#anyway society is very cruel to women and i need to do something about it. genuinely whereeee do i even begin

[johndonneswife]

not a sad ‘woe is me’ post so don’t send me weird messages but: the thing abt cycling through every ED possible and being bulimic for like 10 yrs & making yourself vomit up to 10x times per day on ur worst days is that your teeth and gums will eventually give out on you (bc it doesn’t make a difference if you’ve been good & it doesn’t matter how well you’ve taken care of your teeth for the last x years) and u will be 30 years old crying to your very sweet and kind dentist when she tells you about the 1 million things that are wrong with ur teeth

[heyiwrotesomethings]

She’s The Housekeeper Prt8: Penguin Park

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/ Her Reader

A/N: Prt7 Prt9 Here is the big chapter! I’m planning to do at least one more chapter to bring in Bond but after that I think I’ll be done with this story. I hope you all like this chapter! Thank you for reading! Word Count: 4,515

Another night filled with assignments.

Loid could hardly make it into the apartment building, he was that tired. For as much as HQ wanted him to continue this perfect family charade, they were not making it very easy for him to do so.

As he shuffled into the apartment complex, his ears perked up when he heard voices further down the hall. It was the neighbors again, and what they were saying stopped him cold in his tracks.

“That man from across the hall is working late again I see.” One snidely remarked, earning a round of acknowledging huffs from the other women.

“That poor little girl must feel so neglected. I rarely see the three of them together.”

“Yes, and don’t even get me started on the live-in housekeeper!”

All the women voiced exasperated sounds of agreement before diving in on the topic anyway. Loid stuck close to the wall and continued to listen in.

“So he’s definitely having an affair with her, right?”

Loid nearly choked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. He seems the type. With how often he’s out god-knows-where, he’s probably got a handful of mistresses to hop between.

Hardly. Loid’s eye twitched and he rubbed at his face while still listening to the assassination of his character, and then (Y/n)’s as well.

“She is so antisocial!” One piped up, “She seems like a nice young woman on the surface, but whenever I offer to introduce her to the strapping young men in my family, she turns up her nose. Seems she only has an eye for married men who can fill her bank account.”

Loid covered his mouth in surprise. These women were ruthless in their gossip. If (Y/n) had heard any of this, he could only imagine how furious she would be, not to mention how Yor would feel as well. Even he was beyond offended on her behalf, but he couldn’t exactly cut in and tell them off, that would probably do more harm than good.

“Maybe he lost his job and he’s too embarrassed to go home?” Another speculated, “Can’t bear to face his heartbroken wife and money grubbing mistress without a paycheck.”

Loid’s hands fell to his sides in fists. He had been careless it seemed. He had been so busy with his other missions, that he had neglected his role here, and now rumors were flying like crazy. He’d have to do something about that, and soon. If it blew into some bigger conspiracy that got to the school, he hated to think how that would affect Anya.

Of course Anya knew that their family was… unconventional, she seemed to know that she probably shouldn’t call (Y/n) mama in public, even if she forgot at times. Loid could only imagine how the high society parents would object and cause a scene and how cruel their children could be as well once they heard... Loid couldn’t let Anya be exposed to such bigoted attitudes.

He slunk back from the hall and ran swiftly up the stairs to their apartment door, startling the trio coloring in the living room with his hasty entrance.

“We’re going out next weekend!” He declared, then directed his attention to Anya, “Where do you want to go?”

“Uh, Loid? You should sit down. You look ill.” (Y/n) suggested.

“Yes, you should get some rest.” Yor agreed.

“Ah, is that a penguin?” Loid asked, ignoring the two women to observe Anya’s drawing, “Let’s go to the aquarium then!”

(Y/n) and Yor shared a puzzled look, before Yor addressed Loid again.

“Not that I wouldn’t enjoy an outing, but what is this about?”

“We need to do everything we can to keep looking like a normal, happy family to keep up the appearances of our pretend marriage. An outing is just what we need.”

“Anya’s excited!”

“Then it’s settled.” Loid nodded with a smile.

The evening was mostly normal from there, until Anya was put to bed. Loid was honestly a bit fearful about explaining to Yor and (Y/n) what he had heard (minimal details of course), but even more so he was afraid of what he needed to ask of (Y/n) during that outing.

“Are you serious?” (Y/n) spoke tightly, her tone unusually high, “They really think you and I—?!”

“That is what I heard.” Loid affirmed, interlacing his fingers and rubbing his thumbs together.

“An affair! I can’t believe it!” She quietly screamed while Yor blinked owlishly at her side, still processing the accusation.

“They couldn’t be more wrong! …Well, actually, they are kind of right… but they’ve put together the wrong people!” (Y/n) ranted as she paced the room. She crossed her arms and turned on her heel to stalk towards Loid.

“So this is what the outing is for, right? For you three to go out and look like the perfect family to make them think we aren’t being… intimate?” (Y/n) shuddered at the word in that context.

“Yes, but… (Y/n), I was hoping you would come too.”

“That would look bad one hundred percent, Loid.” (Y/n) shook her head. “Or if you think you’ll ease suspicion by having me dressed up in that stupid uniform while I haul your souvenirs behind you all day, you can go—“

“No, no, of course that’s not what I’m suggesting, but what I am asking you to do won’t be easy nevertheless.”

“What is it?” Yor tentatively asked.

Loid sighed, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Remember my friend, Franky?”

“Yeah, what about him?” (Y/n) asked warily.

“Could you please pretend to be on a date with him when we go to the aquarium?”

Yor’s mouth fell open in surprise, nearly breaking her neck with how fast she turned to look at (Y/n) and Loid braced himself for yelling, but (Y/n) was deathly quiet, expressionless. Somehow that was worse.

(Y/n) took in a few deep breaths through her nose, releasing one long, final breath before looking back to Loid with irritated and tired eyes.

“He knows it’s just pretend, right?”

“Of course.”

“And how long do we have to keep it up?”

“It will be most important to time an introduction with some of the neighbors in the hallway before we leave, after that, you two can treat it like any casual outing once we are there. We may have to plan similar outings in the future though…”

Yor’s head whipped back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. (Y/n) wasn’t really agreeing to having a fake boyfriend, was she? Rationally, Yor knew that if Loid was suggesting it, it was probably necessary, and it wasn’t like the relationship would be any more real than her fake marriage, but the idea of her partner going on a date with someone else made her feel the need to snap some bones to fight off the uncomfortable burning in her chest.

“I swear this just keeps getting more and more convoluted.” (Y/n) groaned, sitting down hard on the couch beside Yor who watched her intently, “I trust that you wouldn’t be bringing this up if you had any other options, so I’ll do it, but I swear Loid, if this lie keeps evolving like this I can’t imagine we will be able to keep up with it for very long.”

“I know.” Loid nodded solemnly.

“Um,” Yor cleared her throat, grasping at (Y/n)’s sleeve, “are you sure you want to do this, darling? I’m sure we could find another way.”

“As long as those old biddies see me as some untethered, marriage killing floozy, there really isn’t anything else we can do. As long as they think there is an affair going on, our family image will continue to appear tarnished.”

Yor frowned, sucking in her lower lip. (Y/n) stroked her hand comfortingly.

“It’ll be no different from the pretend marriage you and Loid have. You don’t have to look so concerned.” She promised, trying to ease Yor’s mind with a smile.

But it would be different. Yor didn’t think she could handle being in the position that (Y/n) had been in ever since this pretend marriage began. Watching on as her lover walked beside someone else, holding their hand... the burning in Yor’s chest grew hotter. (Y/n) was far stronger than her when it came to these things it would seem.

“If you’re certain.” Yor murmured.

(Y/n) squeezed Yor’s hand and brought her attention back to Loid.

“We’re going to need a story.”

“Right.”

***

“Loid, are you sick?”

“Maybe we should postpone?” Yor asked, ashamedly hopeful.

Loid shook his head as he fumbled with his sunglasses. He wasn’t sick, just severely sleep deprived from speeding through all of his missions that week to make this work. He couldn’t back out now. Especially not when Anya was so excited.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he said, staring down hard at his watch. He wiped his sleeve over the face to clean what he thought must have been a smudge, but it was still blurry. Nevermind, Franky would probably be up to meet them soon and he could already hear the neighbors gossiping in the hall so it was go time.

“Fall out, Forgers’,” he ordered, grasping the doorknob successfully on the second try and opening the door to let Anya run excitedly into the hall with Yor and (Y/n) following after her.

“Oh, Forgers’!” One of the neighbors blinked in surprise at seeing the family together, then her eyes found (Y/n) in her casual wear. She gave (Y/n) a tight smile, “And Ms. (L/n), of course.”

“Good morning,” (Y/n) waved, smile just as insincere.

“It’s rare to see you all together. What is the occasion?” One of the other neighbors asked.

“We’re going to the aquarium.” Loid shared.

“Oh, all of you?” The woman asked, side-eying (Y/n).

“Miss Anya insisted,” (Y/n) chuckled politely, “I couldn’t refuse, especially once my boyfriend caught wind of the idea. Ah, here he comes now.”

“Hello, my darling! Ah, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Everyone followed (Y/n)’s gaze to Franky as he strode up the hallway towards them with a big smile on his face.

“Oh stop it, you just saw me yesterday.” (Y/n) said with faux embarrassment.

It was true, they had seen each other yesterday, and just about every day that week to get their story straight for today. (Y/n) had dreaded it initially, but Franky was easy to get along with, a bit of a scamp, but a good guy.

“You know me,” Franky grinned cheekily, kissing the back of (Y/n)’s hand, “even a minute without you is a minute too long.” He winked.

(Y/n) smiled wryly in response before sharing her well-crafted and practiced introductions. Easily meeting every prying question with tactful responses, sometimes letting Franky take the reins as well to really send the message home that they were definitely a couple.

They had decided they had been together for a year and a half, a long distance relationship because of Franky’s job. Hence why he wasn’t around. Not to mention how unprofessional it would be for (Y/n) to have her boyfriend over while she worked. The neighbors ate up the simple reserved, responsible young woman act she peddled with a spoon. She could see their view of her slowly change before her eyes.

“Oh dear, why didn’t you say you were being courted by this sweet man before?”

Ah yes, (Y/n) didn’t forget about Mrs. Matchmaker, who apparently decided awhile ago that, ‘No thank you, I’m not looking for a relationship,’ translated to, ‘I’m having too much fun chasing after a married man to meet your stupid nephew.’.

“My (Y/n) can be so shy, it’s incredible,” Franky chuckled while (Y/n) hid half of her face behind her hand and adverted her eyes, “she gets so nervous around people sometimes that she probably didn’t even think to mention me. Don’t worry, dear. I’m not hurt.”

“Franky!” (Y/n) quietly admonished, turning away.

She heard the neighbor women chuckle knowingly and rolled her eyes hard at the wall. If being a corpse cleaner stopped paying, perhaps she could try her hand at acting.

“As entertaining as this is, we had better be on our way,” Loid said, sensing it was a good time to wrap up, “good seeing you.”

“Oh yes, have a good day then.”

“Say hello to the penguins for me, little Miss Anya.”

“Good talking with you all.”

“Oh we nailed that.” (Y/n) smiled smugly as soon as they all piled into the car. Loid and Franky in the front while she, Yor and Anya sat in the back.

“You almost even had me convinced.” Franky turned to face her with a grin. “You sure you don’t want to have a nice, romantic dinner with me?”

“Pfft, yeah I’m busy that day.”

“I didn’t even say when!”

“Mhm, as I said. Busy.” (Y/n) laughed, Franky pouted but joined in soon after.

Yor’s smile was stiff as she tried to busy herself by looking out the window. Try as she might to remind herself that their relationship was an act, it still worried her that (Y/n) and Franky seemed to get along despite the circumstances. The sooner they could go back to their normal routine, the better, but she would still try to enjoy the day and not think about feeding Franky to the crabs and other bottom feeders piece by piece for placing his lips even just against the skin of (Y/n)’s hand. She didn’t know how (Y/n) made it until Yuri crossed the line before breaking down.

Loid parked near the subway station and everyone piled out of the car. While they waited for the train to pull into the station, Loid took drink requests and Franky went with him to be an extra pair of hands.

Yor watched fondly as (Y/n) and Anya guessed what kind of animals they would see. Her momentary mental tranquility was quickly brought down as the men made their return.

“M’lady,” Franky bowed, presenting (Y/n) with her drink.

“Thank you, my good sir.” (Y/n) gave a mock curtesy in return.

When it came time to board the train, Yor couldn’t help but maneuver in such a way that guaranteed the spot in the booth beside (Y/n), leaving as little space between them as possible.

“How are you holding up?” (Y/n) whispered.

“Hm?” Yor feigned ignorance, but she wasn’t fooling her partner in the slightest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) whispered under her breath, though Loid, Franky and Anya were well engrossed in their penguin talk and no one else in the subway car seemed to be paying them any mind, “I love you, you know.”

“I know…” Yor worried the hem of her sleeve between her fingers.

“Try to enjoy the aquarium. Then we can cuddle up with some hot cocoa when we get home.”

Yor managed a small smile and nodded. She did like the sound of that. Loid did say the hard part was behind them since they put on their show for the neighbors. Now they could just relax and enjoy the day.

Unfortunately, none of them had foreseen running into more of their nosey neighbors at the aquarium.

“Oh Forgers and…?”

(Y/n) sighed inwardly and stepped up beside Franky to make introductions again. Once everyone was aquatinted, Loid clapped his hands together, ready to move on from the other group and get to his mission, but Yor spoke up instead.

“Why don’t you join us? The more the merrier, right?”

(Y/n) and Loid only just barely managed to hide their shock and disbelief while the neighbors eagerly agreed to the plan. This was the last thing Yor wanted to do, believe her, but if they needed more opportunities to present themselves like a real family to get these people off of their backs, then so be it. If they needed to appear normal, they needed to be more chummy with their neighbors in situations like this, even if that meant…

“Let’s go look at the penguins, my dear. I know how much you love them!” Franky beamed, interlocking his elbow with (Y/n)’s.

Yor’s smile twitched. Franky was much too eager to continue the charade for her liking.

“Yes, starting with the penguins sounds perfect. Is that alright with everyone?” Loid asked, receiving murmured approvals in reply.

Yor could at least take solace in how much Anya was enjoying herself. However, it didn’t take very long before Loid said he needed to get more drinks and left. Then Franky slapped his hands against the enclosure guardrail.

“I got it! (Y/n), come with me!”

“Huh? But—“

Franky pulled (Y/n) away and the neighbors chuckled at their antics while Yor bared down harder on the guard rail to try to keep her sudden bloodlust at bay. Where was Franky taking her (Y/n)? Why was Loid so thirsty today? And where was Anya going—

And where was Anya going?

“Miss Anya, wait!”

But she had already disappeared into the crowd. Yor turned her head every which way, looking for any of the other adults

who were supposed to be responsible for this child along with her, but saw none of them. It looked like she was on her own.

“Excuse me,” she chuckled awkwardly, leaving the neighbors behind. Hopefully this wouldn’t reflect too badly on them.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) watched on as Franky tried name after name to win a giant penguin plush. After the next failed attempt left the man with his head in his hands (Y/n) chimed in,

“Why are you doing this anyway?”

“Why am I doing this? (Y/n), don’t you know how dates are supposed to go? If I win this thing and give it to you, that’s like, a bazillion happily dating couple points!”

“I don’t think we need to worry about it that much. We’ve already done a pretty convincing job. Just breaking off from the group like this is probably filling their heads with all kinds of ideas.” (Y/n) tried not to think too hard on that.

Also, (Y/n) actually wanted to enjoy all of what the aquarium had to offer. Anya looked so cute running around to visit all of the exhibits. She wanted to be a part of that, not be stuck at this booth all day.

Another wrong guess, she sighed inwardly and gave Franky a sympathetic shrug which was met with gearing up for another guessing attempt. She hoped Yor was enjoying herself at least. Hopefully Loid didn’t take to long getting back so he could distract her from her absence.

Yor was not enjoying herself, but she wasn’t worried about (Y/n) at that moment either.

“Miss Anya? Where did you go, Miss Anya?” Yor called out in between asking passers by if they had seen a little pink-haired girl.

Oh dear, where did she go? When was Loid going to come back? Why did Franky have to steal (Y/n) away? She needed help!

“Mama!”

Yor perked up and turned around. Immediate relief washed over her as Anya come into view in another hallway. That relief was quickly replaced with concern once she saw she was on the coattails of a stranger. Anya hastily yelled,

“Mama, I’m being kidnapped!”

Yor’s expression became steely as she began her pursuit. She caught up quickly and spun Anya into her protective embrace with dizzying speed. Glaring hard at the man, her foot found home under his jaw.

“What are you are doing to my daughter?!” She yelled, the force she exerted rocketed him through a ceiling tile, lodging his head within, his legs still dangling in plain view.

“Wow.” Anya blinked, watching the man’s legs sway.

‘Oh no, I definitely over did it! I hope he’s not dead!’ Yor whined to herself.

She would need to find (Y/n) to help her take care of the corpse if that was the case. At least then they could be alone together.

“Are you alright, Miss Anya?”

“Mhm, thank you mama.” This would definitely help Anya’s papa with his mission.

“Ahhh, you had me so worried,” Yor sighed, resting her head atop Anya’s while she held her in her arms, “Let’s get back to the group now.”

“Okay mama.”

Yor was disappointed to see that (Y/n) had yet to return and surprisingly, neither had Loid. She put on the most convincing smile she could and apologized to the neighbors for the Forgers’ sudden scattering.

“Oh don’t worry about it dear.” One of the older women assured.

“It can’t be easy raising a little one. Especially when your husband hasn’t come back at all yet… he must be cheating on you. Who takes this long to get a drink?”

“How awful.” The other agreed.

“Um,” Yor felt strangely guilty that Loid was the one under all of this scrutiny when she was the one technically having an affair, “That’s not…“

“Yor, sorry I took so long.”

Everyone turned to see Loid walking up with a giant stuffed penguin in his arms, and a bitter looking Franky and a bored (Y/n) flanking him as they walked up.

“Taadaaa.” Loid smiled, presenting the plush to Anya.

“Penguin!” Anya joyously cheered, hugging the penguin that was twice her size.

“Wow, so cute! Where did you get that?” Yor asked.

“It was a prize from a penguin guessing game. Once I saw it, I knew I had to win it for Anya. I played over and over until I got it right. I lost track of the time though, sorry I was gone so long,” he added sheepishly.

Everyone else ate that up, except for Anya of course and then Franky further distracted from the group’s previous topic by adding his grievances.

“I can’t believe while I was working so hard to win that penguin for my lady, you were standing somewhere amongst the crowd, waiting to take away all my glory!”

“Miss Anya will take better care of that penguin than I ever could.” (Y/n) assured. She only wished Loid could have guessed correctly faster to save her from standing in place. She watched the nearby tropical fish exhibit for so long, she could probably draw out a prefect replica.

