#but maybe they should be treated less as a call for argument and more like. idk. sitting in a room full of ppl with some heads nodding

[puppppppppy]

this could just be "gatekeeping but im being really polite abt it" but. its less abt thinking only certain ppl should be allowed in, and more like i dont wanna open a pandoras box that makes it difficult for everyone to have fun. shrugs

i wanna post my skip to loafer art but i cant do it knowing ppl are gonna put it on tiktok and pinterest bc itd be like. bringing an invasive species ykwim

[velvetvexations]

Okay, so like.

Someone can say they're not saying transmascs have it easier, but you are actually still saying that even if the way you're actually phrasing it is "transfems have it harder."

The thought-terminating cliché that AFAB people are allowed more room to navigate the way they express themselves in a gendered way is bobolynery. People who spread this to make themselves feel like even more a righteous victim are annoying and piss me off. That goes without saying. But the argument that AMAB kids will have less chances to explore options is equally ridiculous, because even if it may be true that in some areas and contexts women are allowed to wear pants, that is not and has never been a major component of egg cracking to begin with.

You can't simultaneously argue that this is not a gendered act yet also somehow something that helps an AFAB person identify with masculinity. Like, countless millions of women wear pants every day without being transmasc. If it's truly NBD, how does that work? How, might one imagine, are transmasc eggs cracked by wearing pants if they're surrounded by women doing the same thing every moment of their lives?

If anything, by this logic, it should be harder for transmasc eggs to crack! If the line keeping AMAB people from being women is so thick, wanting to paint your nails is an instant signal you might prefer identifying as a woman, whereas a short haircut is not that in any place where you propose the line keeping women from masculine presentation is thin.

But the idea that trans women would even need something like that is absurd. It is also, I suspect, tied into those chugging the radfem juice who call sissy kink (trans)misogynyistic for treating being a woman as degrading. Like, an absolutely massive number of people with a sissy kink are in fact actual trans women, because they grew up understanding that they wanted to be women but non-consensual degrading situations being their primary outlet for that.

I'm not saying it isn't great things are different now. Of course it's a beautiful, wonderful sign of progress that "haha cartoon where boy forced to wear lipstick" is no longer the only thing trans girls have to turn to. The point, however, is that an AMAB child understanding their desire to be seen as a girl has always been extremely common. I do not have the data to suggest it's overwhelmingly the majority, but it is certainly not rare compared to the amount of transmascs who have that same understanding of themselves. Even many transitioning for the first time as adults report having always known.

Maybe there are simply more transmascs than transfems because there just are? Have you considered that? That maybe there are just more transmascs than transfems and it's not because transmascs get the red carpet rolled out for them?

[adragonthatwrites]

Okay, I'm having some thoughts about the whole 'Hua Cheng is actually ugly Xie Lian's just blinded by love or whatever' argument so here comes a mini rant everyone!

There's is no actual evidence in the book (non-revised edition that I can remember) that supports Hua Cheng being unattractive. The only thing anyone ever actually called him ugly for was his eye. And even with that the main complaint people actually had about him throughout the book was that he was the actual devil, not that he was unattractive! So unless we've all decided that having heterochromia makes you ugly the argument about Hua Cheng actually being ugly/monstrous in appearance should be treated as head-cannon only. Xie Lian does not call Hua Cheng ugly, and neither do any of the other characters; so it's not just Xie Lian's perspective that tells us the man is not unattractive.

And listen, it is an interesting headcannon! I can see why people have it and so long as you don't yell at people who disagree more power to you! Have fun! (Hell, even I like to headcannon Hua Cheng with pointed ears and fangs, maybe some claws while we're at it!)

I do think it clashes somewhat with one of the major themes of TGCF though; that being that no matter what heights or lows you rise or fall to, you are, at the end of the day, human. And you deserve to be treated like a human, no matter what.

As a young boy Hua Cheng looked perfectly human same for a single perceived flaw and people treated him like a beast for it. They determined him to be less than human, for the simple sin of having an unusual physical attribute; in this case heterochromia. There was absolutely nothing about him that justified calling him a monster, and having him appear monstrous as a man would defeat some of that message.

He looks human, because at the end of the day he is, and he deserves to be treated like one.

[noosayog]

003 the grudge

✧ wc: 4.1k

✧ warnings/content: itoshi rin x reader, no gendered pronouns used but lease lmk if I missed any! sfw, angst to fluff (hopeful ending), arguments and lots of swearing. another fic where I project bc of messed up things my old romantic partners have said to me, hope y'all enjoy!

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

“How come you never ask me how my day is?” you ask. It’s quiet, like you’re scared of how he will respond. But you can’t help it. Every day, when Rin comes home from practice, you’re there to greet him at the door. You always have dinner ready no matter how tired you are. And every day, Rin grunts. On a good day, he gives you a peck on the cheek. On bad days, he throws his gym bag down and heads straight for the bath. Then, he comes to sit at the dinner table and eats silently. 

Just once, you’d like him to ask you how your day was. Maybe come home with flowers or a cake from the neighborhood bakery occasionally. You wouldn’t think it too much to ask, but the years of this routine make your question your every thought. You start to forget that being in a relationship shouldn’t consist of you walking on eggshells every day.

Rin looks up from his meal, swallowing before responding, “because you always tell me whether or not I ask.” 

It’s a reasonable response. But it’s cold and callous. Not the answer you were looking for. 

“But why can’t you just ask?”

He cocks his head. Confused, not annoyed. 

Not yet at least. 

“Why would I? If there’s something you wanna tell me, just say it.” 

“I just want you to want to ask sometimes. Makes me feel less like I’m forcing you to listen to me.” 

“You’re not.”

“I know, but that’s not the point.” 

“So what’s the point then?” 

You recognize the change in his tone. He’s starting to become irritated. 

“The point is that I just want you to show you care sometimes. Without having me to ask you to do it.” 

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear all the same. 

“Is it that unreasonable for me to ask that of you?” 

