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rendy-a · 8 months ago

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amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies. Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek. Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win? In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man. Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on. It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character. Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons? Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them. Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you.

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it. What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on? This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all. So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money? Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing. Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’ When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes. He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character. He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that? No, I’m not blubbering. No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me. Ok, fine. Just for a little while.

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it. Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement. Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet. He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties. Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too? Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler? Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack. If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along. It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore. Ooh! But come by the Pop Music Club later. I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it. He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch. He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki. You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone. A shot from below would be more effective. Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn? I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it. He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies. If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better. This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself. Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man. Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business! I’ve drawn up plans. So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend. True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them. For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows. So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you. Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show. Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations. A subway, how intriguing an idea. Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed. They can fly? Well so can he. Magic, lightning, superstrength? All just part of being a dragon. Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

Lilia, do you think I am a superhero? The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately. I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes. Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape. Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit

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sofmoth · 13 days ago

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Smooth Stuff

for her birthday, @strang3lov3 challenged me to write dennis reynolds, and to use his DENNIS system on the reader. naturally i’m nervy because who can do dennis but glenn howerton honestly??? and genuinely not to suck myself off but i feel like i met the brief LMAO

this is for all us dennisfuckers, dennisfucker nation stand up!!!

also posted to AO3 by me (@sofmoth), link here.

divider created by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

dennis reynolds x reader. WC: 2.3k

DO NOT BOTHER INTERACTING IF YOUR BIO IS AGELESS OR BLANK.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED ON SIGHT.

HEED ALL WARNINGS:

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. dennis is a literal sociopath, dennis is manipulative, dennis manipulates reader for sex, dubcon, reader is psychologically tortured, sober sex with a drunk person, reader gets drunk, canon-typical dennisisms, no confirmed relationship, use of the DENNIS system, smut. once more for the cheap seats, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

“My name’s Dennis, I’m collecting donations for the Boys & Girls Club.”

That’s how it started. He’d come in to ask if there were any old toys your store was about to throw out, and if you would consider donating them instead. Unfortunately not, you’d told him, but you were pretty sure you had a phone number he could call and he might have some luck with that. You’d written it down on a Post-It for him with the name of the person he should ask for, and then you handed him a Post-It with your name and number. You’d never been so bold before; something about him inspired that in you.

He called you every other night, and you talked for a few hours each time. It felt like nothing, talking to Dennis was as easy as breathing. He was charming, and funny, and he actually listened to you bitch about the day you had at work instead of interrupting every 38 seconds to talk about himself. Friday night, near the end of your call, he asked if you’d ever been to a restaurant called Guigino’s. He’ll be taking you on Sunday.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous walking to the restaurant with him; you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with him over the phone. He can probably sense your anxiety, hooking his arm into yours as you walk. You hear it before you see it, Dennis groans and you look up. A sign on the door reads CLOSED, and Dennis holds his face in his hand. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Unbelievable, I’m sorry. How about we take a rain check on this? We can grab a pizza or something and head back to my place, watch a movie? My roommate’ll be there but he keeps to himself. If that’s okay with you, of course.” You hum, bite your lip.

“Okay. It’s still Italian.” You stifle a nervous giggle and Dennis chuckles, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as you continue down the street.

As the apartment door opens you can see a man sitting on the couch, reading a book with the TV barely on. He must be Dennis’s roommate. Dennis clears his throat.

“Hey man. Do you mind taking that to your room? The restaurant was closed, we’d like to… y’know, get to know each other a bit. In private.”

“I’m not going in there.” Dennis’s jaw twitches.

“Why not?”

“I saw a black widow. I’m not going back in there.”

Dennis sighs, looks over at you.

“I mean, I guess we could take this to my room? Eat on the bed, watch a DVD in there?” You nod and he relaxes, smiling at you.

You sit on top of his covers with the pizza box between you, eating absently as you attempt to follow the movie. You’re not entirely sure what it is, but you think you recognize a few of the actors. You feel Dennis’s knee touch yours, looking over at him.

“Pretty good pizza.” He closes the box.

“Not the only good thing I’m looking at.”

God damn, does he fuck. You almost feel bad for his roommate, though the thought is immediately pushed from your mind as the head of his cock borderline bruises your cervix. His hand on your throat stifles your moans, your eyes roll back from the sensation. You’re practically folded in half, knees pressed closer to your shoulders than you ever thought possible, your arms around his neck as he kisses you messily.

Your legs start to tremble, toes curling as you feel the tension building in your belly. You knot your fingers in his hair, tugging hard as your back arches into his chest and you begin to see stars. He doesn’t slow down, if anything he fucks you harder, tears pricking at your lashes as the stimulation toes the line of too much. You silently thank God he had condoms, glad he won’t have to pull out and finish on you. His pace falters, hips stuttering as he grates out a near-rapturous “Oh, fuck.”

He pants against your neck, wincing as he pulls out. You prop yourself up on your elbows, legs still shaking You look him up and down, the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the wild look in his eyes nearly doing you in again. He tosses the spent condom down into the wastebasket by his nightstand, pulling his boxers up and laying on his back next to you. You look over at him, raising an eyebrow. He raises one back at you.

“Oh, really?”

The next evening after work, you find one of your tires almost completely deflated. You groan, inspecting the rubber and locating a sizable screw lodged between the treads. Fucking fantastic. You sigh, chewing on your lip. You’ve only been talking with him for a little over a week, and you don’t want to seem too needy, but you call Dennis anyway. Maybe he’ll be able to give you a ride to the auto shop at least.

He’s there in no time, happy to help. He even offered to change the tire for you. As he stands he wipes his hands on his jeans, kissing you quickly before replacing the jack in your trunk. You feel your cheeks heating up, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“I’ve got some stuff to do this week, so how about we go to Guigino’s next week?”

“Sounds good to me. You free that Friday?” He smiles at you.

“Yes, I am. How does 7 sound?”

“That’ll be great. Give me a call when you’ve got time, I’ll see you.” You enter your car, starting the engine as he backs away and raises a hand to you.

You notice he watches you leave the parking lot before leaving himself. That’s the first time any man has bothered to make sure nothing else happened to you. Dennis calls that night, you talk for a bit before you both decide to go to bed. The next two days follow the same routine, but the third day he doesn’t call. You feel a bit dejected, and by 8:30 you’re two glasses of wine deep, nearly ready to go to bed. Your phone rings and you’re wide awake again, picking up without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” You’re met only with the sound of heavy breathing. “Hello? Who is this?”

“I know where you are, you dirty slut. I’m gonna gut you like a fish.”

You hang up, throwing the phone almost across the living room. Your hands shake and you stand slowly, walking carefully over lest it ring and be the same man on the other end again. You call Dennis, and as he picks up you can’t control your tears attempting to explain what just happened. He arrives at your apartment shortly, holding you on the couch as you try to calm down. He offers to stay the night and you insist he doesn’t have to, he insists he wants to if it’ll make you feel safer. You gratefully accept.

Your week is filled with mishaps and threatening calls, notes left on your car in your apartment and work lots. You tell him the only person you can think of who would do this to you is your batshit crazy ex, so Dennis comes to visit for a bit most evenings. Dennis has to cancel your plans for Guigino’s, and as he leaves he kisses you at the door with a promise that he’ll call you.

He doesn’t call. You try to only call him once a day, leaving simple and short voicemails. The threatening calls start again and you try to get ahold of Dennis, still to no avail. You spend the next week almost too afraid to set foot outside, but you have obligations that must be met, phone stalker or not. By the end of the week you’ve given up. You didn’t expect this from him, don’t know what prompted it. You can’t tell whether you were too clingy, or perhaps you weren’t paying him the attention he deserved. You sit on your couch, already down three glasses of wine and working on your fourth when a knock on your door startles you.

You lean against the peephole, trying to make out who it is. Dennis. You groan quietly, holding your face in your hands. You sigh deeply, pulling the door open to face him directly. His shoulders are slack, he looks sad.

“Can I come in?” You gesture him inside, he sits on the couch and eyes the wine bottle. “I know I’ve been distant. I’m sorry.”

You sit next to him, picking up your wine glass and finishing it in one long swig.

“I just wanted to explain myself. Listen, I was being a coward. I was afraid. I’ve had my heart broken so many times, and you’re too good for me. I was scared it was gonna happen again and I was gonna lose the best thing that’s happened to me in ages, so I did a really shitty thing and cut you out before you could do it to me. That was awful of me.”

You rub your temple, sighing through your nose as he talks.

“I… I’m not afraid of that anymore. I thought about it really hard, and being away from you this week has been killing me. I wanna be with you. I love spending time with you and talking to you, when I have a bad day getting to talk to you makes it feel like it never even happened. Please, give me another chance.”

Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the stress you’ve been under, but the sincerity in his eyes knocks down every emotional barricade you put up. How exactly you got into bed with him is a blur, but you remember Dennis pulling you up at some point as you made out on the couch. This isn’t like the first time you fucked him, he’s taking his time with you now.

Your eyelids flutter as he lays kisses to your neck and chest, peeling your shorts away as you toss your tank top across the room. You can’t keep your hands off of him, fingers digging into the flesh of his back as he removes his shirt. He kisses you deeply, you hear the harsh sound of his zipper and he pulls away for a moment to remove his jeans. He’s back over you in an instant, hips grinding into yours evenly.

