome here."

"No ... No, I-I came for my things but I'm glad to know that it's better now, and that ..." The words stayed in your mouth, almost as if it hurt to admit it. "I was able to find someone, I hope we can be friends. Also with you, I'm sorry I left without explaining or saying goodbye properly."

You waited what seemed like ages for her response, and you expected more than a simple nod of the head, letting you pass without a hitch. You searched your room quickly, trying not to have any contact with any of them for now. You opened the door that had your name on it but you were scared by what you found inside, the whole room had been painted blood red, a very dark color that managed to give you such familiar chills.

"What is this? Where are my things?!" You turned around ready to go and claim but the door closed behind you with a stormy noise. You ran to try to open it but it did not move an inch, you searched the whole room for something useful to help you but it was completely empty, and alone.

You sobbed in fear, not understanding what was happening and why it seemed that the walls were getting narrower every second. You fell to the ground, trying to stay calm and without losing your goal, hours and even days passed for you, you waited to hear at least one noise but everything was so quiet that you had to avoid going crazy, you played with your hands trying to distract yourself and think positive things, you had read many books about stressful situations to know that thinking a lot about those things caused even more stress, you lie on the floor sure that a nap will calm everything down, if it was a nightmare you wanted to wake up and if not , you wanted to dream that it was.

A lock, you hear that particular noise and you wake up. You open your eyes as fast as you can lifting your body, the door was slightly open as if someone was exiting. You scream for help but it closes, you fall back into sadness and despair screaming even more for your freedom.

You didn't deserve this.

You look with regret at the delicious food they left for you, for a moment you think about going on a hunger strike but your stomach demands you not to be so stupid. The same would not change anything. Regardless of manners, you eat as fast as you can, dropping quite a bit of food on the ground in your rush.

It had an exquisite taste, and you could recognize it everywhere. It was one of your favorite dishes, you felt disgusted to compare it to your mother's food, but as magnificent as it was, it reminded you so much of her.

You wait for something to happen, but minutes go by in which you just look at nothing, letting your head fly. Thinking of a thousand things, playing with the spoon and singing in a low voice.

You feel hot from one moment to the next, your vision becomes cloudy and the door opens again. You just stay in the same place, you don't care about anything, not even how they hold you by helping you walk into another room.

"You were right, she is very calm now."

You look at him, their faces so familiar and you try to place them, but your head is flying away at that moment. You close your eyes laughing, and drifting into unconsciousness.

You wake up. You open your eyes and you are tied, you struggle with the ropes that hold your arms while the bed below you makes your body bounce. You touch the sheets realizing that they are extremely soft, you are in an unfamiliar room surrounded by scarlet red, with elegant and shimmering decorations. You try to stand up but your legs, like your hands, are tied.

And you're still quiet because of the rag in your mouth.

You fight the bindings furiously, screaming into the cloth as much as you can get sick of being locked up again.

You think of Yoongi, although at that moment it was irrelevant you wonder where she is and if she knew that she was being kidnapped in such a way, would she help you at least? Resignation covers you completely, fighting the bonds again with such force that you feel like they burn your skin every time you move.

You sob, just as he did one fall day.

Yoongi watches you from the monitor in another room, Jin is talking to Namjoon to the side while Jungkook is still sitting in a corner entertaining on her phone. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok seem reluctant to look at each other despite facing each other.

Remember the day, the one in the past, when he met them. Jimin and Taehyung were already friends playing in one of the children's castles, with their hands pretending to be weapons as they ran around. Hoseok was sitting next to his mother, talking and apparently they had a lot to say. Namjoon did not detach from the side of his father who urged him to go up to the games, while Jin was busy collecting Flowers in a basket that his grandmother was holding.

They were all strangers and even more so he, felt out of place surrounded by so many games and away from home. His parents had freed up a whole day to spend together in a decent park, it was several hours of travel from Daegu to Seoul only for his son to play in a beautiful park surrounded by luxurious buildings.

He dropped down next to her mother, hugging her without wanting to let her go.

"Min Yoongi, we didn't take this trip just for you to sit there all day, son."

"I'm scared..." he whispered, biting her lip and hiding her face in the neck of his beloved mother.

"I see... but the games look so much fun. Run and try them, love."

He nodded still uneasy, walking over to one of the swings where he sat rocking so slowly that he seemed still. He felt hands pushing his body from behind, scared he looked at the boy behind him, he had a smile on his face and waved him with a hand.

"Sorry, I thought you needed to be pushed." He spoke and did not seem at all nervous.

"I'm fine, but thank you..." There was a momentary silence before he interrupted again. "I am Yoongi."

"Hoseok, although my mommy calls me Hobi."

He smiled, offering himself this time to push the swing, they spent minutes like this just helping each other take a walk pleasantly. He didn't even think about it when Hoseok offered to talk to Jimin and Taehyung about how they'll all play together in teams.

Now in the present, he smiled again remembering how he met Jin that same day, he had collided with him when he was running so as not to be caught by Jimin. His older friend was flushed with anger, screaming for her flowers and his dirty clothes. His grandmother teased him a bit making him deny even more, he followed Yoongi for several minutes until the chase because of her desire to hit him became a game.

They both fell to the ground tired, laughing before Hoseok introduced himself to Jin. Namjoon arrived shortly after, curious about the commotion and why he had gotten bored of sitting for so long, as he explained later. Besides that his father didn't have the best conversation starters.