“Fine. How was your day?” he grits out, forcing a smile that looks more like he’s baring his teeth at you. 

“Rin, this isn’t what I want.” 

He puts his chopsticks down loudly. “You just said that’s what you wanted. So I’m doing it.”

“Not like this, Rin,” you say frustratedly, not sure how else you can communicate. “I just want you to want to be here with me. Act like you’re my boyfriend and that you’re happy to do it.” 

“I wouldn’t be here, living with you, if I didn’t. What else do you want from me?”

It’s condescending and patronizing. It makes you feel like you are being the childish one here. 

“Is it so hard that once in a while, you do something extra to show it?” you ask, voice small. “Like getting me flowers or even surprising me with a treat from the bakery I like?” 

Rin runs a hand down his face, not even bothering to hide how foolish he thinks this conversation is. You feel the sting behind your eyes start to build. 

“If you want flowers and a cake or something, just tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader. How would I know you want those things unless you tell me?” 

“I’m not saying I want flowers or a cake specifically. But-” 

“Then what do you want!” He's yelling now. “I’m telling you I’ll buy the damn flowers if you ask. You’re always expecting people around you to read your mind. Use your fucking words!” 

At that, you shrink away, closing in around yourself as you recall the phone call between the two of you months ago, having very much the same conversation. 

“You always expect the people around you to read your mind. Why don’t you use your fucking words when you want something?” 

That’s unfair, you think. In every other situation, you would agree. You do have a problem with communicating what you want. You know that. But should you really have to ask to have Rin tell you he loves you once in a while? For him to just show he cares by taking initiative and doing something nice for you? To want him to want to do something for you, even as simple as asking how your day was when he gets home without you having to ask? 

But your insecurities get the best of you and objectively, he’s right. You answer in a small voice, “Sorry, Rin.” 

There’s silence on the other line and for one second, you think that he’s going to apologize too and the floodgates would open and you two would open up and share everything that’s been building up. 

Instead, you hear a click. Rin had cut the line. 

When you have nothing else to say, Rin stands up, storming towards the bedroom, muttering, “Jesus, you’re always like this. Don’t start an argument if you can’t finish it.” 

The bedroom door slams. 

– 

Rin is used to silence, prefers it actually. He gets enough noise from the daily racket the Blue Lock team makes. So at night, when he comes home to you, he appreciates the way you let him be. He’s content to sit there, listening to you talk quietly about your day. Your voice is a soothing one in comparison to the rowdy, grating ones of his teammates. 

So when you ask him to take initiative to start the conversation sometimes, he’s uncomprehending. Your daily routine is fine as is; don’t his nods and noises of acknowledgement show that he’s listening to you? He gets enough nagging from Isagi and Bachira to talk more; he really doesn’t need to hear it at home too. 

He can’t understand what it is you want him to do, because you were the one who strong-armed yourself into his life, persistent in trying to converse with him at the coffee shop you both frequented, until he finally asked you out on a date. You were always the one to initiate conversation. 

So when you propose change to the relationship dynamic, Rin feels like you’re throwing a big wrench in the cogs that seem to be working perfectly fine. 

After a long, hot shower, Rin goes back into the bedroom, expecting to find you curled up in bed. Rin isn’t worried. Regardless of whether you were still sulking or ready to go back to your usual self, he knows from experience that he just needs to reach his arms out and you would be eagerly pushing yourself into his side of the bed to get as close as you possibly can. 

But when he enters the bedroom, the room is empty and the beddoor he slammed shut before remains closed. It’s then that he hears some shuffling in the living room, a couple of muffled sniffles and the quiet click of a door shutting. That wasn’t the sound of the spare bedroom door. That’s the sound of the front door. 

Immediately, Rin bolts out to the kitchen. There, he finds all the dishes cleaned and put away, the dining table wiped down. You are not to be found. 

Waves of frustration wash over him again. If you were going to be so upset about this, why won’t you just come find him and tell him? Rin thinks you could not have proved his point from your earlier argument any better than just up and leaving in a tantrum. 

He should call, he thinks. If it were him, he’d just prefer space, quiet, and some alone time, but knowing you, he thinks you’d appreciate at least a gesture. 

No, he rethinks. Just give them some time to calm down. 

Pushing down the wave of worry, he slumps onto the couch, telling himself you’ll come home soon. The seconds drag by like hours so he puts on game footage to rewatch to pass the time. The seconds do not pass by any quicker as he continues to glance at his phone between plays. 

Finally, he can’t handle it anymore and dials your number. The line rings once, twice, then he hears buzzing from the kitchen. Rin walks towards the source of the sound and finds your phone on the kitchen counter. It sits there, the buzzing continuing, mocking him. 

Rin lets it ring for a couple of moments longer before he grabs a coat and bolts out the door. 

Stupid! Who leaves without their phones? 

It’s well after sunset and dark outside. Even if the two of you live in a nice neighborhood, you should know better than to wander around by yourself after dark. Without your phone no less. 

How long has it been since you’ve left? 

As he runs by all the convenience stores in the area and the minutes go by without being able to find you, his irritation at your irresponsibleness morphs into guilt. He should’ve come out much sooner to find you, shouldn’t have let you cry by yourself. Now you’re out somewhere, crying all alone on the night streets of Tokyo. Irrational panic wells up in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of your vulnerable state. 

When he exhausts all of his options, he sighs, knowing the only place left unchecked is one of your friend's places. The same friends who he knows dislike him. The same ones who think you can do better. 

He reluctantly pulls out his phone to give your friends a call; if they pick up, he’ll come get you and the two of you will go home together. But the first thing that greets him is a text saying you’re fine and that you are indeed at a friend’s place to crash for the night. Unsure of where that leaves him, he returns to your shared apartment. 

