#as if 'gullible' (while still wrong) was even CLOSE to that level | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarefox · 26 days ago

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I wonder what are signs in childhood, in hindsight, of autistic folks who got diagnosed as an adult? Are there any researches on that?

Because I start to wonder if the few weird things I did as kid, may be relevant in that matter. Since my childhood me is always not bad enough in school or not emotionally cold enough for some to get me tested further (even the suspicion of me having dyscalculia got put down because I was good in math in elementary school... yea when I used my fingers or imagination to count, after that level of math I was lost....).

Anyways these are the things I recall in my childhood:

According to my mother I was always scared of other people and children even already in nursery school. The teachers told her that I will have it difficult later if I don't start socializing more.

I always had to observe them for a while till I was fine playing with them (I still need to do that today. Observe new people to learn their communication style, so i can read and predict them better... I do that with animals too btw which is why I always have a good and close relationship with my pets, others envy me about. I srsly don't get why not everyone does it like me. Just treat the pet like some little guy who doesn't speak your language but can speak with their body and face)

never liked singing with others, already in nursery school (i like singing alone tho). Apparently I was a good singer as kid because a neighbor overheard me and suggested my parents to get me in his singing class but I was too scared about that idea (who knows how my life would have been if I said yes or my parents would have gently pushed me to not be scared and give it a try. because I am good at recognizing sounds, memorize music / sounds and basically can get high from music... also synaesthesia with sound)

I mainly only ever played with kids I knew. Which were my cousins who were around my age and since we lived near each other I didn't need other friends anyways.

obsession for animals, always watched animal documentaries. fell in love with corvids and collected all crow and raven feathers i could find as a teen. (still have some). Mainly started liking them because I was shocked that people hate crows and even kill them. So I decided to be their only fan basically and then it turned into me printing ornithology pages about all corvids.

obsession with drawing it's kind of a way for me to analyze something and rotate and touch it in my head for a while.... basically made this into part of my job, but am suffering from art block since a few years now

Always needed to walk holding hands with my mom, even till elementary school I think (and we only stopped because my mom made me stop). I felt insecure and overwhelmed when I had to walk on my own. Even nowadays. With my bestie (we were kinda flirty) few years ago, I loved walking holding hands with her. I don't have to focus as much as when I walk alone ya know... kinda like a guide dog just as a human I like.

Was super gullible as kid and took a lot literally. Till I learned from mistakes or others explanations. I have an interest for linguistic (at least nowadays). I learned what metaphors are / how they work, what sayings mean and all that. I even had a phase where I talked with my cousins in metaphors because it was funny to me but they didn't understand me so i stopped.

(might have taken my parents "if you do this / do this wrong, everyone will laugh at you" too serious too because for a long time I associated it as horrible event of failure when people laughed because of me)

very annoyed from daily noises people make, developed a strong dislike for afternoons since that's the noisiest, most crowded and brightest part of the day. But noise that belongs to my set of sounds I am used to are fine (like hearing the noise my pets did even calmed me)

heat is the worst feeling on my body sweating, breathing gets harder, thinking gets worse. It's one of the few states I can get pissed and irritated so fast

super sensitive to smell, or at least chemical / artificial smells. The amounts of times I got car sick into my fathers car because of the cleaning products or the smelly things you hang on the mirror 🤢 till they learned to don't use that anymore. I also get migraine from perfume or some deodorants. Parts of my sense of smell turn off at some point and every perfume smells the same then... like acid...... (sad / funny thing is that I even mentioned my very discomfort and struggle I had with long car rides during heat and bad smells, when my latest therapist asked the group what extreme situations we know where we learned to "sit it out and stopped listening to our body" but she was like "Nobody likes that, that's normal"... Ma'am you don't understand the level of discomfort I learned to endure / zone out of, which nowadays leads to me sitting through a lot of things other people would quit because it's the same level for me)

BUT I also liked care rides (when not sensory nightmare), looking out of the window calmed me so much my parents used that to get me to sleep as a baby when I was crying. Still am into this kind of "content" because I love watching driving and walking videos on youtube when I feel down or need to focus on work.

also light sensitive during migraine. you can kill me with the light + artificial smell combination

HATED it when my parents rearranged my room without asking me first. One time I even got a rage fit and tore everything out of the closet again... just to put it back in myself but in a better order.

always uncomfortable till panicking in big crowds, depends how packed they are. unless it's a concert then I focus on the music enough (also helps when someone is with me)

always had stimms like rocking my body but people told me I look like a psycho doing that. or leg bouncing, which annoyed my mom (my dad does leg bouncing or shaking too btw 🤔 sometimes I wonder if he too is sort of neurodivergent, he does have some signs)

synaesthesia numbers / letters / words -> colors, movements -> sounds (useful for drawing), music -> shapes, movements, colors, mathematical units and chronological order of numbers -> imaginary number line / timeline in literal space....

#autism #rambling #neurodivergent problems #synaesthesia

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theshadiertwin · 2 years ago

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Have some not-fic about this post by @theminecraftbee that has made me laugh and then feel immediately distressed:

Someone - we'll say Scott, because he's gay and dramatic and online enough to come up with this kind of plan and mention it on the server - talks about how it would theoretically be possible to kidnap a hostage and force their soulmate to complete a task or provide a resource to get them back alive. Someone else - we'll say Martyn, because he feels as though he has nothing to lose by this plan - hears him, and decides to attempt the ploy in question.

He considers what there is of value in this game, and on his green life there's very little - he has unlimited access to Bdubs and Impulse's cows already, the enchanter has not yet been found, and there are no villagers or even zombie villagers to convert. So it's something for the future.

For the wars to come.

Traps then. Redstone.

He considers what redstoners they have on the server, and of course they all have a decent level of skill, but there are three names that come to mind first: Etho, Impulse, and Tango.

Etho is right out. He'd have to not only find a way to kidnap and secure Joel, which is a dangerous proposition in itself, but then he'd have to contend with Etho on the outside of it - Etho who is an enigma at the best of times, Etho who seems affable and seems to have everyone's best interests at heart, Etho who betrayed them in their first go, who betrayed team Best for Bdubs and then Bdubs for his own life in the second (or so Martyn thinks), who has the whole world to betray on behalf of Joel this time - you can see the blood in Joel's teeth already, and Etho's teeth are hidden. No, Etho is not a safe choice.

Impulse seems more likely at first glance, and as a bonus he and Bdubs are still green - if it goes wrong, revenge will not be immediately an option for those two. But then again, Bdubs keeps revenge close to his heart, and carries his loyalties through seasons, moreso even than Martyn does. As much as Martyn knows his hand would hesitate to swing an axe at Ren, even now, he knows that Bdubs feral heart would tear itself out of his chest before putting his love in harms way, and even now he would be gentle with Cleo and Etho in memory of the love they had in prior worlds. If he held Bdubs captive to force Impulse to give him a trap, he would be arming a trap against himself by ever letting Bdubs free. He is not prepared to keep a prisoner until the world's ending, not yet.

Now Tango - Tango is a real possibility. Tango's rage, to paraphrase what Bdubs once said, is a valuable weapon in and of itself, to the one that can aim it, but the other half of Tango's soul is Jimmy. And Jimmy's heart is trained in forgiveness - even in their first go, he didn't want to stain his hands with the blood of his enemies. If he can convince him - and Martyn is confident enough in his silver tongue to know he can convince him - he'll be able to talk his way out of consequences, make it sound reasonable even. He'll be able to talk him into the trap too - it's easy, with his gullible old friend. The difficult part, really, will be keeping him alive while he's a bargaining chip, but he has faith in his ability to build a Timmy-proof box that can last a few hours.

So Tango. Redstone. War.

And the invitation for the first red lives to come in, should fate disagree with Martyn's hopes once again.

#trafficblr #notfic #i am OUT OF PRACTICE but i had to write #hope this inspires someone #double life smp #dlsmp

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snaggletoothedbastard · 2 years ago

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I wrote an entire fucking essay in the middle of the night, help me

Here it is:

"Frodo's not a hero"

So many people have said this and I hate it, because it doesn't make sense. And I'm saying this as someone who used to agree with these people. I saw a few posts on social media criticising Frodo a couple of years ago, and because I hadn't seen the films many times and was a bit gullible, I thought they were right. Then later I actually thought about it, properly, and I realised it was kind of stupid. And the more I thought about it, the more stupid it sounded.

I've tried to figure out the reasons for people to have this opinion. I think the biggest ones I've seen are toxic masculinity, and the belief that in order to be a good character, you have to be 100% perfect.

Let's start with toxic masculinity. We probably all know what it is: the idea that doing anything typically associated with feminity makes a man weak, or stupid, or "less of a man".

It is fairly clear that Frodo has more "feminine" traits than "masculine" traits. He doesn't do very much fighting. He never kills anyone, though there are a couple of times when he threatens to. He cries several times. He gets scared and sad and angry. The fact that these traits are even called "feminine" in the first place is ridiculous, but they are, and that seems to be why people (especially men) don't like the fact that Frodo has them. When you think of a fantasy story with monsters and magic and war, the assumption often seems to be that the main protagonist will be someone like Aragorn: a tough, fearless man who wields a sword and has epic battle scenes. And there's nothing wrong with that. But Tolkien has written Aragorn and the other characters like him as side characters, and he's written Frodo Baggins, a small, innocent, kind-hearted hobbit who has never been part of a war in his life, as the central character. He's obviously not the only protagonist, but if someone asked you, "Who is the main character in The Lord of the Rings?" it's likely that you will say Frodo.