He cried so much that very day when he had to go home again, promising to return soon.

"We have everything ready, are you ready?" Jin stood next to him, his eyes looked at him but he couldn't recognize his childhood friend. The same one that he offered to organize his birthday parties when his parents could not afford them, the same one that he never took advantage of his money to lower it. The one who hugged him as many times as he could when he came out of his therapies after his parents died.

Who was this man?

"Y-yes." He murmured still stunned. He got up, following in his footsteps with his head lowered.

They opened the door showing him, you were distracted biting the cloth in your mouth and trying to move your hands to free them.

Your body felt the same repetitive chill making you look at them feeling their presences so... uncomfortable.

"Enough." Jin ordered as you continued your insistent useless movement, trying to free yourself. "I'm not playing around, stop."

Me neither, idiot. You clench your teeth as much as you can at not being able to say it out loud, you stubbornly keep moving even faster than before. Your hair falls on your face from your busy tossing and you stare at him, challenging his patience and judgment.

You try not to tremble when he approaches you with intentions that deep down manage to scare you. But you continue, the bed moves as fast as you do until his hand falls against your cheek causing a gasp to come out of your gagged mouth.

"Hyung!" Yoongi claims holding her hand to prevent her from trying to hit you again, you feel the particular burning on your right cheek and the tears growing back in your eyes. "Please, no blows. That was not what we agreed on."

Jimin cleared his throat, a satisfied smile on his face, "We never specified anything, actually... Yoongi-hyung."

"Jimin is right, you never specified any kind of restriction for her and us." Namjoon clarified making you look at them confused, it was as if they were talking in terms of employment or contract.

But you had never signed anything.

"B-but they can't do that, they'll never accomplish anything if they force her." He tried to persuade him but Jungkook sighed, dropping his phone to the ground and then stepping on it like it was worthless. "She will just hate them."

"She will do it anyway, if we let her off her or try to convince her to stick with sweet words she won't think twice and she will run away ready to report us for kidnapping."

"In addition to the damages that she suffered here." Namjoon continued to condemn Jungkook, uplifting her surname and her family's status.

"You are in this with us or against us, there is still a free place in the basement for you with chains just as heavy."

Again, the same chill ran through you causing you to cringe in your place. These men were insane, they were capable of betraying each other, and worse, they could possibly also consider shooting themselves in the back when they weren't looking at each other. All for you, as if you were some kind of prize for winning and owning.

After moments that seemed eternal, Taehyung was releasing your mouth as you began to complain about what they were doing, how they dared and demanding freedom.

Really a classic, so much so that it was witty and hilarious that you said it literally.

They forced you to kneel on the ground with your hands on your legs still perfectly tied. More questions filled your mouth not knowing what they were planning, all you could do was look at them so scared it was adorable.

"Uh... Well... I guess one should go first." Jin says, taking a few steps away from your crouched figure.

Jimin stepped forward, standing in front of you causing you to look up from your spot below him.

"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, you try to drag yourself away when his hand struggles with his pants to remove it but Jin holds you in place. Getting on his knees to speak into your ear softly.

"You better take a breath instead of trying to run away, honey. I thought you were smarter... hm?" He laughs mocking your scared face, you refuse to open your eyes and mouth making him stop laughing in annoyance.

Jimin sighs taking your face in his hands so roughly that they will surely leave a purple mark on your skin. He was still dressed, I was hoping I could humiliate you more and then fuck your mouth until you suffocate while his hyung explains everything to you. How it all started, his obsession, his plan, they had planned everything so perfect that it was terrifying, everything monopolized on one board.

Soon as soon as possible you will just be a cute housewife and you will forget your life before that day. Not for nothing did they have a closet full of cheerful and homely outfits ready for you, they wanted to destroy you and then put you back together just to serve them.

You would be his wife, of everyone.

"Come on, little bitch..." Jimin started, reaching over to kiss you on the lips even though you refused to do so. You really no longer had a vote or a word of objection in his plans. "Open your eyes darling, you don't want a stray bullet to land in your mother's skull, do you?" He threatened making you obey even more scared than before.

"P-please don't hurt my mother!" You sob, clasping your tied hands in supplication.

"Oh, we won't.... yet." He whispered kissing your lips one last time before imposing himself on your kneeling body. Her cock came out of her pants, stroked a few times before guiding it to your lips. Your stomach contracted, and you pulled your face away as far as you could before Hoseok held you by the hair tightly pulling you close again. "Take it, baby. Everything will be fine if you just obey."

"I hate them, they disgust me" You whisper before Jin forced you to open your mouth making you take it, you fight for a few seconds but her hips are already moving making you choke and gasp. His moans are so loud they make you squirm but his hands hold your head close to him.

"I told you you'll take a breath, but you're a dumb whore." His breath is hitting your neck directly, your skin crawling trying to distract you from anything other than Jimin's cock in your throat causing you to gag and vomit. "I bet you're wondering why, what did you do, and nothing really. Or if Yoongi!"

You do not look at your boyfriend before, you only focus on Jin who smiles, caressing your body with his hands, almost exceeding your limits. However, what did it matter if he did it, there was nothing you could do for yourself.