And as Rin sits with the sterile kitchen and unusual quiet of the space, for the first time ever, he really contemplates the idea of you finding someone better. He dimly remembers a similar conversation the two of you had, perhaps over the phone a while back? Through all the years he has known you, he supposes it is a habit of yours to want things without vocalizing them. Like the times the two of you are watching a movie together and you look between his cup of tea and the kitchen until he gets the hint to go make you a cup. Or when you’re eating together and you stare at his plate until he spoons some of whatever he’s having into your waiting mouth. Rin’s not too sure how those unremarkable situations are different from what happened at dinner tonight. 

And while Rin has never minded taking care of you and learning all the ins and outs of your body language, he’s realizing that these little things that rarely register in his mind may have been snowballing in yours. 

But on days when he comes home, totally spent from practice, he acknowledges that he won’t be able to put the effort into fulfilling your unsaid desires. And that’s almost every day. 

So as he sits on the couch, visualizing a life of yours without him, he thinks it might be for the best. He waits at home for you. When you come home, the two of you can have a mature conversation about a future where you are with someone who can make you happy. 

–

It’s late morning when you return home, unsurprisingly but not unexpectedly finding the apartment empty. Rin has gone to practice. 

You berate yourself for even wishing for one moment that Rin would have skipped practice to wait for you.

You suppose it’s like all your expectations of Rin: things piling up that you wish he would do but you never ask him for. 

You busy yourself cleaning, reading, watching TV, napping. The day passes by painfully slowly. You finally hear the click of the front door right as you finish preparing dinner – an elaborate meal of Rin’s favorites as your way of meeting him in the middle. 

You greet him at the door and after he takes off his shoes and drops his bag, he meets your eyes. There’s no detectable expression; he doesn’t look particularly surprised, upset, nor happy to see you at home waiting for you. 

What he does do, however, is walk up to you and pull you into his arms. 

His gesture overwhelms you. It’s not exactly what you’ve been asking for, but it’s enough. You sniffle lightly into his jacket. He just holds you and you let him – it’s precisely what you want and need. 

After a while of the two of you simply standing together in the entryway, your arms around his waist remain tight as you ask, “what are you thinking about, Rin?” 

He’s silent but squeezes your shoulders. 

A smile overtakes your lips. That’s when you remember you had prepared dinner for him. This seems like an appropriate time to offer it up as an apology, but Rin doesn’t seem to be ready to move. 

You let go, intending to lead him to the dinner table, but even as your arms unwind from around him, his hold remains tight. 

“Rin?” 

“I’m thinking about how I’m going to let you go.” 

You freeze. 

Rin doesn’t say anything more. He lets the words hang in the air and no matter how long the two of you stand there, the words don’t change. 

“I thought you came home to make up with me,” you say. 

Rin still refuses to let go. “I’ve thought about it,” he says quietly, slowly. “I think I finally get what you want from me. But I can’t give you that. I can’t be different and that might mean that I can’t be what you want. At least not in an emotional partner.” 

You shove him away. “You don’t know that! How can you know what I want! I never-” 

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t think I can give you what you want without needing you to ask for it. And I think you deserve someone who can.” 

You shake your head, different tears rearing to make an appearance. “You said it yourself, Rin. You’re not a mind-reader. I know I have to do a better job of telling you when I…” 

He shakes his head too. 

“No, I don’t think you’re asking too much. I think you’re completely right. But I can’t do it. There’s definitely someone else out there who can do it for you.” 

“If it’s not too much to ask, then why can’t you try! Why are you just giving up? You’re so unwilling to try that you’d rather break up?!” 

You’re hysterical at this point. Rin’s calm demeanor just makes it worse. 

“I love you,” Rin says solemnly. “but I can’t keep hurting you like this. Especially when I know I can’t change.” 

Rin says every word deliberately, with finality. Every word drains more and more fight from you. 

“Cant? Or won’t?” 

Rin only meets your gaze steadily. 

There are no more words, no more fight you have left. What more can you do but say okay? 

– 

For Rin, everything has gone exactly as he had expected. He would go even as far as to say that the night the two of you agreed to break up, he slept dreamlessly. He went to practice the following day and performed just as usual. He had dinner alone, but he’s no longer in a position to wonder where you spent dinner and so he cleans up and showers and falls into another fitless sleep. 

It’s only when the weekend comes around that something starts to stir. 

As agreed, you decide to move out despite Rin offering the apartment to you. It was a strange feeling when you had told him the apartment had too many memories for you to remain in it alone. He has never thought of it that way before, associating a tangible thing to an intangible feeling, unless it was a soccer ball flying into a goal. 

Sae had come over to help you move out. 

During your years of dating, Rin was aware that you and his older brother got along well. While your friendship with his brother had never really bothered him, he had also never considered you closer to Sae than he, himself, to Sae. 

So he finds it uncomfortable that Sae is the one helping you leave. 

But despite his initial reservations, the morning goes by uneventfully, the two brothers packing your things away into boxes. 

After lunch, you decide to join Sae to pack your half of the kitchen while Rin takes the bathroom. It takes him less than 30 minutes to separate all your items from his, a variety of colorful bottles and jars that he’s never touched. It takes even less time to pack them away into one single plastic container. 

Something strikes Rin in the gut when he realizes how easy it is to pack years into a single box. Unable to shake the punching feeling in his gut, he picks up a bottle of lotion that has been untouched by either of you for years to ask if you’d like to take it. He could care less about the lotion but he needs to walk away from the unfamiliar sight of the sink now only decorated with a sparse scattering of his grey-tone products. 

When he turns the corner to the kitchen, he sees you sitting on the counter, dictating items for Sae to grab from the cabinets. The domesticity between the two of you in his home makes the punchy feeling he wants to run from punch harder. 

He watches Sae point at a matching set of mugs, ones that Rin remembers easily. He surprises himself with how easily the memory of those mugs resurfaces: a vivid image of the two of you in a home goods store picking your first couple’s mugs. You shake your head and Sae moves to the next items in the cabinet. Rin’s gut wrenches at how easily you make your decision to leave those mugs behind. 