This subversion of stereotypes is one that people still seem to be getting used to. From what I've been able to figure out, a lot of people (especially men) are having a hard time accepting the fact that you can have a male protagonist who is stereotypically "feminine" and is not criticised for it by the other characters, and doesn't end up changing to become more "manly" by the end of the story. People are so used to the word "strong" being synonymous with "masculine" that it's taking a while for them to realise that you don't have to be a sword-swinging, orc-decapitating warrior to be strong.

You also get a lot of people who seem to be offended by Frodo's ability to cry. This is plain moronic. Yes, Frodo does cry, and if you ask me, he has every reason to. You know who else cries? Every other member of the Fellowship (except Legolas for some reason - and let's be real, he comes pretty close). Yes, even the really tough guys. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli ... they all have feelings, and they all express said feelings. And for some reason, which I have tried and failed to identify, they don't get criticised for it, but Frodo does. It makes no sense. Is it because he's already "feminine" and being emotional apparently takes it a step too far? Or is it something else? I guess I'll never know.

Now let's look at the other reason. This one is more complicated. There are so many people preaching about Sam being the "real hero" that at this point, I think they might just be echoing each other without really thinking about what they're saying.

They're not entirely wrong. Sam is certainly an important character. But he's not the only important character.

A lot of Tolkien fans are convinced that in order for Frodo to be considered a hero, he has to be more like Sam. And on a surface level, this might seem to make sense. But think about it - Sam and Frodo have different tasks. Frodo's the Ringbearer. His job is to take the Ring to Mordor, where it can be erased from existence. He also willingly chose this job, knowing it would be hard, but knowing that someone had to do it, and nobody else was volunteering. Sam (and, for the start of the quest, the rest of the Fellowship) is going with him to offer support, because, as is made clear when showing the other people who had the Ring, it affects people - it clouds their judgement, above all else, and if Frodo had been alone with it, he wouldn't have had anyone to stop him making reckless decisions and the Ring most likely would have taken control over him much sooner.

Although Frodo and Sam both experience a lot of the same things externally, their internal experiences are completely different. And as a result of that, the external experiences affect them differently, because they have different mental states and different mindsets.

Frodo has the Ring even before the official quest starts, so it has probably already been starting to mess with his head a bit. He also has to deal with both the physical and mental trauma of having been stabbed by a Ringwraith. He is already somewhat mentally damaged at the start of the quest, and the mental damage only increases as the story progresses. Sam, on the other hand, does not have any already-existing trauma that is mentioned in the story. Plus he is not the one carrying the Ring.

Let's focus on the Ring for a second. It is very clearly shown to have negative effects on anyone who has it. And a lot of the time, the effects don't take long to make an appearance. Look at Isildur - he had it for only a few minutes before he turned down the opportunity to destroy it - or Gollum - all he had to do was look at it, and within seconds he was brutally fighting his friend and then literally killing him so he could have it.

It takes a lot longer for it to affect Frodo this severely. Whether that's because it was simply bothering him less or because he was mentally fighting it off, I'm not sure. But it is stated that it takes willpower to stop the Ring affecting you, so it's likely that that's the case with Frodo. It also presents itself as a physical weight that gets heavier the closer it gets to Mordor, to the point that when he's in Mordor, he can barely stand up.

It's made clear that the damage the Ring is doing to Frodo is physical as well as mental, and when you combine that with nonstop walking towards a terrifying place full of horrible people, while you may or may not have Ringwraiths looking for you, and you're also running on limited supplies, the whole thing sounds very unenjoyable. This experience is most likely affecting Frodo's perception of the other things happening to him.

A good example of this is Gollum: someone who had the Ring for five hundred years and became more of a creature than a person. Because Frodo has the Ring when he meets Gollum and he knows, firsthand, what it's like to have it and what it does to people, he finds it easier to empathise with Gollum than Sam does. He also knows that looking at Gollum is essentially the equivalent of looking at his future, if everything goes wrong and the Ring consumes his mind. Frodo's line, "I have to believe he can come back," refers to Gollum, but, if you think about it, also refers to himself. He shows compassion to Gollum, and that actually causes a change in his behaviour and, as is implied, one of his personalities, although it is short-lived. This gives Frodo hope - if Gollum can actually do something good and show signs of coming back to his former self after being so drastically changed by the Ring, so can he.

Frodo does succumb to the Ring in the end, and this is another thing that fans don't like. I suppose it might be disappointing to watch as a viewer - after making the whole journey, it would have been satisfying to see Frodo complete his quest. But the reality is that he's had the Ring for months up until this point. And he's in Mordor, the place where Sauron is most powerful. So it shouldn't be surprising that he doesn't manage to let go of the Ring, and yet here I am, arguing with the people who apparently did find it surprising.

It's important to point out that if Frodo found everything easy and didn't struggle with anything, he would be a terribly-written character. By writing him as someone who is impacted negatively by certain events and needs help to do some things, Tolkien has made Frodo realistic. Because everyone - everyone in the world - has problems and weaknesses as well as strengths. And I promise you, if Frodo was written as one of those characters who does everything really well and has no realistic flaws, everyone would be saying he was boring and had no personality. And they'd be right. So it's really quite stupid to dislike him for finding things difficult and not being able to do everything without help, because those are the things that give his character depth and relatability.

You could argue that Sam does a better job of resisting the temptation of the Ring better than Frodo, but you would be forgetting that Frodo has it for a lot longer than Sam. And even when Sam has had it for only a couple of hours, it still affects him. Yes, he gives it back to Frodo, but there is hesitation to do so that is clearly shown in the film and the book.

To say that Sam is inherently better than Frodo is to ignore all the differences in their experiences. And to say Sam is the "real hero" is to ignore Frodo entirely. What he did may not have been as dramatic or exciting as any of the battle scenes, but it ultimately led to the destruction of the Ring and the end of the war. So Frodo is a hero, and those who say otherwise have a lot to rethink.

Not to mention, if Sam was real and saw what people were saying about Frodo, he would absolutely flip his shit :)

#my english teacher would be so proud #listen all these points have been going round and round in my head for fucking weeks #and i thought it was about time i wrote it all down instead of just saying it to myself #frodo #frodo baggins #lotr #lord of the rings #i can't believe i put more effort into this than my english exams #priorities y'know #i hate when people read stuff i've written but i kind of want people to see this #so please don't judge my essay-writing skills #also i'm sorry it's so long #i have a lot of thoughts

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years ago

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What is something you can say to they boys to break them, like something so mean and hurtful that they may cry?

Okay..OUCH!

As punishment for making me sad I’m doing this to the sweethearts

Warning: this is dark, like darling hates the yans and doesn’t care about their feelings at all.

Mateo:

You and mateo don’t like to fight, things get heated and he does t quite know how to dial it down once he get to that point. The argument was pretty dumb, you two couldn’t even remember why you were mad.

“You always do this!” You snapped out, your angry tone making him twitch lightly the noise making his head spin..he couldn’t handle yelling, it reminded him of his childhood.

“What do I do wrong? I love you! I worship the ground you walk on but it’s never enough!” He hissed out with a shaky bitter laugh “I-it’s like you hate me..” he whispers out lowly.

“I do hate you! I hate your stupid spotted face! I wouldn’t be so angry all the time if i was dating someone smart but instead I get you! You’re so stupid and dumb and ugly!” your anger startled him.

Mateo was silent as he looked at his arms in utter horror, the sight of the pale splotches all over his body made tears run down his face, you thought he was stupid..everyone thought he was stupid.

Mateo did the only thing that made him feel better..sob his eyes out now scratching at the blotches, blood dripping down his arms. “What the hell are you doing?!” You snapped out in annoyance.

“I-if I carve them out then you won’t hate me, r-right?! If I just carve them out then I’ll stop being ugly?!” He hissed out with a whimper as he dropped onto his knees suddenly biting and clawing at his skin

“I hate myself, stupid stupid stupid!” He sobbed out, suddenly letting out loud wailing of sorrow as he banged his head on the ground “stop..being..stupid!” He snapped out with each hit, the sickening cracking noise startling you.

Hikaru:

Angering Hikaru was an easy job, simply talk back and an argument is crafted but this time was different. You were done cowering in fear, he hurts you so many times that it was time for payback.

“Damn it, piggy I’m talking to you! Stop fucking ignoring me!” He snapped out before gripping your arm, yanking you closer only for you to slap his hand off utter disgust in your eyes.

“Maybe if you weren’t an annoying little shit you parents wouldn’t have whored you out when you were just a toddler!” You snapped out, Hikaru tensed up body shaking as he stared at you in shock.

“W-what..” he whispers out softly, the anger that was once in his voice replaced with a soft hurt tone. “The only thing you’re useful for is being a quick fuck! It’s not like anyone will actually love you, so why don’t you go and do the only thing you’re good at, leave me the hell alone while you’re at it” you sneered out.

There was a few seconds of silence before a soft sniffle escaped Hikaru who now held his head down in shame. All those filthy feelings he felt before came rushing back to him.

“I-I’m only good for..” he whispers out before starting to cry, Hikaru was someone who prides himself in not sobbing but here he was crying “I-is that all I’m really good for?! B-being a whore?!” He hissed out.