You make out slowly, fingers tangled in each other’s hair as he continues dry humping you. His pace begins quickening, his breathing becoming shallow. You’re both getting desperate, and you push his hand down to the waistband of your panties. He removes them without hesitation, pulling away from you once again only to push down his boxers. He reaches over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer for a condom.

You could cry when you finally feel him push inside you, the slow roll of his hips into yours making your eyes nearly cross and your back arch. One arm holds him up just above your torso, his other hand grips your hip. You can feel his teeth and tongue on your neck and clavicle, whining at the soft bites he lays down. The hand on your hip comes up to your chest and you gasp as he squeezes, his thumb grazing your nipple as he wraps his lips around the other. The wet heat drives you fucking crazy; you bite down on your own hand to ground yourself.

Your hips start to sting, you don’t even know how long you’ve had your legs spread at this point. Dennis doesn’t seem anywhere near tired or finished, his speed increased and his grip on your skin even firmer. You wrap your legs around his waist, he moans openly and fucks you harder. It still isn’t as hard as your first hookup, but you imagine this is what finding religion feels like. You feel his hand snake down between your bodies, gasping at the sensation of his thumb circling your clit.

Your eyes start to water, breathing becoming jerky as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His pelvis slams against yours, the speed and friction only pushing you closer to your orgasm. You whimper; the rubber band is about to snap, your stomach tenses and your thighs twitch. Dennis kisses you, hard, pounding into you and stopping abruptly. Your whine becomes a broken moan as he focuses his attention on your clit, tears falling as your entire body stiffens and relaxes from the relief your orgasm brings.

You moan again into his mouth and he continues fucking into you, and you can tell he’s close. Courteous, too. His speed is unrelenting, plowing into you so forcefully it almost hurts. He buries his cock inside you one final time, pressing his face into your tits and moaning raggedly. You almost wish you could feel him cum inside you, curious to experience the sensation. Dennis pants against your chest, squeezing your hip as you release his waist from the confinement of your calves.

He doesn’t move, holding his cock inside of you for what feels like hours. By the time he pulls out, you’re wracked by a wave of exhaustion. You can barely keep your eyes open, only vaguely aware of his movements as he throws away the condom and pulls the blankets over you both. You feel him stroke your hair and press a kiss to your cheek, and you think you hear him say something but you can’t quite understand him.

Your alarm scares you awake, on your one day off no less. You reach behind yourself, feeling only the mattress under your palm. You sit up, confused, listening for the sound of Dennis moving around anywhere in your apartment. The entire place is silent. You pull on enough clothes to cover yourself, walking to your window to look into the parking lot and searching for Dennis’s car. You don’t see it anywhere. You try to call him, immediately you’re met with the telltale chime ready to inform you you’ve dialed a disconnected phone number.

“Douchebag” doesn’t even begin to describe that motherfucker.

#i’m so glad you liked this bug happy birthday amiguita♡#dennis reynolds x reader #dennis reynolds fanfic #dennis reynolds fanfiction #it’s always sunny in philadelphia fanfiction #dead dove fic #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #dennis reynolds smut #birthday gift fic #gift fic #moth hollerin

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novas-fic-recs · 2 years ago

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bucky barnes fic recommendations

my welcome post

my favourite fics and headcanons about the wonderful bucky barnes! none of these were written by me, so make sure to give lots of love to the amazing writers who did write them! this will be updated as i find more.

silent girl + the winter soldier by @kinanabinks

summary: after a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.

seceret santa by @buckybarnesandmarvel

summary: the team decides to do a secret santa… of course you get the one person you’re in love with

secret girlfriend by @jenwritesstories

summary: steve thinks bucky has been acting weird lately, and after asking him what's going on, he takes matters into his own hands and follows him.

bucky barnes hcs by @b6cky

summary: what the title suggests

hc: peter's science fairs by @golden-barnes

summary: you and buck are like parental figures to peter parker and you have a little tradition before and after his science fairs.

theatre by @loving-barnes

summary: a bucky fic inspired by the avengers musical in hawkeye.

rain therapy by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine

summary: the line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. it’s a line that you and bucky just can’t seem to break, but it’s nothing one of tony’s infamous parties can’t fix.

differently by @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo

summary: you treat bucky differently than the other avengers do.

who's she? by @itsapeterthing

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

confrontation by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

summary: you and bucky have been together for some time now, so hearing he got himself arrested (again) makes you panic, to say the least

mr. barnes, teacher aide of the year by @soulgazingwithbucky

summary: your brooding avenger boyfriend becomes a regular visitor in your classroom.

dating bucky barnes by @beyondspaceandstars

summary: what the title suggests

the widow by ↑

summary: what bucky dating a widow (from black widow) would be like

midnight blue by @cupids-crystals

summary: two resident insomniacs find company in the quiet hours of stark tower

bucky barnes as your boyfriend by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: what the title suggests

secret book club by @starks-hero

summary: bucky’s got a new book and he just can’t seem to put it down.

right a wrong by ↑

summary: you, sam and bucky get to work repairing sam’s family boat. turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. but with help from you and sam, bucky figures some stuff out.

welcome to new york by @lives-in-midgard

summary: reader moves to new york to start a new life and meets bucky there....

restoring a legacy by @alisonsfics

summary: you are there when bucky finds out about the “new cap”

the forever third wheels by @witchywithwhiskey

summary: it's the weekend of your town's annual valentine's day carnival and you go with your group of friends, though you can't help but be sad you don't have someone special in your life. your friend, and fellow third wheel, bucky barnes makes it his mission to give you a valentine's day you won't soon forget—and show you how special you are to him.

knock by @biisexualemma

summary: bucky and you never get along, but he walks in on you needing help.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes fic recommendations #marvel fic recs #marvel fic reccomendations #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

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nesiacha · 22 days ago

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Survey: Who is your favorite mathematician from the French Revolution among this group?

These individuals contributed to mathematics during the Revolution, or used this field to better support or contribute to the Revolution.

Here are a few I’ve selected (a brief introduction even though we all know them, or almost)

Lazare Carnot:

Before the Revolution, he was a captain in the Corps of Engineers and had completed brilliant scientific studies. Elected as a deputy for Pas-de-Calais along with his brother, he immediately focused on military matters before his appointment to the Committee of Public Safety, where he oversaw the conduct of the war, both in Paris and on the battlefield. Upon his re-election after the fall of the monarchy, he voted for the king’s execution without delay and supported the proposal for public assistance, among other initiatives. He also collaborated with Condorcet, Pastoret, and Guilloud on women’s education. Despite his revolutionary activities, Carnot continued to write on mathematics, including his "Réflexions sur la métaphysique du calcul infinitésimal ", written in 1790 (first edition published in 1797). So, even during the Revolution, he did not forget mathematics.

Nicolas de Condorcet:

Here is the revolutionary defender of gender equality that everyone anticipated. Born a noble, he became a revolutionary and engaged early on with progressive ideas, whether scientific or political. He advocated for the rights of Black people, equal rights, and gender equality. He was critical of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen and the Constitution of 1791, which he found too moderate. Elected to the Paris Commune and later as a deputy, he held republican views and proposed a public education plan that laid the foundation for the school system envisioned under the Third Republic. Strongly opposed to the death penalty, he suggested condemning Louis XVI to hard labor instead. Condorcet also made contributions to mathematics. While in hiding, following his wife Sophie de Grouchy's advice, he wrote a mathematical work titled "Esquisse", which was published posthumously by his widow and traced the general progress of the human spirit across political and scientific history. He also passed notes to his wife for his "Éléments d'Arithmétique et de Géométrie", a two-part book for teachers and students.

Prieur de la Côte-d'Or:

After brilliant scientific studies in Dijon and Paris, he joined the Jacobin Club in 1790 and even presided over it during Louis XVI's flight. Elected to the Legislative Assembly, he opposed the royal veto and supported measures such as the decrees against émigrés and refractory priests, as well as the call for volunteers in 1792, while working on various committees, especially the education committee. After the fall of the monarchy, he was sent to eastern France with Carnot to reorganize civil and military authorities in an urgent context. Often dispatched on military-related missions throughout France, he joined the Committee of Public Safety. As a scientist and mathematician, he was particularly useful to the Revolution, notably in technical aspects like troop supply, weapons innovations, and the creation of military schools. After leaving the Committee, he joined the Education Committee, where he contributed to the creation of elite schools and the development of the metric system.

Gaspard Monge:

One of the main architects of the 19th-century mathematical revival, he was also a professor and friend of Lazare Carnot. Monge entered politics in 1790 and was an enthusiastic member of the Jacobin Club. He served as Minister of the Navy from August 1792 until 1793, tasked by the Committee of Public Safety with the procurement of arms, ammunition, and clothing for the army. He succeeded in significantly increasing the production of bronze cannons and rifles, among other resources, finding ways to secure saltpeter and other materials that were hard to obtain during the war with neighboring countries. Monge also contributed to the establishment of École Polytechnique and served as its director. One of his most important works is "Feuilles d'analyse appliquée à la géométrie", published in 1795. He was a professor at the École Normale, created in 1793, and was appointed a member of the Institut de France in 1795.