The next items are a set of glasses the two of you had bought as a souvenir on a weekend trip to Osaka. They weren’t matching, one of the glasses littered with various cute images associated with Osaka and the other with only printed lettering of “Osaka” on it. Despite the contrasting designs, he remembers you putting the glasses that each of you individually picked out together and squealing over how they look like a matching set. He didn’t understand then but as he watches you direct Sae to pack the glass with the cute images and leave the glass with the simple lettering, he starts to understand. His glass gets left in the cabinets. 

When the cabinet has been picked and chosen through to your liking, Sae moves over to where you’re sat on the counter and offers his hand to help you off. You take it and hop off. The scene that unfolds next is what finally makes Rin realize that the uncomfortable feeling in his chest is akin to that of a heart attack, no, even more pedestrian – jealousy. 

He watches as your expression crumbles and you bury your face into your hands. It hits him that it’s the first time he has seen you cry after the breakup. And on instinct, he begins to walk to where you are to offer comfort, but it’s Sae who wraps one arm around you and runs his hands up and down your arm. 

It strikes Rin then. 

It's one thing to think about letting you go be with someone who is the partner you deserve. 

It's another to actually do it and see it. It's another thing to go through with it. 

And the most jarring realization today is that maybe Rin is more capable of what he had originally thought. Maybe he can’t read your mind, but the years of being with you, living with you, loving you, has taught him that he can understand you without needing you to say anything. 

Like right now. Sae has one arm around your trembling figure, pulling you into his side, but what you really want is someone who will wrap both arms around your shoulders. You’d push your damp face into the nearest neck or collarbone when one arm comes up to cradle your head. You’d whimper when the one holding your nuzzles their face against your hair. It’s muscle memory. 

For both you and him. 

And just like that, Rin changes his mind. 

He charges onto the scene. 

“I’ll take it from here.” 

– 

“I’ll take it from here.” 

Sae lifts his arm from your shoulder, but by instinct, you cower, stepping behind him, just enough to hide your face. It takes you a few seconds to pull yourself together, school your expression to face Rin. When you look up, you find that the brothers have come to some sort of silent understanding, Sae nodding and patting your head before vacating the apartment, leaving you and Rin and the thick haze of tension. 

Sae forgotten, you swipe messily at your face one last time for stray tears, playing it off as wiping the sweat from your forehead. 

You turn back to the cabinets, busying yourself by reaching up for the remaining mugs. “We almost finished the kitchen. I just need to go through a couple more cupboards and…” 

“Hey.” 

You feel him before you hear him. Rin is all up in your space, one hand resting on the counter to your left, caging you against the counter. 

“Stop,” his commanding voice tells you. 

You turn around. 

“Can I take it back?” he asks. 

You fluster. 

“Oh! Um,” you respond, voice startlingly loud. “The mugs? Which one did you want to keep? I didn’t mean to take-” 

“Not that,” he stops your rambling. “Can I take what I said back? About breaking up. I want to take it all back.” 

He pries the mug from between your fingers and sets it back into its home in the cupboards. 

“What does ‘take it back’ mean?” you squeak out. 

“It means I don’t want to break up anymore.” 

Your mouth moves faster than your brain. 

“You can’t just take a break up back.” 

“So how can I do it then? I’ll do anything.” 

“You can’t!” you raise your voice then. “You just… can’t.” the last word uttered as a whisper. 

“Yes, we can. Tell me what to do. I’m sorry. Sorry. I know you do a lot for me and I thought I couldn’t do that for you. But I know I can. I can do it better than anyone else. So please, let me take it back.” 

“Do you even know what we were arguing about in the first place? Do you remember that one time, so long ago, you said the same thing to me over the phone? To use my fucking words? Well maybe you don’t, but I remember every word.”

“I remember,” he says honestly. “And I’m sorry I said it that way. So much that it hurt you. So much that you still remember the exact words I said to you. But I don’t need to read your mind.

“Though I would like you to tell me explicitly what you like sometimes,” he adds thoughtfully. 

“But, I’ve loved you for long enough now that I don’t need to read your mind to know what you need. Maybe I won’t always know what you want, so I’ll still need you to tell me sometimes, but I always know what you need.” 

A lot of the things Rin says are very matter of fact and this is no different. He knows before you do that you’ll give in. 

He closes the small distance and pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s enough to open the floodgates. 

“Do you even know how many hours I’ve spent practicing arguments against you in my head? In the shower, in the car, when I’m getting ready for bed? You can’t just say a few sorry’s and think it’s enough.” 

“Mhm,” he nods, cradling your head in a way you know he knows makes you the most vulnerable. 

“I make you feel so guilty in my imagination. I don’t want to feel like that anymore,” you sob. 

“Yeah,” he says, continuing to stroke your hair.

“And you can’t talk to me like that anymore.” 

“I won’t,” he promises. 

He lets you soak his shirt with tears and after what feels like hours, you finally bring your hands up to clutch tightly at his shirt. 

“So how was your day?” he asks. 

You pinch his sides. “Not now, idiot.” 

You hear him chuckle a bit, the vibrations against your body comforting. He continues holding you, though, just the way you know he knows you like.

[storiesforallfandoms]

one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr;8 mile

word count: 3481

request?: no

description: she’s always been viewed as just “one of the guys” despite having feelings for one of her friends, and now it’s looking likely that she’s going to lose him to the wannabe model

pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader

warnings: swearing, pining

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Jimmy and Future since we were a bunch of snot nosed kids causing trouble on the playground in elementary school. Cheddar Bob was next, having followed us around like a lost puppy until we finally adopted him. Iz and Sol joined our little group in high school, and then we were complete.

For as long as I had known the guys, they considered me to be...well, one of the guys. Even after I went through puberty and actually started looking like a girl, I was still just one of the guys. It didn’t bother me for the most part. When you’re a kid, it doesn’t really matter if you’re a boy or a girl. We all played the same, caused trouble the same. But when we hit puberty, I found myself not liking being considered “one of the guys” anymore.

Especially when I realized I had feelings for Jimmy.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a part of the friend group and I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends. What I definitely could ask for, though, was for those friends to recognize I was a woman and treat me as such. Namely, I wished Jimmy would realize that.