“Wow, you’re a better father than I thought.” One of the women blinked, mildly impressed.

“Oh, thank you.” Loid smiled.

‘I wouldn’t thank someone for a “complement” like that.’ (Y/n) thought to herself as she bit her tongue in an effort to keep any snark she held to herself. She turned to watch Yor and Anya play with the stuffed penguin and felt more at peace.

“I’m just a simple father trying to keep my footing as I protect my happy little family.” Loid spoke tenderly, working his magic on the middle-aged women.

Looks like today had worked out after all.

“Let’s go see the dolphin show!” Anya was already lugging the penguin towards the exhibit.

“Good idea!” (Y/n) agreed, happy to finally see more of what the aquarium had to offer.

“Come on, Forger! Speed it up!” Franky teased, fully aware of the antics Loid had been up to all day.

“Can we slow down a bit maybe?” Loid asked. The poor man was crashing faster than an airplane out of fuel.

Still, he wouldn’t trade this moment of peace for anything in the world. He’d enjoy every second of it.

***

Anya was enjoying her morning after her busy day at the aquarium yesterday, by showing her penguin around their ‘hideout’.

“This is agent papa, he can do anything.” She explained to the penguin as she moved around the living room.

“And this is agent mama, she’s super strong, but bad at everything else.”

“Am I that much of a failure?” Yor bemoaned.

“Of course not darling, you are good at plenty of things.” (Y/n) assured as she prepared breakfast in the kitchen.

“And that is agent mama, not to be confused with other agent mama, she keeps the hideout squeaky clean and makes the yummiest food. The three of them together are Anya’s most trusted lackeys.” Anya nodded to herself, a pleased smile upon her lips. Then she continued on her path, dragging the penguin behind her.

She was running out of places to visit. She knew she shouldn’t be in their rooms without permission… but it was much too tempting for the little girl.

“The most top-secret rooms of the hideout. Papa and the mamas’ rooms.”

What wonders could she stumble upon in her spy father’s room or her assassin mother’s room? Special knives? Bombs? Acid? Her fingers barely touched the door knob before she was quickly pulled away, feet dangling off of the ground.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Loid yelled, more so out of worry for Anya’s well-being than anger. He had a lot of dangerous things in his room after all.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not go in my room without permission?”

The combination of the surprise of being grabbed and the tone of Loid’s voice caused Anya to burst into tears.

“I— Anya, don’t cry. There’s dangerous things like scissors and heaters in there and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Loid spoke more softly.

“Yes, you shouldn’t go into mine and (Y/n)’s room either.” Yor added gently. Too many needles and poisons, acids and cleaners. They could probably blow up the whole apartment building if they weren’t stored properly.

“Papa and mama, I hate you both!” Anya wailed, running to the kitchen and hoping for a bit of sympathy from (Y/n). Unfortunately, (Y/n) was in the middle of carrying a scalding hot pan to the plates as Anya ran into her thighs at full speed.

Thankfully, (Y/n)’s grip and balance stayed firm, but the scare of almost dumping hot food and oil over the little girl lead (Y/n) to shout,

“Miss Anya! No running in the kitchen, I could have seriously hurt you!” She scolded.

“Anya hates mama too!” Anya bawled, “Anya’s going to run away from home!”

The three adults jolted as if they had been struck by lightning, each feeling more awful the longer Anya cried. (Y/n) tried to console, but Anya kept crying until Loid picked up the Penguin and hid his flushed face in its soft back.

“A-agent Anya, there’s no time for crying. World peace is on the line!” Loid said, speaking in a higher tone that would have had (Y/n) struggling not to laugh if Anya hadn’t just said she hated her twenty seconds ago.

(Y/n) saw Yor grab a robot and followed suit by grabbing Anya’s pink chimera plush.

“L-let’s wrap up the hideout tour and go on our next mission.”

“Yes, let’s go beat the bad guys!” Robot Yor agreed.

“We’ll teach them not to mess with us!” Chimera (Y/n) chimed in.

Anya sniffled, but that seemed to have appeased her. She wiped her nose and commanded the three of them to follow her lead to the candy store.

It was a rather embarrassing outing for Loid, Yor and (Y/n), but to see Anya smile and laugh so happily, it made having to go out in public with toys over their faces and silly voices leading to giggling strangers worth it.

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

The generational abuse in Moral Orel

I literally watched this show a few weeks ago and made it my whole entire personality lol

So one of my favorite messages in Moral Orel is defiently based on how having kids when you are still dealing/repressing trauma is never a good idea because you will eventually pass on that trauma to your kids, with or without intention.

I mean, besides the absolutely beautiful lesson about how family shouldn't be something made out of obligation but out of love, the latter message sticks out to me quite a lot.

For starters we have Bloberta and Clay, In the outsiders eyes they may seem like the best parents ever, but as a viewer, we are aware of how god awful they are at parenting.

Blorberta reduces her responsabiltiy as a mother to cooking, cleaning, and briefly attending to her childrens physcial needs.

She is barley attentive to her childrens emotional needs and always ignores them and tries to brush off their emotions to feel better about her own self.

Another thing is that although shes physically there, she isn't actievely present in her childrens lives and is always in the background.

Orel never goes to her for guidance, and although that could be rooted in misogony another main reason is because she dismisses Orel constantly, telling him to go tell father or to go pray to God instead because shes busy cleaning.

Orel naturally has heavily been accostumed to not go to his mother for help unless it deals with food, clothes or messy rooms.

Then theres Shapey, who is obviously heavily neglected. His "bad" behaviors are manifested because of that constant negligence, she never once taught him anything and she will never bother to do so.

Shes always throwing Shapey around to Orel, making Orel the responsible one for Shapeys un-ethical behavior instead of realizing the reason he acts this way is because of the lack of an adult authoritive figure.

Most of her interaction with her kids are based on her giving them lunches, cleaning their room or when she lightly reprimands her kids when they get in the way of her cleaning.

Bloberta is a cold, cruel and emotionally distant mother...but why is that exactly?

Well, we can sort of blame the enviorment around her. Women in society, especially in a very religious society, are only respected when they are seen as "useful".

In Moralton, its clear that a womans worth is based on their usefulness for the people around them, ESPECIALLY their husbands and kids.

This very warped viewed on womanhood caused Bloberta to believe that the only right way to be a mother is just to be helpful enough in a physcial way, she never learned about the importance of emotionally nurturing her kids because in her eyes, thats the own kids job to do.

But the enviorment around her wasn't the only reason as to why shes a god awful parent, lets take a look at her family background.

Bloberta grew up with 3 siblings, and for some reason, her mother considered Bloberta to have an unimportant and neutral role in the family.

In turn, Bloberta felt useless, unloved and unwanted. The only person in the family who tried to help Bloberta was her dad, but even he couldn't stomach connecting with her unless he was drunk enough to do so.

So anyways, she's dealing with all this internalized urge to be of use in her own house.

Her decision to settle down with Clay was flat out obviously not out of love, but out of a need to be percieved as wanted.

It was both for her own personal need and to finally succeed in societal image's standards.

She also seems to be someone who cares a whole lot about her looks. She cares about them to the point she doesn't let anyone see her messy hair, baggy eyes, and lack of makeup. Including her own family.

She doesn't feel comfortable enough to show her true self to her own family. She keeps up an image even with her own blood.

Clay obviously never loved her from the beggining so she starts looking for external love aswell.

Which is why she cheats on Clay with Danielle and seeks sexual attention from Dr. Potters Wheel.

So all in all, she is basically seen as an extention to her husband and kids, which causes her to feel well...numb.

This numbness eventually is what makes her to start actively self harm. She feels absolutely nothing for her husband and kids besides this socital need to be seen as a good wife and mother.

One can argue that she does care for her kids, but it's not deep care, it's out of duty.

Although Orel can be naive, he does subconciously take in that her mother is never there in his personal life. In the episode "movie primere" Bloberta is only mentioned twice, because she has never tried to gain any type of connection with her kids.

Orel also admits that Stephanie (a peeson he JUST met) radiates more kindness than his own mother.

The reason she never reached out for her kids in an emotional sense was because no one ever did that with her as a kid, she doesn't know how to do it, she doesn't know how to deal with her own kids emotional needs because she herself has a looot of repressed urges and stress.

She doesn't bother to deal with her childrens pain because shes too busy trying to repress her own.

So thats the reason Bloberta is a god awful mother... Is it justified? Of course fucking not!!! But its totally okay to be able to sympathize and understand her.

Now we have Clay... Boy this is going to be a ride.

Also Clay's parenting towards Shapey and doesn't fully count, they aren't actually his kids. Is the way he neglects Shapey okay? Hell no but we can't expect him to care for him when he struggles to be attentive to his actual son.

Unlike Bloberta, Clay is way more present in Orel's life than she ever is, and although this should be considered a good thing, theres many factors that say the contrary.

Orel's almost-instict reaction when he wants advice is "gee... I have to ask dad!" that includes even asking him during unreasonable times, for example, when hes sleeping or when it's waaay to early in the morning.

This gives us an understanding that Orel trusts his father to guide him.

Without context, that's the sweetest thing ever until we realize Clay constantly spanks, gives hypocritcal lectures and constantly tries to drain the natural curiosity in Orel.

His way of connection through Orel is through scolding him, through reprimanding him and through physical abuse (well—Clay doesn't consider it physcial abuse but we all know damm well that it is).

He sometimes gives little pats in the head or puts his hands on his shoulder as a small way of normal parental physical reassurance but thats about it.

As for emotional reassurance, it's very scarce.

Clay avoids any external conversations with his child unless it involved any sort of scolding or hypocritcal lessons.

He once openly admits he loves Orel but it was worded pretty interesting: "Oh Orel, I could never love you more! People only have a certain amount of love in them and im afraid I have to divide mine up between atleast a dozen people.... But remember son, I love you enough."

His argument here is that he loves too many people so he can't spend it all on Orel, but the true reason he can't fully love Orel is a much more sinister reason.

Let's talk about Clay's background shall we?

Clay grew up for 12 years very pampered by his mother. His father was much more stern and lacked much warmth but he still tried to be present for his son.

His mother made Clay believe that he was the most precious thing to her, until later Clay starts finding out about his mothers multiple miscarriages which causes him to have a full existencial crisis.

He wouldn't have existed if it weren't for the previous miscarriages.

This causes Clay to pull a really childishly cruel prank where he plays dead to worry his mother and father.

What Clay expected from this prank was to be reassured that no matter the previous miscarriages, he will always be loved by his mother the most.

Well... Lets just summarize that Clays mothet has a weak heart and in turn died of shook.

Ever since that incident his father blamed Clay for the death of his mother.

Arthur (clays dad) would hit him, and Clay started to view that as affection because thats the only fatherly acknwoledgement Clay ever got to know.

So Clay would purpously rile his father up so that he can hit him and give him the desperate fatherly attention he craved.

But Arthur noticed this, and instead of realizing how much he's fucked up his own childs perception of love, he completely stops paying attention to Clay, basically disowning him without ever kicking him out of the house.

So now we understand why Clay connects with his son through physical abuse, right? This was the only fatherly attention he ever got as a kid and he doesn't know what else he can do to show his kid love since he never got it himself.

And although this is an unpopular opinion, Clay really was trying to put an effort into being a good father. In "beforel Orel" he didn't talk to Orel because he was nervous about his parenting.

It was until he faced his father again which gave him the outmost confidence to parent Orel in a way that his own father never did.

His parenting skills are obviously the worst though lol.

Orel may have loved his father, but his subconcious feared him.

One time when Orel made a stopmotion he drew Clay as a scary wolf saying that his dad was made as a dog because "he's loyal and good." Orel understandably feared his father, I mean the only way he properly interacted with him was through his father hitting and scolding him.

Now, something important to consider is that Clay never wanted to get married, he confirms this in the episode of season 3 "help". He got manipulated in a marriage with Bloberta and it was too late to pull back.

His horrible marriage with Bloberta aswell as being tied to a family and job that he didn't actually want start to make him extremely miserable.

Which causes him to drown out all his pain with alcohol.

But funnily enough, alcohol only worsens his pain more.

In the nature p1 AND p2 episodes, we realize how much alcohol Clay consumes, which is honestly really disturbing.

So basically in those episodes, Clay takes Orel to a haunting trip, trying to continue the Puppington tradition (funnily enough, that tradition was cut short after Clay's mothers death).

Orel being a normal child, wasn't really keen on killing animals, so he was already quite nervous about the hunting trip.

When they arrive to the reserve, Clay is drinking and he doesn't stop, each time he drinks out of frustration that Orel hasn't killed any animal.

Orel gives up and doesn't kill anything, telling Clay that he isn't comfortable hunting with his him. He then proceeds to call him "too drunk" which in return makes Clay mad.

Clay proceeds to call Orel as pessimist by saying his cup is always half empty, which is ironic considering Orel is naturally one of the most positive characters in the whole series.

He then goes onto a rambling, confusing bright with "blight" and then admiting his own life is truly full of blight, he starts crying and then says how he hates himself.

Orel starts tearing up himself, never expecting to see his dad in such a state.

The bottle in his hands start yelling at him "WHY DO YOU QUIT WORKING ON ME?" implying that Clay would expect the alcohol to drown out the pain but instead amplifies it more.

He then starts rambling again, he is quite literally talking about women and how they force you into something you don't want and "squeeze things out of you."

I think the "women" he's proyecting on is defiently Bloberta. He didn't want a marriage, but he was manipulated and obligated into one anyway, and then public image caused them to force themselves into having a child.

Clay didn't want that, he didn't want to be tied down this way. He expected that having a family could make him feel alright, but that eventually quit "working on him" because it wasn't what he evidently needed.

His rant on women can also tie down to his own repressed homosexuality, which makes this all too sad.

Later on, Clay foolishly starts handeling his gun with no safety on and accidently shoots Orel in the leg.

Instead of apologizing he asks "what have you done?" and Orel responds "I got shot by you..." his passive sentence here gives us an understanding that he is still processing that his own dad shot him.

When Clay opens the first aid kit, he sees the rubbing alcohol and drinks it up instead of applying it on his son, which causes Orel to finally say "I hate you."

This was Orels moment of realization.

Clay being drunk and obviously dismissive of the power of Orel's words just brushes it off by saying "Hate away, sister. Hate away."

When Clay sobers up the next morning, he completely acts as if he didn't shot his son, not wanting to accept he hurt his son that way aswell as not wanting to accept the blame.

Orel also lied to Clay that day, telling him that Clay shoot the bear and not Orel himself, because he didn't feel like his dad was someone worth making proud. He wasn't worth it.

When they return home, Orel has a conversation with his mother asking her why she married dad in which Bloberta responds "why not?"

This has been Blorberta's whole thinking process ever since she met Clay, "he's an attractive man and I have to marry soon to prove my worth so why not?"

She never choose Clay out of love, but out of mere obligation and pressure.

When Orel tells her mom that when Clay drinks he changes, Bloberta finally confirms to Orel that he doesn't change, that its just his true nature coming out.

All those repressed emotions, toxic masculinity, societal pressure, labor stress, awful marriage, and the crumbling of his perfect image.

Thats Clay's true nature, how he feels about himself and how he deals with it is what makes him who he is.

Afterwards, we have an amazing episode called "Sacrifice".

This episode is the most self-awarness we will ever get from Clay.

So this takes place literally after the haunting trip, Clay overhears the previous conversation between Blorberta and Orel.

He then also finds out his wife has been desiring Dr. Potters Wheel. So he decides to drown all that out by going to a bar.

In this episode, Clay kickstarts into a series of alcohol induced rants.

He initally focuses on the term sacrifice, feeling as if he's sacrificing his own happiness for his kids.

Clay thinks that by economically supporting and lecturing his kids is enough to give them satisfaction. It's a really hypocritcal rant because although he does mantain the whole family, he also made his family life miserable by keeping his awful marriage with Bloberta and drinking alchol to drown his sorrows.

Aftee a whole series of events unfold...Clay's monolouge gets deep.

"maybe there was a jerkoff called Darwin after all and that you never acknowledged his existence, because you knew deep inside that you were really what you feared you were: Weak, and passive, and ultimately broken by the ones who were made the fittest. And then through your weaknesses you built up a poison, that poisoned others around you... That you love..."

He then starts tearing up when he says that, unable to truly finish the sentence. He ultimately knows that he destroyed a dynamic with the only person in the family that genuienly loved him.

He feels hurt, he feels torn, but the guilt won't make the bullet hole go away (literally).

I also have to mention that Clay wss desperately trying to poke at the people who were in the bar, expecting them to beat him up. He wanted to be beat up, to be proven that he is worth it, Clay used to measure his wortfulness over how well he parented Orel. But after the incident, he can't even feel slightly worth it, thats why he needs to be proven by others that he is.

But everyone leaves him alone, because he truly isn't worth it anymore. And he knows it.

It is also implied by Orel that Clay has hid away in his study for 6 months. He stayed away from Orel out of personal disgust and guilt, but refussing to change and take responsibility.

During Honor, we see Orel desperately trying to find a way to still honor his father, so reverend putty tells him to go to talk to someone who truly loves his dad to find out the reasoning behind it.

Orel then goes to Danielle.

Now Danielle was actually upset with Clay because he saw him kissing Censordoll.

He was hurt because well, he loves Clay and Clay would rather get physical with another woman for buisness issues over giving Danielle the actual love he feels for him. (once again, repressed homosexuality!!!)

Orel and Danielle basically hang out throughout the whole day, which causes Clay great jealousy and discomfort.

He then drags Bloberta and his two illegilimate kids to Danielle's home.

He burts through Danielle's door and tells him to stay away from Orel because.... "he's not yours I am."

Cats out of the bag now, am I right folks?

Sadly, thats not the case.

He immedietly brushes off what he said and hugs Orel, looking lovingly into Danielle's eyes.

"Oh how I miss you... Orel"

"I need you in my life... Orel"

"and I..."

He then pushes Orel away and walks towards Danielle, repeating "I love you" mulitple times but ends the last "I love you" with Orel's name. Still trying to shield his very obvious declaration of love.

Danielle was the only person that Clay actually loved that didn't involve manipulation, obligation, or mommy issues.

But of course, he screwed it up. It was too late.

Clay deprived himself of the arguably healthiest love he would ever have.

After this episode, we get a beautiful time skip

The time skip includes Orel finally marrying Christina.

Christina is someone that Morelton looks down upon because of her differing beliefs.

But Orel gives a damn about image, he loved Christina as a kid and always has.

In turn of marrying someone he truly loves, he had children he truly wanted with her.

Like the Reverend said "family is sometimes a group of people that are forced to live together but every so often, a miracle happens."

The miracle was Orel choosing his own life without the need of societal pressure. Orel genuienly marrying for love.

In the end scene, we see all the happy kids sitting with Orel while Christina sits next to him.