All that modeling work he’s done was to put his own name out there but none of that mattered, all he would ever be known for was a dirty whore..the utter thought drove Hikaru insane.

Yuuji and Yuuta:

You wanted them to hurt, like how they always hurt you. You knew exactly where to hit and how hard to hit it. “Come on, you have to eat..p-please” Yuuta begged out as he tried feeding you. You were extra bratty so they had to tie you up, something that happened quite often. You were silent, making Yuuta sigh as he untied you “here, now will you eat?”

“You’ll never be a real boy yknow..” you whispered out to him, that single statement making Yuuta freeze up..eyes wide as he stared at you in shock “wait..h-huh?” He said lowly with a forced smile “is this a joke or-”

“You’re just a girl playing dress up, a little girl who is still scared of her family” you said coldly as you rubbed your wrists. “S-stop, that’s not true..I’m a boy, a-a strong guy! So just stop it” Yuuta snapped out, body shaking as you stepped towards him with no fear.

“No matter what you say, you still have that slight feminine figure, girly face, and of course the obvious..the parts of a girl. You’ll never actually be a boy.”

Yuuta felt his chest tighten up, he hasn’t felt dysphoria in years but that horrible feeling made him wheeze as your words drilled into his head. His hands went straight to his chest, they were gone but for some reason it’s almost as if he could still feel them there..not enough. He didn’t feel masculine at all.

“No, n-no no no you’re wrong, I-I’m a..I’m a..” Yuuta couldn’t even say it without starting to cry, his head was starting to hurt as he panicked. “I-I need…Y-Yuuji!” Yuuta sobbed out, it was only a matter of seconds til the younger twin came rushing to his aid. “Woah! Hey, Y-Yuuta?! What’s wrong, are you hurt?” Yuuji hissed out as he hugged his brother close to his chest.

“I-it’s back! I-it’s back, I-I can’t take it. I’m a boy right?! I-I’m a boy..n-not a girl..” Yuuta was an utter mess, sobbing and shaking as he clinged to Yuuji’s shirt. “Of course you are! You are the strongest guy I know, so please..stop crying” Yuuji whispers out, angry tears in his eyes as he glared your way.

“What the fuck did you do to my Yuuta!?”

Yuki:

“Please stop screaming..” yuki whispers out lowly as he looked away, flinching at every time your voice raised. “I can’t handle you screaming..” he added out as he glanced your way. You were screaming at him about something..the moment you started to yell he completely forget what you were mad at and was just focused on getting you to stop.

“Stop giving me those puppy dog eyes as if you are so damn innocent and pure! You have a rotting demon in you you, you can never be good! All you do is destroy and ruin thing!”

Your words made yuki shudder, eyes wide as he processed your words. “Demon..?” He whispers out with a shaky sigh, how could you be so cruel?! Yuki hugged himself, a low laugh escaping him which quickly turned into soft sobs that only got louder the more hurt he became.

Of course, he was a demon how could he forget that..he wasn’t supposed to be born! Yuki, who was now on his knees sobbing his eyes out bowed at your feet.

“K-kill me, im begging you” he said softly now looking up at you with the most distraught expression. “Im a lowly demon not worthy of living, j-just a filthy abomination” he hissed out as he looked at his hands. The reason he loved drawing and doing tattoos was cause he adored the thought of creating art..but if you deem him a demon it must be so.

Rin:

Rin was someone who usually laughed instead of cried, but you knew exactly where to push to get him to sob and break. “Are you trying to make me mad? Pfft silly thing that won’t work” Rin cooed out with a laugh as he watched you only get angrier.

“God you are so fucking childish! That’s why I’m glad I cheated!” You snapped out, making him pause his laughing his expression faltering “h-huh?” He said with a forced grin, your statement surprising him. “Your brother is a way better lover than you anyways, in all aspects” you sneered out.

“H-hey if you are trying to make me mad, it’s working so just stop.”

“What part are you not getting!? I don’t love you, I won’t ever love you so just leave me alone already!” You snapped out angrily, there were a few seconds of silence before rin flashed a grin “wowww~ someone’s grumpy! I’ll let you get some air but afterwards we’re talking bout this okay??” He cheers out before walking off.

A sniffling escaped him as he walked off, now covering his mouth with his hand as tears ran down his cheeks, the thought of you with ren in the most intimate ways made both rage and sorrow filling his body..he wanted to puke.

Salem

Salem didn’t really focus on your insults too much since they were surface level. He would shrug it off and continue to be his normal wild self, that was until you two really got into it.

“This is why no one wanted you! Why every person who got close to you gave you away! Who would ever choose you!” Your angry remark made Salem flinch, now biting at his fingers that he was sucking on before.

He was silent now chewing on his hand as he thought about what you said..it was true. His mother, Hikaru, you, who would ever want him? Salem let blood drip down his chain as he tried to contain himself but laughter escaped him, he calmly walked to the nearest wall now slamming his head against it.

He hated these thoughts, he wanted to go away. He just wanted all these gross feelings to go away already, he hated thinking..so if he hit his head a few more times he wouldn’t have to think and feel anymore. His laughter only for more crazed yet sad as he slammed his head against the wall over and over. “Go..away, go away…” he cried out over and over as tears streamed down his face.

Zeke:

“You need to calm down, you’re getting worked up here!” Zeke snapped as he eyed you worriedly. You two were fighting and you were getting a little too angry, he was worried about saying something he didn’t mean.

“You are so fucking gullible! Do you have any balls or something!? You try to play the nice guy but it wasn’t prince who killed all those people! It was all you! Just you! And I’m starting to think you liked it! So stop pretending to be good and so damn innocent”

Zeke tensed up, taking a step back as your words hit him. “W-why the fuck would you say that?!” He hissed out, that wasn’t true..he wasn’t bad. He was a good guy! He went to protests he donates to charities, he’s sweet and loving he does all he can to be a good person! Even still with all that the memories of that night are still so fresh.

“I-I’m a good guy..I’m a good person” he said softly as tears ran down his face, a shaky laugh escaping him “I’m a good person I’m a good person I’m a good person” he whispers out again and again, now looking to you for comfort “I’m a good person right?!” He said with a devastating expression.

“No, you’re not. You are a horrible awful person, worse than prince” You said shrarply, the final nail in the coffin.

Zeke gulped as he felt an overwhelming sarrow, more tears and cries coming from him. “N-no no no no..y-you’re wrong..so wrong” he sobbed out, the mixture of laughing and crying coming from him

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere

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ilikekidsshows · 3 years ago

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I edited the ask slightly to make it clear this is about apologists making excuses for Chloé's behavior and not fans who just feel frustrated over not getting an arc they wished to see.

Anon said: I think what really annoys me is Chloe apologists that cry she’s, “just a kid she can learn to be better and outgrow her abusive tendencies” seem to gloss over or ignore that Chloe has been given MULTIPLE chances to do better for 3 seasons and at every turn she always returns to her spoiled bratty bullying ways. Especially in season 3 where she didn’t listen to Ladybug about never getting the miraculous and felt entitled to the power.

It’s just so annoying how chloe apologists act like she’s the real victim just cause her mommy doesn’t love her, news flash she’s not the only character in the show who has a bad relationship with a parent. It doesn’t give Chloe the right to degrade and abuse people. Im not sure if Chloe needs to hit rock bottom before she turn things around or this is heading towards a corruption arc. However im also annoyed when parts of her fandom claim it’s misogynistic that she doesn’t get better.

Because sometimes bad people stay bad and never get better, it would be a very powerful lesson to teach kids who are in toxic abusive relationships especially with childhood friends that sometimes you have to let them go and cut them off because they’re causing you harm. It was very powerful of Adrien to stand up to Chloe multiple times as an abuse victim and not let her drag him down to her level. All the people mad at him for queen banana don’t realize that Adrien can’t make chloe a kinder person. No one can make someone mean good.

Plus the show is chock full of actual good and kind girls with positive supportive friendships so having one or even two female characters turn out bad isn’t sexist to me. Same with people who claim Zoe is a Mary Sue and it’s wrong that she’s replacing Chloe. Which is weird because Zoe can’t replace what Chloe never was, a friend to the main cast. Chloe was never close with the class or their friend even if she tried to be involved in their projects he never tried to get along with the others.

Plus Zoe made a mistake by trying to emulate her family and be a bully but eventually realized being awful like them wasn’t worth their approval. Whether she’s a better hero or deserves the miraculous is another discussion but we’re talking about Chloe here. If she continues down the path of selfishness and hate becoming like her mother and her sister Zoe, who also comes from an abusive family, doesn’t that just means one overcame their trauma and the other didn’t.

Sorry for the rant just I’m so tired of seeing the tag be cluttered up by Chloe apologists who won’t stop crying or complaining about her character.

With what the canon actually gave us, Chloé's arc could have gone, and could still go, either way on the redemption/corruption scale. Yes, Chloé messed up royally in the season three finale, but she was under duress to a degree. While Chloé showed few signs of becoming a selfless hero, since most of the people she helped as a hero were people she put in bad situations to begin with or she helped out to get to hang out with Ladybug, she's also showed no signs of becoming a true villain the same way Lila has. We can clearly see Lila developing into a supervillain, but Chloé is very much stuck in the middle and could go either way if she suddenly got superpowers with no strings attached.

The real issue here is Chloé's civilian life. She's never been kind to her classmates and goes out of her way to make sure they have a bad time. This has never been influenced by whether or not she had a Miraculous, so obviously something not-superpowers-related needs to happen for her to see anything wrong with what she's doing.