One Friday evening, just like every Friday evening, I had just pulled into my driveway and was walking up to my front door when I heard another car pulling up behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Future.

“Get your ass changed, we’re going out!” he called.

“Future, I just got home,” I said.

“So?”

“So maybe I don’t want to go out with you chuckle fucks after I just worked an eight hour shift.”

“We both know that’s not the truth.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. He was right, I did want to go out. We went out every Friday night. It was a group tradition at this point. If I was seriously turning it down, there’d have to be something wrong with me.

“Give me 10 minutes,” I told Future before slipping into my house to change.

I was in and out in less time than I told him. I just changed out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt, and was ready to go again. I got into the passenger seat of Future’s car and he didn’t even wait for me to buckle myself in before he was backing out of my driveway and driving off to get the others.

“I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you,” I joked as I managed to buckle my seatbelt.

“Well, lucky for you, Jimmy agreed to drive tonight. His car can hold more people anyways.”

“Who else is going with us?”

“Just the usual.”

I looked over at Future in confusion. His tone definitely made me think there was someone else coming along for the night, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tell me. I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be joining us that Future wouldn’t want to tell me about beforehand.

We pulled into the trailer park and parked next to Jimmy’s car. Jimmy was exiting his trailer before we were even out of the car, as usual. Jimmy was usually waiting for us to show up and would be itching to leave his mom’s place as soon as he could. Jimmy gave Future one of their high five hugs, and patted me on the shoulder. It was just a step up from me also getting a high five hug, but not by much.

We got into Jimmy’s car, all three of us in the front. We started for Iz and Sol first, then Cheddar Bob. Once the car was full it was nothing but noise as each of the guys was talking over one another with Jimmy’s radio blaring as extra noise.

“How was work, by the way?” Jimmy asked me over the current argument between Future and Sol.

“Same bullshit as always,” I responded.

“I guess we should be lucky you even agreed to come out with us after working all day, meanwhile all we do is sit on our asses like a bunch of bums.”

I playfully nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you work, too.”

“I wouldn’t consider the Stamping work.”

I chuckled. I noticed then that we weren’t headed for the club. “Where are we going?”

“To pick up Alex.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I looked over at Future. I couldn’t tell if he was actually deep in conversation with Iz or if he was just ignoring me. So this was who was joining us that he didn’t want to tell me about.

Alex.

She was a girl Jimmy had met at his work. She was a model apparently, or was trying to be one. Jimmy didn’t talk about her much, but the other guys didn’t waste a single moment in teasing him about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize he liked her.

Alex was waiting as Jimmy pulled up. She was wearing her usual mini skirt so short that you could basically see everything whenever she moved. It made me feel very self conscious about my choice in jeans.

Future opened the door and got out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. I already knew the answer and hoped he’d see the look of begging on my face.

“I’ll get in the back with the idiots,” he said. “I’d assume Alex will be more comfortable pressed up against you instead of Sol.”

“Yo, fuck you!” Sol snapped.

I hoped my clenched jaw would go unnoticed as Alex slid into the seat next to me. Her eyes immediately went to Jimmy and they shared a smile that made me wish I could throw myself from the moving car.

We got to the club and piled into our usual table while Future got the first round of shots. Cheddar Bob and Iz were sat on one end, I was in the middle, Jimmy and Alex were sat next to me, and Sol had pulled up a chair. When Future returned, he slid in next to Cheddar Bob. The table chorused with cheers as we held up our shots then shot them back.

I tried to play it cool, but having to sit next to Alex and Jimmy while they were flirting up a storm was making me more tense by the minute. When Sol offered to get the next round of drinks, I jumped to give him the money to buy me two of the strongest drinks he could for me. I downed the first one quickly, but took my time with the second. It didn’t take long for the shot and the first drink to kick in. My head was spinning and I felt care free and light as air.

At some point, when the drinks had hit me hard enough, I shoved against Iz’s shoulder and said (or rather slurred), “Hey, can you guys move? I gotta pee.”

“Yo, go the other way,” Future said. “There’s three of us here and only two on your other side.”

“You’re gonna break the dam this early in the night?” Sol asked. “You may as well sit on the end when you come out. You’ll be back and forth for the next few hours.”

“Look, I don’t care who moves and I don’t care where I sit when I come back, I just have to pee now.”

“Here, we’ll move,” Jimmy said.

He and Alex moved out of the booth and allowed me to get out. When I stood, I realized just how drunk I already was as I almost immediately lost my balance. I felt someone grab hold of me as the rest of the table chorused in laughter at my drunkenness. When I looked up, it was Jimmy that had taken hold of me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I’m getting you water when you come back,” he said. “And you gotta pace yourself.”

“You’re always looking out for me,” I said. “You’re such a good friend.”

I put emphasis on the friend for my own benefit, but there was also some level of petty in the word. A reminder for both of us that that was the only way he saw me: as a friend. One of the guys that he went out drinking with every weekend, that he smoked with in the basement of someone’s house, that he ran around Detroit with causing mayhem since we were tykes.

I saw a look flash across his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, but I assumed I was just seeing things in my drunken haze.

I managed to make it to the bathroom on my own without incident. Once I was safely inside of a stall, I was able to sit down again. I almost didn’t want to get up and go back out to the table. Sitting was safe. The world didn’t spin when I was sat down. But I also couldn’t be sat on the toilet in a club bathroom all night either. I knew Sol was right about me going back and forth to the bathroom now that I had broken the dam, but if I put enough time between this bathroom visit and the next, maybe the spinning wouldn’t be as bad by then.

When I stepped out of the stall to wash my hands, I jumped to see that someone was waiting there.

Alex.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

I waved away her apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear anyone else come in.”

I stepped around her to wash my hands. She turned to face me as I did. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

I looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Is there anything going on between you and Jimmy?”