Charles-Gilbert Romme

Lastly, one of the last Montagnards, often called "the Crêtois." He also pursued brilliant studies, excelling in mathematics . He welcomed the French Revolution with enthusiasm and was one of the few deputies advocating for more civic rights for women, co-founding with Théroigne de Méricourt the mixed-gender Club des Amis de la Loi. Elected as a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, he supported the war effort. Later re-elected, he initially sat with the Plain before permanently joining the Mountain, where he voted for the king’s execution without delay and opposed Marat’s prosecution. He was sent on several missions for the Convention, including one to Caen, where he was imprisoned. Romme joined the Hébertists in supporting de-Christianization, endorsing the Cult of Reason and the de-priesting of Gobel. However, he did not witness the executions of the Dantonists, Hébertists, or the events of 9 Thermidor as he was on a mission that began in February 1794 and ended in September 1794. He remained faithful to his beliefs, even in 1795 when the liberalization of the economy worsened poverty, and the Convention took a more right-wing turn. He supported the 1st Prairial insurrection. Regarding mathematics, Romme was one of the creators of the Republican Calendar. His mathematical skills were vital in its design, as it adhered to the decimal system.

Sources:

Antoine Resche

Jacqueline Feldman

Le bicentenaire de Gaspard Monge ( article) write by Sergescu

#frev #french revolution #poll #lazare carnot #claude antoine prieur #monge gaspard #Romme Charles Gilbert #condorcet

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frizzle-mcshizzle · 7 months ago

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Sokeefe headcannons?

*rumages through my brain* haven’t thought about these two in ages

Sophie brings Keefe books on famous artists, his favorite being Vincent van Gogh because of his battles with depression

they go on a date to the lego batman movie dressed as batman and batgirl

Keefe and Sophie will bake in the kitchen trying to make Sophies’s favorite desserts getting into flour fights

this song is more them than any of the Taylor swift songs (sorry swifties) i wasn’t even in deep fandom brain rot when i listened to it, but it screamed sokeefe to me always has always will.

instead of having widow sleep overs they’ll call late at night and just leave their imparters on to try to fight nightmares

they make a club called genetically modified child club, they have tee shirts

they rock out to MCR and Fallout boy together when they are having hard days

Keefe obviously takes her last name when they get married, thats a given

they sometimes go on alicorn rides, no destinations in mind they just go fly, and forget about their problems and responsibilities just for a moment

sometimes Keefe will stare at the brand from the Ruewen pin on his hand and Sophie will kiss his palm

they decide to leave the black swan and move to a small cottage somewhere where they’re not the moonlark and the Sencen boy they’re just themselves and they can finally live a normal life.

#sorry thats all i could rake up from my brain #kotlc #thanks for the ask!#keeper of the lost cities #sokeefe

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deusa-astaroth666 · 28 days ago

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My Sullivan x Ciel headcanon in adulthood

-Ciel would make an exclusive black cat plush in honor of his wife

-Sullivan started to really study witchcraft to see some magic that could stop Sebastian from taking Ciel's soul (Ciel doesn't know this)

-Sullivan hides sweets in her husband's drawers, so he can eat without Sebastian knowing

-Ciel and Sullivan have a personal book club, they share books that each other liked and sit in front of the fireplace reading together

-Sullivan starts smoking in secret as a reflex to contain the traumas of the past, Ciel knows, but doesn't say anything

-Nothing happened on their wedding night. Ciel was so scared of being intimate that Sullivan asked them to wait until he felt comfortable.

-They only consummated their marriage 2 years after they got married

-As Ciel doesn't like to have constant sex, Sullivan was the one who invented the vibrator (penile dildo) so that she could satisfy herself without needing her husband

-Sullivan got pregnant at the age of 23 with a girl called Charlotte, her hair is black and she has heterochromia with one eye green and one blue

-Ciel loves his wife and daughter very much, but he is afraid of showing it and Sebastian will take it as a weakness

-When Ciel died having his soul taken, Sullivan cried for 3 weeks straight and went into deep mourning, she never stopped dressing in black, she keeps a pendant that contains strands of his hair as a way of preserving her your memory

-Ciel cried like a child in front of Sebastian when his soul was taken away, not because he was going to die, but because his wife and daughter would be alone

-Sullivan, after becoming a widow, taught his daughter the art of witchcraft, so that she would one day find Sebastian and take revenge on him

-Sullivan continued to fulfill her husband's dream even after his death, she continued Futom and her creation of toys, until the arrival of the Second World War where she was brutally murdered and Charlotte kidnapped

-While Charlotte was being taken away, Sullivan tried to offer her own body to save her daughter, the soldiers finished her off with a shot in the eye, while she was losing consciousness, she apologized to Ciel's soul for not having been able to save her their daughter

Charlotte decides to take revenge, the curse and cycle of deaths of the Phantomhive family continues with Sebastian entering the scene again, but now not just wanting a soul

#kuroshitsuji #black butler #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #kuroshitsuji fandom #black butler ciel #black butler manga #black butler headcanons #headcanons #Sullivan #ciel x sieglinde #sieglinde sullivan #cielinde #sulliel #kuroshitsuji headcanon #kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitsuji ciel #black butler sebastian #adult ciel

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 years ago

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𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

seven - the thing about lying

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: Y/N makes a heartbreaking discovery, Bucky is there to comfort her - some tears are shed, and they finally talk about their feelings.

a/n: Finally! I’m so excited about this one, please enjoy 💓

!Divider is mine. Please give credit when using!

word count: 4.6k

chapter warnings: angst, Agnes is back again, alcohol, general sadness, soft Bucky, fluff, a moment we’ve been waiting for (yes, me too)

✶ 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ☾

The streets were unusually busy for the time of day. But Y/N was on a mission to find Agnes. Because even though the evening had played out smoothly and quite romantically for the ‘Barnses’, the nagging thought of things shifting in Westview had kept her up all night. Y/N hadn’t slept, even with Bucky lying next to her, because the pair had collectively decided that neither of them should be left alone last night. But she had spent the night looking up at the ceiling, concentrating on the even breaths coming from the other side of the bed until the birds had started chirping outside the window again. And as soon as the sun had cracked past the horizon, Y/N had been up and about to do something - anything, really.

Bucky must not have noticed. He spent the morning like he did every other lately. Dressing in one of those gorgeous suits, kissing Y/N on the forehead, and heading off to work. At least one of them had slept well despite the events of the day before - and Y/N would have had preferred Bucky to be the one anyway.

So she had left the house right after he had to weave herself through the busy streets of Westview, though she didn’t quite realize what the hustle was about. When she reached the curb by the town square, however, Y/N realized what was going on. She had entirely forgotten that Dottie had ordered the stage plan for the talent show today. And while Y/N tried to sneak past the accumulated huddle of ladies on the sidewalk - because she was sure that Agnes would not be amongst them anyway - Dottie had spotted her and yanked her into the circle of flowery perfume and peep toes.

Y/N recognized most of them from the book club meetings. And even though she appreciated Dottie's attempts to include her in whatever they were doing, she didn’t want to risk being talked into another duty during the show - especially not now that she had something much better to do.

“Ladies, Y/N over here has been such a great help to me lately. Y/N I want you to meet Simone. Simone is our newest event committee member. She replaced Natalie after she couldn’t juggle all the meetings anymore.” Y/N forced a smile upon her face while eager eyes watched her intently. Several faces were still foreign to her, but even those greeted her with a kind smile and subtle nods of appreciation. Of course, she could never tell with the housewives of Westview - behind their backs, there was always someone talked about - but for now, Y/N had nothing to worry about.

A black-haired woman spoke up with a sigh: “Poor thing that Natalie. She was such a sweetheart but she couldn’t keep a man for the life of her.” And all the others agreed in unison.

“A husband would have done her good.”

Y/N couldn’t ignore the light twitch of pain shooting through her at the mention of the name. But who would Balme her? It had merely been months since Natasha’s death. And she did count it as the most life-shattering event of her life. Natasha always talked about children and a partner would have been included in that fantasy of the late black widow. A jeering warmth settled in her heart Y/N thought back to the endless conversation she had with her and Wanda. Talking about ridiculous things and unattainable could-have-beens. She missed those days, even if remembering them brought a big deal of grief back to her soaring mind. Y/N shook her head. She needed to snap out of it for now. There were other things to do and one of them was finding Agnes to get a little more intel on the whole town. Not that she wouldn’t get gossip to last a lifetime from spending five minutes with these women. But the brunette neighbor seemed to have far more interesting knowledge of the former avenger.

“Didn’t she always talk about that one man? The scientist?” Simone pitched into the conversation. Apparently, the topic was not finished yet. And Y/N just stood beside these women, waiting for an opportunity to sneak away.

Another woman nodded her head eagerly, making her deep brown curls bob up and down. “Oh, what was his name again? Brian, no?”

This would be over soon, and Y/N would be back home with Bucky, exchanging small talk and cuddling into his side on the sofa. That was the thing keeping her going, the thing making her endure this unfortunate situation. The thought of Bucky felt like a sip of hot chocolate making its way down your stomach and seeping warmth into every part of your body - it never failed to calm her down, or distract you for the better.

“Y/N, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all over.” A voice ripped Y/N from her warm and delicious thoughts. It belonged to none other than Agnes, who had shown up out of nowhere like she always did.