And in the back we see Clay and Blorberta, who grew old together and never divorced.

They are miserable and will always be miserable.

Orel, however? He learned not to follow into their footsteps.

He broke the chain. And I admire his braveness.

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[drivingsideways]

Melo is My Nature Review

Well, as usual, I’m late to the party! I picked up 2019′s Melo is my Nature/ Be Melodramatic with some trepidation since I was (am!) still smarting a bit from the disappointment that’s Hospital Playlist S2, and I wasn’t quite ready for another. 

I’m so glad I gave it a chance! While it isn’t a “perfect” series- in the nature of the world *sigh*- its combination of quirky, clever, self-aware humour and heartfelt performances won me over from the first episode. 

More thoughts under the cut (along with some spoilers)

I’m very fond of ensemble dramas that love their characters, and “Melo is my Nature” does that very well. Perhaps a little too well, to the point that you feel the writers letting themselves be more than a little indulgent during the middle stretch of the episodes. But I can’t complain too much, because yes, I know the feeling!  “Side characters” that refuse to stay in the lane and take over the narrative are also my favourites, as a writer and a viewer. I loved, loved, loved Lee Joo-bin as the flighty-but-amazingly-smart Lee So-min; that felt like such a delightful  clap-back against the prevailing sentiment that often goes against young, successful women and the ridiculous levels of expectations of them, in how they need to perform gender and  femininity and smartness. I loved that (like Emma! There’s a lot of Jane in this series!) the writers managed to make her likeable even though they never disregard her flaws or its consequences.

 Another performance/ character that I totally adored was Baek Ji-won as Jeong Hye-jeong, the industry maven who may be (?) a nod to Kim Eun-sook, I suppose! I was afraid at some point that they’d just trash her character, by making her a little too ridiculous in an unkind way, but I found some of the loveliest scenes involved her- like the one where she tells Jin-joo to do the work, but not be too successful. In the end, there was a love and fondness for her, a genuine empathy, that really was core to what made this show so successful. 

Shout out also to two of the weirdest characters I’ve watched, but thoroughly loved- Heo Joon-seok as Director Dong-gi & Lee Ji-min as Nutritionist (?) Da-mi. I absolutely adored that the only wedding in this series is between these two, and they do it in a completely predictably-unusual way. 

Re: the “main” characters, I loved all of them without exception, though some more than the others :) One of the things I love about the show is how real and present the three female leads feel; they feel like whole, entire people rather than caricatures of them, even when the show reaches almost unusual levels of quirky. I love that a through-line of the narrative is how important women’s labour is- to themselves. The work they do, which is acknowledged as a part of their identity rather than just something they do to pay bills (though of course there’s acknowledgement of that aspect too!),  their hunger to do it well and for it to matter- all of that is portrayed in a way that’s charming  but still taken very seriously. And the way you know that its taken seriously is in the things they focus on- how Oh Jin-joo struggles to write alone, and how Han-joo’s learning to be someone’s mentor while struggling with her own insecurities, and how lost Eun-jung feels, when work which was supposed to give her purpose fails her in a time of crisis, and how unmoored she feels without it. 

Re: the romance- I’m someone predisposed to dislike heterosexual romance, especially at the present moment, so it’s always with a great deal of hesitation that I start watching shows that I know have a large romance component. It’s always a bit of a coin toss for me whether the show will end up making me hate the romance or just about tolerate it. I rarely expect to *like * it.  So “Melo is my Nature” was a pleasant surprise!  This is  one of the few series where I felt the writers put in the work to sell the “main romance” of the show. You get to know the Oh Jin-joo and Beom-soo in sharply etched sketches before they move into the romance part (with a lot of tongue-in-cheek meta humour about the formulaic nature of tv romances). I genuinely felt that thrill of  “oh this could go platonic or romantic and I would like either” slowly ease into “oh my god these two are MEANT TO BE”, because the Romance is clearly in the all the ways they are NOT meant to be, but also, very, very definitely are. DELICIOUS. Just my cup of Jane Austen in a different context/ time.

Through most of the show though, my heart was divided between two characters- Jeon Yeo-bin’s stellar Eun-jung and Han Ji-eun’s pitch perfect Han-joo. Jeon Yeo-bin brought edginess, dark humour and a deep, almost- inconsolable grief to Eun-jung. Some of the stand out scenes of the entire series are hers: the moment where she watches herself on video talking to an imaginary person, and the moment she breaks down in front of the psych after talking about her mother. Watching this show, it really felt like- oh, she’s a star. Consider me sold on her for life (though, no, I will not watch Vincenzo unless there’s a Hong Cha-young supercut out there, in which case, please put it in my eyeballs now)

Han Ji-eun, imho, actually pulled off the toughest performance, because I think Han-joo’s strength of character is so often concealed by her “silliness” (in a similar vein to So-min’s), and that often makes her someone you’d overlook or not take seriously.  But god, she broke my heart, from the scene in the first episode where she’s sitting alone at a table after a rough day and watching her horrible ex live his best life to the hilarious and excruciating  “Oppa” scene, to the one where her kid is quite unconsciously cruel to her in the way kids can be. I was disappointed in the way they dropped the “reveal” about whom she’s dating in the last episode- not that I wanted her to be in an romance with Jae-hoon, god, NO- but it felt quite clunky.  This is one of the two complaints I have with the show. 

The second one is that starting from the middle, episodes began to noticeably feel like scenes/ sketches spliced together. Each scene is, within itself, perfectly written and performed, but the seams between the stories began to show. I felt one of the main reasons was that Eun-jung’s trauma tonally felt like it belonged in another show, but instead it had to get stitched into the mostly happy/ frothy storylines of the other characters. Sure, we had Hae-joon and his girlfriend’s terrible relationship, but the show had an easier time integrating that by way of Han-joo.

That said, I love how clever this show is! I love that it loves its own cleverness and can’t resist the urge to show it off- from all the meta references, in-universe jokes, and oh, that entire episode devoted to farting, complete with a song about it,  which I think maybe my fave episode of the series. A great look at the place of performance in intimate relationships (and how the women bear the burden of it more than the men), but coming at it from a place of compassion and humour rather than anger. Love that choice, for the show and us! 

I think @rain-hat mentioned in a comment here or twitter that Melo feels like a part of a triangle of shows along with Run On and Search : WWW.  I’m inclined to swap out Run On for Rookie Historian, or huh, maybe change the triangle for a quadrangle? Rookie Historian dares to imagine a past where our protagonist is (mostly) unshackled by the patriarchy and in the “modern” ending to its main heterosexual romance, reminds us that people have always found ways to find joy and thrive outside the rigid bounds of society. Search: WWW goes about it in the opposite direction- placing us in a present/future where the patriarchy doesn’t  and hasn’t ever mattered. Melo, I think, doesn’t quite do that, but in common with both these shows, it refuses to focus on the trauma of living under such structural violence, and instead talks about how we all (irrespective of gender) can find a way to remain unbroken by it. And while both Search:WWW and Melo do well at queer-platonic relationships as an alternate to the heterosexual project, it’s Run On, I think, which goes furthest there- firstly because though ostensibly structured around a het romance, that romance turns out to be falling in love with yourself/ loving yourself;  secondly because it’s most explicitly queer in the choices that the characters make and the lives that they choose for themselves- Min-joo & May are each others darlings and will be for life, Yeong-hwa and Ki Seon-gyeom are allowed a tenderness in their friendship that feels like an explicit repudiation of toxic masculinity, and of course, you have May being asexual, but not aromantic, and Goh Ye-jun’s whole arc of accepting himself as a gay man, and finding acceptance of that identity from others. 

Anyway! tl;dr would recommend (and have recommended!) Melo is my Nature to anyone fond of women, clever story telling and also ridiculously happy songs.

[seattlesea]

The Poor Character Developments in the Heroes of Olympus Series

Rick Riordan doesn’t know how to write character arcs ✨

-Percy. What arc did he even have? From The Last Olympian to The Son of Neptune it seems like he just got more arrogant and douchey, and this is never explained or expanded on. The readers don’t know why he suddenly got so arrogant. His pride got out of control and he was doing things he knew he couldn’t do but jumped into anyway like attacking a giant head-on alone. He was reckless in PJO, but every time he always had a plan. In HoO he just turned careless. He even put other demigods’ lives at risk at times and honestly didn’t do much throughout the series. He was just kind of there, not really contributing to anything and only involved when the book needed comedic relief or to remind the readers that ‘Hey, Percy is super cool and powerful’. As for his arc, he didn’t change at all. He just got annoying and way too self-involved and vain. I mean- he was literally in front of Hercules, the man who broke Zoë Nightshade’s heart- the girl who literally sacrificed herself for Percy- and he didn’t even say or do anything? He didn’t even mention Zoë or think about her at all. All he was worried about was how ‘big-shot Jason’ got to meet the all-famous Hercules and he didn’t. And this never changed. Percy’s character arc was completely flat cause he never learned from his lessons or mistakes. Even when in Tartarus and was reminded of all the people that he lost during the Second Titan War, how he forgot about Calypso on her island for over two years, and how he left Bob the Titan alone in the Underworld, he didn’t make any move to change. After that scene, he completely forgot to even mention them again. 

-Annabeth. Same thing with Annabeth, except her realism was ripped from her. She was well-written in PJO with actual flaws and weaknesses, relationships outside of her romantic one with Percy, a very important and crucial role, fighting bravely, etc., but in HoO, she- just like Percy- was pretty much dead weight, and she became extremely weak. The only thing she really accomplished was following the Mark of Athena and getting the Athena Parthenos, but she still had to be saved by everyone else, and honestly any other demigod could’ve done it way faster. Nico literally could’ve just shadow-travelled to the statue then shadow-travelled it back out. The only times she fought (which was very few times) she was always with another demigod, and the two-three times she actually fought she always had to be saved, by a newbie, especially. In the Temple of Fear, Piper ‘toughened’ her up and saved her three times from the giant Mimas, and when caught by the giants, Piper was the one to save Annabeth (again). She couldn’t do anything by herself without others having to save or help her. And she also became very dull. She didn’t have any more of her pride, short temper, care, ferocity, etc. All she was was a Percy fangirl. Everything was about him and him only. This also didn’t change. We didn’t see any improvement or alterations to her personality whatsoever. 

-Jason. The majority of the fandom doesn’t like Jason- which is understandable- but they hate on him for the wrong reasons. They dislike him cause he was ‘boring’ despite him actually having multiple distinct personality traits. They just think he didn’t have any personality cause his traits weren’t directly commented on like the other characters’ were (which is actually bad writing, readers should be able to interpret a character’s personality without it being stated to them by other characters). And he even had a sense of humor. His character arc though...fell short. But! He could’ve had an amazing character arc, Riordan just focused on the wrong parts. Riordan’s take on Jason’s character arc was deciding if he was more ‘Greek or Roman’ and then deciding he was both. But...that makes no sense, cause that’s just stereotyping every single Greek and every single Roman. The fandom says that the Romans are the cruel, harsh, and merciless ones, but what about Hazel? Or Frank? Or Reyna? Or the fact that they immediately accepted Nico while Camp Half-Blood outcasted and even ostracized him? And they say that the Greeks are the fun, cool, relaxed ones, but what about Percy, the only character to canonically torture? Or Annabeth, the unfriendly bossy one? Or Thalia, the merciless, ambitious hunter? Or Piper, the prejudiced manipulator? So really, Jason’s character arc made no sense. It was written to be Jason going from ‘always following the rules and following expectations because of his godly parent’ to ‘doing whatever he wants’, but the fandom forgets that Camp Jupiter is the one who doesn’t care about godly parent, Camp Half-Blood does, cause Camp Jupiter has demigods live in barracks for the sole purpose of demigods without family members not having to live alone while Camp Half-Blood separates cabins and tables by parentage and immediately set Percy to high standards after he was claimed. Besides, does Camp Jupiter have harpies that literally kill demigods if they’re out past curfew? Plus, Jason was breaking multiple rules before his character arc anyways- leaving Camp Jupiter, sailing across the Mediterranean Sea, etc. 

-Piper. Oh boy. Where to start with this one. I’ve already gone over how her horribly-portrayed backstory ruined the chances of a good character arc, but now let’s discuss the character arc she actually had. And the best way to describe it is ‘tell not show’. The main idea for Piper’s character arc was that she felt insecure about herself and useless and that she gained confidence in herself and her powers, but that’s not actually what happened, because starting from The Lost Hero, Piper showed multiple narcissistic tendencies that showed that she had a huge ego and placed herself on a pedestal she did nothing to earn or deserve. This is first shown with femininity- Piper immediately thinks that she’s better and above any girl if they so much as wear lip gloss or a dress, which is a sign of an obvious ego: thinking you’re better than everyone else (or in her case, a certain group of people) before getting to know them first. It’s also shown when her and Annabeth are looking for a weapon for Piper and when suggested that she doesn’t choose a dagger cause she’s a newbie, Piper retaliates with “But you use a dagger”...aka thinking she’s already on Annabeth’s level and that she can do whatever Annabeth can despite being a newbie. It’s not hypocrisy if Annabeth has been training for over nine years. Another example would be in The Mark of Athena-  "Piper's eyes flashed defiantly, like anything Reyna could do, she could do". Like, no, she can’t, cause Reyna has been training her whole life and Piper doesn’t even know her. Piper shows multiple signs of having a very high opinion of herself, including degrading others (especially other women) for her own sake, thinking she can do what anyone else can, thinking she’s better than everyone else, constantly fussing over her appearance, thinking she deserves everything she’s gotten and that she deserves more without earning it, etc., so her entire character arc wasn’t even there. She just went from quiet about her narcissism to openly expressing it. She never grew from her horrible traits and habits, never realized she was wrong by jumping all over Jason while he was amnesiac, etc., and the whole ‘feeling of uselessness’ was brought up once then never expanded on or mentioned ever again, and nor was her internalized misogyny and fiery hatred towards femininity (which wasn’t even explained). Riordan should’ve used the ‘snobby rich girl learns to be kinder and more modest’ or expanded on the fact that Piper almost killed her friends multiple times. In Katoptris, she saw Jason with gold eyes in Kansas then said ‘Let’s go to Kansas!’ She saw her, Jason, and Percy literally drowning and legit said ‘Let’s go drown!’ without telling them about what she actually saw in her dagger. She saw her and Annabeth exploring some ruins and said ‘Let’s go!’ despite knowing the visions were deadly. She put all of her friends in multiple, life-threatening situations and never felt guilty and wasn’t even called out on it, because no one said if the visions in Katoptris were fate- something you can’t avoid- or destiny- something you can choose and change. 

-Frank. Frank’s character arc was clear, but it happened in the wrong way. The main idea of his development was that he was insecure about his appearance then gained confidence from it, but he did only after he magically gained rippling abs and muscle. He only felt good about himself once he lost all his fat as if that’s not obvious lookism, fatphobia, and fat shaming (thanks, Riordan). Frank should’ve learned to love himself despite his flab and appearance and learned that it didn’t matter what he looked like cause he would still be a hero either way. He should’ve shown the readers that ‘Hey, I don’t care what I look like, cause appearance doesn’t matter, whether you choose to do the right thing or not does’, but it was wasted for fat shaming every single reader who was insecure about their weight and didn’t or couldn’t get skinnier and telling them that they should be insecure about themselves because they don’t look like Frank. Is it really so hard for society to believe that a lot of people who aren’t stick-thin are happy and confident about their body? 

-Hazel. Honestly, her character arc was one of the most confusing ones, cause she didn’t have anything to drive or even start one. Her backstory is tragic, yes, but there isn’t anything in it that she has to learn to change from cause all of that was resolved when she took down Alcyoneus and Gaea. The only thing I can think of is learning to break away from toxic people even if they’re your family or friend or cause you don’t want to hurt their feelings, but Hazel didn’t struggle with relationships at all. She wasn’t even introduced to any toxic people besides Octavian, and she already hated him. Her transition from the racist and segregated days to the modern world could’ve been really good material for a character arc along with internalized racism- she of all people (someone born and raised in segregation who was taught to hate herself and her skin tone) would grow up thinking that there was something wrong with her because of her dark skin tone and- especially after meeting so many different people of different ethnic groups and skin colors- could’ve learned to love herself and learn that skin tone doesn’t define you (which also would’ve been a perfect lesson for younger readers). Another thing that puzzled me about her ‘development’ was her powers. Her Mist control powers are cool, but what would’ve been cooler was if she was reluctant to use them because she wouldn’t want to twist the minds of people just like Gaea did to her mom. Her gem and metal control powers could’ve been expanded on but they were barely mentioned after The Son of Neptune. As for her curse, that...made absolutely no sense. Her curse was honestly just dead weight. It wasn’t even that one thing that had a lot of potential, it didn’t even have potential, cause what would she ever use it for? It was just used to make her backstory sadder, but it was never mentioned again or even explained. The only thing it could’ve been used for (and what I was hoping would happen) was if one her friends or allies took one of her cursed jewels and died because of it. The one thing I was really hoping to see in her character arc was from the quote she said to Hecate after Hecate gave her the three paths to choose from- “I’m not choosing one of your paths. I’m making my own.” This really sparked my interest because almost everything Hazel had gone through was forced onto her by others without her consent. She didn’t choose to be born into racism and segregation. She didn’t choose to be cursed. She didn’t choose to be used as a pawn by Gaea through her mother. She didn’t choose to almost raise a giant and nearly bring upon the apocalypse. She didn’t choose to use her curse against others and move to multiple places. She didn’t choose to be brought back to life. She didn’t choose to be brought to Camp Jupiter and thrown into an army. She didn’t choose to be a part of the Seven and face the same woman who used her and had her mother possessed years ago. The only two choices she made herself- destroying the island and Alcyoneus and sacrificing Elysium so her mother wouldn’t go to the Fields of Punishment- and she and her mother died because of it and she went to Asphodel for years. I was really hoping to see Hazel break free from others always making decisions for her and learn to make her own choices, but that never happened. 

-Leo: His character arc was also very confusing, but because it was all over the place. Riordan kept switching up Leo’s internal problems; forgetting about one of them and jumping to another, jumping to three different others, and then going back to the first one a few chapters later. It was so confusing. And then- in the end- he focused on the worst problem Leo had- not finding a love interest. I mean, who exactly focuses on whether or not they have a girlfriend while in the middle of a war and fighting to survive again? I liked Leo’s other problems- guilt over and blaming himself for his mother’s death, seeing his fire powers as a curse instead of a gift, forcing himself to hide his pain with humor instead of opening up to people, running away from all his problems, and his abandonment issues and constant fear of being left out and alone, but they were all replaced with ‘He felt like the seventh wheel’ (cause yes, Riordan, if you don’t have a love interest, you are immediately lesser than anyone who does, obviously). Leo got over his mother’s death in The Lost Hero- which, great- but after that nothing too memorable changed about his character. He never even used or mentioned his fire powers after The Lost Hero, he continued to hide all his pain with humor, hide his emotions from other people, and never learned to open up to others about his pain and trauma, he never learned to stop running away from his powers (shown by when he faked his own death without bothering to talk to the others about feeling left out), and his abandonment issues and fears were never expanded on, he just ran into the arms of a girl who verbally abused and constantly insulted him AKA ran to the person who gave him attention, even if it was the bad kind of attention, as if that’s not something emotionally scarred people and people with abandonment issues do, and he never grew from accepting unfair hate and criticism. 