The question took me by surprise. Why would she think there was anything between us? In all the time that Jimmy had known Alex, I had only met her once before after the lot of us had run into her at a house party. I remembered Jimmy only having eyes for her that night, too. There was no reason I could even fathom that she would believe Jimmy and I had a thing going on when he was so clearly into her.

“No,” I said. “He’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”

“And that’s it? Just friendship?”

“Yeah. What’s this about?”

She sighed. “I really like Jimmy, and I thought he liked me, too. But he’s never really asked me out or anything yet. I didn’t know if maybe you two had a thing going on and I read the whole situation wrong. I’ve known far too many guys who claim to be just friends with a girl and turns out they’re actually fucking around.”

Trust me, I wish that’s what was going on here.

Against my better judgement, I put my hands on Alex’s shoulders and said, “If you really like Jimmy and you want things to be more serious, maybe you should make the first move.”

She looked as though she had never even considered that option. “You think so? That won’t seem too...direct?”

“Who gives a shit? Why do men always have to be the ones to make the first move? Most of them are fucking idiots anyways and wouldn’t know if a girl liked them even if she was telling him to his face.” Alex chuckled. “If you want him, go get him.”

She nodded. I was taken by surprise when she suddenly pulled me into a hug. I reluctantly patted her on the back and tried to put the best smile I could muster on my face.

“You’re the best,” she said. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

I bit my tongue as she hurried out the bathroom door.

That interaction was enough to sober me up more than I wanted. I could feel myself tearing up, but tried to fight it back. I turned to lean against the sink and looked up at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but notice everything that Alex had that I didn’t: gorgeous face, sexy voice, body of a model. I couldn’t even dream of leaving the house in a skirt as short as hers without feeling completely embarrassed and exposed. Of course Jimmy would like her, and of course he was going to say yes when she asked him to go out with her.

I hung my head as the tears slipped from my eyes and ran down my face into the sink. I prayed no one would come into the bathroom and find me here crying, and luckily someone was looking out for me because no one did. Once I felt like I had cried myself dry, I quickly splashed my face with cold water and tried to pretend everything was alright. I figured everyone was going to question where I had been for so long, but I didn’t feel like coming up with a fake answer to tell them. If I told them to fuck off, they wouldn’t pry.

My steps faltered a little when I exited the bathroom and saw that Alex and Jimmy were missing from the table. I was tempted to go right to the bar and get another drink, but I pushed through and went back to my group of friends.

“Hey, you good?” Future asked as I sat down in the booth.

“Yeah, just sobered up a little,” I responded. “Where did Jimmy and Alex go?”

“Alex asked to talk to him in private,” Cheddar Bob responded. “But that was a while ago, so who knows where they are now.”

I noticed both Future and Iz elbow him, causing him to spill some of his drink on himself. I didn’t care to imagine where Jimmy had taken Alex after she asked him out. I didn’t need to have that image burned in my mind for the rest of the night.

Everyone went back to their conversations, but I found myself not paying any attention to them. I kept glancing around the club, expecting to see Jimmy and Alex tucked away in a private corner, sucking face as if they were trying to blend into one person. Or maybe they’d be on the dance floor, practically dry humping in front of everyone. I didn’t think Jimmy was one to dance, but Alex had enough allure that she could’ve probably convinced him. But I didn’t see them, and that almost made it all worse.

Eventually I stood from the table suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “I need some air.”

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Cheddar Bob asked.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I said. I turned and quickly made for the exit.

Once I was outside, I breathed in the cool night air. It filled my lungs, but it didn’t seem to help soothe me at all.

“You alright?”

“Jesus!” I hissed as I turned towards the voice. It was Jimmy, leaning up against the club. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Free country,” he said with a shrug. “Are you good?”

“Just needed air. It felt very stuffy inside.”

I walked over to stand next to him. The rough brick wall dug into my back through my t-shirt. It was cool out, but not enough to make me feel like I needed a jacket or anything. I was standing so close to Jimmy that I could feel the heat coming from his body anyways.

“Where’s Alex?” I asked. “The guys said you two went off to talk in private.”

“She left,” he responded.

I looked at him in shock. “What? And went where?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”

“Don’t you think you should’ve driven her? It’s not exactly the safest for her to be walking alone at night.”

“I offered, but she turned it down. Said she didn’t wanna see me ever again.”

I’ve definitely missed a lot of things here. “What happened?”

Jimmy sighed. “Well, she got up and went to the bathroom after you, said something about wanting to make sure you were okay where you were so drunk. Then when she came back she asked me if we could talk in private. She brought me outside and told me how she had been waiting for me to ask her out properly since we first met and she was tired of waiting, so she made the first move to ask me if I wanted to go on an official date with her.”

“And you said...”

He looked at me for a second before responding, “No. Obviously.”

Well, yeah, it was obvious that he said no. But what wasn’t obvious was why he had said no.

“I thought you were into her,” I said.

He laughed. “Who told you that?”

I shrugged. “The guys seemed convinced you were.”

“The guys don’t know shit about shit. They just like talking a big game and making fun of each other.” I just looked at him, waiting to see if there was any more he had to say. He looked at me then away again. “No, I’m not into her. She’s beautiful, yes, but I don’t see her that way.”

“Wait, so if you don’t see her like that, then why did you invite her tonight?”

“I didn’t. She was at the Stamping today and asked if she could come along. I guess this was her plan.”

Well, it wasn’t her plan until I told her to go after Jimmy, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I felt like everything had just been flipped upside down. I was so sure that Jimmy had been reciprocating Alex’s feelings. It seemed like that anyways. Or maybe it seemed like that because I was making it seem that way. I was projecting something onto the two of them that wasn’t really there, I guess because of my jealousy?

“Sucks that she didn’t handle the rejection well,” I said.

“It wasn’t the rejection, it was the reason I rejected her.”

My brows furrowed together. “The reason being...you didn’t like her like that?”

“No. Well...yes. Kind of.”

“You know, for a man who can freestyle, you’re god awful with your words right now.”