And there's a real chance Zoé is meant to be that thing that makes Chloé see. Chloé could see how her sister was forgiven and welcomed by her classmates and realize how easy it is to stop being awful and get validation and friendship from the class that way. This realization might make her look down on the class as gullible fools, like Lila, or it might make Chloé want to belong and try to adjust her behavior, having her follow Zoé's lead.

Of course there's still a chance that Chloé will just keep swinging between sitcom arch nemesis and not-quite-a-supervillain, that she'll still be used as a civilian life obstacle for the heroes to overcome and she's not meant to be redeemed or corrupted. In this case I can see this fandom discourse continuing for years to come, since it's the uncertainty of Chloé's role that's fuelling it so much.

Crying misogyny every time your favorite female character is treated in a way you don't like, when it’s used in a way that’s clearly just a buzzword meant to manipulate people, is something I'm just so done with. In the case of Miraculous, though, it's especially misguided, with how much the creators clearly try to be feminist. It's one thing to say something they did fails at that goal and leans into sexist attitudes and another to say they're being purposefully misogynistic because the show isn’t to your tastes. Because, let’s face it, a lot of the show’s attempts at being progressive have been tone deaf, but it usually seems to happen by accident and sometimes, at least with Fei’s design, they seem to be willing to amend a mistake when it gets pointed out.

Also, because sexism and feminism are about gender politics, the thing with discussing sexism is not actually comparing a female character with other female characters, it's about comparing a female character with male characters. If a show aims for gender equality, a character's gender can't influence how they are treated. This means we need to see if we can compare Chloé's character to a male character and find equality.

And we can. Miraculous Ladybug has a male character who causes others pain on purpose. This same character has several chances to stop being awful with "not being awful" costing him nothing. He even shows a softer side in 'Style Queen', just like Chloé in that same episode, but ultimately tosses that change aside when he finds something he thinks can help him gain his goals, like Chloé does in 'Miracle Queen'.

I am of course talking about Gabriel Agreste. I have repeatedly said that Marinette and Chloé are mirrors, what the other could be if they changed how they view other people and themselves. Gabriel is a foil to Marinette, so he naturally mirrors Chloé as well. However, Gabriel's arc has a similar forwards-and-backwards beat as Chloé's does. Even Chloé Apologists recognize the similarities between the two, since I've seen them voicing concerns that Gabriel might get redeemed while Chloé doesn't, because they think Gabriel having sympathetic aspects is a sign of a redemption arc for him like it supposedly was for Chloé. Instead, they are still both firmly in the area of antagonists and villains.

Although I will concede one key difference: Chloé is still way more likely to get redeemed than Gabriel.

I also think that, even if Chloé does get redeemed eventually, it’s still important that Adrien didn’t just hang on waiting for it when she spent so long proving again and again that she didn’t want to change. Because the other characters couldn’t know for sure if Chloé would change. Just like in the real world you won’t know for sure if your toxic friend will ever change, so you might have to let them go for your own sake. Even if they might get better one day, even if you’re not their target, it’s not on you to stand by them when they do things that are against your personal ethics.

#ml fandom salt #long post

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twilitty · 4 years ago

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Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper #the twilight saga #carlisle #twilight saga #smeyer #2008 #twilight renaissance #bella/jacob #jacob/bella #jacobxbella #bellaxjacob #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

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Hi!💜 Your theories about jikook not being together during a portion of the ON era are interesting. It seemed like they were vibing together in some bits we saw in that era. Like a level of intimacy and comfort (like when they 'played hide and seek' during that sirius radio interview in the states, when jk wouldnt shut up about🎶jm jm yeah jm🎶. What are you seeing that i am not?

Oh lord! Uhmm...

I honestly don't know the answer to your question quite frankly. It's not a competition is all I can say.

We see from our experiences not from our sight? From our intuition not our vision? So, I don't know. We are all experiencing Jikook differently and perceiving them differently is what I think. Some see Jikook and see two brothers, some see them and see two best friends. We see them and see two lovers. What do we see that they don't?

The answer wouldn't matter because at the end of the day, it's all just theory and opinions and not facts. Until Jikook themselves come out as LGBTQ plus and in a relationship with eachother nothing we say here about them matters.

You don't need to see what I see to have an opinion on Jikook or feel your opinion on Jikook is valid. And I don't need to convince you of my opinion for my opinion to be valid.

I am not in this to convince anyone of my opinion about Jikook. Let me set that record straight. And all these concerns about brainwashing people... how stupid do y'all think people are? Yall keep talking as if shippers are dumb and gullible and don't have the brains to distinguish between people's opinions and actual fact. That's very presumptuous, obnoxious and condescending quite frankly. People have brains you know? Chilee.

Mine is just to support Jikook the best way I can- which is to treat them as people and individuals, not fantasies. Thus, I do not want to engage in and will not engage in any argumentative discussions about what these kinds of moments are and what they mean. At the very least we can agree to disagree.

And if it's my opinion you want, I think I have already exhausted this topic across several posts so you can kindly refer to that. Quiet frankly I would rather read your opinion about the topic at this point- Jikook in that era or the era before it. So please share your thoughts as well.

My belief about Jikook don't cancel yours, nor does yours cancel mine- if it did there would be only one ship in BTS and yet here we are amongst a sea of ships all waving the 'it is real' flag.

And these moments you mention are/were very cute and honey I love them too uWu- but are they moments you consider as indicative of two people in an intimate, sexual relationship with eachother? I gotta ask.

Or did you just miss everything else that was happening within that period from their trip to New York and back to S.K?

I think the moments you mention are really cute interactions and there is even much more cuter interactions within that period- my favorite of which would be Teleporter Jeon teleporting his ass from next to Tae all the way to his man because a certain Idol behind him was getting too close- uWu!

I rate teleporter Jeon much higher on my Jikook is real assessment tab than the moments you mention because that is right of authority and claiming right there.

But the moment you mentioned, honestly if I see two people in other ships do it too I am not gonna yell they are a couple you know? And if you wouldn't consider any other ship that did that in BTS to be real too when they do it, then why ask me to believe Jikook is real just because they do these kinds of things?

I mean Jikook is also a tradship like any other ship in BTS after all. And people are going to swoon over their skinship and interactions each time and lament when they think they are not interacting or doing much skinship. But none of that is proof Jikook is real. To me.

I think a distinction ought to be made here between Jikook the tradship and Jikook the alt-ship. To see what I see in Jikook as an alt-shipper, you would have to also be an alt-shipper or at least a tradshipper with an open mind. It's as simple as that.

Jikook in On era is just the climax to a series of tensions between them starting in November 2019 that had nothing to do with Jikook as a couple but was affecting their dynamics anyway. I said I felt it was a period of JK trying to push back against the group putting a leash on them and censoring their interactions in public etc. I said I felt Jimin wasn't there with him- on the same page I mean and I tried to talk about GCF Helenski, MMA 2019 and all that Jazz.

I kept referring to JM as very Kumbaya in nature who would put the interest of the group above his or even JK's and would often shade him for it and joke about it. But after reading his Weverse magazine interview where he talked about doing things to please people because he wants to be loved- I don't find it funny anymore.

And I kept saying I felt JK was trying to assert himself against Jimin and the group. That Jikook in this period had been trying to assert themselves against eachother and against the group and I'm glad Jimin talked about trying not to be a people pleaser as much and focusing his energy on people who love him- I think I need to take his advice. I'm glad to see him show this level of growth and maturity but I don't trust him. Lol. He isn't exactly known to be one to keep the promises he makes to himself- if what the members say about him is anything to go by. Sigh. But I support this agenda. Self love is everything. You go Park Jimin!

Let's just hope he doesn't relapse because if he do he and Kook are gonna have a problem. In my opinion.

People often see JM as very nurturing of JK but JK pushes JM to be a better person too. That's one way he nurtures Jimin. And I don't have proof of this, but I believe in my heart of hearts based on everything I've seen and said so far about them, that Jikook make each other better individuals. They are perfect for eachother and I support them.

Just as JK, I think, pushes JM to be emotionally assertive, JM pushes JK to be emotionally vulnerable and less possessive- it seems of late.

If you missed all of that happening in the background then certainly On era would fly over your head too. So you can start there.

You can start reflecting on Jikook's moments as individuals who don't exist to feed ships, to try and understand the motivations behind their interactions as humans because that's what I do as an alt-shipper. And when I do and draw conclusions about them, those conclusions are not facts or meant to be. They are just my opinion. I could very much be wrong about them. But it is still my opinion. What's your opinion of them? Whatever it is, it's valid too.

Then there is the whole BigHit releasing content out of order thingy and so you would have to look at all of that and try and reconstruct those too- which is something I do a lot. It is why I haven't commented much on Jikook post JM's birthday. I simply haven't seen enough to theorize on the state of their relationship in this era. When I do I will post a comprehensive theory and analysis and ruffle some feathers while at it. Lol.

Ever wondered why in one moment JM seems to be leaning forward in their relationship, 'acting clingy," chasing JK and in the next JK is the one doing all clingy and the chasing? Their push and pull dynamics is it? Ever wondered why they have that going on with them? Or to you, that just happens?

It's not rhetorical I would like to know. Lol.

I think this trad vs Alt ship wars needs to stop. Let's stay out of eachother's business. It's not a competition. It's really not that deep. We can have our own biases but we can't battle it out with pens and keyboards because none of us know the truth about Jikook. Saying Jikook is not together is a theory just as much as saying Jikook are together. None is factual at all.