"You were only here, I think we all loved you from the first moment we saw you. We spent many nights wondering what was special about you, many of us had dated women before but you... You were so different, you had something that attracted us and it made us go crazy. " His hands squeezed your breasts causing you to gasp on Jimin's cock who moaned with pleasure, continuing his steady and hard rhythm. "Taehyung got involved in the matter. "

Jimin smirked when your eyes went up to him, your eyes showing how angry and helpless you felt. And it was exquisite.

"I bet you didn't know about your beloved boyfriend's background,locked up in a rehab center for alcoholics for two years. Three years taking therapy for his depression after the tragic death of his parents, quite strong actually." His words had such a strong past but from his mouth they came out as if it were not so important. Something common for him. "I'm surprised he loved you so much and didn't tell you."

You cried unable to turn your face to look at him, deep down you wanted to put Yoongi aside and not hate him for this. But it seemed almost impossible when he was there, doing nothing, so calm that it was unreal that he had ever looked at you directly and declared his love to you over and over again. For months.

"He really was fine for a while until we decided to make him fall again, one drink after another... First trust him, then question their relationship and finally make them argue." A laugh left his lips, it was almost uncomfortable that he was the only one doing it. Everyone else was so quiet just watching. "But I can't give myself all the credit, let me introduce ourselves well, my dear."

Jimin walked away from you letting you breathe again, you had almost forgotten that he had been doing that act against you. Your tied hands help you hold off the ground by not being able to breathe properly, you feel so weak that you are about to pass out but you refuse to look weak in front of them.

"Kim Seokjin, son of the best chefs in the country and heir owner of thousands of five-star restaurants, inside and outside the country." His body crouched down, making an extremely long bow. Namjoon stood next to him, with the same smile from the day he met you. "Kim Namjoon, the only and adored son of the best lawyers and mayoral candidates, future presidents if occasion permits." There was a strange tone behind his voice, with a knowing wink. "I thought you can guess what Hoseok's parents do, but I'll tell you just in case. Great psychiatrists recognized for their countless achievements outside and within the country, having a tradition from generation to generation, capable of manipulating even the cleverest mind like yours."

Hosoek smiled at you, but this time his smile showed malice and pride. All that time you were surrounded by people who wielded a certain power and influence, oblivious to the fact that they could ever use it against you.

"Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung... Maybe you heard about their surnames on the news two years ago? Families specialized in medicine, their knowledge dazzles science and biology. Before allies and now both surnames are enemies competing for the market, but who would say that their children would meet secretly and use their same knowledge to retain a precise treasure." His hand stroked your hair causing you to recoil angrily, with a grimace of disgust and resignation. "Well... Finally Jungkook, son of the best technology creators in the country. Capable of creating anything, millionaires obviously, like everyone. Faithful lovers and devoted to he son, giving him everything he wants. " He stopped for a moment and then brought his hand to your ear taking out one of your earrings, you looked at him confused before he opened it showing a tiny device that lit up. "Even creating a more than wonderful device, a tracker of the smallest size."

You opened your mouth completely petrified, looking at each and every one of them. Most of them had a firm and conceited posture, but your eyes only looked at him.

"Were you in on this?" You ask by moving your body slightly, Yoongi only remains silent, avoiding looking at you at all costs, even if it is out of mercy you demand a simple word. "Speak! Tell me! Tell me!" You scream completely out of control, letting out all your frustration and anger with him, just him. It's all his fault. "Tell me now! To finally be able to completely hate them all... Please tell me, I just want to stop inventing and fooling my head trying to justify why you are standing there doing nothing for me" You sob almost exhausted, " Without helping me, when before you said you love me."

His eyes meet yours a few seconds before Jungkook chimed in, completely certain that you were trying to play your manipulation cards to get rid of them. Funny, they had done the same to catch you, their hyung could sometimes be so... credulous. That it was ironic that she was older than him.

"Good enough talk for today." He demanded, causing you to hide your head again in fear. You were so scared, even with the pain in your cheek and jaw from being forced by Jimin, you would never give up on them.

Your mouth felt dry, you couldn't remember the last time you drank water alone. As if they could read your thoughts, Taehyung appeared with a tray with a glass of water and a purple pill.

"Take that away from me." You scream when he tries to put the pill in your mouth, backing up as far as your bound legs will allow.

He sighs bored, as if he doesn't have the patience to deal with it, "If you want water you'll have to do this."

"What is it?" You ask almost breathless from the lack of water in your body, he smiles before bringing the pill to his face to look at it rolling it on his finger.

"Hm... Vitamins." Respond after hesitating. "Everything you need in one compact little pill. It was an invention by Jimin and me, we were hoping you would be the first to try it."

A few seconds ago you remember hearing about the reputations of both families, they were specialists who probably passed that knowledge on to their children. If they knew what they were doing with them, they would be shocked. Your reasoning tells you no, to throw it away and try to run away but your head and body can't take it anymore, they demand water and a rest.

"I-it's okay." You accept, removing the pill and the glass of water from the tray angrily. You put the pill in first, then the water so hard your mouth hurts from the force.

You return the glass silently, eyeing him suspiciously before sitting back down and walking a few inches away. You wait for everyone to do something, but they stay so still as dolls that it scares you, everything about them and their attitudes was creepy.

I wish you had noticed earlier.

And now you feel it, it was not pain, nor anxiety. I was just calm, the noises seem to decrease and your vision does not blur but you feel so relaxed that you do not seem to be affected by any drugs. You could feel it all, but you didn't care.