-Nico. His character development was actually pretty good. From going to an energetic, cheerful, and playful kid to becoming a quiet, closed-off, and independent teen who struggled with depression and feeling alone and like he didn’t belong, to finding comfort in his family and friends (especially Reyna, Hazel, and Will) and learning to accept himself for who he was (as a son of Hades and as gay) and how to confide in others about his struggles, problems, and trauma and finally letting people in after being do dubious of people after Percy broke his promise to protect Bianca, he found out that King Minos was using him, and almost all of Camp Half-Blood excluded and ignored him. After being alone for most of his life, by the end of The Blood of Olympus, he has two homes (as stated by Reyna), is comfortable with people hugging him, allowed people to take care of and help him, decided to stay at Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter instead of isolating himself, made a bunch of new friends that helped him through his struggles, and he even showed multiple signs of healing from his depression and anxiety. His character development was pretty well-written. But, there was one thing wrong with it that kind of ruined the rest- his love life. Nico had an incredible character arc that could’ve taught multiple valuable lessons to younger readers, but most of it was ditched after he came out as gay in The House of Hades. Throughout all of his point of views in The Blood of Olympus, Nico never thought about any of his past trauma or struggles, Bianca, his new family and friends, etc. Pretty much all he thought about was finding out how to come out to the others and Percy. And while mustering the courage to come out is a huge deal and is great material for a character arc, Riordan never actually utilized it. Nico telling Reyna he was gay was really touching (best duo) and telling Percy he had a crush on him was great, but after that, his entire character was about his attraction towards Will (which was way too rushed, but that’s for another rant), and it got pretty annoying cause it made it obvious that Riordan only confirmed him gay for publicity by trying to shove it in the reader’s faces as if every gay person needs to have a boyfriend to validate and prove their sexuality. Riordan should’ve stayed on track with Nico’s original character arc. 

-Reyna. THE BEST CHARACTER ARC. Hers was actually really good. She started off trying to do everything on her own because she believed that she had to be strong enough to do things by herself without help from others to learning that it’s okay to ask for help. She also started off with the (quite serious and traumatizing) problem of bottling all her emotions because she believed that she always had to put on a strong, brave face for others without showing any signs of weakness to learning that it’s okay to express your emotions and confide in others (and again, that it’s okay to ask for help). This was mostly evident after she met Nico, which (in my opinion) kick-started her motivation to change because once she saw how much Nico needed help and giving him that support and comfort, realized that everyone is allowed to ask for help and started confiding in Nico as well. I like how she stayed strict and serious cause she has a formal job- a job that’s equivalent to an American’s president, that is- so she’s supposed to be serious, and she’s only strict cause she wants to protect her people. Though I do hate when people misjudge her as ‘cold-hearted’ or ‘cruel’ because Reyna is actually one of the kindest and most selfless characters in the series. Even Pegasus (the immortal lord of the pegasi) was ‘touched’ by Reyna’s ‘compassion’ towards Scipio (he didn’t even say that to Percy about Blackjack), and it’s pretty obvious she cares deeply about her family, friends, and people. And overall, her character arc was easily the best-written one in HoO. But then Riordan- just like he does with most things in this series- completely trashed her character arc just so he could have the opportunity to make fun of wlw readers who thought Reyna and Thalia would be a good couple by making her leave everything behind for the Hunters of Artemis just cause she ‘couldn’t find a love interest’ as if joining the Hunters is the only option for single female demigods instead of just...living a normal demigod life without a partner without leaving everything they know and love behind for no reason other than their shitty love life. 

[crossdressingdeath]

I know you'll probably disagree with me, but i rlly hate the Cloud recessess ending. It's just....

Those elders killed wwx. The Lans were 100% ready to murder both at Qiongqi path but also at the siege. They see him as the guy who corrupted their precious jade. They all preach righteousness, but the whole madam Lan thing is iffy at best and i do not believe that everyone there fully believes the rules. Hell, i have a special bone to pick with the " do not gossip" rule, seeing as gossip had been the main info route for women in patriarchal societies.

I just don't think that after wwx killed Lans in the siege they'd be all that willing to forgive him and take him in w open arms. The juniors and kids love him, yes, but people who saw the war....

Not to mention the whole " do not speak to WWX " rule. I've seen ppl say it's a joke but it's On The Wall. It's supposed to be followed. Even if it was intended as a joke - which i don't believe - it's very cruel for someone w rejection and trust issues.

I also hate it from a very personal perspective. I see Wwx as ND, and, as an ND myself, all those rules terrify me. From the no running and the proper posture ones, i can pretty well imagine they forbid stimming. The Lan curfew would fuck anyone with insomnia and there's smth deeply ucked up abt the " do not grieve in excess". I get that they're supossed to be a paragon of the best things at all time, and that LJY is very UnLan like, but for someone w anxiety who CAN'T follow those rules, it would be a nightmare.

...Some points:

First, the Lan elders did not kill WWX, nor did they attack him unfairly. They weren’t looking at him as the man who corrupted LWJ, either, or at least that wasn’t their primary concern (I will never forgive CQL for suggesting they were or it was); they were looking at him as a traitor to the sects who was raising an army to destroy them. Remember, that is the information the Lans had. Every source they had except for LWJ (who the people he would have gone to would have known was biased and who presumably everyone knew had recently been in close contact with WWX where he could have been manipulated or enchanted in some way), sources which included multiple sect leaders (one of whom was WWX’s brother) and LXC’s dear friend, swore up and down that WWX was a major threat, and let’s face it, WWX didn’t do much to dissuade people from thinking that! Acting like the Lans were maliciously targeting WWX is doing them something of a disservice, I’d say. They acted based on the knowledge they had available; note how the Lans are the first to offer WWX their help once they’re given reason to believe he may not be a villain! And even aside from that, saying they killed WWX (and not JGS and JGY’s manipulation or JC’s army) feels a bit like scapegoating, honestly. Of the four sects, the Lans are quite possibly the least responsible for WWX’s death. If it would hurt him to live with or around anyone who held any responsibility for his death his only option would be to live as a hermit, which would be far worse for him. And yeah, the Lans aren’t perfectly righteous all the time and some morally dubious things have been done by Lan sect members; they’re human, after all! Some of them will only be as moral as their sect leader demands they be! That doesn’t mean the sect as a whole is bad, especially with LXC, LQR and LWJ in charge. Certainly I’d say they’re still better than the other sects, all things considered. One ambiguous situation that may or may not have involved some members of the previous generation doing some fucked up shit doesn’t mean WWX would for sure be mistreated! 

As for gossip... there’s a difference between sharing information and gossiping. There’s no evidence that the Lan women are blocked from... y’know, freely communicating and sharing information between themselves. We have no reason to believe they are reliant on gossip. Also they presumably go out night hunting just like the men? Men and women are kept separate in the Cloud Recesses, but I get the sense that that’s more like... school stuff than anything else. The women aren’t exactly locked up, they can be cultivators! The society is still sexist, but that doesn’t mean they’re kept from going out and doing things. And I need to make this clear: there is a fair chance that the rule against gossip saved LWJ’s life, because it kept word of him defending WWX from the sects from spreading to people who would not be willing to let bygones be bygones. Gossip sucks! It hurts people! A lot of this story (and more to the point the suffering of the characters within the story) happens because of gossip! The Lans banning gossip is pretty clearly supposed to be a good thing, I’d say.

And yeah, maybe after WWX killed a bunch of their sect the Lans wouldn’t accept him with open arms as if nothing ever happened! And that’s fair! I can’t imagine where WWX could go where that wouldn’t be the case, unless he and LWJ chose to abandon the cultivation world forever. But you know what else the Lans won’t do? Try to execute him. Or from what we see in the extras even dwell on the past that much. No, the Lans aren’t going to immediately forgive WWX and bring him into the fold without a moment’s hesitation, but you know what? They accept his marriage to LWJ! They let him supervise the juniors on night hunts! They consider him part of their sect! Honestly, that is all WWX can really ask and far more than he’d get from any other sect. There are consequences for what WWX did, even though he wasn’t the villain or necessarily trying to hurt anyone, and frankly people not being entirely comfortable with his presence is very much reasonable.

The “do not speak to WWX” rule may not be a joke, but it’s also pretty clearly not a serious rule. No one takes it seriously. The juniors (the only people WWX really talks to anyway aside from LXC and LWJ) only pay it the minimum lip service of talking to him off the path. WWX himself sure as hell doesn’t care! He clearly finds it pretty damn funny. And I don’t think a guy who has never liked him once again proving he does not like him (in a way that is clearly temporary given how later LQR invites WWX to the Lan family banquet with... reasonable amounts of grace, thereby implicitly accepting him as LWJ’s husband and therefore his own family by marriage) counts as a rejection or a breach of WWX’s trust? Like, LQR has literally always hated WWX. He isn’t preventing WWX and LWJ from spending time together or shutting WWX out of the Cloud Recesses or even making a concentrated effort to keep people from talking to him; he’s venting his frustrations, but if he really intended to block WWX from taking part in life in the Cloud Recesses he would’ve done a hell of a lot more than just make a rule who no one WWX likes follows anyway. It’s a temper tantrum, that’s all, and clearly that’s what WWX takes it as. I mean, if nothing else you can’t ban people from talking to the sect heir’s spouse indefinitely. That’s just not sustainable.

As for the rules... banning people from running in the Cloud Recesses and demanding proper posture during lessons doesn’t suggest to me that they wouldn’t allow stimming? ‘No running’ at least is a common rule... most places. It’s distracting, and can be dangerous. And the rule about sitting properly doesn’t mean “Don’t move at all ever”; it means... well, “sit properly”. Don’t slouch or sprawl across the floor. I see no reason why that wouldn’t preclude means of stimming that wouldn’t be disruptive (and given this is in a classroom environment “not disruptive” is kind of important). I mean, those rules certainly don’t suggest that they’re any worse than other sects, and given this is the sect that has magic music for calming people’s minds if any sect would give allowances for neurodivergence it would be this one. Also I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a song to put people to sleep, or medication that can help; this is a world with magic, after all, and if there’s a song that can put spirits to rest there are probably songs for human medicine and care. And of course there’s an element of conflicting needs; maybe the rules would screw you over, but frankly firmly enforced rules keeping people from running around or sprawling out of their seats would’ve been a godsend for me in school, given how much trouble I had focusing with people making noise around me. At the end of the day, is it guaranteed that the Lans would make allowances for people with needs that conflict with the Lan rules? No. But I’d argue it’s more likely that they would than any other sect. This is ahistorical fantasy ancient China, too; you can only expect so much in the mental health department. Still, a sect that literally invented magic music for calming the mind actually seems like the best choice for people with anxiety and such. There’s a reason why there are multiple fics that essentially set the Lans up as mental health experts in the setting!

Basically, a lot of your arguments seem to be issues that WWX would have in any sect. Unless he wanted to give up on the support of a sect altogether, they’re all things that he would have to work through or come to terms with. And of course... the most important point is that WWX is happy in the Lan sect. The extras make that clear. He has a home, duties that he enjoys performing, the love of his family and the support of his sect. He’s happy. I just... I do not understand why people keep feeling the need to try to make it angsty when the novel makes it clear that he genuinely enjoys his life in Gusu, and more than that that if he ever decided he didn’t enjoy it he could leave at any time. You have to remember that: if WWX wanted to leave... he would. He and LWJ would just go, and only come back occasionally so that LWJ could visit his home. Hell, LWJ would insist on leaving for WWX’s sake. So like... the Lan sect wouldn’t suit everyone, but WWX is quite content there and doesn’t want to leave. He’s happy and free to come and go as he wishes; there really isn’t anything to be concerned about there.

[thefreakydeaky]

Call Out My Name

Part Eight Title: The Town

Characters: Negan, Reader, A stupid little prick named Rick Grimes, Garbage pail kid Daryl Dixon, Tanya and Frankie.

Summary: You belonged to him.Try as you might to pretend indifference, Negan’s very presence has awakened feelings in you that you believed had died with the old world.Is the ruthless King of the Sanctuary still human enough to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, Canon Typical Negan BS, Canon Typical Violence, A bit of gore, Angst.

Word Count: 3000

With each step you took your stomach knotted tighter in dread of the big scary u.Dealing with the unknown had always been a problem for you. When something was unknown, you were stuck waiting around to find out and in that time you could not plan for it.Upon reaching the ground floor, you saw that all of the dock doors had been pulled down. Every exit locked and blocked.The hungry rasps of the dead filled you with dread.It sounded like you were surrounded. Your eyes darted nervously about the place, from the worn and teary faces of the scared inhabitants to the hard expressions worn by the invaders.

The pounding of heavy boot steps had you swiveling your head about to find the source.

“Don’t you think of tryin’ anything.” Darryl grated.

“Get down on your knees.” He ordered gruffly.

You and the other two girls knelt on the concrete floor, waiting.

You could hear someone approaching behind you.Your breathing quickened in horrible anticipation.

“Are these his...wives?” A deep voice, asked calmly. “Carl said there were five.”

“I looked all over. Found one dead and these three."

You closed your eyes, wondering briefly who it had been.Your stomach churned.You knew what would happen next.He would hit you.He would hit you and demand to know where Sherri and Amber were.You wouldn’t have an answer, except to say you hadn’t seen them in a couple of hours.

“We’re not here to hurt you.” The man’s gentle tone was reassuring. “We’re here to free you.”

“Where is number five?” He inquired.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the man, you couldn’t bare it.

Darryl put a hand on your shoulder and shoved you forward.

“Ask her.This one was leadin’ ‘em.”

A pair of worn leather work boots stopped in front of you.The man inhaled deeply as if to calm himself.

“Are you alright?”He seemed to actually mean it.

You clenched your jaw.

He reached out and brushed his knuckles along your cheek.

You stiffened, hardening your heart for what was to come.

He tipped your face up, his index finger just under your chin.

Your eyes met his clear blue gaze.

The gasp you emitted made Tanya and Frankie turn to look at you.

“Y/n?” He sounded as astonished as you felt, almost hoarse with the shock of this revelation.

His arms were around you and squeezing you in a warm embrace before you could fully process it.

“Oh,” He kissed the top of your head.“You’re alive!”A sigh of relief escaped his throat.

Your lower lip trembled, emotion overtaking you.

Home hadn’t come to mind in a long time.Hugging him, you were transported to a different stage of your life, a different society.

“She doesn’t understand.Much as I wanna be there,I have got to put work first.We talked about this when I joined the force.Lori agreed that she should stay home and take care of Carl, that I would provide for our family. These days, I cover a late shift for another officer, get home and she starts ripping me a new one. Says everytime I’m out late I been drinkin’ with Shane.She accuses me of any wrong thing a husband can do.You name it, according to Her, I’ve done it.”

You frowned a bit at that. Lori wasn’t the best person, but she certainly wasn’t the worst. Neither of you was really in a position to judge her. Not when you were sleeping with her husband.

“Well, I’m sorry that ya’ll are goin’ through a rough patch.”Your voice sounded dejected even to you.

He closed his eyes briefly, his expression contrite.

“I’m...I’m sorry.You shouldn’t have to hear all this.I don’t know what I was thinkin’.” He kissed the top of your head in apology.

You snuggled closer, your head on his bare chest and sighed.

“It’s okay with me for you to talk about your problems.Everybody needs to vent sometime.The thing is, I feel...bad.I feel like I’m part of the problem.”

“You’re not.” He said vehemently. “Lori started accusing me of havin’ an affair long before you and I ever...”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, his guilt wouldn’t allow it. That sat well with you. It was the least either of you could do.Admit that this temptation you’d both given into wasn’t right.

“How much do we owe you for watchin’ Carl?” He inquired with a softness in his tone that made you melt inside.

“I can’t charge you not when we’re sleeping together.It would feel like-like-“

“I get it.” He ran his hand along your side tenderly. “But I’m gonna have to pay you anyway.”

You winced.Of course he did. She would notice if suddenly there was an extra $80 bucks in their account every week. He could hide the money, save it and use it for something. but that would be one more lie he had to tell Lori. So you accepted the money and put it all in your savings account. Guilt kept you from spending it and as it turned out,you had needed that money to get yourself out of Kentucky.It had gotten you as far as Richmond,Virginia when all hell broke loose. It was there you met Charlie and the gang...

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He murmured into your hair.

Darryl cleared his throat. “Are you forgetting somethin’?”

Rick looked to him questioningly.

“She’s married to a sociopath!”

“She’s...a friend” He hedged. “I know her. She would never willingly have married a man like Negan."

“I don’t care if she’s your damn aunt fanny! Her husband murdered Glenn and Abraham!” He growled and spit at your feet.

You jerked back at the insult.

“You’re not the only one that’s lost people to The Saviors.” Your voice shook as you spoke.You couldn’t bring yourself to say that it was Negan who killed Charlie.Negan had done terrible things, but he also made you feel wonderful things, now was not the time to reconcile the two.

“He killed my best friend. My co-leader,Charlie.” You told them.”He forced me to become a wife. You gestured toward Tanya.

“Her mom was terminally sick.She was suffering. He offered to get her some morphine if Tanya would become his wife.”

Rick was listening with wrapped attention, compassion in his gaze.

“Frankie,” You nodded toward the redhead. Her green eyes begged you not to tell.

You took a breath.

“She was attacked by a group of cruel and violent men. Negan and The Saviors, rescued her.The price for his help was marriage.” You hoped Amber had gotten far far away from the Sanctuary.

If your words were revealed to be untrue, you might all be killed. You had no doubt this, Darryl guy would have you strung up in a heartbeat. Quiet followed the sad tale.

“I believe you.” Rick said calmly. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

Your eyes filled with tears.Not because you agreed with his insinuation that your marriage to Negan was a form of torture you had undergone, but for all else you had endured since leaving Kentucky.

Darryl huffed loudly.

“What are we gonna do with Negan?” He ground out.

“Now’s not the time or place to discuss this.” Rick inclined his head, peering at Darryl over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it once we get them to Alexandria.”

“Fine.” The man responded.Though it didn’t sound as if he were fine with Rick’s decision at all.

Once we get them to Alexandria. He’d said.

Your heart leapt at the possibility that Rick’s them included Negan.

During the three month deliberation of Negan’s sentence, Hilltop’s Doctor Carson had informed you that your dizzy spells and drowsiness were actually pregnancy.You were elated at first, then heartbroken when you realized there was a huge chance your child would never meet it’s father.