“You? For me? What-” the black widow stammered, though her muscles relaxed at the possibility of an out.

Dottie’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh, Agnes! Come here, why don’t you help us out for a moment. What was that man’s name Natalie always talked about? The redhead - you remember her, right?”

Red-head? Named Natalie and dating a scientist? That seemed like one too many coincidences piling on top of each other. Y/N felt her hands glow clammy as her eyes wandered to the tall brunette who had joined the circle now, anxiously waiting for the answer she didn’t want to hear.

“Why of course! Bruce, I think it was Bruce.” And there it was: the stone falling into the pit of her stomach, weighing her down and drowning all the warm feelings from before.

“Bruce, that’s it!” Dottie agreed. This couldn’t be, could it?

Y/N’s heartbeat crept up her throat as the familiar flames of panic licked up her spine. The number of breakdowns she’d endured over the past month was enough to last a lifetime, but for some devilish reason, she dint seem to catch a break... ever. It wasn’t like she had not thought about it before. Vision was alive, for fuck’s sake! There was no way of knowing who else resurrected from the dead in the town. Especially if Wanda thought them important enough. For all Y/N knew, at least two more panic attacks were walking around amongst the red static walls of Westview and she wasn’t quite sure how well she could handle them this time.

The summery air felt more humid by the second, sweat accumulating on her forehead and as much as she tried to cover the shallow breaths escaping her dried-out lips, she felt as if every woman around her knew all of her secrets. But before she could even attempt to count in pictures before her mental eye, Dottie spoke up once more.

“Okay, now that we have that settled... Y/N what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Since you won’t be performing at the talent show next week, how about I put you in charge of the pastry buffet?”

The former Avenger shook her head. “Dottie, I don’t think-”

“It’s really not a hard job. All you have to do is hand out the cakes and make sure everything is labeled correctly.” Dottie's blonde hair bounced off her shoulders with every persuading nod. And Y/N was surprised how much it calmed her down to solely focus on that.

She took a deep breath and mustered up a sorry smile for the eager blonde in front of her. She did have a good reason to cancel after all, and the thought of Bucky took the last bit of panic from her body. “No, I- Listen, Dottie. I would really love to help out. But Bucky has something planned for us that day and I really don’t want to cancel on him.”

“Oh? Well, what does he have planned? Can’t he move it to another day?” Irritation prominent on her face, Dottie frowned in her direction with a feigned smile.

“It’s... It’s a surprise?” It came out more like a question than anticipated, but apparently, it was enough for Simone. She clutched her hands to her chest with a puppy-eye look on her face.

“That is so romantic! Of course, we understand, Sweetheart.” Dottie didn’t say anything after that, though her face told Y/N that she was not satisfied with the outcome of the conversation.

“Oh, isn’t your husband just the sweetest?” Agnes laid an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and shook her left to right. “You should see these two together. Now, that is a marriage I would love for Ralph and me to have. But he’s as lazy as they come! Not Bucky, though. Have you seen him, ladies? He’s a hunk if I’ve ever seen one...” But all of Agnes’s words faded into background noise as Y/N’s thoughts became a ringing echo in her head.

It couldn’t go on like this.

As much as the thought of Bucky as her husband warmed her soul and made the butterflies erupt in her stomach, it simultaneously unleashed a longing that could never be catered to. Having Bucky this close was a farfetched fantasy, even if it felt as real as it would ever get every time she stepped foot into that blue house on Sherwood Drive. Y/N had never realized it before. She was too occupied by hiding the flustered expression on her face whenever the topic of her ‘marriage’ came up amongst the people of Westview. But now, as the aftermath of the waves of panic came rolling in, she realized how much of a toll it took on her - and how much it would if this all were to ever stop. She knew it would at some point. Everything felt a little too uncomfortable lately, and it plainly wasn’t realistic to live here forever. Even if Y/N wished it were, there was just no way of this situation going on any longer than it was doomed to.

She loved being married to Bucky. She loved having him closer than ever before even behind the closed doors of their beautiful home. But she also knew that she didn’t want to pretend anymore. It was exhausting and - even though the times Bucky attempted to make up for the mental toll the charade took on her - it would never be enough. It would never be able to fill the cracks of the broken heart she was nursing in her chest. Cracks that silently ripped deeper scars in the most fragile part of her. A part that was covering the deep-settled fear of loneliness with everything it could grab - even if it came in the forms of fake relationships and mocked promises of love.

Y/N knew it would destroy her. It would destroy her because - as she realized in the midst of women swooning over her feigned husband - she was so deeply and utterly in love with Bucky that the thought of ending their foolish agreement would make her heart explode. And the pieces that would be left of her would barely be holding together. She would be too fragile to ever give herself into the hands of another. Too fearful that the breaking promise of devotion would shatter her whole. There would be no one else. Bucky was the one for her and jeopardizing the chance of genuinely being with him by feigning a marriage seemed like the worst idea of the century all of a sudden.

“I- I’m sorry, Agnes. If you would excuse me.”

“Why darling, is everything alright?”

“Yes, I just have this thing- I need to go I’m really sorry.” Her breathing got heavy again, but Y/N stepped away from the women before anyone would notice. Agnes sent her a worried look she caught over her shoulder before stumbling down the sidewalk and away.

When Bucky turned into the driveway and got home that afternoon, Y/N barely registered the rustling in the foyer. She was empty, her eyes zeroing in on the bottle of wine between her legs. There wasn’t a lot of it gone. In fact, the bottle was almost full, but for some reason, it had felt like the normal thing to do. Because that’s how all the housewives in the movies did it, right? Drink their sorrow away in their huge suburban homes or with their girlfriends who were equally desperate to vent about their partners. But Y/N didn’t have any friends here. Well, at least none she could talk to at the moment. Because despite all the welcoming smiles and inclusions, the housewives of Westview were shallow and never bothered for a deep conversation with Y/N. She hadn’t even talked to the guys but she figured they’d be just as useless.

She really hated it. God, she hated how there was never nothing going on. Something always ruined things for her - this time, they were her fault. She knew that, but she was too hung up on the fact that she just couldn’t take a break. The universe was a bitch. It never gave you something without taking another thing in return. And for Y/N, it always seemed to be her happiness. She got to enjoy the weightlessness for a while and then - boom - like a bad magic trick, everything came crashing down leaving her with anxiety and trust issues. It was exhausting to always be on the lookout for the shoe to drop. Always tense and ready to fight, preventing her from enjoying the good times while they were happening. Bucky and she were very similar in that aspect. Though he seemed to be a little more relaxed about everything these days. Whatever happened to him since the Avengers disassembled, it had done him good and Y/N wished for him to let her in on the secret.

“What’s going on?” Bucky stood in the kitchen with his suit jacket lazily hanging from his hand. There was a concerned look on his face and it pained Y/N to know she was the one causing it over and over again. Worry had become a reoccurring state of mind for the super soldier ever since they got to Westview and Y/N didn’t want him to worry about her. She wanted him to enjoy the easy life, and she wanted him to show her how she could, too. But something always seemed to get in her way. She couldn’t go more than a week without panicking initiating another stage of crisis.

Bucky's forehead scrunched in confusion, his jaw tensing making him look lost - out of place. Y/N knew he wouldn’t accept her avoiding the big fat elephant in the room. And even though she did not want to bother him with yet another problem of hers, she had promised him to tell him whenever something felt off. They had both promised it to each other. Y/N was pretty sure that this pact was the one deal sealing them together like glue, but she worried that what she was about to tell him, was going to melt that glue away like acid.

She sighed heavily before circling her thumb over the opening of the bottle. There was no avoiding this. “It’s just...” But she trailed off anyway. How was she going to tell him that she couldn’t pretend anymore? That being with him for real, was her heart's most precious desire? Not without chasing him away, that was for sure.

“Tell me, doll. Please.” Bucky moved to sit next to her on the kitchen tiles. His knee slightly grazed hers, shooting a shockwave of emotions up her leg.

She turned her head to him, tears clearly shimmering in her eyes before her gaze wandered back to the floor where her toes were nervously twitching.

“Have you ever... Do you know what it feels like to wish for something so much that your mind starts thinking it into reality?” She shook her head, feeling a tear tickle her cheek before wiping it away with her sleeve before Bucky could see. “And you’re just hurting yourself with it because it will never happen - it’s unrealistic. But at the same time, it’s the one thing that keeps you going.”

“Until it destroys you.” Bucky completed. His voice had an uneven timbre to it now. As if he was tiptoeing around her - careful not to break her.

“Yes,” she whispered back. There was a short silence before Bucky reached over to retreat the bottle from her shaky hands. His face scrunched up in disgust after he took a sip from it and handed it back to her.

“I know exactly how that feels.” He wiped the remains from his lips with his hand and Y/N found her eyes sticking to them for a heartbeat longer.

“The radio?” She remembered one of their earlier conversations about ‘normal life’ and the way Bucky’s dream had made her heart flutter. All he wanted was a radio in his home. A wife and maybe a TV - that’s what he had said.

But the brunette shook his head with a small smile. His head dipped back on the blue cupboards and he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. “I didn't want it to be fake.”

Y/N looked up at him, his eyes were already on her. What did that mean? Bucky had his leg propped up and his arm rested on his knee. His eyes were soft and conveyed a comforting calmness as he watched her unravel the statement he had just presented. Y/N shook her head in confusion, her hand still clutched to the bottle that was now comfortably resting on her leg.