It was relaxing but you weren't far this time, you remember the previous scenes. When you ate the food they gave you, it was similar but as if it had been modified so that you can remain docile and obedient, but at the same time you know what they are doing.

Your body falls on the bed, you don't even try to get up. Your brain isn't thinking about that, it just gets distracted by the decorations around it, but it clearly perceives one of them nearby. Namjoon is behind your body lying face down, half is on the bed and your legs are still kneeling on the floor. You feel his kisses so desperate on your neck, his hands touching your breasts and stomach trying to lower himself further, anxious not to wait to fuck you as he always wanted and should have been.

You do not fight when his legs open yours with force and speed, you just stand still, thinking with your head glued to the soft sheets of the bed, deep down you can slightly feel your desire to push him and push him away furiously, you want to do it but not you do. You feel so confused that you sob into the sheets in released frustration.

"I thought I heard from you, that her wouldn't refuse anything with his stupid pill." Jin whispers, disgusted seeing you struggle with yourself in search of reason.

"I don't see her deny it." Jimin retorts, crossing his arms with a small victorious smile.

Yoongi stands aside, not wanting to accept this but likewise, like you, does nothing to avoid it while Namjoon sinks deep inside you causing you to writhe overwhelmed and let out a groan of pain, your mouth opens to complain and probably ask him to stop, but he instantly closes again only releasing more gasps and squeals.

They spend minutes with all eyes on you, taking the cock of her friend who abuses your sore pussy from overstimulation, this time you are crying and begging for mercy to stop. Even in your unconsciousness you continue to feel all the pain and also the pleasure that is now almost non-existent.

"S-stop!" You cry between gasps of exhaustion, your hands had been released by Jungkook seconds ago so that you can hold on properly. However, you only use them to try to ward off Namjoon who is holding you against the bed by slamming his body against yours with obscene noises. The bed squirms like you, colliding with the wall in sync.

"A little more baby... Just a little more... And I'll fill you with my cum, so fucking tight. You like that, hm?" Her breath very close to your cheek makes you react, you squeeze your eyes almost suffering from your next inevitable orgasm. You scream making everyone watch you fascinated by how your face contracts with pleasure and pain, you try to walk away when the moment of ecstasy recedes, but he continues to fuck you bareback hard, selfishly chasing the release of him against you.

You spent hours repeating the same routine, sometimes sometimes even more hours than you can remember or count.. Your body was completely covered with bruises and marks not only made by them manually, you had discovered in the worst way that Hoseok had a great fetish to make small cuts to any animal or person that had skin and that glistening blood came out of those wounds, red as hell and as sweet as ambrosia.

A delicacy, truly a true delicacy blessed by God.

Jin could not stop laughing at your overwhelmed face, sometimes he would sit next to you while your body was fucked uncontrollably, watching your face move on the sheets with the constant and hard movements of his friends.

"Do you enjoy it, you dirty bitch?" You knew he was making fun of it, not only because it denigrated your dignity, but also because you couldn't answer correctly and the only thing that moved was your head up and down from the thrusts. As if you were affirming his disgusting words. "You like it right?" And again. "I bet you will enjoy it every day from now on, do you want to marry us, little bitch? Be ours forever, that we fuck you every damn day like that, that we also fill you up that you would get pregnant, you would have our children , and you would gladly. Do you accept _______?"

You did not want to know where he managed to get your last name, nor your full name and less because he thought that after the effect of whatever they had given you, you would really accept being his damned wife.

But he just stands there, watching Jungkook abuse his new power against you and taunt him.

I just wanted to wait for everyone to leave, so I could hug you, heal you, and ask for forgiveness.

He couldn't save you if he was chained to the basement like they threatened to do. He was afraid of his own friends, who looked at him madly when hours before he thought of withdrawing from the plan, Hoseok as charismatic as he always claimed to be able to cut his neck so easily if I took you away from them.

Now, they were doomeds.

The painting lost its color once more.

[spaceecoffe]

The Owl House x Slavic Mythology, Part 2 (this one will be longer)

Okay, so in this post I will tell you about few things. First of all you need to know something: slavic mythology is hard to uncover. It is not so easy to find true informations about this like about Greek, Roman or Norse mythology. A lot of Slavic beliefs were twisted by christian propaganda (like in last post I told you about Domovoy bringing good luck to you house -> with a time christians started to tell a story about mean house demon Domovoy and that all the good things he did were actually done by Angels, ugh). It is also twisted by patriarchy that with time didn't want people to believe in some powerful female demons or goddesses.

Slavic mythology for sure was kinda like Boiling Isles: most of demons and nature wants to kill you in some strange ways, but there were also some good demons, good characters and good gods/goddesses. And when you search for some informations you need to remember this. I'm writing it here because one of characters in this post suffers from her story being twisted by christians and men. And you can also see influence of patriarchy in first part.

But lets start the main stuff:

1. Witches and Wizards

Oh, yes, first thing you can think of is a second episode of first season "Witches before Wizards" AND I LOVE IT. Why? Because it destroys traditional look on the witches and wizards, of course! But from the beginning.

In slavic beliefs witches were women who signed a pact with the devil and gained from it magic powers. They used it to turn other people lives into hell by hexes and all that stuff. It was hard to recognise them, but people say that normally woman drinks a glass of vodka (or apple blood!) on three times while witches do it in one sip! Also, if you look deep in their eyes you will see head of a goat. But it could be any women in yours surrounding: single one, old one, married, young... You couldn't trust any woman!