It took pride shriveling amounts of begging and sweet talking your ex-boyfriend to get him on your side to save Negan’s life.Rick turned the majority of the council in your favor.Their final decision was that Negan would live.Your relief at hearing this was immense until you were told the terms on which his execution had been stayed.You would be delivering his sentence.

The rustling sound of soft soles walking across the dirty concrete floor reached Negan long before your tear stained face came into focus in the dim light.

“Negan.”

He kept his face blank.

“Y/n.” His voice sounded raspier to you than usual.

Your eyes scanned over him in the dark and caught on the white bandage set across his throat.

“I’m here to-“

“Do I look like I give a shit?” He glared over your shoulder at Darryl.”You people are ridiculous.Five women to choose from and you send the one I regret ever setting eyes on.Nice.”

You glanced over at Darryl.He looked supremely unimpressed.

“That isn’t true and you know it.” You wet your lips with your tongue.

“You get the fuck away from me right fucking now.”

You took a shaking breath and tried to hold back the tears.A sobbing emotional mess was the last thing either of you needed at the moment.

You held your wrists up where he could see the restraints the council demanded you wear at all times.

You felt sorry for him.This was going to hurt both of you immensely, but if you didn’t do as you’d been asked, he would be getting a hell of a lot worse than a life sentence.

He turned away from you, unable to bear the sight.

“You’re wasting your fucking time.I am not fucking talking to you.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just listen.” You inhaled slowly and held it, to steady yourself for the pain to come.

“I’m not married to you.I wasn’t ever married to you.You manipulated, scared, and threatened me into submitting to you.”

He stiffened.

“You are a power hungry, sociopath who took advantage of my weakness and the weaknesses of many others-“

“Weakness? You?” He scoffed.

“-you brain washed us like some kinda deranged cult leader.I don’t love you.I never loved you and neither did any of the other wives.”You spat the word at him.

He laughed bitterly.

“I did what had to be done to keep all of you alive, if that makes me the fucking bad guy then fuck it.”

“Don’t you dare laugh!”You cried glaring at his back. "Do you have any idea how many people had to die because of you?Do you have any remorse for the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve taken?”

He turned to look at you then. From Negan’s surprised expression, the tears streaming down your face must really be selling it.

“You know I don’t.”He frowned, uncertainty in his tone.

“I hate you!”

“Hate me? For what?” He huffed.

“For everything you took from me! For everything you did to me!”

“You sure seemed to like what I did to you. Used to beg me to keep doing those things to you...But don’t you worry, Baby. I’m sure you’ll be getting your retribution soon enough.”

He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

You sniffed, choked down a sob and prepared for the grand finally.You stepped right up to the bars.Eyeing you wearily, he moved slowly towards you.

“Kiss me.” Your voice was a low whisper.

The reluctance in his gold flecked eyes unsettled you, made what was to come that much harder.

He leaned in and through the bars pressed his dry lips to yours. He closed his eyes, reveling in your proximity, the familiar intoxicating taste of you.You fought to keep still, to appear unaffected. It took him longer to realize that you weren’t participating, than you thought it would.

He pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Y/n.” He declared, breathing harshly. “Don’t you forget it.”

You raised one eyebrow attempting to seem aloof.

“You have been sentenced to life imprisonment.You’ll have all the time in the world to reflect on the atrocities you committed.It’s a fitting punishment for what you’ve done. Wouldn’t you say?"

He smiled sadly.

“I would much rather die, but they know that, don’t they?”

“Mhmm..”

He held you as best he could.

“They don’t have any mercy to spare where I’m concerned...Why’d they send you to tell me?”He wondered out loud.

You pulled away, taking a few steps backwards, so he could see you fully.You placed your hands on your stomach in that soft maternal way, the sick fucks had told you to do.

His face fell.

“I’m expecting.”

“No, no no no no.”

“Oh yes...but don’t worry.My baby will have a father.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Do you remember those little chats we used to have?”

He nodded, hanging on your every word.

“I told you about the man I was seeing, the cop with the bright blue eyes...”

Negan shook his head in denial.

“Fate has brought him back into my life. Can you believe that? I mean what were the chances, that the man to take you down, would be the only man that I have ever loved, Rick Grimes?”

Negan dropped to his knees. His eyes were wide pools of vulnerability.

“Have a nice life. I know I will.” You turned away.

Darryl gave you a begrudging nod of approval on your way out.

You’d never hated yourself as much as you did in that moment.

[d-p-f-m]

Obey me: Asmodeus x fem!MC | Imagine

Genre: Fluff, (slight) Angst

Trigger warning: mentions of minor character death/suicide

Word count: 1820

Author's note:

I don't even write for Obey me or anything otome related at the moment, but I just had to get this idea out of my system so I can sleep peacefully and thought I'd share it here, because there's not nearly enough Asmo content out there and some of my fellow Asmodeus stans might appreciate it. This man deserves more love!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!💞

♠️♥️♣️♦️♠️♥️♣️♦️♠️♥️♣️♦️

▪Imagine a universe where it's canon that every brother owns a ring with their sin's symbol engraved in it, but Asmo's ring has been missing for a very long time without anyone knowing what happened with it because he never gives a straight answer when confronted about it

▪when MC first arrives in devildom for the exchange program, she wears the ring on a necklace around her neck, seeing as it was passed down from mother to daughter as her family's heirloom through generations

▪with six of the brothers owning a similar ring to hers, it doesn't take her very long to put two and two together. Although, once she finds out it's in fact Asmo's ring, she doesn't tell him right away, because he's not particulary responsive as she subtly questions him about the whereabouts of his ring and she's scared of the real reason why it could be in her possession

▪Maybe one of her ancestors stole it from him? Maybe it's a sign to signal that her bloodline is indepted to the avatar of lust due to some deal someone made with him eons ago? Honestly, it could have so many reasons and a lot of them make her worry that it would have negative consequences for her, if anyone found out

▪Asmo simply tells her, that he lost the ring to a woman who died before he could take it back from her and for some reason, his words make her think of the recurring nightmare that would often cause her to startle awake growing up. Anxiously, MC asks him if the woman drowned before she can think better of it

▪eyeing her warily, he confirms her suspicion, asking her how she could have randomly guessed it right. Although, unable to grasp the weird feeling that overcame her while talking about the long deceased woman, she just brushes it off as a strange coincidence

▪she starts to wear the ring less while she's around Asmo, to hide it from him until she knows she can fully trust the demon brothers

▪one time, as she stays over at his room for a sleep-over, he almost gets a glimpse at it when it slips out from the collar of her loose pajama shirt and she doesn't want to risk him seeing it again. Because for all she knows, he could get mad at her for having it. Even though she can't really understand why she has it herself

▪over time, MC and Asmo gradually grow closer

▪they don't have any kind of sexual relationship, because MC wants to genuinely love and be loved by someone before giving all of herself to them

▪while Asmo respects her decision, it obviously doesn't stop him from playfully flirting with her and due to both their affectionate natures, they develop a close friendship that involves constant casual touches and cuddling

▪every time Asmo does try to initiate anything sexual between them out of habit -since it's the only outcome people usually seek from interactions with the avatar of lust and he's not used to someone actually enjoying his company for just his company alone- MC stops him gently and tells him she'd much rather just cuddle or spend time with him in general

▪Asmo appreciates and looks forward to their shared quality time a lot and he slowly starts to accept the fact that, yes, MC's not out there to use him in any way but instead actually cares for him and his feelings

▪it shows in little, almost insignificant gestures. Like her going out of her way to do favors for him, or how she always asks if he's comfortable with the smallest of things, or even how she makes sure to get his opinion on matters where people would usually just assume they know what he thinks, according to his sin and self-imposed image

▪from time to time he even prioritizes MC's innocent, loving touches over the pleasure his usual hook-ups could bring, staying in and spending his nights cuddled up to her instead of going out to party more often than not as the months pass by

▪without neither of them really acknowledging it, they both develop deeper, romantic feelings for each other over the course of the exchange period

▪one day, as MC cleans her room, (that Mammon wrecked while searching for something to sell lol), she realizes the small casket with Asmo's ring is missing from where she had put it and she immediately rushes after the second-born, who had just left her bedroom before she came in, in case he took it. As it turns out, he did

▪when Mammon realizes how important the casket is to her, he remorsefully gives it back and she returns to her room to hide it again but just as she's about to put it away, Asmo comes strolling in

▪seeing the fancy box, he grabs it from her to take a look inside out of curiosity and when he recognizes his ring, he freezes

▪feeling guilty about keeping the ring a secret for so long, MC calmly asks Asmo to let her explain

▪she tells him that her mother gave it to her once she had turned sixteen, but she hadn't been able to teach MC anything about its origins besides that it had been passed down between family members for centuries

▪after listening to her, Asmodeus grows quiet for a while, before finally opening up a little about how he lost the ring

▪a few millennia prior to the present events with MC, while Diavolo's father was still actively ruling and it was allowed for higher-ranking demons to freely roam between the human realm and devildom, Asmo would often times visit the humans to play with people's hearts and desires

▪one day, as he was passing through a small village, he met a young woman who didn't succumb to his charms

▪she was nice and courteous towards him while they interacted, but his powers never had any actual effect and determined to defile her someday, he payed the village more visits any chance he got

▪seeing as it was one of the rare times during the day where he would get her alone, he would often join her as she spent her evenings sitting at her favorite place on the edge of a cliff, located just outside the village

▪while he tried to find a way to get the frustratingly untainted woman to give in to her deepest desires, they would talk about anything that came to their minds and over time, Asmodeus had to admit he quite enjoyed her presence

▪slowly but surely, he came to care for her once he realized that she genuinely cared for him and even though he never admitted it out loud, her friendship was something he secretly cherished

▪as they were sitting side by side one night, like many times before, the woman suddenly admitted to him that she always feared he would stop visiting her someday. That he would find someone who was willing to indulge in him in more ways than she could allow herself to and that he would eventually get tired of her company

▪while she didn't know about his true demonic nature, she had always been aware that he wasn't exactly human per se and it was only natural for her to believe that he was simply playing with her to fight the boredom that overcame him occasionally. Which, initially, had been true

▪that's when he decided to give her his ring.

▪uncharacteristically keen to reassure her he would keep visiting, unless she told him to stop, he slid the ring from his finger and onto hers instead, telling her to guard it until he'd demand it back one day

▪from this day on, she would often times invite him into her home to talk in the comfort of her bedroom instead of at the cliff and Asmodeus would rest his head in her lap while she went on about a new topic every time, gently caressing his hair or playing with the fabric of his clothes in the process

▪when she told him one night, that her father was in desperate need for money and therefore planned to marry her off to a wealthy merchant with a reputation to be cruel and violent towards women, Asmo felt a strange and long forgotten urge to protect her

▪the last person that had made him feel this way was Lilith and without really thinking it through, he offered to take her away with him

▪although, she declined his offer with a mournful smile, explaining how, even though she cared for Asmodeus deeply and wanted nothing more than to stay with him, she could never live with herself if she left her family behind for her own benefit and that she still had time to convince her father to drop his idea, before the merchant would come to take her with him

▪Asmo didn't want to upset her, by ignoring her wishes and taking her away by force, so he reluctantly accepted her decision, thinking he still had time to convince her to run away, but when he came by to check on her a few days later, she was nowhere to be found

▪it turned out she had committed suicide by jumping off the cliff and drowning herself, the morning after Asmodeus had last visited her

▪he always thought that his ring had been buried with her (let's just pretend she had a proper burial, even though at that time, suicide was probably considered a sin and not excepted by society. Maybe her family buried her in secret) and that's why he never found it, when in reality, her brother had taken it, to later give it to his own daughter in memory of his lost sister

▪after Asmo finishes with the story behind his ring's disappearance, MC quickly realizes that she has to be a descendant of the woman's bloodline (which is also Lilith's human bloodline, hence why both of them are immune to Asmo's powers)

▪she attempts to give the ring back to him, because, surely, that's what both the woman and Asmo would want. But he stops her and puts the necklace the ring is attached to around her neck, before explaining that he wants her to keep it, since his promise to someday return to claim it back still stands and he doesn't plan on leaving MC's side any time soon, anyway

▪if anything, MC finding her way to him after so many centuries just means their encounter was predetermined all along and he made the right choice by entrusting his ring to her ancestor all those years ago

▪(maybe he even thinks that him finding genuine love for the first time with MC was fate as well, but he'll have a lot of time to entertain this line thought in the future.)

🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂🦂

Additional note:

Damn, I want to see a full version of this, but with life butting in every 5 seconds, I don't really have the time or energy for it. So, if there's a talented writer out there who loves this idea as much as I do and wants to turn it into an endlessly ongoing, multi-chaptered slow burn, pls (PLS!!!) do and mention me in your post, so I can read it!! I could really need this story right now.

Alright, Imma go to sleep now. Bye guys🔥

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[bemused-writer]

VNC Chapter 46 Analysis

Mochizuki's ability to pack so much into a singular chapter is truly a gift. In this chapter we get a lot of Dominique's POV, which was awesome, but pretty dreary. However, I don't think any of us can blame her; she once told Noé she worried about him blaming himself for what happened to Louis, but she never mentioned how much she is still bearing a great burden from the very same incident.

There's a lot to unpack in this sentence alone, but it reveals a lot about Dominique's mindset. In past chapters, we've already seen that she harbors a great deal of self-doubt; she isn't living up to her family's expectations and she's convinced the man she loves would prefer a different kind of woman, i.e. someone more like Jeanne. However, we see here that her self-doubt is actually better characterized as self-loathing. She doesn't consider herself suitable for Noé whatsoever. So, what is it that she thinks Louis has that she doesn't? She's gone to a lot of trouble to imitate him, after all. I think we can break her perceived failings into the following: 1) She can't be with Noé 24/7. I think a large part of why she thinks Louis would have been a better partner for Noé than herself is because they already lived together. He could have traveled with Noé to Paris, lived with him there, helped him handle Vanitas, Murr, and even Teacher. Basically, she assumes Louis would be ever present at Noé's side in a way she cannot. 2) An outgoing nature/ease of communication. Dominique believes that Noé had an easier time talking to Louis than he does with her. She saw Louis as smart and capable rather than meek and timid. What she doesn't realize is that Noé and Louis actually had a ton of communication problems and that Louis was incredibly withdrawn. I suppose that's the kind of misconstrued takeaway one has when dealing with someone they idolize and another they're crushing on. She doesn't have the clearest sense of their flaws. (Side note: I think it's kind of amusing that she just assumes Louis would be shorter than Noé. I mean, he was taller than him at the time...) So, even before Louis's death Dominique was dealing with some pretty heavy self-esteem issues, but we really see just how far they've developed over the years. The days following his death seem to really have taken a final toll:

Now, this is something I've wondered about for a while, but it's sad to have it confirmed. As I mentioned, Dominique was worried Noé blamed himself, but the truth of it is Dominique blames herself for Louis's death. The reason she's worried about Noé is because she sincerely believes that the only person worthy of this blame is herself. She thinks that if she had simply kept quiet, Louis would still be alive. Judging by how timid Dominique still is at home, I think this philosophy has followed her for her whole life: stay quiet and out of the way and things will be fine. It's completely different from how she is around Noé, but that's because she is trying to put on a persona she thinks Noé would prefer over her actual personality, i.e. Louis's personality. Of course, Noé cares about Dominique because she's one of his best friends; she doesn't need to do this to herself, but she doesn't realize that. She's fixated on this idea of adjusting herself until Noé sees her in the right light and her family accepts her. Unfortunately, we're dealing with a trio whose communication skills are epically bad. Louis asks Dominique to give Noé the chest "when the time is right." How is she supposed to know when that is? And how could he actually expect Noé to put those stakes to use? But the thing is that none of these characters are thinking clearly. Louis was a young person stuck on the idea that he was cursed and going to die. He refused to talk about it to his friends because, well, what could they do about it? Dominique is ridden with insecurities and couldn't be expected to handle the responsibility Louis gave her, and Noé cared far too much about Louis to fulfill his wish. The only person who could have stepped in and sorted any of this out was Teacher, but he's the one who allowed all of it to happen in the first place. So, Dominique does the only thing she can think to do at the time: stay at Noé's side.

Dominique is terrified here; I really think this might be the first time she's ever stood up to Veronica and it's only because of how urgent things are. We've seen in the present that Veronica has absolutely no qualms going toe-to-toe with her own sister or with publicly shaming her in front of the entire vampiric court. This is not a kind woman. And we see that she was no better in the past. Dominique is frightened of her, and then Veronica gives all of her fears and anxieties the final push they need to plague her for the rest of her life. She takes malignant glee at how her sister has been left in the dark (as if this is Dominique's fault; maybe her family should actually try telling her things...), mocks her, and then reveals her birth itself was a shame on the family.

Cruel though this is, it does remind me of a question I've had for a little while now: how do vampires procreate exactly? Apparently, they have to give birth on a full moon, which is already pretty different from their human counterparts. Now we hear that twins are unlucky because they "steal more life." What, exactly, does that mean? I suspect it doesn't simply imply that it makes the pregnancy more strenuous. Could it be that vampires have to very literally give up some of their lifespan to create offspring? Do they have to perform some kind of sacrifice? But it can't be wholly different from humans; otherwise we wouldn't have dhampirs. Well, we'll undoubtedly learn more about that at some point, but it is an interesting concept. Anyway, Dominique asks Veronica why her parents chose her over Louis. I mean, it's a valid question and it's a moment Veronica could have used to compliment her sister, or possibly console her in some way, so naturally she does the opposite. She basically says it was a whim of their father's. Now, I'm not totally sure I believe that. I had believed Louis was taken away because he was a curse bearer, but Veronica is making it sound like the problem was simply that he was a twin. If what Veronica says is true, that means Louis became a curse bearer after the fact and I think I have a sneaking suspicion of how. Teacher said it would be a waste to simply kill one of the babies and let's not kid ourselves by thinking he had purely good intentions here. He told Louis he wanted to see what choices he made. Well, for an experiment to work, you have to actually have some variable you're testing. I think Teacher (who probably has some connection to Charlatan) cursed Louis himself, perhaps to see how long he would last under those kinds of conditions and how he would try to change his fate. Also, I think it's important to point out that Veronica said "If news that your mother had given birth to twins had gotten out, it would have tarnished the name of de Sade." That pretty heavily implies that Veronica and Dominique do not have the same mother, which would make sense. It also raises yet another question of how vampiric society handles things like marriage. To me, it sounds like their father is the head of de Sade second only to Teacher. Does he have multiple wives? Concubines? If women have to give some of their life to have children, it might make sense not to have too many children with one woman, and if the aristocracy is determined to expand the family name, the easiest way of doing that would be by having several children. The de Sades are clearly concerned with preserving the family name and with having enough heirs to handle... I'm not sure. Antoine seems to be in charge of diplomacy, Veronica is a Beastia, and Dominique... What is it that she's supposed to be doing? What is it that they think she's failing at so badly? After Veronica's big reveal, Dominique wonders if Louis knew the truth and to be honest, I don't know if he was ever told, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was. Teacher wasn't exactly gentle with him and I'm sure he would be curious to see how he handled the knowledge that Dominique was very literally chosen over him. She is his twin sister and she can never know. By all accounts, Louis would have been justified in being cruel to her, but he never was; he was always kind and patient, and I think that says more about Louis than anything else ever will. If he hadn't undergone the horrors Teacher chose for him, he probably would have been a much more carefree person.