And if you believe they are together because believing they are human and can have issues will disrupt your fantasy of them then yikes- miss me with that. Tradship alert. Alexa play Jimin's sirens. Wwwuawwwuawwua. Lol.

And I get that to some people, it's their fantasies on the line, their egos on the line and they would want to protect these interests- but I'm not in the validation business. My ego is not on the line, my fantasies is not on the line. Jikook kills me as much as they heal me and guess what- I like it. Stock Holmes is real people. Lol.

Just do you. No one is right when it comes to Jikook. That's just the gist of it.

You talk about those moments as intimate... True. But intimacy to me is when Jimin, in a euphoric state turns instinctively to hug JK but stops himself as he did in the recent Grammy reaction video or even throughout the recent Runs- when he shot the hoop and won and turned around in excitement towards Kook but then didn't know what to do with himself. He is a physically affectionate person and he is used to a certain level of intimacy between him and Kook and that shows.

Intimacy is when JM reaches to kiss the top of JK's head but stops himself because he is in the middle of filming a run episode. Intimacy is JK reaching to touch Jimin in excitement, in Soop when they were playing puzzle or whatever, but stops himself because there are cameras filming.

You can't hide this kind of intimacy nor can you fake it. Your instincts will always give you away.

It's like that moment in the elevator from Bangtan Bomb when the doors were closing and Jimin was left behind and when JK noticed Jimin was not in there with them he panicked and yelled for them to stop the door from closing or something but it was too late. Probably pouted and glared at whoever didn't hold the door open for Jimin throughout that right- poor Kookie. Lmho.

Or when Jimin yelled at JK when JK was contemplating whether or not to join Jimin's team in Bon V or Run I don't remember which lol. He seemed like he had reached his limits there- now if you would excuse me, I have tears to shed.

When they exhibit these involuntary reactions in certain moments I think it speaks more of how close they really are and the level of intimacy between them not when they play hide and seek in a middle of an interview- that just shows they are goofy. It's nothing TaeJin haven't done or wouldn't do. Jin and Tae do same too. I mean they tried to kiss or whatever they were trying to do during the dynamite MV reaction VLive. I wouldn't say that is proof Taejin are dating eachother too.

But when one of them can't exercise a right of authority over the other like they often do when they are together together, or when they are not claiming eachother, minding their boundaries like they usually do most times, reassuring eachother when one of them clearly is seeking reassurance and validation or closeness or when the others around them suddenly stop respecting the right of authority either one of them has over the other- then that is a sign because all of these and a lot more I can't even get into is what makes them a couple. In my point of view and opinion.

Jikook are friends and lovers. They were friends before lovers. They were interacting and goofing around and trying to kiss and what not too when they were just friends. They were doing all of that before they starting getting into eachother- that's not a metaphor.

Unless, you mean to tell me they started dating from day dot? In which case I have no words. Skinship is not a sign Jikook is real.

Jikook is real, they try to play off most of their interactions as fanservice but they are real. And for Jimin, because 'the boy in love with the Maknae' is also a key aspect of his persona and a facade he hides behind to love JK, it's easy for him to act it up for the cameras.

Most people see this persona of Jimin too and I think it is why they dismiss his feelings for JK as bro love or even claim Jikook is fanservice. That what Jimin feels for JK is fanservice and they could be right but I just don't believe or share that view simply because I see what they see and more. You may not see that aspect of Jimin but that doesn't mean others don't. Perspective is everything.

It's why I said if you look at JM's way of expressing himself as the sole indicator that Jikook is real and prefer his way of expressing himself over that of Kookie that you've been played.

It takes two to tango. JK is part of that dynamic and he is also expressing his feelings for JM too- in a different less loud way. Jikook is not one sided. Jimin cannot be the only one carrying their relationship on his back. His feelings for Kook is not unrequited. Jimin just over expresses himself sometimes. Jk doesn't express himself enough but when he does it is much more louder and intense than Jimin- I'd say in my opinion but fuck it. I'm tired.

That kind of intimacy between Jikook is something I would consider with high regard in deciding whether or not two people are dating and not just their skinship or interactions. But to each his own.

BTS in general are a very intimate group. You can expect a certain level of closeness and familiarity between them- all of them including Jikook. But that in no way indicate they are dating eachother. Please, your honor. Thank you. Lol.

May be you should go back and reevaluate the timeline with the new content we've got and the new information and try not to latch on to the good stuff but critically examine all the questionable moments that happened within that time frame because dismissing all those clues is how Tae Kook is real and Yoonmin is real and VMin is real- ok not VMin, Tae wants him some piece of Jibooty but let's not talk about that. Lol.

If Tae kook is real it's unrequited, if VMin is real it's unrequited. If Jikook is real it's mutual and I can't be mad at that- it feels random but those who sent those asks would understand. Lol.

Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real. By real I mean HUMAN. Deuces.

Signed,

GOLDY

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twokinkybeans · 4 years ago

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Soulmates Aren’t Real - Soulmate!AU

Summary: Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real.

Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His "soulmate" will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes...

Or: Every time Tony nearly dies in the MCU canon, he sees and talks with Peter (who ages appropriately - aka during Iron Man 1, Peter is 6 years old, etc etc etc). It’s a little Cinderella like, if you ask me, aha!

Author’s note: Hi everyone! This started as a small idea that I just wanted to get out of my brain. Took me two Saturdays to write and it's barely edited, aha. I hope you enjoy it, though! <3 -Lien

Words: 3589

Warnings/tags: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate!AU, Mentions of death (a lot), Mentions of attempted near-suicide, read this however you like, I wrote this as Irondad.

Read Soulmates Aren’t Real on AO3!