And that is the misogynistic view on witches. The truth is that witches were a wise women who helped other. They often were herbalists and healers in their villages. But people didn't understand how they did their "elixirs", they only knew they worked, so the ones that were jealous about their knowledge create this story about "terrible and scary witches".

At the same time there were Wizards. They were the ones that people looked up to. And it's all because Wizards used their magic for a science and not hexing people! Like, you know... The only thing women can do is to be mean to other people and only think about how to make others lives worse, while man think about more important stuff. But, fortunately, wizards had also some bad traits, like being too ambitious.

So when Luz goes to Boiling Isles it appears that it is full of witches. Not only women witches, but also men. And this is kind of amazing because we finally abandon this archetype of only women being witches. At the same time (in second episode) we can hear King saying:

"Wizards are only old people with glitter in their pockets"

Oh, how I love this! Why? Because there always been a discourse in the topic of magic. When magic was used from science (by wizards or by alchemists) it was good, but when it was coming from nature (used by witches or folks) it was satanic and scary. But here? Here everything is opposite. We know now, thanks to Lilith, that magic in Boiling Isles is highly bonded to the nature and it is used from it. That's why everyone there is called witch, regardless of gender.

Why it is so important for me that witches are cool on Boiling Isles and wizards are only having glitter in their pockets? It's because at the same time that witches were burned on piles in Poland (1600s), you could go on Cracovian Academy (now Jagiellonian University) and get education in being Wizard or Alchemist.

So yeah, this episode just destroyed the archetype of good and wise wizards against bad and wild witches which should happen more often. But until Tolkien's books will still be "best fantasy" I doubt we will se more of breaking this stupid rule (and also sexism in fantasy).

Also, fun fact, in this episode we see Radegast in clothes with stars:

and also we hear that he was "looking at the stars" when Luz came. I know that wizards are usually depicted with some star-theme, but he really reminds me of the legend of Pan Twardowski, the most powerful wizard in Polish (some says he was a German actually) history. He signed the pact with the Devil to gain his power but run away from him to the other side of the moon, were some says, he still lives. He also probably was a real person (Jan Twardowski) who worked on Zygmunt August's court as magician and astrologist, sometime between 1530 - 1570, while as I said, witches were burned on piles.

But let's move to the second thing!

2. Eda, The Baba Yaga

Oh, yes! You've seen this coming. And also it was greatly showed in this amazing post, which you have to read! But I will put in my tuppence here.

First of all, who was Baba Yaga? You heard about her for sure, but probably all of this were lies. Surly, she was the most powerful known witch. She could do almost anything with her magic and she also could brew any potion. As you probably know she lived in the house on chicken legs deep in the forest.

As for her look she was small, old with a big nose and a lot of wrinkles:

She doesn't look nice, does she? Isn't that strange that the most powerful witch in our beliefs has to be so "ugly" (ugh, I hate this word but I have to use it here I think)? The truth is that probably she never looked like this. Historians thinks that at the beginning she was one of the most important goddesses in Slavic Mythology. She was in control of life and death, she was the personification of nature and its power. Some people also believe that she was the one responsible for children initiation to adult life. One of the historians, Zygmunt Krzak, said:

"This is about the reviled figure of the ancient goddess, a characterisation created by religious and secular male elites fighting against matriarchal religion."

So now we can see how Eda works as alternative Baba Yaga from Boiling Isles.

First of all, she IS the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. She lives deep in the forest and she is great at brewing potions. Everyone is scared of her but at the same time, if someone is in trouble, she will totally help. Also, in episode one of season two we can see how she actually care about animals (and probably all nature).

But, most importantly, she is against Emperor's rules. As I said in subsection 1, being a witch is all about taking your power from nature. And actually what Emperor is doing is fighting with this, just like christianity when it started to appear on slavic lands. Emperor forbids to use wild magic, he tries to cut witches away from nature. He makes them join covens that can control their magic so they are becoming more and more distant from the natural magic. And Eda is this one person on whole Boiling Isles that is against it and that's why Emperor's Coven tries to change her image so people would think of her as a scary and wild witch which should meet her punishment for being that close to nature.

Another thing that reminds me of Baba Yaga is, of course, how she took care of Luz and helped her to became the witch. This is how initiation of children looks like. Yes, Eda did this in her own way but if not for her, Luz would never went do Hexside and problady wouldn't ever found out about glyphs. So yes, Eda was that one witch who helped Luz, the child (or "her kid") to become real witch, and that is probably what real Baba Yaga was doing.

Also...

Yes, I don't have to comment that, you know what I'm showing to you. But I just want to remind you that Kikimores hate chicken so it naturally goes that Kikimora is on the opposite side to Eda, The Baba Yaga.

The last thing I want to add is that Belos clearly do the same thing to witches on Boiling Isles that christians did to slavic folks (and yes, a lot more cultures in the world but here I'm focusing on Slavs). That is why I am almost sure that he is a human, probably Philippe, because this is just what people of middle and west Europe always did to different cultures -> "Veni, Vidi, Vici" as Julius Cesar said.