This scene is just sad on so many levels. Veronica didn't have to plant the seed of doubt in Dominique's mind that Louis would have been a better heir than her. She didn't have to make her wonder if Louis was simply a better candidate for everything she's ever wanted: better at being a de Sade, better for Noé, better for everyone. And poor Noé has no idea he accidentally fed into this. He was just as traumatized as Dominique and, well, she does look a lot like Louis. Who could blame him for mistaking them when he has a raging fever and is in mourning? But the damage is done. Dominique is convinced that Noé would have preferred Louis over her, and this has no doubt fed into her misery over her unrequited love for him as well. Perhaps, on some level, she believes that if she had been Louis, Noé would love her already. Also, this means that Vanitas's jab in volume two is all the more hurtful:

This always read to me as Vanitas saying Dominique was just a stand in for what Noé really wants and while it is true that Noé has thought of Louis on occasion when he's with Dominique, I don't think it's fair to say he wishes she were him. They're twins and they were both Noé's childhood friends. It would be normal for him to miss Louis in such a scenario. But Vanitas is very good at hitting where it hurts and he did so very well with Dominique. If there's one good thing that could come of this arc, I hope it's that Dominique realizes how much Noé cares about her. He goes to her rescue immediately:

We only see Noé get this serious when it has to do with Dominique or Louis. These are the two people he cares for most; he's not messing around when it comes to her rescue. Also, I really like that he doesn't bother with negotiating or any of that. He goes straight to the fighting and it's great; negotiation isn't going to work with this kid. With anyone else, this would be a great tactic, but Misha has a book and is willing to fight dirty. I really feel like this is going to turn into one of those: "If you'd just told me this in advance things could have been different!" moments that Noé and Vanitas have had in the past.

The text bubble really makes it look like Vanitas is just shouting this in the middle of the restaurant. I find that amusing, but wouldn't it make more sense to be thinking this...? XD But! Everyone is piecing things together way faster this arc and that is kind of a relief. Vanitas isn't going to be taken off guard by Noé acting strangely; he knows exactly what kind of damage Misha can do. Furthermore, Noé swiftly puts it together that Misha has done something to Dominique's name. If nothing else, at least everyone is in the know on how bad things are. 8D At any rate, Noé's attacks swiftly come to a halt when Misha uses the book on him. The technique is the same that Vanitas used on him during the Bal Masqué. It seems to primarily function as a stun, but it looks like Misha's was designed to pack a heavier punch because Noé can't move at all while he was able to somewhat when Vanitas used it. Of course, the main difference is that Vanitas didn't want to do permanent damage to Noé; he just needed to prevent him from hindering his job. Misha on the other hand has no qualms about killing a woman, so he definitely wouldn't be opposed to wreaking more havoc still on yet another individual. It's interesting that last chapter we got to see Noé tell Vanitas he's glad he's the person he is now because he's now getting a very fast intro into just how awful Vanitas could have been if he'd been inclined to. These books have the power to seal a vampire's fate, for better or worse. Misha has chosen for the worse.

"Only this book." I suppose that means he didn't inherit the name "Vanitas." (Did Vanitas really inherit it or did he just steal it?) It could also be a way of emphasizing he wasn't given Vanitas's book; just this one.

Amazing how at the end of their introductions, Vanitas is the one who looks decidedly mad, but it's Misha who is infinitely crazier. I guess first impressions aren't everything. 8D

Okay, he says he's kidding, but the only thing he could possibly be joking about is that he's an "average human being," which, let's be honest, sounded a lot like a lie when Vanitas said it, too. I don't think either of them are "average" human beings. Something about being kin to the blue moon changed them and I think we're eventually going to learn more about what and how.

Okay, so here's the thing. Misha may be "evil" but he's not an evil genius. There have been flaws in his plan from the get go, notably that he thought he could fully control Dominique to do anything that would put Noé in danger because I'm pretty sure his original plan went something like this: Dominique asks Noé to follow her. She leads him to Misha. Noé and Misha sit down for a chat. Noé agrees to drink Vanitas's blood and comes back with info. Only, that isn't how it went and it's unlikely this backup plan will work either. Misha is making a lot of assumptions here: 1) Noé has no qualms about drinking Vanitas's blood (as, perhaps, most vampires wouldn't), 2) Threatening Dominique won't lead to massive repercussions, 3) Vanitas himself won't be involved to mess this plan up, 4) Noé is actually capable enough as an Archiviste to locate specific information. Well, none of that is true. Noé has massive reservations about drinking Vanitas's blood, he absolutely will not forgive this kid for threatening Dominique, Vanitas is probably already on his way, and Noé is more likely to lose himself in Vanitas's memories and wind up traumatized than come back with any useful information. 8D I mean, maybe Noé does drink Vanitas's blood because I do believe he'd do just about anything to save Dominique, but I think it's more likely that Vanitas himself will show up and put a wrench in this entire affair. I guess we're going to find out the answer to that pretty swiftly with the next chapter. Anyway, I'm going to toss in a few predictions for this arc and see if any of them stick: Noé and Vanitas actually have to tell each other some of their dark backstories (in other words, Vanitas has to explain who "Father" is and Noé has to explain Louis), Noé doesn't drink Vanitas's blood, Dominique is lost to Noé, but not because she dies. Rather, I think it's more likely these two are going to have a whole lot of revelations about each other and the sheer awkward factor/shame will cause them to need time apart.

[idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf]

Amity absolutely in not going to choose the Emperor’s Coven over Luz.

 I keep seeing it suggested that Amity’s ties to the Emperor’s Coven could become an issue. That she may decide supporting Luz isn’t as important as her ambitions related to the Coven. That she might chose to side with the Emperor’s Coven, causing a rift between her and Luz. However I don’t believe that for a second, and that’s for two reasons.

1.) Luz is, as of right now, the most important thing to Amity. It's always felt to me like Amity already chose Luz over everything else. Amity has sacrificed her own physical wellbeing, even putting her own life in danger, to help Luz in the past. There's no way Amity's parents approve of Luz so she's put her relationship with her parents, something she's worked desperately for, at risk just by liking Luz, but she continues to be around her. Amity was willing to throw out her social group for hurting Luz. Why wouldn't she follow the pattern and pick Luz over the Emperor's coven too? And I mean..she must know she'll have to. Amity knows that Luz is Eda's apprentice. She knows that Eda is wanted by the Emperor's Coven. She's gotta know that she'll have to pick between the two things eventually, right? And if her plan wasn't to eventually pick Luz when she had to make the choice, why would she have put Luz before her own physical wellbeing, before her social status, and before her abusive parents' wishes? Not to mention , Amity's greatest fear was being rejected by Luz. It wasn't her abusive family. It wasn't being denied by the Emperor's Coven. It was the idea that she could lose Luz. Which makes it pretty cut and dry what the most important thing to Amity is in the end. Amity has already been willing to put so much on the line for Luz. I feel like she isn't going to stop now. Especially since, tbh, it seems like Amity has never been happier than she is currently. Realistically if you were a normal person with a good strong support system and a healthy conviction to follow your dreams then you wouldn't be willing to risk your life and dream job for another person. However Amity isn't a very healthy person. Her family is abusive, her friends are cruel, etc. Amity made their goals for her into her own goals because she didn't feel like there was anything else out there for her, not becsuse she personally wants it. She wasn't happy. Until Luz was kind and optimistic and showed her the potential that there are good people out there. I mean, why do you think she latched onto Luz so quickly and has put her physical wellbeing, social status, and relationship with her family in jeopardy just through having feelings for Luz and standing by her so far? She's willing to do that because Luz is one of if not the only person in her life that isn't abusing her to some extent. She isn't going to act like a normal person with a good support system and healthy ambitions they care about because Amity isn't any of those things and right now Luz means so so so much to her by proxy of being the only person in her life who's good. I don't think she'd give that up for anything, speaking both from personal experience and from the behavior ive seen her exhibit as of late and how much she's already risked.

and

2.)  Siding with the Emperor’s Coven would go against Amity’s strong sense of morality. Amity has been an incredible human being for her entire life. Every flashback we've seen of Amity has shown her as nothing but a good person. She was wrong to treat Willow the way she did, sure, but Amity did it all in an attempt to protect Willow and in the end how could anyone hate her for that? When she was told to befriend Boscha, Amity immediately refused, acknowledging that the other girl was mean, and for as long as the two were friends she never seemed to warm up to the cruel girl. When Amity accidentally got her Grudby teammates hurt she felt so horribly guilty that she quit playing forever. She's made mistakes cause she's a human being and people mess up sometimes, but I honestly think Amity has always been an admirable person. Why on earth would Amity ever support the Emperor’s Coven when she finds out what horrible things they’ve done? And some people suggest that while she’s not a bad person, her ambitions may make her do bad things. But Amity’s integrity has always come before her ambition. That much is made exceptionally clear back in Covention. Amity wasn’t willing to cheat in their magic duel. She refused to lie or cheat and that means that if Luz had really been better than her and won fairly, Amity would have taken the loss. She easily could have cheated. Everyone else did, it wouldn’t have been hard for Amity to do the same. But she didn’t, and she was extraordinarily upset that the other people involved did. Amity was horrified that Lilith cheated in her favor. Even if it helped her look good in front of the Emperor’s Coven, cheating was never even an option that crossed Amity’s mind and she was completed mortified that Lilith tricked her into it anyway. Her ambition was never as strong as her integrity back then, so why would it suddenly overwhelm her morals now? I mean, if cheating in a competition was a disgusting thought that she never considered for a second. Something that Amity screamed at Luz for doing and was completely ashamed when Lilith did it. Then how can anyone expect that Amity would support the Emperor’s Coven after all they’ve done? Even with all the pressure Amity’s under from society in general and her abusive parents, she hasn’t sacrificed her morals yet, and to suggest she might now is to completely disregard the strength of character she’s been shown to possess so far.

“But Wait!” I hear you say, “A clear parallel was drawn between the relationship of  Luz and Amity vs  the relationship of Eda and Lilith! That means Luz and Amity was likely to go down the same route and become enemies!”

And you are correct that there was a clear parallel drawn between these four in Covention. However i’d venture to suggest that this parallel will be used as a contrast rather than to show history repeating itself.

I’ll start by saying that I personally believe the “history repeats itself” trope is very hard to get right and is only really effective in certain situations, this not being one of them. Tell me, what, narritively, would be the positive effect of pushing Amity and Luz down the same route Lilith and Eda went down? I can’t see any good reason for it except the ~shock value~, and honestly anything you do with a character exclusively to shock or upset the audience rather than to develop the characters in their natural progression is a bad choice by default. There’s no reason Luz and Amity need to be like Eda and Lilith. And in fact, not only is the idea of their relationship being a foil the the Clawthorne sister’s relationship more interesting to me because it has an actual purpose (to show that the sister’s both screwed up their relationship and that if you communicate and try to be good people then you won’t end up in a fight to the death against someone you’re supposed to love and that both sister’s could have made steps to be better siblings but they didn’t and that’s on them), but it also seems to fit a lot more cohesively into the narrative knowing what we do about both the relationship between Lilith and Eda and the relationship between Amity and Luz.

I get the feeling Lilith was always jealous of Eda. That Eda was stronger. That Eda outshone her. It may not even have been fair a lot of the time, after all, Eda is known to cheat her way through things. And it also seems as if Eda, instead of supporting and reassuring her insecure sister, was proud of this and held it against Lilith that she was better. Well, when Luz and Amity first met, Luz outshone Amity too. Amity was angry and bitter and disliked Luz because it fucking hurt to have her achievements taken away from her unfairly. They easily could have gone down the same route Lilith and Eda did. With Luz sticking to her guns and insisting she was better, that she deserved the recognition more anyway and Amity acting like a jealous, vindictive child. But that didn’t happen. Luz tried her best to make it up to Amity and Amity, once Luz expressed her remorse and took steps to make amends, not only accepted it but reflected on her own behavior and admitted she herself could have been better too. How did Amity and Luz manage to overcome a conflict that’s still tearing two grown women apart?  By overall being better than Eda and Lilith were. Luz felt terrible for hurting Amity. Eda was proud of outshining Lilith. Amity didn't let herself be overcome with bitterness or jealousy and instead reflected inwardly on how she could have been better too. Lilith just kept getting worse and worse and straying from the path of morality more and more. We can see it clearly in Covention. Lilith cheated. Amity on the other hand would never stray from her integrity even if she wanted to win and was mortified to find out what happened. Eda bragged and taunted and teased Lilith for cheating. Luz ran after Amity to comfort her. Overall Amity and Luz are better than Lilith and Eda and that's why I don't see them making the same mistakes.  Another difference I see, Lilith let her desperation for power make her a bad person. Amity realized she was being colder than she'd like to and instantly ditched her cruel friends and tried to he better. Eda let's her wild nature make her inconsiderate (she's not just a criminal for not joining a coven, she does actual morally wrong crimes too) but Luz tries her best to be kind and to make people happy and he selfless in general. As I said before, they're both better than their mentors. Both Eda and Lilith made mistakes that lead them to where they are (although Lilith is objectively the worse of the two, she isn't necessarily the only one to blame for their relationship failing). Because Luz and Amity are a contrast to Eda and Lilith, not a repition of their story. Luz and Amity show what can happen when you communicate and try to understand and empathize with people and don't stray from your own morals no matter what other people may do to you.That's something it doesn't seem like the sister's ever learned how to do, and that's what tore them apart. But it's something Luz and Amity exhibit consistently. Communication, mercy, understanding. and that's why they aren't doomed to be like their mentors. Because as I said before, they contrast Lilith and Eda's dynamic in every way simply by being better friends to each other and people in general.   

[crimsonrae]

The Wiles of Men and Women

Chapter Three

Summary: Georgiana Stafford has just become betrothed to a man older than her father. Her last chance to enjoy society on her terms comes the night that court celebrates the birth of Princess Mary. She was prepared for just about anything, but she hadn't been prepared for him. Charles Brandon.

CharlesxOC,

Rated: NC-17

Warning there is Smut in this chapter.

A/N:  Here is Chapter Three. Thank you to everyone who liked and showed support on those first two chapters. I really appreciate it :) Let me know if you would like to be tagged.

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @cavillhavoc​ @omgkatinka​ @promptandpros​ @multixwolf​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @vikingsbifrost​ @marswritings​ @imneonpanda​

Ribbons & Linen

“Katerina, have you seen my green ribbon?” Georgiana frowned as she picked through her belongings on the vanity. She swore she just had the blasted thing in her hand, “I wanted to dress my hair with it.” 

The older woman looked up from folding the strewn garments of Georgiana’s trunk with a cursory glance before shaking her head, “No, milady. What shade of green is it?” 

Georgiana blinked and shrugged, “It was a dark green... Oh, it’s no matter. I don’t know why I’m trying so hard to look nice anyway.” 

The maid suppressed an amused smirk. She knew well why her current mistress was fussing with her appearance. Georgiana had disclosed a good deal of her night of revelry to Katerina and she was hoping to gain the attention of her recent dalliance. Katerina had to give the young girl credit – she had done well to conceal her identity. Most didn’t realize the danger of rumors in court, no matter how true or false those rumors be, and for a woman, there was no more harmful a reputation than one of loose morals. Yet, Georgiana’s moment of wisdom seemed to be dissipating as she unwittingly caved into the desirous fantasies that were only home to young women. 

“Perhaps to capture the attention of a certain blue-eyed devil, milady.” Katerina uttered coyly and felt her lips twitch as Georgiana flushed faintly. 

“Don’t be foolish. I’ve had my fun and he had his. I must find other games to play now.” Georgiana said stoutly and by the miserable glint in her icy bluish-green eyes, Katerina knew she thought of her intended. 

“Milady, there’s hardly any harm in a little flirting.” Katerina stated softly, she liked Georgiana. The girl was a little spoiled, but she didn’t put on airs like many of the ladies of court... she seemed lonely and Katerina feared this marriage to Lord Somerset would only make her bitter, “Even if it’s not with your blue-eyed devil... there’s still many that could fit the bill here.” 

Georgiana frowned and resisted the urge to shrug again.  

Flirting had been easy when she had a masked tied to her face. If she had been foolish, who would know? She hadn’t had the chance to become familiar with anyone yet... Now, with her introduction and subsequent engagement she had become more of a curiosity than she had anticipated. She blamed her Aunt Eleanor. The old witch had to implant the seeds of Georgiana’s good reputation with every woman of power in these forsaken walls. She had hoped to remain relatively unknown during this excursion. Anonymity made getting away with unladylike behavior far easier, but the Duchess of Buckingham was wise to her niece’s wild ways and had torn that protective shroud from her. She was liable to stutter her way through a conversation now, much less flirt. 

If anything, her aunt’s machinations had made Georgina even more grateful for her night of revelry – such actions would be impossible to get away with now. And as for Charles Brandon.... 

Well, she had no business to be mingling with a courtier, no matter how close to the king he seemed. Though, that hadn’t stopped her heart from lurching at the sight of him. It had been slightly painful when he had only regarded her with mild curiosity the night after their parting, but not unsurprising. 

What had surprised her was her desire to be recognized. It was a desire that had yet to vanish and she wished it would dearly.  

“I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.” Georgiana finally murmured before readjusting her collar. The faint glimpse of her diminishing love bites made her ache, but she forced her thoughts in another direction. The tea that Katerina had forced on her the past three mornings, “Katerina, would it be possible for you to show me what herbs you use in that tea? ...Please.” 

Katerina paused as she let the implications of the younger girl’s request settle in her mind. The blue-eyed devil must have been good in bed indeed if the lady was considering more illicit affairs. She nodded serenely, “Of course. I need to pick up more herbs from the market tomorrow. I’ll show you on my return.” 

Georgiana’s eyes lit up as she gave her servant a hopeful smile, “May I accompany you?” 

“You need not ask, lady.” Katerina replied bemused, “You may oversee your servants as you see fit.” 

“You’re not my servant, Katerina, you belong to the court.” Georgiana stated blandly before smiling almost sheepishly, “Besides I ask as I do not wish to accompany you as a lady, but more an equal.”  

Katerina smiled kindly as she pointed out, “Milady, one only has but to look to know we are not of equal station.” 