Occasionally, Tony wonders how much he resembles Sherlock Holmes. He drinks a lot more than what’s probably healthy and he thinks faster than other people around him. Though, he is of the opinion that everyone deserves a chance, not all deserve kindness. He likes being alone, tinkering, and losing track of the days. He actually enjoys fucking up his sleeping patterns, since it means he’s being productive. He’s in a flow. He’s busy. Right now, he’s absolutely certain he’s Sherlock Holmes. The only reason being this one single thought that keeps bouncing through his head every time he scoffs and rereads the article in front of him. People are idiots. Tony would love to have a Watson by his side, but unfortunately for him, his soulmate has yet to show their face. Speaking of soulmates, the article is about just that. Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real. Those people who cheated death claim that some rando they meet is the one they saw when they nearly died. That they belong together. People cheated over this, saying that the person they saw when they died looked nothing like their current partner, or maybe like another friend. The study ripped apart tons of marriages and while that’s partially why Tony thinks people are idiots, there is another reason. The reason that is in the article he’s reading. Death therapy. Jesus Christ, who even came up with that shit? More and more people want to know who their soulmate is. If who they are with now is the right person. If they will ever meet them. If they already lost them. And so, they try to almost die. Drug abuse, waterboarding, even playing with electrical equipment and guns. Idiots. People are idiots. And this whole article is about some kind of soulmate cult where groups of twenty all try to get as close to death as they can just so they can get a glimpse of what their soulmate looks like. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. The people who organize those things are predators, aiming to get as much money out of people as they possibly can. Let them sign wavers that if they do die, which happens ninety percent of the time, the cult can’t be held accountable. Death rates have risen significantly since the study came out and it’s insane. Soulmates don’t exist and nearly dying for the sake of having a looksie at the true love of your life is psychotic. A money-grab, to scam people who are extremely gullible. And oh, boy, are there many gullible people on this hell of an earth. If only they knew all this crap was fake. So many innocent lives would be spared. Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His Watson will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes... ... Afghanistan. The deal was supposed to be the greatest Tony had ever shook hands on. And then everything went to shit. The missile. The explosion. Darkness. And then a fuck ton of pain, clawing at his chest. He could hear someone screaming but he wasn’t sure who. Was it… Was he screaming? God, it hurt. Ached. Burned. Scratched. He was gasping for air and he wasn’t sure if his body could hold out any longer- if he could hold out any longer. “Hello, there? Sir?” A small voice asks. Tony gasps and writhes, turning on his stomach before crawling up to be met with a boy. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. Cute. “Are you okay? Mister?” Tony brings his hand to his chest in an attempt to feel where the horrific pain is- was? It’s gone. He’s fine. When did that happen? Is he… Is he dying? Or is he already dead? “Hey, there, kid,” he sighs, somehow grateful that the hell he was in has passed. He doesn’t exactly want the child to be part of his panic, so he takes a glance at his seemingly infinite surroundings and casually asks his question. “Where are your parents?” The boy looks around, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows. He then turns to stare at Tony with his big eyes. “I dunno.” Tony moves so that he’s at eye level with the boy and studies him. It’s only then that it dawns on him that… Oh, God. Nope. No, this isn’t real. It’s stupid and fake and there’s no way this little kid could be his soulmate. It’s just his dying brain, giving him something to work with before he vanishes into nothingness. Normally, he wouldn’t get anywhere near children. They were quite the liability and honestly the epitome of contrast to his bombostuous life. His biggest fear has always been one of his bed partners showing up on his doorstep, carrying a baby. His baby. He has no time for that. Or well, had. Since it’s his last moments alive, he might as well indulge the imaginary kid. “How old are you?” The boy thinks for a second and then looks at his hands. He raises one, fingers stretched out, and then the other; just a thumbs up. “Six!” “Six?” Tony smiles. “That’s a big number.” “Mhm!” The boy nods aggressively. “Need two hands now.” He waves his little fist around and grins. He then looks down at his hands and looks back up. “How many hands do you need?” “A couple more than you do, kid,” Tony scoffs. “So, you’re like, really old?” Ugh. Kids. “Old enough to be your dad.” “You’re not, though!” “Thank God, no.” Tony sits down on his butt and pats the floor next to him. “Mind doing me a favor, kid?” The boy sits down next to him and pulls in his legs, resting his head on top of them. “Depends, Mister. I’m not actually allowed to talk to strangers.” He thinks for a second and then continues. “And you’re about as strange as it gets.” “Is that a compliment?” Tony chuckles. “Depends on who you ask.” The reply has Tony scoff a laugh, louder, and he throws his head back This kid… “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” The boy doesn’t reply. Instead, he hides his face to laugh himself. “So, the favor...” Tony starts, trying to get back the boy’s attention. “Hm?” “Just… Be kind, okay? If you really are out there… Life’s too short to-” Tony opens his eyes, confused. He takes a second to assess his location. He’s lying on something hard and uncomfortable and there’s this dull, continuous ache in his chest. He groans when he realizes… Guess I’m not dying anytime soon. ... He was terrifically wrong about that. The organization that put him and Yinsen in that cave were absolute monsters. Tony knew better than to struggle a dozen men with big guns unarmed, but when they brought him to the trough with water, he fought nonetheless. His head was pushed in. His body convulsed and though his brain was telling him to stay calm and simply hold his breath, he kept fighting the aggression from his captors. It wasn’t long before he saw flashes again. Of the same boy. “Mister?” The voice was muffled through the water in Tony’s ears. He wanted to yell at the boy, to look away from the trauma and ensure his safety, but whenever the kid became clear enough in his mind’s eye, he was pulled from the water for air, and then pushed back in, to start the process all over again… Nobody was to know. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about this… Unnamed boy in his lucid dream. Nothing happened. He didn’t even say what his captors did to him, though with the arc reactor now glowing in his chest, people assumed the worst. If they asked him whether or not he saw someone, his answer was always the same. “No.” Tony regretted not asking the kid for his name, but then, everything would’ve become too personal anyways. And soulmates aren't real. Even though Tony had seen the boy on multiple occasions at this point. He should just stop almost dying, to be honest. Though, with his new job as Iron Man, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off on that. He ignored the boy’s worried touch on his thigh when he was paralyzed after his ex-business partner/mentor ripped out his new heart. He tried to tune out the encouraging words as he crawled down to his lab to push the old one back in. The boy was only a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t be real. He. Isn’t. Real. ... Palladium poisoning. Great stuff. You know what’s even greater? Being haunted by the ghost of an eleven-year-old. Tony never got close enough to death to even be able to say hi to the kid and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed. The boy was still smaller than average. Clumsy, even. His glasses were cute, though. Red and gold. Iron Man themed. Adorable. He squeezed his eyes, trying to look through them. Maybe they were the wrong prescription? The first time Tony saw him was when he was in the bathroom. In true horror-style fashion, the nerdy boy appeared in the mirror. When Tony yelped and turned, the kid was gone. He then appeared for a brief moment on the side of the road when Tony was racing the Formula One. The billionaire nearly crashed his car when he did his double take. From then on, everywhere Tony went, the oblivious boy would be by his side. Not being dead enough to talk to the kid, also meant he wasn’t dead enough for the kid to see him. It was torturous to see the boy play and learn and grow without being able to be a part of it. Funnily enough, Tony still didn’t like children. He just… He liked the boy. And no, it wasn’t because the kid was his soulmate. Soulmates aren't real. ... Tony was certain flying the nuke into the wormhole would be a one way trip. He’d see the boy one last time, maybe even be able to say goodbye and satiate his need to know the boy’s name, before he’d kick the bucket. At least he’d die peacefully, knowing he stopped an alien war on earth and therefore protected the boy. Twelve. He should be twelve now. Why Tony even bothered to remember the kid’s age, he didn’t know. “Mr. Stark?” Tony’s vision blurs, the alien spaceship fading to black as his muscles lose tension and his suit gives up on him. He falls. But he doesn’t. “Yeah, kid, I’m here. For the last time.” Tony frowns as he pulls in his legs, seated on the floor. He sniffs once and looks up to see the boy sitting across from him. “Hopefully.” “Wait, you want to die?” The question was awfully direct, which makes Tony scoff. “I’ve seen you so often now…” The barely dead billionaire glances to the side. “That can’t be healthy.” He purses his lips. “Also, the healing process of coming back from the dead is a pain in my butt. Pardon my French.” “I like seeing you.” The boy fiddles with his fingers and looks down shyly. “Do you really see me? Like, for real real?” “I’m dreaming. It feels real, but I don’t talk about it with anyone.” The boy cocks his head and raises his shoulders casually. “I think we both think we’re each other’s imagination.” “Well, we are, aren’t we?” “Definitely.” The kid nods aggressively. He crosses his legs and looks at Tony through his long lashes. “Nobody believed me when I said I think you’re my soulmate because I dream about you. Then again, nobody nearly dies as often as you do.” They both chuckle, but the sound quickly fades. “They just think I idolize you a little too much.” The boy frowns and then straightens his back. “I mean, I do idolize you, I- I think you’re a genius! Your papers on Artificial Intelligence are groundbreaking-” “Kid- you’re twelve, you shouldn’t even be able to read those.”

“I…” The boy presses his lips on top of each other. “The books I have to read at school are boring.” He almost seems guilty about saying it. “Those papers are filled with big words, though. You understand all of it?” Tony stares at the boy in awe. “I Google things I don’t know, but context usually explains a lot.” A short, stunned silence settles between the two of them. Tony can barely believe how smart this boy is. He calls Tony a genius, yet he is a genius himself. People who graduated university, specialized in Artificial Intelligence, ask Tony to clarify his papers. So either the boy is messing with him, trying to seem big, or he’s actually incredibly bright. The thought alone makes Tony reminisce about the first time he met the boy, when he still had to use two hands to show Tony how old he was. That was six years ago. Six. He’s fairly certain the boy is a terrible liar, though. And he’s not lying now. Tony’s eyes open wide, every muscle in his body clenches at the sound of the Hulk’s roar right next to him. There was so much he still wanted to ask the boy. At least he was still alive. Maybe he’ll find him and if not, Tony hopes he’ll near-die again soon. ... He didn’t expect his own Malibu house crashing down on him and forcing him into the sea to drown being the way he’d go. He’d never been in a worse situation than this. There was no one there to save him. He’d die, never having met his soulmate. Who knows, maybe they’ll meet again in the afterlife, one day. Tony closes his eyes and lets the quiet wash over him as his suit shuts down. The silence is broken by a quiet sob. The sound brings Tony back to the half-afterlife present and he opens his eyes. The boy is sitting right in front of him again, crying visibly and audibly. “Hey, hey-” Tony moves forward to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” “I don’t want you to die, Mister Stark.” “What makes you think it’s for real this time?” “You just said it yourself,” he sobs. “There’s no one to save you now.” “You heard that?” The boy nods, face twisted. “Well, since I’m still here, I’m not gone yet,” Tony tries with a smile. The boy looks up, tears streaming down his face and shoulders slightly shaking. His red cheeks puff and he sniffs. “We haven’t even met-” The boy squeezes his eyes shut and pushes in, hugging Tony’s chest tightly. The man raises his arms in surprise, but hearing the kid sob, breaks his heart in ways he never thought possible. He embraces the boy and rests his head on top of his. “I can’t lose you too.” “Too?” Tony’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, trying to remain composed. “M-my parents-” Oh, no. Tony immediately pushes the boy away from his chest and ducks his head, forcing the boy to look in his eyes. “Kid, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’m going to meet you, ‘kay? Give me your name and I’ll find you.” “Promise?” “Promise.” The boy takes a second to collect himself and Tony wipes his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “My name’s P-” The second it dawned on Tony that he was still alive, but without the knowledge of the boy’s name, he wanted to cry. And so he did. He was in snowy Tennessee. Many, many miles from home. Who knows, maybe P is somewhere around here? This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. The boy has to be real. And Tony left him alone. Truly and utterly alone. Just as he is right now. He sobbed quietly as Jarvis shut down. It wasn’t long before he stood up, hugging himself, making the resolute decision that wherever he was, whatever was going to happen, he was going to live. For P. ... Harley filled up the hole P had left for the short while they spent together. Tony learned to care for him, but it wasn’t the same. All he could think about was the other brown-haired boy in the back of his mind. His soulmate. His P. After the whole Mandarin situation was dealt with, there was no way he could go looking for the now thirteen-year-old without seeming like a creep. P. That was all he knew about him. His name started with a P. First name? Last name? Nothing narrowed it down. He had to let it rest. He simply had to. But he couldn’t. For the first time in his life he felt like the people he once called idiots. But he couldn’t afford to die. Not with the boy out there waiting for him. And so, he shut the tab on his tablet, linked to the Death Therapy site. Maybe he wasn’t Sherlock Holmes after all. If only he could find his Watson. ... Sokovia was hell. He got so close to seeing his boy again. So close. But not close enough. He tried to reach for P, but their encounter was cut short. “Mr. Stark! Mr-” P yelled. “I’m P-! Don’t go, please! Please! My name-” “Kid!” “P-t-” It was torturous. Tony wished he could go back to when he didn’t care. When he didn’t think the boy was actually real. But he couldn’t. P is out there. Somewhere. And by God, Tony would find him. Whatever it takes. ... Spider-boy. Whoever it was, the web-slinger caught Tony’s attention. A young hero, wanting to help out the little guy. He was young, though. And so, Tony felt the need to be a mentor. To guide the young man into becoming the hero everyone would root for. That and whatever the boy was wearing was absolutely unsafe for the job. Tony wanted to give the kid something he could work with to make it all safer for everyone. Plus, he needs someone Steve would go easy on, should Berlin go South. Pepper did most of the research and the phone call went by quickly. Tony didn’t really feel like talking anyways. “Alright, so he lives on 15th street. I’ve texted you the building and the address.” “Thanks, Pep.” Little did she know Tony was already at the front door. “Oh, and his name is-” “Bye, Pep.” He hung up and knocked. The door was opened by a lovely woman in her late forties. Of course, she immediately recognized him and let him in, offering him a seat on the couch. “My nephew is probably your biggest fan,” she yelps, clapping her hands with excitement. “You are here for him right? He applied to your scholarship a couple weeks ago.” “Yes!” Tony clears his throat. “That’s exactly what I’m here for.” He raises his eyebrows and continues his lie. “He got the scholarship, so I wanted to let him know personally. As I… eh, I do with all other people who got it.” Not every hero shares their identity with the ones they’re close with. It’d be better for Spider-guy if Tony played it safe. ... Not much later, the door opened again. Tony looked up with a smile, knowing it’d be the friendly neighborhood hero he was going to recruit. His expression faltered when he saw the boy’s face. His boy’s face. P. That’s P. “Ah, perfect timing!” May exclaims cheerfully. “Look who’s here to see you!” Tony blinks and clutches his chest. He’s having a heart attack, isn’t he? He’s dying. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Peter seems just as taken aback, seeing the billionaire of his dreams - quite literally - on the couch with his aunt. After a short while of amazed silence, May breaks it. “What’s up with you two all of a sudden? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost!” They can’t help ignoring her. Tony slowly stands up and shuffles closer to the boy who drops his backpack to the floor. “Mr-” “Say your name-” Tony whispers, inching closer and closer until he invades Peter’s personal space. “Please, tell me your name.” Peter looks up at him, wide-eyed, flustered. His lips part, but he swallows before he speaks. “Peter. My name is Peter Parker.” P. Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. Holy- It fits. Everything fits. Sherlock has found his Watson. Everything feels so insanely right in this moment. Tony slowly raises one hand, placing it on Peter’s fast beating heart. Peter curls both hands around Tony’s and opens their palms, sandwiching Tony’s hand between his. “Need three hands,” Peter mutters. “Four soon.” He moves his hands to Tony’s chest, feeling the scar of where his arc reactor used to be push through the fabric of his dress shirt. “You’re not dying again, are you?” Peter asks quietly, almost scared. “No, kid,” Tony sighs. Content. Finally. “I think this is real.”