Part 1

[oof-big-oof]

ACOTAR and Setups Part II: Tamlin and Rhysand

SPOILERS: ACOTAR series (and Macbeth too ig)

Part 1: Feyre

In "Macbeth", Macbeth and Banquo are narrative foils to each other. While Banquo is loyal to the king and uses language of growth and imagery of nature when he speaks, the traitor Macbeth's words are full of references to destruction, fire, and unholy happenings. Foils are not just good ways to explore character traits, but also excellent for setting up conflicts and exploring the thematic concerns of the world.

I think it's safe to say Tamlin and Rhysand are foils. They have opposing imagery (spring, flowers and sun for Tamlin, winter, snow and night for Rhysand) and always stand in opposition to each other when it comes to Feyre's narrative, switching in and out of being the "bad guy" and the "good guy". But the way this is handled is .... eh.

I'm going to look at shifts in Feyre, Tamlin and Rhys that work of this foil - and try to look for when and how they were set up.

1. Feyre's shift - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

In the first book, Tamlin is a source of protection and love for Feyre. But by the second book, Feyre is not only struggling with her PTSD but has begun to realise that life at the Spring Court as a dolled up accessory might not be for her. By the end of the book, she has found her place in the Night Court - by Rhysand's side. And honestly? Go girl! Go live up to your potential!

The problem arises with how this is done - that is, Sarah J Mass never does the brunt work of showing us why Feyre cares. It is plausible she is motivated by a desire to protect the human lands, but we never actually see that. There isn't a moment where she realises she needs to work for a greater good, or a moment she realises that she needs to protect those more vulnerable than her - instead, the narrative has her tolerating abuse until she finally has had enough.

Which is great. I have got to admit that I really like the explicit rejection of a happily ever after storyline for Feyre because it took away her agency. But we get this radical shift in character motivation from wanting to be protected and comfortable with those she loves to desiring agency and understanding of herself in two lines:

"The girl who had needed to be protected and who had craved stability and comfort... she had died Under the Mountain"

and

"I didn't know how to go back to those things. To being docile"

hhhhhh. I mean - if you have to say it that explicitly, you're already doing something wrong. But also, why? We never see Feyre struggling with herself in her new body, and wondering why she does not want the same things as she did when she was a human, never see an impetus point for when her desires shifted.

But honestly? I don't mind Feyre's arc. I think it's a bit confused and lacks clarity or intent, and as a result, it is harder to root for her because you don't quite know what she wants, but I think it's still quite good. Where I really have problems are with Tamlin ad Rhys.

2. Tamlin - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

I am not a fan of Tamlin's arc. You could argue that it is part of the thematic message of the series: that things are not as they seem. Tamlin is the wolf to the savour to the abuser, Rhysand is the "most beautiful man " Feyre had ever seen to Amarantha's monster to Feyre's eventual mate. But - the constant twists are unnecessary, more importantly, they and have little to no foreshadowing and just seem like retcons- making it seem as if they are there to keep the audience guessing rather than genuine plot progressions. This becomes even more obvious when the series abandons its core theme of "appearance vs reality" altogether, and as a result loses a lot of its cohesion: a direct consequence of having a bad setup.

His reason for doing the abusive things he does is conveyed to us in two lines, in the same monologue that Feyre's motivation is:

"Tamlin had gotten his powers back, had become whole again - become that protector and provider he wished to be"

Sure. He was much more powerful than Feyre when they first met, so I am having a hard time buying it is the return of the powers that his making him act this way. We know that his actions come from a genuine desire to protect Feyre - this is the guy that was willing to sacrifice his life multiple times and the future of his entire court to keep her safe. The only justification we have left then for the way he acts is that his PTSD, borne out of the trauma and torture he underwent and watched Feyre undergo changed him in some way.

This is why the endless villainizing of Tamlin makes me really uncomfortable. While it is true that the abused can become the abuser, and figuring out how to help them while protecting yourself is something that absolutely needs to be discussed and explored - the way it is done with Tamlin is horrendous because he is never given a chance to heal. Instead, he is thrown from plot point to plot point, an eternal punching bag for the Inner Circle and others to seem morally superior in front of.

And his treatment of Feyre is just weird. If he's so concerned about her safety - why does he not wake up when she has nightmares? Is he instead trying to pretend like everything is okay - if so why does he give Feyre an escort of guards? If his core motivation is protecting Feyre at all costs - why does he lash out at her?? And the text really tries to tell us how to feel about him in this regard, but it doesn't do it very well. For example, take the scene where Tamlin says "There is no such thing as a High Lady". Feyre a second before expressed her desire not to take on any responsibility, and Tamlin responded with this - and the text really makes us want to hate him for it, but all you can see is a person who is perhaps not the best at reading subtext trying his best.

In conclusion - Tamlin's shift to the villain of the narrative is hamhanded and underexplained, making it hard to genuinely hate him, and further confusing the narrative.

3. Rhys the foil gets the girl - TW: discussions of abuse, sexual assault mental health issues

Rhysand in the first book is interesting - he clearly has a heart and a soft spot for Feyre but is also a schemer with dubious motives that drugs and sexually harasses Feyre. There are places in the set up where we understand he cares - but never where we can begin to see he might be a genuine paragon of virtue.