Georgiana barely glanced over her elegant gown as her smile turned impish, “Oh, that’s easily fixed.” 

Katerina’s bemusement with the young noble deepened for a moment before a dawning light shined on her thoughts. She reached back into the Lady’s trunk and removed a gown of simple make... too simple for a noble, “I suppose that explains this dress then.” 

Georgiana’s smile only grew, she had planned for every eventuality before leaving home. 

She was kept from replying as a knock at her door sounded and Katerina hurried to answer. Georgiana held in a sigh as she stood to receive whoever was calling. Her father appeared a moment later with Lord Somerset in tow. 

“Father.” Georgiana greeted as she dipped a shallow curtsey, “My Lord.” 

A grim satisfaction lit Henry Stafford’s gaze at his daughter’s manners as he gestured to the Earl of Worcester, “Lord Somerset has requested a stroll with you, my dear. Your uncle and I will be in attendance as well, of course.” 

Georgiana tilted her head subtly to note her uncle lingering in the common room before meeting Lord Somerset's stare. They were awaiting her acquiescence, but she wasn’t sure why. Her father had already made her participation a forgone conclusion. Biting back at the tide of bitter resentment that threatened to swallow her, she nodded faintly, “Of course. My Lord, it would be an honor.”  

“Please, we are to be married, Lady. Call me, Charles.” 

Georgiana blinked and wondered at the sense of humor of the world. Until this very moment, she hadn’t known her future husband’s Christian name and it seemed to be a cruel mockery that it was shared with the man who had taken her maidenhood. When she had children, she would pick strange arbitrary names for them, she had met four Thomas’s and three Mary’s in the past three days, “Then you must call me, Georgiana.” 

Lord Somerset nodded pleasantly, “Shall we, Georgiana?” 

She nodded and turned to Katerina, “My cloak, please.” 

Katerina pulled a deep midnight blue cloak from the trunk and hurried to wrap it around Georgiana. A pang of pity sprung through the servant as she viewed the other’s intended for the first time. Somerset’s hair had long since grayed and he had a portly belly, likely from too many nights drinking, but he had a kindness in his dark gaze that was absent from the Lady’s father – perhaps there was a small hope for a complacent marriage, if not a love match. 

Somerset offered his arm to Georgiana and quickly ushered the party out to the gardens. With the chilly weather, few people were mingling outside. Though Georgiana suspected that was why the Earl had wanted this stroll. He paced the two of them far enough from her guardians to be out of earshot, but within sight. They danced on the lines of decorum by doing so, but she found that she didn’t mind. She had always found it hard to speak freely in her uncle’s presence, much less her father’s. Somerset, she had yet to make any strong judgements. 

“It occurred to me, Georgiana, that aside from our introduction before the King that I haven’t taken the pains to get to know you. Of course, I feel like I already do, based on the word of your family, but I wondered if the same courtesy has been bestowed to you.” Somerset began quietly. 

Georgiana looked up with light surprise, “Barely anything, my Lord. Your name and title... not much else.” 

A glimmer of something like disappointment crossed his features before he smirked sagely, “I can’t say I’m surprised. I have an estate near Wales that I hardly ever see. My son, Henry, sees to its running." Another Henry, she thought dryly, "My time is spent here at court as Lord Chamberlain of the Household. Yours will be, as well.” 

“The Lord Chamberlain?” Georgiana asked, recognizing the position as important, but not what it entailed. 

Somerset hummed and nodded, “I act as spokesman for the King with Parliament and organize any major ceremonies with a council of mine and the King’s choosing.” 

“That sounds...” Georgiana trailed off realizing the word she had in mine was less than flattering. 

He seemed to sense this as he smiled sardonically, “Boring?” 

She smirked, “I was going to say tedious.” 

The Earl’s chuckle was warm and genuine as he regarded her, “You’re not wrong. My position was also the reason I was seeking a wife.” 

That gained her attention as she raised a brow. What role would she have to play as wife to the Lord Chamberlain, “Oh?” 

“Having a woman’s touch in the detailed planning to some of these events goes a long way in adding elegance to an otherwise garish affair. Also, many of the foreign ambassadors with which I must meet and attend bring along their wives and daughters. Their entertainment will fall to you.” He explained quietly with a hint of hesitance as if he was expecting her to baulk at the task presented. 

In truth, his explanation answered many questions she had in regards to him. She hadn’t understood why he was looking for another spouse when he seemed to have achieved everything a man of wealth and status was expected to achieve. The thought of playing hostess made her feel queasy, however. Even she knew that she wasn’t the most elegant or charming. Her sister, Elizabeth, would attest to such... so would her mother, actually. 

“You don’t know me, my Lord. You may find that I am not the most suitable for these tasks.” Georgiana stated softly. 

Somerset raised a brow, “Are you not the Georgiana Stafford who bested Lord Marlty at fencing?” 

“Y-yes.” Georgiana stuttered in surprise, holding back a wince at the memory. She had received a sound thrashing for that particular feat. Her father had made it clear she had embarrassed him and Lord Martly with her display. 

“The same Georgiana Stafford that engaged the Marquess of Pembroke in a lively debate on the merits of Porphyry's Universals?” 

That had only earned her a heavy lecture on arrogance from her mother. These were not tales her father or uncle would impart. Georgiana pursed her lips, “Mmm, yes. How do you-” 

Somerset smiled benignly, “Your brother, Thomas, is a good friend of mine. He’s spoken highly of you for years.” 

He could have told Georgiana the sky was purple and she would have been less disbelieving. Her eldest half-brother hardly spent any time with her and when he did, he had seemed rather indifferent to her presence. God knows that he absolutely despised her father. The fact that he spoke up for her now made her a little leery. 

“Look Georgiana, I need a wife who can think for herself. Not a child that needs handholding.” Somerset paused as he chose his words carefully, “From what I ‘ve been told and the way you’ve portrayed yourself that past few days, I believe that may be you. If anything, you’d make a good court spy with the way you’ve snuck around your father. Your uncle is no obstacle, bit oblivious that one.” 

Georgiana paled slightly, “My Lord?” 

Somerset chuckled and lowered his voice, “Charles, my dear. Blue is a lovely color on you, Georgiana. You’ll have to tell me what you took away from Princess Mary’s celebration.” 

There was a distinct sinking sensation in her gut as Georgiana fought to keep her expression impassive. Somerset took no notice of her struggle as he continued to lead her through the gardens, though he seemed to sense her hesitance, “I told you, my dear, I’m the Lord Chamberlain. I organize all the ceremonies and celebrations around here which means I know everyone who attends... Whether they were invited or not.”  

“My Lord -” 

“Charles.” 

“Charles...” She choked out with a quick glance towards her father. She was thankful that he had remained out of earshot, “Please don’t say anything to my father.” 

Somerset softened at her pleading gaze, “Oh my dear, I wouldn’t dream of it. Your father is a cad. The only reason I parlayed with him for your hand was because of Thomas. Otherwise, I believe your father would have married you off to Lord Buxton and no one deserves that fate.”  

Torn between hilarity and mild horror, Georgiana wasn’t sure how to respond to him. The faint sound of sniggering interrupted further conversation as the couple glanced down the path. A small group was heading in their direction and their presence only served to deepen her mixed emotions.  

A light touch to her elbow guided her to the side as her father and uncle come to hover behind them. She felt like she was being sealed in as the group of gentlemen approached. She wondered at this protective stance as she recognized both Charles Brandon and Anthony Knivert, but the third was unknown to her.  

The dynamic between the trio was curious. Brandon was the easiest to read as his countenance was one of barely contained exasperation that Georgiana had only witnessed on riled siblings, while both Knivert and the stranger appeared duly amused... though there was an undercurrent of anger in Knivert’s gaze as she swore, he sneered thinly at Brandon before taking note of her presence.  

It was if a bell had chimed as the trio slipped into more benign expressions and performed a faint bow of greeting. Lord Somerset either didn’t realize that the Duke had come to stand behind him or didn’t care as he took over introductions with Georgiana, “Mr. Compton, Mr. Brandon, Mr. Knivert.” 

“Lord Somerset.” Came a mumbled return. 

 Somerset allowed a faint smile, “Allow me to introduce, Mr. Anthony Knivert and Mr. William Compton. I believe you’ve already met Mr. Brandon.” 

Georgiana nearly blanched for a moment fearing that Somerset knew everything that had occurred the night of Princess Mary’s celebration before recalling that Brandon had been present for her courtly introduction. 

“Gentlemen, my intended, Lady Georgiana Stafford.” 

She nodded to each man in turn as they once again murmured their conscripted greetings. She stalwartly kept her gaze fixed on Mr. Compton, not willing to give the other men a chance to recognize her. She needn’t have worried as Somerset picked up the thread of conversation again, “And what brings you, gentlemen, out on so fine a day?” 

Compton’s eyes flared with suppressed amusement, “Oh, it seems that Brandon has lost a lamb.” 

Knivert snorted as he avoided the baleful glare of his friend. 

“A lamb?” Her uncle drawled incredulously. 

This time it was Georgiana who barely held in a snort as she caught a flash of derision on Somerset’s face. Even she knew that Compton spoke of a woman. 

“Yes, it seems he thought he had ensnared the little pet, but she managed to slip away.” Knivert continued almost jovially. 

Brandon sighed, “And now my friends are finding great joy in my misfortune, milord.” 

Unable to help herself, Georgiana turned a purposefully naïve expression on Brandon, “And what would you do with a lamb, Mr. Brandon?” 

Knivert and Compton seemed to stiffen in merriment as Brandon’s stormy gaze met hers. A mocking light entered his mien that Georgiana found all too familiar, “Why... devour her of course, milady.” 

Her father shifted behind her, but she ignored him and the way heat pooled in her stomach at his words and smiled unaffected, “Then it is good she slipped away. Her fate, I’m sure, is much more favored away from you, sir.”

“Quite right.” Somerset murmured amused as he watched Brandon’s eyes narrow. He gently prodded Georgiana forward, “If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen.”         

The two companies parted, but Georgiana could feel a familiar stare burning into her back.  

She smirked. 

       ༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺   ༻✧༺　༻✦༺

 “Kitty.” 

Katerina suppressed a sigh as she hefted her basket of laundry to her hip before glancing over her shoulder. A silky smile and smugly twinkling eyes greeted her, “Is there something you need, sir?” 

Charles leaned against the only exit to the linen closet and crossed his arms, “I hear you have a new mistress.” 

She merely raised an unimpressed brow at him, “Yes.”  

 When she didn’t move to him, Charles stepped away from his perch and into her space. His long fingers reached out to twine in her soft brown locks, “Lady Georgiana?” 

“Yes.” Katerina iterated again with a huffed laugh. She already figured the courtier had a new target for his bed... she almost felt sorry for her charge. Charles Brandon was a hard man to resist. Lord knows she hadn’t been able to when he had set his sights on her. 

His fingers drifted from her hair to skim the line of her décolletage, “Tell me about her.” 

He should know better. Katerina was one of the few servants who didn’t sell information on those she served. She has seen that particular trait come back to bite said servants more than once... it simply wasn’t worth the risk. 

Katerina blinked slowly before trapping his exploring hand beneath hers, “You are not as charming as you think you are, Mr. Brandon.” 

Charles smiled almost sweetly before turning his hand to grasp hers and bring it to his lips, “You wound me, Kitty.” 

Katerina felt herself flush under his heated gaze and tried to remember she shouldn’t be so enchanted by a man seeking out information on another woman. She swallowed tightly, “Yes, you appear absolutely wretched, sir... If I may take my leave. I do have chores to finish.” 

His gaze dropped to her basket of linens before somehow impossibly he moved closer. His other hand moved to brush loftily over the knuckles clenching her basket, “Your chores can wait.” 

“Mr. Brandon...No.” Katerina stated stodgily as she found the strength to meet his gaze. Her message was clear, she would not consent. Yet, she should have known that her resistance was like waving a flag at a bull. 

He studied her a moment, removing his touch from her body, but she felt no relief. His stare scorched her in ways that were more arousing than any touch. A dark glint of satisfaction glimmered at her and she bit back a whimper as he spoke, “Your lips say no, but the lovely blush to your skin and the way you're biting your lip tells me, yes. Why deny yourself, Kitty?” 

She sucked her lip further between her teeth and nearly smiled in triumph as his gaze darkened at the sight, “There is another for me, sir.” 

Charles raised a brow, unsurprised that she had someone courting her interest. Kitty was an attractive girl, despite her station, but poaching on another’s territory had never stopped him before and it wasn’t about to now, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”   

“Hardly incentive, sir.” Katerina countered dourly. She placed a hand on his chest to push him back, but he was built like the bull he emulated and didn’t budge. 

Charles smirked, “I’ll let you pass if you grant me but a kiss, sweet Kitty... For old time’s sake.” 

She shouldn’t indulge him. His request was nowhere near as innocent as he seemed to think it was, but unbidden her green eyes sought his mouth. She remembered those talented lips and his equally talented tongue. Suddenly, one last taste didn’t seem so harmful. Katerina bit the inside of her cheek, “Just a kiss?” 

Charles nodded gently, already feeling her capitulating. 

She sighed and shrugged, “Fine, just a kiss.” 

He smirked and fell to his knees much to her surprise. Katerina almost couldn't react as he swiftly lifted her skirts and tugged down her small pants. She dropped her basket and grasped his shoulders in shock as she squeaked, “Charles! You said a kiss.” 

“And I’m taking that kiss.” Charles murmured with a sinful grin before his lips and tongue pressed into her mound. She jerked startled, heated, and uncertain as she felt his tongue lathe across her entrance and to her rapidly swelling nub.  

A choked groan spilled from her mouth as her fingers dug into his shoulders, “C-Charles.” 

He didn’t let up, merely hummed and suckled heartily, pulling more lewd noises from her as she shuddered and trembled. She felt a familiar pressure rising in her core, pleasure tingled and teased as she was brought closer to the edge. It wasn’t until he had her perched precariously on a euphoric precipice that he abruptly stopped his ministrations and pulled away. 

A frustrated whine tore from her throat as she stared at him in outrage. Charles grinned at that look as he wiped at his mouth, “Delicious as always, sweet Kitty. You may pass now.” 

“You!” She huffed unable to form the angry words she needed to insult him. 

He chuckled as he mocked her, “Me?” 

Her green eyes blazed and instead of responding she shoved him back. Still on his knees, he went down to the ground quickly, but not before grabbing her thighs and toppling her onto him. He arched a brow at her, well aware that she could feel his arousal pressing against her now. 

Angry and wanton, Katerina cursed him before pressing her mouth to his. Charles wasted no time as he pushed her skirts back up and rolled her onto her back. Her legs parted easily for him as hurried fingers tugged at his breeches. In the span of a breath, he pressed into her warm welcoming heat. Low moans fell from them both as he began to rut harshly against her. This was her punishment for denying him earlier. 

She didn’t much care as she arched and met him thrust for thrust. The slap of skin was loud in her ears as it mixed with the squelching wetness of their coupling. Sparking heat ignited through her legs as she felt the cord of her arousal pull tight and break heavy and hard around his cock. Katerina cried out and curled her legs around his hips in an attempt to prolong the heady pleasure. She needn't have bothered.  

Charles groaned as she clamped tightly around him, but continued to thrust through her orgasm with hard, staccato movements. He wasn’t ready to be done. Reaching back, he gripped her ankles in either hand as he splayed her legs up and open, forcing her back to arch steeply as he continued to fuck into her. Katerina gave a choked scream at this new position as she felt his cock drilling into her cervix. Her body was too sensitive and it wasn’t long before she was toppling over the edge again, this time pulling him with her. Charles came with a roar as he spilled his seed deep into her womb. 

Breathing deeply, he sat back on his haunches and viewed the blissed-out servant below him in prideful pleasure. It wasn’t until he pulled her skirts back down and tucked himself away that she found the strength to speak again, “She’ll be at the markets tomorrow.” 

Charles paused and leant over her, “The markets?” 

She nodded with a hum, only to smile faintly as he pressed a light kiss to her mouth. She latched onto his shirt when he went to pull away and he stared down at her curiously. Katerina knew their interaction was over. They were both sated and he had gotten all that he wanted, but that didn’t mean she was entirely thrilled with having given into him so easily. She glowered lightly at him, “Don’t ruin her. She’s one of the good ones, Charles.” 

He pressed another kiss to her lips, this time lingering, “I won’t do anything, she doesn’t want me to.” 

That was what Katerina was afraid of... 

He stood then and finished fixing his clothes before making for the exit, “Tell Humphrey I said hello.” 

Katerina pressed a hand to her cheek and slowly sat up as he disappeared. Somehow, she was unsurprised that he knew who she was courting, but strangely that was the least of her concerns. She felt she now had to warn her new mistress of the bull heading her way. 

Grunting quietly, Katerina moved to her feet and grabbed the basket of linens. Sometimes, she loathed her job. 

Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”

Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest”  to dinner 👀 

Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️

This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.

When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.

It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.  

Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.

Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.

Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”

“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”

“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.

The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”

“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”

“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.

“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”

As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”

While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”

You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”

Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”

Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.

He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.

Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”

“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.

“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.

You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.

“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”

“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”

“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.

Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”

You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”

Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.

“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”

You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.

Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”

“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.

“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.

“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.

Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you.  “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded

Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.

You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”

Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”

The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.

So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”

Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”

Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”

“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.

“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.

Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.

You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.

“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.

Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”

You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”

“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”

You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”

“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.

*****

Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”

“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”

“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.

Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”

“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy’s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders

“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’  gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”

Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”

Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.

Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613  @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg

[quakerjoe]

Is America really ready to reclaim democracy?

I’m going to share a fact with you — and you’re not going to like it.

America’s problems can be reduced to the following. White Americans want America to be a failed state — and that is its fundamental, deep, and long standing problem. That is how America ended up here — more than half a century of white hostility to any kind of social progress whatsoever — which resulted in social collapse, and culminated in Trumpism. White people made America a failed state.

But are white people ready to own this problem, of their own extremism? Is that long-term social position really about to change this election, finally, after more than half a century? Are white Americans ready to become a modern, functioning society? The answer, right about now, is a kind of hysterical “yes!” We all — all of us sane and thoughtful people anyways — want Biden to win, and put an end to the long nightmare of the Trump years. But — despite what the polls might say — how realistic is that?

“Kill Umair! Get him!!!” Maybe you’re foaming at the mouth, ready to dispute my simple fact. So take a hard look at the chart above. What does it say?

I have some bad news, and then I have some worse news. Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later. The first piece of bad news is this. Here’s a fact that most people underestimate. America is still about 80% white. 80%. Given the record-breaking turnout, this election is going to be more about America’s white majority than about minorities, probably, at least if every group turns out in record numbers roughly equally. Minorities have much less power than many imagine, precisely because they are still seriously in the…minority. This election is about white America, and if it really wants to live in a democracy — or if it’s happier living in a fascist society.