#irondad #soulmate!au #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man #ironman #fanfiction #marvel #mcu

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divineshadows · 3 years ago

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* 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻 repost, don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Emil Castagnier TITLE. Knight of Ratatosk NICKNAME. n/a PRONOUNS. he/him or they/them HEIGHT. 5′6″ AGE. 16 ZODIAC. help i can’t decide and no canon bday SPOKEN LANGUAGES. aselian common

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. blond EYE COLOR. green typically, red in ‘ratatosk mode’ SKIN TONE. tanned BODY TYPE. more on the lean side, but still muscular VOICE. typically pretty soft-spoken, but a lot more rough and firm when in ratatosk mode. DOMINANT HAND. right SCARS. a star-shaped mark above his collarbone TATTOOS. n/a BIRTHMARKS. n/a MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). ahoge

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. Palmacosta HOMETOWN. Palmacosta SIBLINGS. none PARENTS. Lana and Reysol Castagnier

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. does odd jobs for people CURRENT RESIDENCE. archimedes CLOSE FRIENDS. his monsters, ori, honestly the list is probably bigger than he realizes but he has anxiety RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single FINANCIAL STATUS. broke. DRIVER’S LICENSE. nope CRIMINAL RECORD. has done nothing wrong in his life ever VICES. none really

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

ORIENTATION. biro-ace LOVE LANGUAGE. physical contact. honestly just hold his hand and you’re his friend for life. also, cooking. if you’re his friend he’s making you absolutely delightful meals all the time. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. he’s very uncertain of himself to start, but he’s an extremely loyal and caring person. When he’s in a relationship, that means he trusts that person enough with all of who he is, even the parts he worries about- and in turn, he’ll do the same for them. He’s protective of those he loves, and he’ll also go out of his way to ensure his partner is happy and safe. While Emil can certainly be naïve, and he really doesn’t have any experience on the topic of ‘love’, he’s still going to do his best to do good by his partner.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. this is his ost theme, and i also like this song from his playlist of mine! HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. looking after his monsters and journaling LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right FEARS. everything. rejection, people he cares for being hurt or dying, being left alone, not being wanted, making people mad at him SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. not great, VULNERABILITIES. he’s certainly naïve and a bit gullible as a result. He’s just... a very trusting person, but that means that trust can absolutely be betrayed, and leave him hurt as a result.

#✩ / memories of travel { OOC }#✩ / DASH MEMES

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years ago

Note

Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck.

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person).

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

#long post anon #autumn-foxfire #let's talk hawks

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 6

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2400 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

***

The moment Billy spotted you and Roger sitting at the corner table, his mood soured. The two of you were engaged in deep conversation, his chair next to yours so you could study his Ipad as he showed you something on it. You nodded at times, your focus entirely on the screen, and every once in a while Roger would smirk at you like he was imagining you naked. It pissed Billy off so much he had to fight the urge to go over and sucker punch the fucker.

For someone so brilliant, he wondered how you could be so gullible when it came to Roger. How could you not notice the guy was hardcore hung up on you? Not that Billy could blame him for falling for you. But you should have exercised more caution and not socialized with the prick outside of work. After all, you had a stellar reputation within the industry to protect and the last thing you needed was for people to wonder if you moved up so quickly due to your own merit or your relationship with Roger. You worked hard and deserved all the recognition you received and it wasn’t fair to you that people would question your brilliance. Except you didn’t seem worried about that at all which infuriated Billy.

“Which one are you spying on?”

Hearing Dinah’s question, Billy dragged his attention away from you and back to the brunette sitting in front of him. Usually they hooked up every few weeks but ever since the gala, neither had reached out to the other. When she’d called this morning wanting to meet up and talk, he’d suggested meeting at Piatti.

“Him or her?” Dinah prodded.

“Both,” he replied, intending to cast a quick glance in your direction only to find you smiling at Roger the prick. A beautiful, dazzling, flirtatious smile that would unmistakably give the asshole the wrong idea about you.

“Billy, are you okay?” Dinah asked, watching him with concern.

“Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“You look angry.”

He shook his head, plastering on a fake smile. “You worried about me, Madani?”

“Should I be?”

“Be careful. I might start to think you’re falling for me.” He leaned in closer, reminding himself how easy it was to be with her. He and Dinah always had a good time, the sex was great, and there were no complications in the relationship. She didn’t crawl into his head and take up permanent residence the way you had. She didn’t demand things of him he wasn’t prepared to give. The arrangement with Dinah was simple, casual and perfect, just the way he preferred.

“About that…” Dinah cleared her voice. “We need to stop seeing each other.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Because I’ve met someone.”

Dinah’s words barely registered in his mind as he noticed you walking away from the table and heading for the staircase that led downstairs. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Billy walked across the restaurant, following the same path you did. The restrooms were located on the level below, and once he reached the floor, he found it empty. Leaning against the wall next to the women’s bathroom, he waited for you to come out. When you exited a few minutes later, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him. Right away you started struggling, kicking him, attacking him, even starting to scream if not for his hand covering your mouth. It took a few seconds for Billy to subdue you and it was then he spotted the sheer terror on your face. When you pushed him off this time, he stepped back right away.

“What are you doing?” Your hand was on your chest, your breathing rapid as you struggled to catch your breath.

Billy felt horrible. You were rightfully jumpy since the incident yesterday. “Shit. I wasn’t thinking-”

“I thought you were him!”

“I know. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” Outwardly you seemed to be calm again but he sensed it was a façade, especially when he saw how your hands were shaking. “Let me?” he urged, seeking your permission to hold you. When you didn’t say no, he moved in closer to wrap his arms around you.

At first you stiffened, just like you had yesterday, but then you leaned into the hug, snuggling your face against his chest with your arms looped around his waist. He breathed you in, offering you comfort but also trying not to get excited at how good you felt in his arms. Instinctively he caressed your hair, pressing light kisses on your forehead and the top of your head. You squeezed your arms around him, as if trying to fuse yourself with him.

He could have stood there forever, simply holding you, inhaling in the scent of your shampoo, your perfume and getting lost in your essence. Somewhere in his brain he knew how ridiculous this was, he was acting like a goddamn teenager with a first crush, but at that moment it didn’t matter. None of it did. He just felt content. “You’re okay,” he murmured. “Not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You sound like you actually care,” you replied, your voice muffled against his jacket.

“Maybe I do.”