And I will address this more in my post on ACOMAF, but the point I am trying to make here is: we are told through the constantly opposing imagery that Rhys and Tamlin are wolds apart - but never actually given examples of how. Rhys is said to be different from Tamlin because he respects Feyre's choice - but he drugs her in a bunch of weird scenes (that serve no clear narrative purpose by the way - like what was he trying to achieve? why he couldn't he just let Feyre in on that part of the plan?) and withholds information from her about life-threatening situations. Rhys is said to pull less rank - but we multiple times see others defer to him, especially in later books, and never actually see rank being enforced in Tamlin's court with his treatment of Lucien (many times described as his partner, and openly questioning him) and later Ianthe. Rhys is said to have less archaic laws in opposition to Tamlin's Tithe - but he abandons the Court of Nightmares to the monsters who rule it, and never takes serious actions against the Illyrian people who clip of women's wings, and a lot of Tamlin's idea of racial superiority and general superiority just come completely out of left field in the middle of ACOMAF.

Both of them are problematic - it's just that the text tells us to root for one, without actually showing us how one is better, or setting up any clear ideological difference between them. And that cheapens Feyre's character shift and lessen the efficacy of the foil - turning it into Feyre hopping from one lover to the other with little to no character consistency and no nuanced exploration of the theme of the series or trauma.

[lewyn-martell]

I'm the Ken & Shiv anon from last time...

I'm still in awe at the way E3 played out??

I was initially shocked that they were willing to do that to each other, but then Shiv did tell Tom that taking the fall for Logan was a good idea; and when Tom told her he was probably going to jail, she reacted nothing like she did at the end of season 2.

She likes her executive position at Waystar Royco, and judging from the almost friendly banter she had with Nate, she likes it better than politics.

And Ken likes being in the spotlight (Ewan's judgement of him was very accurate), and he genuinely sees the late-night-show styled roasts as playful jokes (since they don't hit him where it hurts and instead treat him as a generic "rich white man who wants to kill his dad") to the point that people around him are uncomfortable to watch the "roasts".

I was more surprised that Ken casted the first stone, mostly because I sort of knew Shiv had it in her to gut her brother. I also knew Ken is a very vindictive person, down to what he told Rava about the divorce lawyerings & bringing the team to her house in S3E1 / what he did to those girls after Angela rejected his VC offer & told him off / what he did to Logan after Logan tried to scapegoat him, but I didn't think what Shiv did warranted something like this: she rejected his offer, yes, but so did everyone else.

Somehow Ken perceived it as such an insult that he was willing to do this, and their conversation at the beginning??? "I think I'm right--I am right" followed by his half-assed apology, and then responds to Shiv's proposal for a truce with "Look at this. It's you now," and ends the convo with "I'm sorry for you, Siobhan"... Like, just because she refuses to kill Logan with him??

With Ken IGNORING HIS LAWYER'S ADVICE to storm in WR to play a certain Nirvana song to sabotage Shiv's speech and the late-night show thing, I've 2 observations:

1) I'm starting to see who he interrupts & treats as disposable and who he doesn't, the latter being family / useful friends / WR related people / women he's infatuated with at the moment.

2) Ken seems to like new-age tech much more than traditional media, especially the ones with a liberal view and are therefore antagonistic toward him & his family. He apparently saw Shiv as a through-and-through liberal and thought that she's somehow abandoned her ideals by defending Logan??

This line of thought clears up a few things: 1) he agreed with what Shiv said in Argestes and liked the idea enough to actually execute it, thus the "I'm the real you", 2) he sees Shiv as someone willingly taking Logan's side and someone who KNOWS the scale of the crimes and Logan's culpability (again, projecting much?), 3) he's feeling vengeful because he thinks that she's a hypocrite & she has no reason to be on Logan's side when she could be on his side.

And oh boy, Shiv just had to spell it out for him just EXACTLY why she didn't want to be on his side in her open letter. I don't know why Ken thought it was a good idea to do this to her when Shiv obliterated him in S1E2 when he asked her "what do you have against me" when she wouldn't back him for the CEO position.

Now the whole world knows why, and any potential liberal goodwill toward him is tainted by Shiv's words.

In a way, Shiv is Ken's foil and Ken loves her for who she is (and who he couldn't be) and Shiv hates him for who he is (and who she is not).

(also, I actually have multiple comparisons to draw between Rava & Shiv and how Ken treats them, but I think that's just me going off the deep end)

Hello hello great to see you again. As someone who is also in complete AWE of how the episode played out, I'm more than happy to try and get my thoughts in order to touch base with you.

I want to start by saying how much I adored the war-like aspects of the episode, with high tension surrounding the "battles", invasion of territory, tactical moves and strategy in general, I mean... Everything. Shiv is glowing with the opportunity (like you said, I also agree she enjoys it more than politics. This has always been framed by Logan as the the fight of their lives, after all), Kendall is still high in his histrionic meretricious manic phase and has Shiv as the central enemy (after dad, who is looming over them all), so not only I was ready for it, I was expecting it to hurt even more. We sure as hell know Kendall is vindictive and we also know Shiv can go low low to match it (god, I love them).