“Us. I didn’t want us to be fake,” he explained further. Her stare was blank. Surely, the wine could not have had that big of an effect on her. Though she couldn’t help but wonder why she wasn’t able to process his words. But still, her body reacted like it always did to him - tingling and warm.

“When you told me, we should plan our backstory. I didn’t want it to be fake.” He must have been referring to the discussion at the dinner table a couple weeks ago. His reaction had been weird, all shy, and then all of a sudden, resilient and... different. It was an unsatisfying exchange now that she thought back on it. She didn’t get what she wanted from him, but now, he laid it all out for her - honest and vulnerable.

“Bucky-“

“Please let me say this.” Y/N just nodded - a motion for him to continue. She would be listening, she always did. It didn’t matter what Bucky said, she hung onto his lips every time. “I know I should have asked that day Agnes greeted us on the street. But when she said that- When she said we were a couple, I don’t know, I short-wired.” He shifted, both his knees now folded to his chest. “It felt nice, to be normal, you know? It was nice not to be... me.” He glanced at his left hand where his vibranium arm used to be and it was almost as though disappointment swept through his face at the sight of skin. Y/n wanted to tell him that she liked him exactly for being him - Bucky, but she didn’t want to interrupt him either. So she just laid her hand on top of his and waited. “But then when you wanted to plan our story... I realized that’s not what I want.”

“Oh.” Y/N's shoulders slumped and she retracted her hand instantly. It somehow didn’t feel as warm and tingly inside her anymore. And all she could hear were the words ‘not what I want’ reverberating in her head. Bucky had realized how stupid being with her would be. She’d lost him before she even had him.

“Planning it would make it a lie, Y/N.” His hand stretched out to her side, his fingers slightly grazing hers. “And I don’t want this to be a lie,” he whispered.

Oh! She looked up at him at the touch. Her feelings blended like a smoothie and her expressions probably resembled that. “It’s funny ‘cause I’ve never had a problem with lying, it never made me uncomfortable. But you... I need this - us - to be real, do you understand?”

Y/N understood too well. ‘Cause, that was the thing about lying: it never ever turned out the way you wanted it to. Y/N understood that fear more than anyone. And that might have been because she was literally in the exact same position as Bucky when it came to the lie they were talking about.

“I don’t want this to be a lie either, Bucky.” The confession placed a smile on Bucky’s lips as his fingers moved to intertwine with hers. An excited shiver crept up her arms when he scooted closer to her on the floor, butterflies causing nervousness to erupt in her chest. This was a dream come true.

“Is this silly?” He asked honestly, his eyes shimmering with tears in the kitchen. “Because these past few days I have finally gotten to experience what normal feels like. And I don’t want this to be gone. Especially now that I can actually have it with you.”

He slipped away again. But Y/N couldn’t have that now. Not when everything finally fell into place. She had lost too many people to let Bucky go now. Now, that she had the chance to stir his intrusive thoughts in a better direction.

“No, No Bucky listen to me.” Her hands held his face with a firm but gentle grip. “Listen to me: This is not silly. I want this, too. And I completely understand, it’s okay to feel suspicious about this. Especially because nothing ever goes the way we want it to. But maybe - just maybe this time we actually deserve it. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s hands moved to cover hers and press them deeper into his skin. There was a thin shimmer of tears covering his eyes beneath his scrunched eyebrows. They were flickering between hers almost as if they were reveling in the comfort she tried to convey with all her soul.

“Are you sure?” His warm breath tickled her skin - that’s how close he was to her. Mere inches separated soft-skinned lips from connecting and finally embracing the heat brooding between the pair.

“Yes.” Y/N’s voice was only a whisper but she meant her words more than anything.

The seconds ticking by in which Bucky processed her answer felt like hours. But Y/N could wait for them to be over. She had waited months already - there was no difference in dragging it out a little longer if it meant having Bucky be confident in his decision. She would try to keep the excitement at bay. It was easier than she thought, because there wasn’t a trace of nervousness anymore, knowing that Bucky actually felt the same.

When his thumbs suddenly began moving over her skin, his stare softened. A weak smile snuck into the corners of his mouth as it lay crooked on his face. Bucky chuckled softly when the first tear rolled over his cheek.

“I would really like to kiss you,” he rasped out into the space between them, sending Y/N’s emotions into overdrive. She was happy - so happy she could cry.

“Please do,” she managed to choke out. And when Bucky finally moved forward and pressed his lips to hers, the butterflies erupted in a wild storm in her stomach.

Her whole body relaxed into his touch. His hands that were smoothing soft strokes down to her neck, his breath hitching when she kissed him back, moving her lips in synch with his and confirming everything he had ever doubted. This was where she finally felt okay. With Bucky being truly hers and his warm presence encasing her with his all-consuming being. He made her forget about all the bad things of the past days, of all the worries, all the fear and anxiety. This moment felt good - lightweight and free. Something Y/N had wished for a long time now.

Bucky’s hand wandered to the back of her neck, burying his fingers in her hair and tilting her head into him. She sighed into the kiss when she felt his tongue carefully plead for entrance. And Y/n granted it - eager and joyful. Her hands left his face as his traded their position on hers. She stroked over his shirt, feeling every rigid muscle on his chest until they pried their way around his torso. Bucky was warm and beautiful - the most amazing whiff of calmness she ever got to taste and now that she had, there was no way of ever letting it go.

When her fingernails dug into his muscles, triggered by the little moan that escaped Bucky’s lips, he pulled her forward and into his lap. His lips spread into a smile before they resumed their soft attack on hers, making her all dizzy in the process. Bucky’s body pressing up closer to hers with every heated movement, made her body tingle from head to toe. Her hands began pulling in his hair, wandering over his back, abs, shoulders - everywhere she could reach. She wanted to feel all of him - forever.

All the passion and fear and anxiety of the past weeks was tangible in the kiss - drenching it through and through while simultaneously fading into a foggy memory. Still, the possibility of having them back made Y/N lean further into the perfect man beneath her. She buried a fist into his hair suppressing the tears swimming to the surface. This was real and good, and hers. Bucky responded with another pleased moan when his hands wandered up her arms, resting on her elbows and finally leaning his head back on the cupboard door to take a proper look at her. Y/n whined when his lips left hers, her eyes still closed and soaking up the warmth that seeped through her fingertips from his skin.

His chest was heaving when she opened them again, a dreamy look encased her in all its wholesomeness and then, after what felt like another eternity, Bucky’s mouth opened again.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” He pressed her knuckles to his lips while locking his eyes on hers with an honest glimmer.

“I think I just might...” Y/N smiled as her head became hot. Up until a couple minutes ago, she would have bet that she had had a crush on him for much longer - a competition she would always win. But now, she wasn’t so sure anymore. What Bucky had just given her - shown her - felt more sincere than most things in her life ever had.

“Kiss me again,” Bucky whispered while watching his hands caress up and down her arms. “And please don’t ever stop.” His eyes looked softer than ever before, the deep blue of his irises washing over with happiness and longing. Y/N never thought she’d see that in them - especially not for her.

She felt her pulse pounding in her neck when she leaned forward again, an honest smile pulling on her lips when her nose brushed his. “I wouldn’t dare stop, Bucky.”

“Good,” he whispered just as silky. And then Y/N connected her lips with his again, her body molded into his as the faint taste of red wine danced across their tongues once more.

Maybe Westview wasn't all bad fantasies and lies and anxiety. Maybe it was more than that - the start of something truly wonderful, even. Something sincere and happy and pure, just like this very moment.

𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

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thatlovequeerauthor · 6 months ago

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Extensive Queer Book Rec List

This is going to be an extensive masterlist of books representing every Queer Identity I can find. I'm going to try to be as thorough as possible and I will be consistantly updating it. If you know of any, especially indie authors, feel free to recommend some in my dms, the comments, or my askbox! Created: 5/10/24 Last Updated: 5/15/24

Achillean: Cemetery Boys We contain Multitudes The Sun and The Star The Taking of Jake Livingston Proxy Bloodraven Red, White and Royal Blue Hell Followed With Us Aristotle and Dante Simon Vs The Homosapien Agenda Coffee Cake House in the cerulean sea History is all you left me They both die at the end

Sapphic: Faeblood Unbroken Radio Apocalypse This Gilded Abyss Crier's War Malice The Jasmine Throne She Drives Me Crazy She gets the girl Delilah Green Doesn't Care Imogen, Obviously The Stars and the Blackness between them Last night at the Telegraph club Gearbreakers Contract bound The Truthspoken Heir The Honey Witch Aromantic Spectrum: Baker Thief The Last Chronomancer Dread Nation Asexual Spectrum: Where the River Meets the Soul This Golden Flame The Sound Of Stars (Demisexual) Love letters for joy Let's Talk about love Transgender: Stay Gold (FTM) Melissa (MTF) Lily and Dunkin (MTF) Gracefully Grayson (MTF) Symptoms of Being Human (Genderfluid) Good King Lyr (Genderfluid) Mask Of Shadows (Genderfluid) The Sunbearer Trials (FTM) Zenobia July (MTF and also Neopronouns rep) The Spirit Bares Its Teeth (FTM) Most Ardently (FTM) Felix Ever After (FTM) If I was your girl (MTF) Magical boy (FTM) Look Past (FTM) Polyamorous*: Iron Widow Ariah MOGAI: Smogg: Origins (Side character that uses it/its) Objectum: Viscera Objectica The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane Traveller's Gate Hitty, Her First Hundred Years Christine