He laughed and lightly nudged me with his shoulder. “It was the reason I said I don’t have feelings for her. I told her that I don’t like her because I like someone else and she didn’t handle that very well.”

I could feel my stomach turning to knots again. “Oh? Didn’t like the competition?”

“No, she said something along the lines of she should’ve trusted her gut, and that all guys who hang out with girls end up fucking them in the end.”

It took a second for what he said to register in my brain. When it did, I thought back to Alex talking to me in the bathroom and asking me if there was anything going on between Jimmy and I because she knew of too many guys who were friends with girls who they were actually fucking. Then, I put the pieces together in my head.

When I turned to look at Jimmy again, he was already watching me, waiting for me to come to the conclusion. “Me?!”

“Jesus, that took you long enough.”

“What do you mean that took me long enough?! Why the fuck haven’t you told me?!”

“Because you’re my best friend! We’ve known each other since kindergarten. If I told you I liked you and you didn’t like me back, that would fuck everything up between us and within the friend group. I would rather feel this way in silence than risk losing you as a friend.”

“If you had told me I would’ve told your dumbass that I like you, too, and I have since high school.”

“Wait...for real?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, for real!”

We both stood in silence. We shared a look, and then a smile broke out on Jimmy’s face. I couldn’t help but mirror it, and soon we were both laughing. With the absurdity of the situation, we couldn’t not laugh.

“We’re both dumbasses,” I said between fits of laughter.

“I guess so,” Jimmy agreed. “That brings up the question, though, of where do we go from here?”

“Well, I think we try a date, just the two of us and not those other idiots in there, and we see how things progress from there.”

He smiled. “Okay, I like that idea.”

“And we promise that if things don’t work out, we stay friends.”

“And we don’t tell the guys about any of this.”

I laughed. “Okay deal.”

[sulcldoll]

I was thinking about the way people are treated in society based on their sexuality which made me realize it is truly femininity of gay men that people hate so much, and Bill Williamson is a perfect example.

Bill isn’t even canonically gay, the implications are very much there but it’s never explicitly said, yet so many people seem oddly ok with it. Obviously, that’s how it should be but it isn’t, people usually have a problem with speculating a characters sexuality being something other than straight. (Especially in a game like red dead.) Yet somehow, both sides agree on this with seemingly little argument. At first the side who isn’t in support is confused and doesn’t think that’s true, but being shown the evidence they’re like ‘oh ok yeah he’s gay’. And then the queer/ally folks are like ‘yeah no shit’. And then it’s all quiet (mostly) from the ones not in support. They seem to have no qualms about it (from what I’ve seen) and I fully believe it’s because of how obnoxiously masculine he is. He doesn’t act like how one imagines a typical gay man which is fragile and feminine. I feel like I can guarantee if he was less masculine and more feminine people would have way more of an issue with it. (Like calling rockstar woke or making fun of him more)

Idk maybe I’m talking out of my ass and I haven’t seen a lot of how people talk about him, but that’s just what I’ve seen. Recent events in America just had me thinkin 🥲

[proship-confessional]

okay apparently i wasn't done with the gacha talk, heres my thoughts on whats known as, Gacha Heat (aka sexual depictions/themes made via the gacha games) ask 99/100 people within the gacha community, and you'll be told gacha heat is disgusting and shouldn't exist. honestly, likely the closest i had to an anti a few years ago. if you ask me, it lies within purity culture ranks. the main argument goes as follows "Gacha is a kids game, and children shouldn't be exposed to sexual material". fair point, to an extent. there are a lot of people using gacha who are say, under the ages of 10. while i don't agree that children should be entirely blind to sex as a concept, i can understand how what is basically porn wouldn't be good for a child of those ages or younger to be consuming. heres where my main issue lies. while it is in its basis a game targeted at younger children, the places where they're most likely to see gacha porn are social media's. so, youtube, tumblr, sites of the such. now the thing is, all of these sits are 13+, and if you haven't seen a drawn on dick by the age of 13, congrats, because honestly god damn thats impressive. now, i understand, mostly with youtube where parents make accounts for their children, theres less of a filtering system, and you can find god damn anything, maybe gacha porn (calling it that bc i hate the term "gacha heat" so much) wouldn't be the best thing to post. i'm going to mostly focus on tumblr, for this part. tumblr, land of tags, easy blocking, and filtering my love. as long as it's tagged correctly, kept in the right areas, then i think it's fine. of course, theres going to be slipups, but again, most gacha porn is little more than a drawn on dick, sometimes a vagina or boobs. why i think gacha porn shouldn't be as demonized as it is? a few reasons. my main one being: almost any kid of the age of 13 or older (again, almost every single social medias required age) gets horny. and i'd much rather a teen of any age explore sexual desires through a dressup game then get hurt. because a horny teen is a stupid teen, let me tell you, and a stupid teen is a vulnerable teen. and i think teens should be able to express sexual urges and desires, that sexual thoughts in itself are fine and shouldn't be demonized. because there are going to be kids out there who made gacha porn, it got into circles it shouldn't have, and they were shunned for having sexual desires and thoughts, to the point sexuality in itself was considered bad in their minds, further feeding the cycle. instead of yelling at younger kids/teens for having sexual thoughts, teach them how to handle it safely, if they want to post their gacha porn, let them, and teach them how to properly display it in a way no ones going to get hurt. because it's gotten to the point where you can't have a new gacha mod, and have a god damn croptop without seeing things like "i hope the gacha heaters don't find this", or even getting "accused" of it. a lot of people treat gacha porn like how anti's treat people who are proship, and thats not okay. people shouldn't be hurt and demonized by the way they express their sexual desires, in any shape or form. there may be some flaws in this, i might be biased, but thats my thoughts on it

all of this!!!! yes!!!!!

[casscainmainly]

Hi! ✨ I was wondering what you thought about Duke's part in the latest episode of WFA?

Hi!! So I was very optimistic given last week's We Are Robin intro, and my hopes aren't dashed or anything. (I don't have FastPass btw so I'm talking about the latest free one!). Duke was fine here, him pushing back against Damian is maybe the first time he's stood against anyone in WFA so it's definitely an improvement! The conflict fuels Damian's character, though, not Duke's, which is still disappointing.