Disappointment surged through him when you pulled back to look at him, but he took comfort in the fact you were still locked in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

Billy realized you hadn’t seen him upstairs, like he’d assumed, which meant you weren’t aware he’d come with Dinah Madani. “Work thing.”

“And you just happened to choose this restaurant?”

“Why not? You got exclusive rights to this place or something?”

“You heard me mention this place to Roger last night when you were eavesdropping.”

“It’s not eavesdropping if you have the conversation right in front of me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you hate him so much? Is this really a Valiant vs. Anvil thing? Or do you guys have some kind of history that I don’t know about?”

Billy’s eyes drifted down to your lips. “I don’t hate him. I don’t even know the guy. It just bugs me that you think he’s so great.”

You stilled, sounding almost breathless. “Why?”

“If he did his job properly, you wouldn’t have a gun pulled on you yesterday,” he snapped, agitated at the thought of you in danger. “But you don’t seem to give a damn about that.”

“He’s not the one responsible.”

“And now you’re defending him.”

You exhaled a heavy sigh, bringing your hand to your chest to rub your skin nervously. The gesture immediately drew Billy’s attention to your breasts as your fingers inadvertently pulled down the already low-cut neckline of the cashmere sweater you were wearing. Visions of your naked breasts danced through his mind, reminding him of how close he’d come to fucking you yesterday. It had taken every bit of strength he possessed to refuse you. If you’d been anyone else, he sure as hell wouldn’t have, but you were terrified and in pain and he didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable. He wasn’t that big of an asshole. Of course none of those valid reasons helped with the hard-on after.

“Stop staring at my breasts, Billy.”

“Just remembering last night,” he drawled, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from your breasts to meet your eyes.

“When you turned me down?”

“Because it wasn’t me you wanted to fuck. Anyone would’ve done.” Billy tried to smooth the edge in his voice but the bitterness was still there, present in his tone.

Regret washed over your face, surprising him. “You’re right. That wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

He reached out to tuck a loose curl of your hair behind your ear. How was it that he’d spent months without ever knowing you and now it had barely been a week since you let him in and you already felt like a part of him? “Next time you’re naked in front of me, I’m not being a hero,” he warned. “I will fuck you.”

You chuckled. “There isn’t going to be a next time. You lost your chance, Billy.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirked.

You quirked your eyebrow, a wicked smile on your face. “You think Roger would’ve turned me down?”

The smirk on Billy’s face disappeared at the thought of you fucking Roger. No, not just Roger. Anyone else. He advanced forward. “Don’t provoke me, Y/N.”

You stared up at him defiantly. “But it’s not like you get jealous, right?”

He grasped your chin, leveling you with a keen stare. “Stop.”

“Or what?” You taunted.

“Or I’ll carry you upstairs and fuck you senseless right in front of dear Roger.”

The hitch in your breath made him realize how much that idea aroused you, and he watched as your tongue delicately licked your bottom lip. God, your mouth. He remembered the last time your mouth was wrapped around his cock, sucking him off-

“You’re not jealous but you show up at the same place I’m having dinner with Roger. What were you planning to do? Sit at the bar and stare daggers at us?”

There was a smile tugging at your lips, you were teasing him. You liked having him there, and the thought made him ecstatic – except he remembered he wasn’t alone. Dinah was upstairs, you would see her soon, and knowing you would inevitably misinterpret the innocent dinner as something else made his insides twist with anxiety. He couldn’t bear the idea of you in pain.

Something in your eyes shifted, as if you’d read his mind. Just as suddenly, he sensed the change in your demeanor. A minute ago you were flirting with him and now your guard was back up. Immediately you moved away from him.

“You’re not here alone.” You gave him a small smile, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. “I don’t know why I thought you would be.”

Billy reminded himself he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about, it’s not like he’d ever promised you monogamy. Hell, you guys weren’t even in a relationship - but none of that helped ease the terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s not a date or anything. Just having dinner with a friend.”

“Friend?”

He hesitated to tell you, but you seemed to know already.

“Dinah Madani,” you answered yourself.

“Look, nothing’s going on. She was actually telling me how she’s seeing someone new.”

Your voice was filled with contempt. “Good for her. She deserves better than you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You were here with your precious Roger but you were pissed Billy had brought someone?

You were charging towards the stairs when you paused, turning back to look at him. “Every time I think you can’t be more of an asshole, you prove me wrong.”

“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine either, sweetheart,” Billy retorted, but you had already rushed up the stairs and disappeared from view. Angry, he marched upstairs. Dinah was texting on her phone when he returned to the table.

“Took you long enough,” she remarked.

“Sorry,’ he offered flippantly, chugging his drink.

“I’m guessing it’s not a co-incidence your mark came back a few seconds before you did?”

Billy cast you a quick look to find you sitting alone at the table, on your phone. “Let’s not talk about her. She’s not important,” he said dismissively.

“Really? Because I’ve never seen you wound up so tight.”

He reached for Dinah’s hand, sending her a seductive smile. “How about we get out of here?”

“I told you, I’m seeing someone.”

“So what? He doesn’t need to know.” He said half-heartedly, already losing enthusiasm for the offer he proposed. His gaze inadvertently returned to you. Roger the prick was back and you were fully engrossed in his eyes.

Dinah sent him a smirk. “You like her.”

“Sure,” he bit out sarcastically.

“No, you really do.”

“Are we in high school or something?”

“It’s serious. I can tell. Your eyes get all soft when you look at her.”

“That’s you looking at the world with your love goggles on.”

“Have you told her how you feel?”

Jaw clenched, he gestured the waiter to bring him another drink.

“So that’s a no then,” Dinah mused.

“I don’t want to talk about this with you, Madani.” He chugged the whiskey. Just then his phone rang. Grateful for the distraction, he pulled it out to answer it. “Billy Russo.”

“It’s Quentin. The guy you asked me to check up on? His family just posted bail. He’s out.”

Immediately, his eyes flew to you. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.” He scanned your face. A minute ago he would’ve been fuming that you were giggling with Roger but now Billy wanted to hold on to this moment and etch the memory of a happy you in his brain. “Dinah, there’s something I have to take care of.” He waved at the waiter to come over, and handed him his credit card. As he waited for the bill, he fired off a text to one of his contacts. It’s on.

“You mean her?” Dinah asked.

“Yeah,” he muttered, signing for the bill. “I have to give her some bad news.”

“Then you should also tell her how you feel. Give her something good to go with the bad.”

“You’ll be okay to get home on your own?” Billy asked.

“I’ll be fine.”

Dinah stood up to leave, but not before leaning over to kiss his cheek. It didn’t escape Billy’s notice how you glanced over at that very moment. Hurt flashed across your face but it disappeared quickly, and you turned back to Roger again.

As soon as Dinah left the table, he started making his way towards you. He sensed the second you were aware of his looming proximity because you tensed, despite the smile you maintained on your face.

“Roger, Y/N, how are you guys?” Billy greeted, putting on his most magnetic smile. He extended his hand out to shake Roger’s who returned his friendly greeting. When he turned to you, you offered him a stiff smile.

“Billy, how’s it going?” Roger asked.

“Great. Mind if I join you guys for a minute?”

“I’m actually leaving.” You slid out from behind the table, careful to keep your distance from him. “Roger, thanks for dinner. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Adam Preston’s been released on bail,” Billy announced.

You stilled, his eyes locked on you.

“Got any plans to protect your star asset, Rog? Or are you just gonna have her fend for herself?”

“Don’t,” you warned, glaring at him.

Billy leveled Roger with a smug glance. “Disgruntled employees. Shoddy security. Things are a real mess at Valiant, aren’t they? If Valiant can’t protect its employees, feel free to use Anvil. We’re more than capable.”

At least Roger had the gall to look embarrassed. “That won’t be necessary.”

As you stormed away, Billy turned to Roger. “Start with 24/7 protective detail on her. If you can manage that.”

He didn’t wait for a response, quickly rushing out of the restaurant to catch up with you only to find you waiting for him in the nearby alley. You were furious as hell, bristling with rage as he drew closer.

“What the fuck was that?” you demanded. “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to my boss like that?”

“I’m the one who got him to step up and take responsibility,” he yelled back. “Something he should have fucking done from day one!”

“You made me look like a helpless idiot in front of him. He’s my boss! I’ve spent years working my ass off so people actually take me seriously and you just completely shot that to hell!”

“Think I give a fuck about your job when some maniac is out to hurt you?” Billy raged.

“Stop acting like you give a shit about me, Billy, when we both know you don’t!” You started to walk away but he grabbed your arm from behind.

“You think I don’t care?” he roared, pulling you to him. “I wish I didn’t! I wish I didn’t give a fuck about you. My life would be hell of a lot easier if you weren’t in it.”

“Then stay the hell away from me!” You screamed, clawing at him. “Let me go, you fucking asshole!”

He was so furious he couldn’t think straight, his blood was boiling. So he did the only thing that could calm the rage in him. He shoved you against the wall and kissed you.

Part 7

As always, thank you so much for the likes, the reblogs, and especially the wonderful comments and asks you’ve sent me. Trust me, it makes my day and keeps me insanely motivated to keep writing. LOL.

I’m on vacay next week, and my plan is to lay on the Caribbean beach, relax under the sun, and write some dirty, angsty smut while also indulging in the same in real life :)

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, please drop me a note.

GIF source: @bilyrusso

Tag List

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine

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