#queer #lesbian #gay #nonbinary #achillean #sapphic #mogai #objectum #polyamorous #lovequeer #bookrecs #bookblr #master list #representation

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musicalmoritz · 4 months ago

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Hello💕

My name is Roxy. This blog is mainly for my rambles and shippy posts (not mutually exclusive). I am a writer on ao3 under the same name as this account. I’m just here to put my thoughts out into the world like an open diary, and to reblog cute shit💞💞💞

Fandom Interests:

• Current Hyperfixation- TBHK

• Other Animes (in no particular order)- Hunter X Hunter, Chainsaw Man, Fruits Basket, Madoka Magica, Kakegurui, Jujutsu Kaisen, Bungou Stray Dogs, My Hero Academia, Cowboy Bebop, Ouran High School Host Club, I’m In Love With The Villainess, Sk8 the Infinity, Adachi and Shimamura, Banana Fish, Demon Slayer, Mob Psycho 100, Spy X Family, Vampires In The Garden, High Rise Invasion, Kyo Kara Maoh, Kase-San and Morning Glories, Haikyuu!!, Death Note, Attack On Titan, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and Full Metal Alchemist

• DC Comics, mainly the female characters and anything related to the Teen Titans/Batman. I’ve been in this fandom for years due to adaptations but I’m relatively new to the comics themselves. Currently reading Batwoman's New 52 run and anything Cass Cain related I can get my hands on

• I do like Marvel but like mainly Spider-Man, the X-Men, and Black Widow. I'm refraining from posting about it for the time being due to the boycott

• I'm a big filmbro, my top 3 movies of all time are Dead Poets Society, Pride & Prejudice (2005), and American Psycho

• Classic lit is my favorite thing to read (aside from fan fiction). Currently reading The Idiot by Dostoevsky

• I love listening to musicals, my top 3 being Les Miserables, Falsettos, and Spring Awakening

• Some shows I like are Breaking Bad, Glee, Stranger Things (not posting due to the boycott), Gravity Falls, First Kill, Bly Manor, I Am Not Okay With This, The Middle, Adventure Time, Modern Family, Merlin, Doctor Who, and probably others I can't think of rn

• I'm really into classic fairytales🦋

• As far as music goes I am a critical Swiftie. I also enjoy Fall Out Boy, Marina, early Panic! At The Disco, Megan Thee Stallion, Nirvana, David Bowie, Stevie Nicks, and various other artists

• Some other fandoms I've been involved in include It by Stephen King (all media types), Twilight, Percy Jackson (boycott), The Hunger Games, Marauders, Camp Camp, Archie Comics & Sabrina, Dan & Phil, Hellaverse, Homestuck (save me), aaaaaand I think that's everything??

• My favorite piece of media of all time is Les Miserables, especially the book and the musical. I love it with all of my heart and it truly changed the way I live my life as well as my outlook on the world and religion💕

• My favorite character of all time is Dazai from BSD, I adore his character development and all the subtle details that add to his characterization💕

• I enjoy analyzing and yapping about my interests so expect a lot of that

Other Interests:

• I am a psychology major with an AS degree in psychology

• I practice wing-chun, though I am still somewhat of a beginner (white belt, my si-fu makes his students earn them)

• Writing is my passion and I have been working on my own novel for many years now. It is meant to be a three part series but I don’t want to publish the first book until it’s perfect

• Proud Cat Mom

• Being an older sister is like 50% of my personality

• I am a lesbian and a Christian and both of those identities are very important to me

• Believe it or not I am employed, though I won’t say where for obvious reasons💪🏻

• Raging Feminist

• Antique collector

• Complainer, not a hater

• Optimist

• Lover of all things pink

Again, this blog is really just a side quest, I’m much more active on TikTok so you might want to follow me there (femslash.enthusiast / #1 aoinene lover). I’m just here to yap about my interests and spread good vibes💕

#intro post #blog intro #girl blogger #introduction #toilet bound hanako kun #les miserables #dc comics #bungou stray dogs

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aurumacadicus · 1 year ago

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There are still a couple weeks left to read Iron Widow, but we’re voting for our next book now so we have plenty of time to get it for the first day of reading on October thirtieth! Book summaries are under the cut! Each new title is in bold for clarity.

If you’d like to join the book club, now or for the next book, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll give you the link to our Discord!

The Amulet of Samarkand by Jonathan Stroud

Nathaniel is a boy magician-in-training, sold to the government by his birth parents at the age of five and sent to live as an apprentice to a master. Powerful magicians rule Britain, and its empire, and Nathaniel is told his is the “ultimate sacrifice” for a “noble destiny.”

If leaving his parents and erasing his past life isn’t tough enough, Nathaniel’s master, Arthur Underwood, is a cold, condescending, and cruel middle-ranking magician in the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The boy’s only saving grace is the master’s wife, Martha Underwood, who shows him genuine affection that he rewards with fierce devotion. Nathaniel gets along tolerably well over the years in the Underwood household until the summer before his eleventh birthday. Everything changes when he is publicly humiliated by the ruthless magician Simon Lovelace and betrayed by his cowardly master who does not defend him.

Nathaniel vows revenge. In a Faustian fever, he devours magical texts and hones his magic skills, all the while trying to appear subservient to his master. When he musters the strength to summon the 5,000-year-old djinni Bartimaeus to avenge Lovelace by stealing the powerful Amulet of Samarkand, the boy magician plunges into a situation more dangerous and deadly than anything he could ever imagine.

A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab

Kell is one of the last Antari—magicians with a rare, coveted ability to travel between parallel Londons; Red, Grey, White, and, once upon a time, Black.

Kell was raised in Arnes—Red London—and officially serves the Maresh Empire as an ambassador, traveling between the frequent bloody regime changes in White London and the court of George III in the dullest of Londons, the one without any magic left to see.

Unofficially, Kell is a smuggler, servicing people willing to pay for even the smallest glimpses of a world they’ll never see. It’s a defiant hobby with dangerous consequences, which Kell is now seeing firsthand.

After an exchange goes awry, Kell escapes to Grey London and runs into Delilah Bard, a cut-purse with lofty aspirations. She first robs him, then saves him from a deadly enemy, and finally forces Kell to spirit her to another world for a proper adventure.

Now perilous magic is afoot, and treachery lurks at every turn. To save all of the worlds, they’ll first need to stay alive.

The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman

In a peaceful retirement village, four unlikely friends meet up once a week to investigate unsolved murders.

But when a brutal killing takes place on their very doorstep, the Thursday Murder Club finds themselves in the middle of their first live case. Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron might be pushing eighty but they still have a few tricks up their sleeves.

Can our unorthodox but brilliant gang catch the killer before it’s too late?

Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey

“Come home.” Vera’s mother called and Vera obeyed. In spite of their long estrangement, in spite of the memories – she’s come back to the home of a serial killer. Back to face the love she had for her father and the bodies he buried there.

Coming home is hard enough for Vera, and to make things worse, she and her mother aren’t alone. A parasitic artist has moved into the guest house out back, and is slowly stripping Vera’s childhood for spare parts. He insists that he isn’t the one leaving notes around the house in her father’s handwriting… but who else could it possibly be?

There are secrets yet undiscovered in the foundations of the notorious Crowder House. Vera must face them, and find out for herself just how deep the rot goes.

The Girl in the Letter by Emily Gunnis

A heartbreaking letter. A girl locked away. A mystery to be solved.

1956. When Ivy Jenkins falls pregnant she is sent in disgrace to St Margaret’s, a dark, brooding house for unmarried mothers. Her baby is adopted against her will. Ivy will never leave.

Present day. Samantha Harper is a journalist desperate for a break. When she stumbles on a letter from the past, the contents shock and move her. The letter is from a young mother, begging to be rescued from St Margaret’s. Before it is too late.

Sam is pulled into the tragic story and discovers a spate of unexplained deaths surrounding the woman and her child. With St Margaret’s set for demolition, Sam has only hours to piece together a sixty-year-old mystery before the truth, which lies disturbingly close to home, is lost forever…

Read her letter. Remember her story…

Cinder by Melissa Meyer

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless Lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth’s fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She’s a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister’s illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai’s, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world’s future.

#book club

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ineffable-endearments · 6 months ago

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No Woman No Cry by Rita Marley with Hettie Jones

What could a memoir by Rita Marley, widow of Bob Marley, one of the most internationally renowned musicians of all time, possibly have to do with Good Omens? This is what I was wondering when I saw it on the "book club" list in Amazon's X-Ray feature, and what I was determined to find out by requesting it from the library.

[ID: A screen capture from Good Omens Season 2 Episode 2: several books on Aziraphale's bookshop shelf. From left to right, the legible titles are: I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith; No Woman, No Cry by Rita Marley; The Crow Road by Iain Banks; The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon; Catch-22 by Joseph Heller; Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez; Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell; The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler; The Bible; The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger; A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket; Herzog by Saul Bellow. There are a few other books, but their titles can't be seen in the screen capture. At the bottom of the frame are Gabriel's blurred fingers as he removes another book from the shelf. End ID]

Screen capture is from cap-that.com.