You might think that sounds over the top, so here’s the worse news. The chart above says this. It says that white Americans, as a group, have never, as a group, voted for a Democratic President. Never in modern history. In fact, the chart above in fact understates the problem. This trend goes back to JFK and perhaps before. Are you beginning to see the problem here? Why I say “America’s problem is that white people want it to be a failed state?”

Let me make it clearer. White Americans can be relied on, in the majority, as a group, to “vote Republican.” I put it in quotes because it’s worth examining what that anodyne statement really means. Liberal, sane, thoughtful White Americans often overestimate how many of them there are, how widespread their cause is. The result is that when I say “Americans are…” meaning of course the majority, which is still white, I get a wave of protest. Americans aren’t dumb! Americans aren’t dumb! They’re not violent, stupid racists! They want to live in a modern society! Are they, do they — at least the white majority? Let’s take a brief and hard look at reality.

Here are some things white Americans have been for, as a group, in their majority. Segregation. Endless war. Inequality. Billionaires. Capital. Guns and religion as primary social values. That is what the voting pattern above means. Conversely, here are some thing white Americans have been against, as a group, in their majority. Desegregation. Civil rights. Womens’ rights. Their own healthcare, retirement, and childcare. Public goods of any kind whatsoever. That is what the “voting pattern” above means in the real world. Need I go on? America’s problem is that white Americans as a social group, its majority social group, want America to be a failed state. They don’t want to live in a modern, civilised democracy, and never have.

White America is America’s problem. A big, white, ignorant problem. The problem of the white American voter — that white Americans don’t want to admit — goes back more than half a century at this point. If the answer is “Make America Great Again!” then the question is: “well, who brought it this point of self-destruction?” and the answer is….white Americans. They’re the ones responsible for the self-destruction of the society they still rule as a massive majority. Nobody else is responsible for their poverty, despair, and humiliation but them. That is what the chart above makes crystal clear.

Who voted, over and over again, to have worse lives? No healthcare, retirement, affordable education, childcare — no public goods of any kind whatsoever? White Americans did. What the? The question baffles the world. Why would anyone choose a worse life? The answer is that white Americans would not accept a society of true equals. “I won’t pay for those dirty, filthy peoples’ educations, healthcare, retirements! Why, their grandparents were my grandpappy’s slaves!” White Americans chose to retain power, supremacy, superiority, even in a failing society. They chose staying on top of decline and ruin, rather than prospering as equals.

Let me make that even clearer, by putting it in a global perspective. This is the part you’re really not going to like.

White Americans are the rich world’s most hostile, ignorant, violent, cruel, and selfish social group — by a very long way. “Voting conservative” after all doesn’t mean nearly the same thing in Europe or Canada. There, even conservative parties agree on the basics — people should have healthcare, education, retirement, that the only point of the public purse isn’t endless war and death machines. Conservatism in America is off the charts, and so “voting” that way carries a very different meaning. It means that White Americans are the rich world’s most regressive, ignorant, and self-destructive political bloc — by such a long way that they might as well not be in the rich world at all.

I don’t mean any of that as an insult, by the way. I mean it objectively, literally, factually. You’d think that by now White Americans would have figured out that voting against their own standards of living ever rising just because it meant black and brown people would have public goods too was…imbecilic. Especially watching Europe and Canada rise and prosper. They’ve had more than half a century to figure that out. But they still haven’t. What else do you call the inability to learn from the world and history but…ignorance?

Do you know what the word imbecile means? Someone who can’t look after themselves. But that’s what has happened: white people are the ones who wrecked their very own lives, futures, and society — beginning the moment, decades back, that minorities finally gained a few rights, in a giant, stupid, endless, escalating temper tantrum, that culminated in Trumpism.

I know this sounds insulting. But to speak factually and empirically about levels of self-destruction this immense requires us to reach beyond the lines of everyday discourse. Let me try again, then.

White Americans really are different. From their peers — or at least the people they believe are their peers. But the truth that their political choices over decades reveals is this. White Americans have almost nothing in common with White Europeans or Canadians — who back the expansive social contracts of social democracies reliably. White Americans reliably reject such choices, which is how they made their society collapse. instead, they have more in common with the ethnic-religious-fundamentalist majorities of nations like Iran, or the authoritarian-nationalist majorities of nations like Russia. They are regressive, sectarian, fundamentalist, unable to change, trapped by their own ideologies.

That is how and why America collapsed. Black People didn’t make it so. Brown People didn’t. Native Americans didn’t. America is still about 80% white, and white Americans make a certain choice reliably and consistently and predictably as a group — they vote “conservative,” but conservative in America doesn’t mean what it does in the rest of the rich world — it means something much more like Iran or Russia. Bang.

White Americans impoverished themselves, through decades of such folly. Voting against their very own basic public goods. Which meant they had to pay monopolists eye-watering prices for those very things which could and should have been socially provided — healthcare, higher education, retirement, and so on. Today, the average American dies in $62,000 of debt. Do you know what that predicted, a few years ago? A fascist implosion. When majorities grow impoverished, they turn even more regressive, violent, ignorant, and brutal. America’s white majority was already all those things — and then they became even more so.

A demagogue came along, Trump, who blamed white America’s problems on everyone but white Americans. Mexican babies. Black mothers. Latino immigrants. Syrian refugees. Gay minority couples. Everyone but white Americans was responsible for the plight of white Americans. But how could they be? America was and is still 80% white. Nobody was ever responsible for white America’s stunning plunge into poverty, humiliation, and despair — but white America.

But nobody wants to blame themselves, do they? It’s only human to project one’s failings onto others. So white America took Trump’s bait. And it was easier, too, to sell that line of nonsense, that racism, that prejudice, that bigotry, to a white majority that was already those things, and always had been. It was a self-reinforcing process, which was inevitable once America’s white middle and working class began to implode. Fascism was coming to America.

And it did.

Those of us who warned of it were called alarmists and hysterics and so on, when we warned of camps, genocide, bans, raids, purges. As all those things came to pass, and, sick to our stomachs, we survivors tried to warn all over again, we were mocked, shamed, and condemned. By white Americans. Even the good ones. We were told we were underestimating the power of white America to do the right thing.

But we understood something that white American never has about itself. White America has never done the right thing. Ever. At least not in modern history. White America, again, the chart shows us, has been for segregation and war and brutality — and against desegregation, women’s rights, civil rights, and so on. White America, as a group, as a majority, has never, ever voted for anything even slightly towards greater equality, justice, freedom, for all. It has only ever voted to preserve, maintain, and expand its own power. Ever.

White Americans — the good and reasonable ones — overestimate their social group so badly that they probably imagine a majority of white people voted for Obama. Wrong. Even Obama couldn’t win a majority of whites. The only candidate who came close was Bill Clinton — and even he failed. White Americans, again, never voted any way but fanatically “conservative”, which, in global terms, means more like majorities in Iran or Russia than Canada or Europe — regressive, ignorant, brutal, hostile, selfish, and supremacist, not modern, gentle, fair, wise, sophisticated, thoughtful, peaceful, tolerant.

White America’s escalating temper tantrum — its pattern of regressive voting — finally escalated in Trumpism. That is how all of America ended up here. Ruled by white America’s fascists and fanatics, too. Which even the sane and thoughtful white Americans despair at. But will they finally understand themselves? Can they look in the mirror once and for all?

We survivors and scholars have seen all this before — the phenomenon of the deceptive majority. By “deceptive majority,” I mean the idea that good and reasonable white Americans have about themselves. That as a majority, they are good and reasonable, and so goodness and sanity and reason will prevail in the end. They have not in America precisely because white Americans badly overestimate just how sane and reasonable their group in society is. How can they be, when they think guns matter more than healthcare and human rights?

I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. But again, I am only speaking to you factually, empirically, objectively. White Americans have voted over again and again for their guns and their Bibles — but they have never, ever voted as group to have healthcare or retirement for all or any single aspect of a functioning modern society whatsoever. Not to this day.

White America seemed to prefer supremacism and theocracy and authoritarian-fascism over modernity, as a social group. And that is how America ended up being a failed state. That, my friend, is the ugly and difficult fact.

That is the problem of the white American voter. And it spells real trouble.

Because when we say things like “Biden will win in a landslide!” what we are really saying is: white American as a group will, for the first time in modern history, not vote Republican. That they will, as a group, vote for something other than regressivism of the most extreme kind on offer. That the massive tide and force of history will suddenly turn on its head. That a decades long trend will simply reverse itself en masse, like never before.

We are asking for something greater than we may know — for history to deliver us a genuine transformation in long-standing political and social attitudes amongst a majority that has never, ever felt the way we wish them to. Who have never, ever been on the side of modernity or greater democracy or more civilization.

We are hoping for change of the deepest kind. Are we overconfident, then?

I’m not saying that a Biden landslide is impossible. But I am willing, at this stage, to call it unlikely. I don’t think white America is suddenly going to reverse decades of history. I think history has a terrible momentum and inertia, which doesn’t turn itself around so easily. I think social attitudes and political preferences don’t simply magically upend themselves overnight. I don’t think white America as a majority is going to back Biden. (If it does, it will be thanks to young people, though.)

Where does that leave us? Not in a very good place. The problem of the white American voter is very, very real. More real than white Americans know — which is precisely why their pundits and intellectuals never discuss it: they are giving their own social group’s regressivism and imbecility a free pass. But it’s the elephant in the room, just how different white Americans really are, as a group, in the majority, how regressive, cruel, hostile, ignorant, and backwards. That’s not an opinion — it’s a sad, terrible, frightening fact.

It’s possible that minorities will deliver the election for Biden. That’s if turnout for them is much, much higher than for whites. We don’t know, really, if that’s the case. I’d say while the chances are slim, they are very real.

More likely, though, is the following scenario. White America votes the way it always has as a group, as a majority — to screw everyone else over, as hard as possible, even if it itself pays a price. That will lead to three possible outcomes. One, an outright Trump victory. Two, a undecided election, which the Supreme Court will obviously hand to Trump. Or three, the most likely, in my estimation, months of chaos, as America tries to figure out what to do next, about the mess its in, and the GOP makes every grab for raw power.

And the protests of the good and thoughtful white Americans don’t help: “not all of us!” Sure, Chet, not all of you. But enough of you have been like this for most of modern history. Embittered, hostile, cruel, backwards.

Is that about to change? I don’t know, my friends. I doubt it, but I hope so. So why do I tell you this? Because we minorities are what we have always been: barely tolerated interlopers and hated intruders in the Promised Land. You, my white American friend, are the only one with the power to change any of it.

Umair October 2020

[kinetic-elaboration]

August 15: 2x03 The Paradise Syndrome

I have seen this episode once before and I remember it being pretty awful... but tbh, I didn’t think it was so bad this time around. Maybe that’s just because my expectations were, like, Spock’s-Brain low. It definitely had issues but there was stuff I liked too!

Hmmm, that’s not the bridge. It appears to be... California?

Wondering what people might be so “blessed by this environment”--what a manly he-man action/adventure guy thing to say, amirite?

How does Spock know the significant markers of all the Native American tribes at a distance, off the top of his head?

(Answer: he doesn’t; all of this information is wrong and also one of those tribes is completely made up lmao.)

Honestly, who’s to say these people aren’t advanced? How do YOU know?

“Just so peaceful... no command decisions.” Oh no, Jim’s feeling Romantic again.

Honestly, imagine this characterization in AOS: overworked starship captain think he wants a break (but is wrong). Beyond made a vague attempt but missed what it is that Kirk finds stressful about command--it’s not that it’s boring, it’s the weight of the responsibility and the inability to find love.

Although funnily enough, even on his Native American Vacation, he still finds himself in a command position. He just can’t be stopped. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Oh no, the obelisk ate him.

Maybe these people specifically built the obelisk so that they could return to this idyllic ““primitive”“ state, hmm? Maybe they like their lives this way. Maybe they experienced "progress" and then decided that whatever era of their development looked like indigenous American peoples had it right. (This is not correct but it roughly is the plot of Errand of Mercy so I’m not without precedent.)

Spock’s using simple tools to explain his point to Bones lol. “Here, let me dumb it down for you, lesser man of science.”

“Who am I? What are these?” Cpine morning voice: “This must be a dream!”

Kirk looks so confused. The god from the obelisk.

“The engines are showing signs of stress.” Seems to me like SCOTTY’S showing signs of stress.

And yet the music is so whimsical.

Honestly Kirk’s expression here = Denny Crane’s when in a meeting

White man brings CPR, is hailed as god. (I wish I were making this up.)

Damn, Salish has been demoted. How embarrassing for him.

This is a VERY interesting Spock. He does all his calculations, but the he takes all the risks. He’s very certain and single-minded, almost obsessed, not afraid of anything. I think it’s IC but I also think you can see some Kirk influence, perhaps... You can see how Spock has grown in his command abilities since The Galileo Seven.

The wise ones = the aliens.

“He died before he could tell Salish the secret” to opening the Obelisk and stopping the asteroid. That IS unfortunate.

“How does this shirt open?” Lol.

“Your name is Kirok?” “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“I’ve never been this happy and peaceful.” Funny how he looks neither happy nor peaceful. Maybe it’s something like “I’ve never been this happy and peaceful...and I don’t like it.” Or “I’ve never been this happy and peaceful... there must be something wrong.”

“Here there is much time. For everything.” No there isn’t, there’s an asteroid coming.

Kirk’s cottage core fantasy.

Poor Scotty, so stressed out. Maybe he needs some time with the indigenous aliens.

The Joining Day? Lol okay.

Kirk has no chill, at all. “Oh, you want to get married? Tomorrow? Okay!!” Is this how Gary was able to successfully distract with him the blonde lab technician?

The “stardrive.”

“Estimated repair time?” “FOREVER.”

“And you lost Jim.” Cool it Bones, there’s no need to be cruel. Spock’s already in his thinking pose so you know he’s taking this seriously.

Love Spock’s chair. That’s not Starfleet regulation.

“I have found paradise.” Is he high??

Requisite highly choreographed fight scene.

“You’ve barely eaten or slept for weeks.” That’s because he’s worried about Jim. And the giant asteroid. This is a great Spock and McCoy scene though.

I can’t believe this. Spock lies down (barely!) and McCoy just leaves like he actually thinks he’s won, and then Spock immediately gets up again to go back to work.This guy is even easier to fool than Sarek.

You know Spock spent his whole adolescence going "Sure, I'll do the thing" and then just not doing it.

“A strange lodge that moves through the sky...” Well okay.

Okay I’m sorry, is he sensing the enterprise or is he sensing SPOCK? Because most of this dialogue might just imply he’s generically remembering his old life... but he also specifically says that the “flying lodge” was farther away and now it’s closer again, and how he could he know that otherwise?

She’s pregnant? That’s not good lol. AWKWARD.

Also the closest that TOS will ever come to acknowledging people have sex.

Omg he made a lamp. He made a lamp on his first day there. Does this imply that Captain Kirk had an arts and crafts phase?? Like CPR I understand him knowing--I’m sure everyone in Starfleet does. But hand-carving a lamp? That’s a whole other skill.

Various cultures including “certain Vulcan offshoots” use music notes as words omgggggg I love this information PLEASE tell me more.

“The Preservers” is a good concept imo. Nifty sci fi innovation: taking aliens from endangered places and giving them a new place, then setting it up nicely for them.

Stop throwing things guys! It’s not helping!

“I need Nurse Chapel.” Damn right you do.

Spock really doesn’t like that “wife.” He sounds like “Wife?? How dare??”

Then he suggests it’s a hallucination even though there’s a woman right there.

"Naturally, since he did not come from there. He's my man, get your paws off him."

Vulcan mind fusion? What the heck is that? How is it season 3 and they still don’t know what to call it?

“He is an extremely dynamic individual.” Spock was really taken for a ride in that brain.

“The landing party is expendable.” There’s the Captain.

“I have an excellent eye for musical notes.” Brag.

“Just press the right button.”

Looks like Spock was the god they wanted all along.

Okay, that was an uncool ending though. I know they basically had to kill Miramanee as soon as she was pregnant but like, there was also no reason for her to be pregnant??? I would have preferred if (1) Miramanee hadn't been pregnant, (2) Jim got over her as soon as he regained his memory and (3) she lived and they just parted awkwardly.

Also I think it would have been nice if they had ended with the Enterprise explaining to Salish how the obelisk works, and then maybe even a hint that he and Miramanee will get back together. Like, maybe not that, since I’m not a fan of women just being used to, like, make men feel better--though I’m also not a fan of them being fridged because of Inconvenient Baby--but he should have at least gotten his position back and, more importantly, the knowledge he was always entitled to. Also, the very existence of an asteroid deflector, along with the people’s extensive knowledge of what weather signifies Oncoming Asteroid, implies this happens to them with some frequency. So in other words, the threat will return.

Plus Salish never got enough credit for being right, which he was! The whole time!

Oh and also I would have liked some acknowledgement that Jim does like being Captain. If you watch the whole show, you know that he occasionally bemoans the stress and his inability to maintain a romantic relationship, despite his love of long walks on the beach, but that he’s also ambitious, he loves exploration and adventure, he gets bored if left in one place too long, and he believes in the necessity of progress and discovery to keep not just individuals but societies from stagnation. But if you just watched this episode, you’d think he’d never been happy in his entire life, and that returning to command makes him miserable.

Aside from the Native American stuff--which was awkward and rather unnecessary and has aged, as you might imagine, very very poorly--I actually didn’t hate the episode. It had some VERY interesting Spock stuff, which I think is within a reasonable Spock characterization, and some great Spock and Bones moments. Kirk’s story line was surprisingly engaging for him being completely separate from the crew, and the general theme that he sometimes needs, or thinks he desires, a break from command, is definitely in keeping with other episodes. I liked the asteroid as the Big Danger, which was surprisingly dynamic--by which I mean, it did a good job of connecting the very disparate story lines on the Enterprise and on the planet. I also liked the Sci Fi Concept of the week in the Protectors. And it was interesting to see an ep take place over a longer period of time.

None of this is to downplay how awkward the Native American elements are--incredibly fetishistic, and also lazy--like, “I want to show something Simple and Idyllic...I know! Indians!” There was no reason they should look like American Indians. In fact, it makes no sense that they do: the Protectors take peoples from planets that are about to be destroyed and (somehow) discreetly move them somewhere else, but Native American peoples still.... very much exist? And so does Earth as a whole. So obviously these aliens weren’t transplanted from Earth. So why should their culture resemble some awkward mishmash of Native American cultures?

So overall I’d say, the ideas of the episode, the structure, the characterizations (mostly), and the overall ideas were good, but it was just very awkward and unfortunate that it chose the... aesthetic that it did--especially because it was very much an aesthetic choice and not a well-thought-out, culturally sensitive one. Gonna be honest and just chalk that up to it being 1968 though.

Next is And the Children Shall Lead, which I actually think was one of the first TOS eps I ever saw... But I don’t remember it at all.  So we’ll see!