And yeah, about what you said that "it's not like what Shiv did warranted for it" like I know right?? But none of these kids' reactions are proportionally right and what we would expect more well adjusted human beings to act like. Shiv only said no, but it hurt him so much he not only said what he said that night, but he also channelled his other hurt feelings about his image that had nothing to do with her into fucking up his lawyer's whole strategy to go bomb his little sis' big day. (Yes, I definitely agree that the rich white man with daddy issues doesn't hit where it hurts the most, but I also think it still bothers him. He wants to be the hero of the people and he's trying to project the image of "any press is good press because they're talking about me" for his friends, but I couldn't help but see that it got to him, with how he was reacting in that party scene when he turned on the tv. I mean, he immediately thought he should go on the show and that sounded an awful lot like he wanted to defend himself. He even felt the need, maybe out of nervousness, to feel the "temperature" of the writer's circle right before it to see if they would lay it hard on him and tried to protect himself by going all "hurt me!!" to make people think he's not getting affected.)

Oh, I absolutely adored (and was tortured by) the fact that these kids just can't get in the same wavelenght (i.e. Shiv proposing truce and trying to reach common ground and Kendall answering with conflict). Shiv is at a supposed dawn of her time and both doesn't want to give it up and can't have the perspective Kendall has about her proposal (since he was in this position before) and Ken just doesn't give it to her because being real is a sin in this family. I think this disconnect and pattern of awful communication is a big part of Kendall rejecting all possibility of collaborating with Shiv on some level (like, any sane person who knew their sister was almost caving would try and leave the page open to try again. Armed with the right words and right time she could be his and he definitely needs it. But not Kendall, though. These people are egocentric and delusional), but also, yknow, the ever present vibe of permanent conflict between these kids and that he felt betrayed by her, specifically, saying no to this.

And it does intrigue me, how Kendall was so sure he would be able to get her on his side. What I imagine, and these are only half-formed thoughts, is that the liberalism of it (yknow, what you said about him possibly thinking she is a hypocrite betraying her so-called values that he "shares") for him and between them is only the surface of the tip of the iceberg. Because let's be honest how much does Kendall (and Shiv for that matter) care about it? Everything on the show points to "not much" being the answer, but there is a gray area of him (them) caring at least a little bit but not knowing how to care for it and, more importantly, doing it for the wrong reasons. Logan's conservatism is bad for business, Kendall is doing his sacred plan and he wants his ascension to be clean and up to the times (although it is true that he might think he genuinely cares to lie to himself about his true reasons for doing his move and as a crutch to help him keep saying he is doing the right thing). I can only see the view of this "betrayal" he felt that we're hypothesizing be about soiling their potential "climb towards the new age" and how, even though he saw some of the same drive in her, she is still under dad.

And it's actually great of you to mention the dinosaur cull line in Argestes because I immediately thought "where is my parallel gifset of Shiv saying that and Kendall saying back in season 1 about 'the dinosaur doing one last roar before the meteor wipes him out' in reference to Logan"?? He might have been dad's little bitch at that point, but I believe this moment, among various others, made him see his old self in her and thus we get to this ongoing shared identity struggle and "I'm the real you" "Sure, and I'm the real you" "Do you even care or it's all just ego?" "It"s you this time" and his certainty he could persuade her. And the pettiness and rancour comes out of her betraying the ideal that past Kendall would have, in his head, jumped to get a hold of (even though he completely ignores it took him a lifetime of unfulfilled number one boy feelings, years being jerked around the world with no reward, and the right self-excuse of being concerned about Logan's health before he decided to rebel).

I'm with you that it was naïve of him to not expect her to come against him full force after what he did. Kendall always thinks he can take far more than he can actually swallow or just doesn't think things through (another thing in common with Shiv hsbahahsbsha) and then the consequences of his actions come falling down on him. It remains to be seen how effective Shiv's letter will be with how the episode ended, but I think it's safe to say it's somewhat of a major hit for him, even though not quite as much as the FBI knocking on Waystar's door (lmao that was so funny).

Let me finish this by saying that while I'm completely on board with them destroying each other and doing some angry self-recognition through the other and continuing their clown on clown violence and mind games.... I keep wondering ever since I saw that trailer of Roman saying "I hear you tried to killed dad again, fatty. Do you have a fetish for nearly killing dad yadda yadda" who he is talking to. The editing of course says that it's Kendall and honestly it might very well be and it's what I'm thinking it will be. But there is a tiny tiny part of me that thinks it could be Shiv, especially when I think "who, between them, makes more sense for Roman to call fatty??". But this is more wishful thinking than an actual theory I'm behind (especially because it's not like Roman's insults have actual meaning). While it would be incredible to see a team up, what we are getting already makes me plenty happy.

[yournameyn]

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1

Chapter 2

And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.

Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.

They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.

He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.

Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.

Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.

This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.

Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.

Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”

“What?!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”

She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”

“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”

“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”

“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”

Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”

Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.

“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.

Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.

Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.

Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.

Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.

On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.

Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”

“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.

“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.

Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.

He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”

She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”

Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”

She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”

Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”

Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.

He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”

She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -

“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”

Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.

After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”

Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.

He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”

This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.

Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.

When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.

Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”

When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.

Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”

Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.

Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…

Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.

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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.

a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.

All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.

It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.

"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.

Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.

We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.

"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.

"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.

And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.

"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.

"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.

"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.

"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.

"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.

"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.

"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.

"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.

"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...

One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.

Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.

"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.

I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.

"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.

Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.

"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.

"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.

"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.

"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.

Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.

That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.

Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.

"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"

"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.

"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."

"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."

"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."

I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"

Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.

"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.

I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.

"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."

"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.

"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.

I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.

"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."

Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.

"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.

"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...

"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.

I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."

"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.

"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.

"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.

"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?

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