As a nonfiction narrative about real people, some of whom are still alive, No Woman No Cry is different from all the other books on the list. It's got intimate details about real people's lives and major historical events, and that is why I'm not going to make one-to-one comparisons to my favorite fictional story.

But I will write a summary and a reflection on it.

Warning for the summary and essay below about racism, colonialism, rape, and spousal abuse. Do feel free to chat or ask me about more specifics, if you're concerned about reading those subjects. Also, though it's a memoir rather than fiction, there are, of course, many spoilers.

So, first of all: I am in so very far over my head when it comes to discussing the deeper themes of this book. I grew up a middle-class white girl in Connecticut, USA in the 1990s and 2000s and experienced neither abuse nor fame in early adulthood; this memoir is written by a woman who grew up a dark-skinned black girl in deep poverty in Jamaica in the middle of the twentieth century, then experienced a dizzying combination of fame and abuse almost all at once. I can empathize with Rita's story as she tells it, but to analyze and extrapolate in any sort of insightful way? No, I don't think I can do that. No Woman No Cry deserves reflection, though. Please kindly bear with a little clumsiness.

I can see from online discussion that a lot of people come out of this book feeling shocked and dismayed to discover that Bob Marley did, indeed, abuse his wife, including an instance she described as "almost rape" when he simply would not accept a sexual rejection. After writing about all this and more, though, Rita Marley continues to miss, love, and admire Bob; per the online comments, many readers seem to have decided that she is misguided, afflicted, or outright delusional for feeling this way. Although I could not forgive Bob's abuses, I also cannot dismiss the positive meanings that Rita has taken from her time with Bob. It's her story, not mine, and she already has her own way of synthesizing the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Summary

No Woman No Cry starts with Rita Marley recalling Bob Marley's death.

But then I started to cry and said, "Bob, please, don't leave me." And he looked up and said, "Leave you, go where? What are you crying for? Forget crying, Rita. Just keep singing. Sing! Sing!" So I kept singing, and then I realized, wow, that's exactly what the song was saying: "I will never leave you, wherever you are I will be..."

Rita Marley's full maiden name was Alfarita Constantia Anderson, but she went by Rita her whole life. Her parents separated, as was common, and she lived with her beloved Aunty Viola for much of her youth. Rita was bullied by her classmates for her dark skin; though most Jamaicans are people of color, eurocentric beauty standards brought in by colonialism still led to a strong bias toward lighter skin.

Rita met Bob Marley in Trench Town when they were both getting into music; Rita was in a group called The Soulettes, and Bob was in a group called The Wailers with his friends Peter and Bunny. They bonded over music. They also bonded over Bob's generosity with Aunty and taking care of Rita's child, as Rita was a single mother at the time and Bob was nurturing toward her baby daughter, Sharon. Interestingly, Rita stated she initially got involved in Bob's personal life because she felt she wanted to take care of him, as he didn't have anywhere comfortable to live.

Bob got Rita interested in Rastafari, which connected with her spiritually and helped her gain confidence in her beauty and worth as a black woman. Rita gives Bob a great deal of credit throughout the narrative for helping her discover herself.

Rita and Bob had very little income for the early part of their marriage. They had to stay in a single room at Aunty's house, and although they loved Aunty, it was just too crowded, especially since Aunty and Rita's brother did not approve of all of their decisions. They were judgmental of Rastafari, for example, which had no respect in Jamaica. (Although there is still bias against Rastafarians today, things are a bit better.)

Over the next several years, Rita and Bob moved a few times while continuing to work on Bob's music; they had homes in Nine Mile and then again in Kingston. Rita describes the two of them getting into "love fights" and then making up; they would fight "like children," as she put it, although she was left with physical injuries at times. Aunty warned Rita against staying with a spouse who would hit her. Rita, however, didn't want to leave, partly out of love and partly because she felt that maintaining the marriage was a duty. She also believed she and Bob would always actively choose to be friends, no matter what happened. Bob made up with both Rita and Aunty.

Rita considered different career paths, which included some music, but also the possibility of nursing. On the other hand, Bob devoted himself entirely to music, except for a short time working in the United States. Both Bob and Rita worked in the United States at different times. Neither of them liked it. During Rita's stay in the US, she hated being away from home and felt like she was growing apart from Bob. When Rita got back to Jamaica, she discovered that two other women were pregnant with Bob's children. Though she was angry, Rita decided that because of her spirituality and her continued love, she would remain married to Bob, but would focus on taking care of herself and the children. By now, the family had three children: Shannon (who Rita had before meeting Bob and who Bob formally adopted), Cedella, and David Nesta (better known as Ziggy).

This whole time, Bob had been working on music, with Rita helping when she wasn't away in the US. They had been establishing relationships with studios and selling records, and were seeing some success.

Bob and the Wailers' new producer gave them a house as a space to work and make music. That house was at 56 Hope Road in Kingston, and it's still a famous site today. By the time they got that house, Bob was entirely the one performing with the Wailers, while Rita was mostly taking care of the children. Because of the constant activity from strangers, business dealings, and womanizing that went on at Hope Road, Rita did not want to raise her children there, and she decided to get a government-sponsored house in Bull Bay, another city.

Bob ultimately bought the house in Bull Bay at Rita's request. Rita worked hard on developing her independence while she was raising the children there; she learned to drive and garden, and the garden yielded many fruits and vegetables. Aunty and other friends helped out, too.

Bob financially supported Rita and the children. He divided his time between the house in Bull Bay, the house at 56 Hope Road in Kingston, and tours. Rita and Bob's relationship seemed to be somewhat fluid here; on one hand, Rita describes herself as a "friend" or "sister," and she strongly contemplated divorce. But she also describes how she got a basement studio at the Bull Bay home, and how she and Bob would go down there to make out sometimes, or, more often, to make music. Sometimes, they'd even have little family "events" in that basement studio wherein the children, who were now a bit older and had strong interests in music themselves, could put on imaginary little shows for fun.

Although Bob constantly had girlfriends, he got inordinately jealous of Rita's friend and neighbor, Owen Stewart, known as Tacky. Tacky was not initially a romantic interest. However, Bob assumed he was. One night, Rita informed Bob that she didn't want to have sex anymore because of his constant philandering; she wanted to take a stand. But he was absolutely insistent, arguing that he should be able to have sex with her because she was his wife, until she finally went along with him. Rita comments, "I was almost raped that night."

It sounds like it was rape to me. And Rita got pregnant from it. She and Bob now had another son, Stephen.

Rita and Tacky had by then started having a sexual relationship, which Bob tried to confront Tacky about. One of Bob's girlfriends just happened to appear right while he was talking to Tacky, which was a massive embarrassment and which Tacky correctly used to point out Bob's hypocrisy. Bob stopped arguing, and Rita continued her relationship with Tacky. Rita also had a child with Tacky, a daughter named Stephanie, who Bob adopted.

Life, incredibly, moved on, and Rita suggested to Bob that she should start a juice bar with some of her produce at his Hope Road studio location. Bob agreed, and Rita started the stand that eventually became the Queen of Sheba restaurant. Everyone loved her organic food; Rita comments that Bob was her best customer and PR man.

While running the Queen of Sheba restaurant, Rita reconnected with some friends: Minnie, Judy, and Marcia. Minnie helped a great deal with the restaurant. Rita, Minnie, and Judy wanted to start a Rastafarian women's organization and school for Rastafarian children, while Rita, Judy, and Marcia agreed to sing together at a club. It was Rita's first public performance in a long time.

Right after this, The Wailers broke up. Specifically, Bob signed on again with the same record label and would still work with new singers as "Bob Marley and the Wailers," but the other Wailers, Peter and Bunny, left. They weren't happy with the way the label was headlining Bob. Bob felt deeply hurt by the group's dissolution, but he asked Rita, Marcia, and Judy to come sing backup with him in the studio and on tour.

Bob was paying Rita, as well as Marcia and Judy. But at the same time, Rita got to make music with Bob again, and she loved that. She was very happy to go on tour with him, partly out of a desire to spend time together again - through all the horrible things that had happened, they still loved each other and wanted to spend time together. Rita was also happy to be working on her own musical career. Rita, Marcia, and Judy had named their trio the I-Three, and this would be solid work for all of them.

Rita insisted on getting to be her own separate person on tour, a member of the I-Three instead of Mrs. Marley. She writes about wanting to continue looking after Bob on the road - ensuring his laundry was done and meals were eaten, for example. But otherwise, she stated, she was free to do whatever she wanted on the road in a way she couldn't be at home and wouldn't have been if she were expected to be acting as Mrs. Marley the whole entire time. She also, however, writes about missing her children and her home dearly.

Again, Bob and Rita's relationship continued to seem very fluid. Bob would get jealous if he thought other men were involved with Rita; there was even an incident when he came into her hotel room, started shouting when he saw a male friend in there, lifted Rita up off the bed, and dropped her back on the bed. But he also continued to have affairs and children with other women. Rita writes that she wasn't threatened by many of these women because there were so many of them and they didn't represent serious relationships. Rita also felt it was easier to just take Bob's children by other women into her home, and she often had friendships with their mothers. There were a few women who seemed serious enough for Rita to be hurt by their presence, but over and over again, she chose not to worry about it, because she viewed her role as more important.

Despite the difficulties of dealing with Bob's womanizing and being away from home, Rita chose to stay on tour for all those years because she was instrumental in holding together "such a good thing" - Bob's musical tours with the I-Three - and she sensed it was important to people all over the world. She also loved the sense of individual development she got from that time. Rita comments:

Take your troubles to the Lord and not to the people, I'd tell myself. So I did just that---I prayed. And I gave my part, I gave it honestly. I gave my part, from the heart, and I was paid for it. Paid every week, just like everybody else. So I could maintain myself, not just physically, but with a lot of spirit. And on good days, even though I wasn't altogether happy, I felt so independent, thinking, well, now I can do whatever I want, now I can buy clothes and shoes that I like, I can be---whew---just what I wanna be!

During the seven years they were touring (interspersed with time at home in Jamaica), Bob and Rita did have their arguments and fights, but they overall got along well and were still in love, so they solidified their relationship "as man and wife" again.

However, Rita still didn't feel individuated in the way she wanted to, so she signed with a record company named Hansa Music. Bob did not like this because he wanted to be the one to give Rita her big break; he wanted to keep the music in the family. He felt like white people (Hansa Music was a French company) were taking Rita away. But Rita and the record company were persistent, and he finally agreed to cooperate. Rita started working on her own individual music.

Bob had a political presence - people had come to think of him as "the voice of the people," and youth from the ghetto tended to look to him for help. People would come to Hope Road looking for favors and financial help, with which Bob was generous. But a lot of the people looking for help were mixed up with crime. He became anxious, even paranoid, as people sought help with matters that could endanger Bob and the family - people asking to stay at Hope Road to avoid gang violence, for example.

Eventually, the government asked Bob to do a peace concert called "Smile Jamaica" to encourage peace in the population before an election. Bob agreed, because he believed in peace.

Just after a rehearsal shortly before the concert, Bob and Rita were shot in an assassination attempt; Rita was shot in the head but the bullet didn't cause a fatal wound because of her thick dreadlocks, and Bob was grazed across the chest and shot in the elbow, where the bullet remained for the rest of his life.

Bob insisted on doing the concert anyway, with the bullet in his arm. Rita was up there with him, even though they hadn't been able to remove the bullet from her head yet, either.

After the assassination attempt, the shaken family spent some time in the Bahamas, in Nassau. Bob then went "into exile" in England, where he reconnected with one of his girlfriends. Rita and the children went back to Jamaica for school, but no longer felt safe in their Bull Bay home, so Bob bought a three-sister (three-family) house for them in Kingston. Rita and Bob continued to talk almost every day by telephone.

The political situation didn't lighten up - Bob's influence was being tracked in the United States, and this included intelligence agencies monitoring his mail - but he decided to return to Jamaica after about half a year because he missed his home. However, Bob returned to increased political activity, including more people asking for dangerous favors; again, gang members asked to stay in his home and wanted to act as his personal security.

Before what would be their last tour, Rita wanted to get a different house for the children. She and Bob disagreed on the house; Rita wanted a smaller but beautiful house on a hill overlooking Kingston, while Bob had plans to build a mansion he could settle into with all of his children and work on his music. Rita realized Bob was planning much more for himself and the children than for her, even though he also made a bunch of promises about being a better father, friend, and husband after this tour. He was planning to settle down. Rita told him that was nice, but still decided to put her advance from the tour toward the house on the hill.

During this next tour, Bob injured one of his big toes twice, first in 1975 - after which point it never fully healed because Bob would not give it a rest - and then again in 1977, after which the nail fell out and he developed malignant melanoma. He was advised to have the toe amputated. However, he refused, believing he couldn't perform without his big toe, that audiences wouldn't want to see that, and he was told the doctors were lying. He believed the doctors were lying.

They proceeded with the tour. Bob was extremely famous at this point, and Rita felt she was losing him; other people controlled all his time and influenced his every decision, and Bob felt obligated to keep up with all the demands, even at the expense of his own health. Eventually, Bob collapsed and was taken to the hospital, at which point he discovered his cancer had spread to his brain and he had only months to live. Because the diagnosis was terminal, Bob's managers were planning to keep him touring until he died, but Rita was outraged about this and called everyone she knew to insist on bringing the tour to a stop.

Bob did get cancer treatment, first in the US and then with a specialist in Germany. The German doctor, Dr. Josef Issels, managed to keep Bob alive six months longer than the other doctors believed was possible; however, he soon died very young, at the age of 36.

Rita was devastated. As they were both young, Bob's death was the first major loss Rita had experienced.

Moreover, Rita was immediately thrown into managing a ton of issues that had never been planned for. Rita was betrayed and taken advantage of by people who had been involved in managing Bob's finances, and she even ended up on trial because they accused her of misusing Bob's money after his death. However, everything Rita had used the estate's money for was legitimate. She acted according to the financial advice of his manager, and took care of the children, and paid for his funeral, and paid legal fees. Bob also simply was not as wealthy as people believed; his legacy has generated a lot of money over decades, indeed, but at the time of his death, he wasn't inordinately wealthy, or he wouldn't have felt so much pressure to do all that touring.

Summing up their relationship after Bob's death, Rita writes:

I thought Bob did the greatest thing by leading me to find myself. ... 'You are what you are, you are black and you are beautiful.' And I know there are many, many others who learned that same lesson from him.

Rita went on to carry Bob's legacy forward, keeping his music alive. In 2000, Time magazine awarded the "Song of the Century" title to Bob's song "One Love" and the "Album of the Century" title to Bob's album "Exodus." Bob's children now have musical careers, which Rita has nurtured.

Rita was able to set Aunty up, eventually, with everything she wanted, and Rita's father came home to spend time with his many grandchildren. Eventually they both passed away, and as keenly as she felt the losses, Rita was able to lean on her friends. Rita also had one more daughter named Serita with Tacky.

Over the past few decades, Rita has continued to pursue her dreams and live an incredibly active life. She has continued to promote Bob's music, but also moved to Ghana and started a nonprofit called The Rita Marley Foundation, caring for infants and the elderly. She has done a great deal of humanitarian work.

Worth noting that Rita structured this book so it ended with the same idea with which it started:

So I started to sing, as he told me to do, and just as he said it would be, everything was all right. Rastafari!

The Big Picture

The way I see it, a big part of No Woman No Cry is about identity and individual will. The concept of identity is in the ways we're defined by our connections, from intimate connections to large-scale social contexts, and in the ways we're defined by our own choices. It hit me with almost every chapter how strong Rita's individual will was while at the same time being interconnected and interdependent with so many other people in her life, and, of course, being shaped by her race and Jamaica's status as a colonized nation until 1962.

This book is also a study in the complexity of human connections - particularly, in how it is possible to meld hopes and dreams with another person's, and to unreservedly lean on other people, without losing one's sense of self. Rita and Bob chose to marry because they had mutual dreams; Rita chose to stay with Bob, though, because of the way she personally wanted to live. And she simultaneously pushed for her independence, which in the end was the thing that allowed her to do so much of her own humanitarian work and carry on Bob's legacy, too.

This pattern, wherein individual will and relationship connections mutually strengthened each other, carried out with all of Rita's close friends and loved ones. I'm thinking especially of Aunty - Rita and Aunty clashed a great deal in Rita's youth, and yet, each valued their family connection as much as their own individual will. They stuck together despite the friction; Aunty helped raise the children, and later, Rita was able to provide Aunty with a comfortable life. That in turn was possible only because of Rita's insistence on making her own choices while Aunty insisted on continuing to provide support.

Hand-in-hand with the concept of identity is memory. This is, after all, a memoir. Its very purpose is to solidify memories, to put them in the form of a book and to help other people understand Rita's life with Bob. When Rita explains her motivations in writing, she's giving her individual will, her choices, a material presence in the world. Although I don't believe Rita comments on this in the book, I'm imagining that the act of putting her memoir in writing helps solidify her power over the narrative of her life; by writing out our stories and the thoughts that inform them, we can illuminate the power our own choices have.

Another theme running strong throughout No Woman No Cry is faith. In high contrast to the themes of The Crow Road, Rita Marley's faith doesn't hold her back; it gives her strength and connects her to others. "Faith" for Rita means Rastafari. It helped her connect with her inherent worth as a black woman, and it helped her see her own success as part of a better world overall. Rita shores up her faith against the oppressive, authoritarian nature of colonialism. For Rita, faith isn't something that subdues her with dreams of another world; it's something that moves her to act in this one.

The book opens and closes with assurances that Rita should just keep moving forward (singing, in her case) and everything will be all right. That's also faith - the belief that she will succeed if she just presses forward, even if she's not sure how that can happen. Her spirituality allows her to tap into this, but it isn't specific to a particular belief system. It's just about being willing to believe, time and time again, that one foot in front of the other will ultimately lead somewhere good.

Altogether, I believe No Woman No Cry was on the Good Omens book club list because No Woman No Cry centers the depth of the human experience: the things that make us who we are, the ways we connect with other people, and how we can figure out where we belong.

#good omens book club #no woman no cry #rita marley

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