Obviously in canon neither Duke nor Damian would've been so nice in their argument, but WFA is a universe where every emotion is halved so I'm not mad about that. I am a bit wary about Damian vs. We Are Robin kids, and the rhetoric about 'field training' and 'field readiness'; firstly, this is a watered down version of what we already got in Robin War, and secondly it shows a misunderstanding of what We Are Robin is. Having Damian beat up Riko and Dax, even if he's called out for it, just kinda fuels the image that We Are Robin aren't 'real' Robins and need proper Bat training. Idk this was an issue in Robin War too, but the point of We Are Robin is that they're not trained like Bats! They're something separate, and that is their strength!!

I just think a WAR + Damian story could be so good if you treated both sides as equals. They both challenge each other' ideas about Robin; Damian has relationships with both Duke and Izzy; in fact, a story about Duke's loyalty between Damian and WAR would be so intriguing! This episode uses Duke + WAR more or less as a prop for Damian, so it isn't the best, but hopefully it's just a temporary thing and we actually get WAR/Duke spotlight next.

Anyway I will stay tuned in as long as We Are Robin are here so I'm hopeful they'll have bigger character/story moments later!! This is just the second ep they've been in so we'll see. For Duke, the major things WFA has left to fix are: 1) his personality (we still need way less 'timid'/normal Duke); 2) mention his parents more!! 'i don't talk about my parents much' are you kidding; 3) differentiate his relationships a little more. He should not interact with Cass and Dick in the same way! But this is kinda a WFA problem across the board rather than a Duke-specific one. Curious to hear other Duke fans' thoughts!

[ctheathy]

WRITE ME REDSON X MALE READER 😭 DID I DO IT GOOD NOW!????

Red Son General Headcanons

Redson x Reader

General+Fluff Headcanons

Author’s note: Nuh uh you did absolutely TERRIBLE😡. I should just solve the problem and ban you from my account right now. You even went against my rules dipshi- [The requester and I are friends, don't cancel me]

Possibly OOC, but I tried. I had to depend on the wikipedia for information cause I've never even watched Monkie Kid to begin with. This was really just an exception for a friend of mine.

Redson/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Male Reader! • Paranoia

The level of priority towards reputation are often known to depend on a rank one was born into or the image they created for themselves over the course of time, which in this case is undoubtedly high... Redson has been shown to hold a lot of family pride and takes any chance to prove his authority over his subclasses. It's safe to say the the demon bull is likely going to have some difficulty swallowing his ego to allow emotional connections to grow and much less legitimise a romantic relationship with someone from the group he has grown acquainted with.

He can also be known to be rather petty and too prideful to accept his flaws. So if happens to be something that irritates you, you're definitely going to end up having one or more squabbles with the son of the Demon Bull King. Especially when it comes to Redson having a fierce temper and such, resulting in him trying to lecture you and get a completely insignificant point across. But I also believe you'd be more capable of keeping him in line instead of if you were to just go along with his behaviour. But it can also cause in a feast of awkwardness, as there have been several occasions where you embarrassingly have to hold Redson back from lashing out at a laughing MK and Mei for calling your arguments a lover's quarrel.

Though even with his high-and-mighty and hostile nature, it is important to remember that as long as a bond is formed, he won't ever actually harm or even remotely think of hurting you. Like, at all. He can be a bit bigmouthed at times, but many of his words should regularly be taken with a grain of salt. He is quick to snap at anyone from time to time, but I believe your presence would definitely keep him tame to a certain degree, as your mere existence just happens to soothe him. So on the bright side, you might be able to kick him off his high horse for the first time during his five hundred years of life.

I can picture Redson having grown up under a domain of regulation where females are generally and more often treated extra delicately due to being more ‘fragile’, so you can expect him to behave firmer, a bit more rough yet open to his real self a lot faster than if you were a female. He'll see you less as a ‘target’ for a lack of better term, and more as a comrade. Plus, if you were to give him the approval he lacked from his parents, it wouldn't feel uncomfortable as long as you have had the opportunity to create a connection. Though primarily, I cannot view intimate scenarios as anything other than plain awkward for a little while. You're gonna have to be the one initiating the hugs with him and give implications to get more touchy feely. Though when surrounded by eyewitnesses, he'll often still end up shooing you away ...you'll perhaps, just maybe absolutely get to hold his hand at most.

I mean, when's the last time you've seen somebody behaving sappy and all goo-goo with the literal son of the Demon Bull King out in the open? He just cannot allow it! Not only for the sake of his dignity, but also to keep up his image so you'll continue seeing him as an almighty demon who has an unnerving amount of political power over any lower rank. As far deep down, hidden within... he wants to appear and be so much more special to you than he'd be willing to admit.

If you were to lack in durability, fighting abilities or overall weapon skills, I can see Redson going out of his way to strictly teach you his ways of strength individually. Not necessarily in a sense to get you to his level, but in order to give you the capability to protect yourself. He would always be there to protect you with ferocious security at a moment's notice [and scold you afterwards for getting yourself in a dangerous situation], but he cannot help but doubt his abilities to ensure your safety at times. Along with fearing for the worst that one time he might not be there to save you. And this singular thought might just be what it takes to make him evaluate how he actually feels about you.

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 20/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011) THIRTEEN (2012) FOURTEEN (2013) FIFTEEN (2014) SIXTEEN (2015) SEVENTEEN (2016) EIGHTEEN (2017) NINETEEN (2018)

FYI - this is a 10k chapter so make yourself comfy. Hydrate. Save reading it for later if you need to. Sleep is important etc etc.

CHAPTER TWENTY – 2019

            Tom is infinitely glad that he’s highly ranked enough to know exactly what Pete is doing and he doesn’t have to worry about him spilling secrets in his excitement when he talks about the testing schedule. Mach 10 is definitely going to be a feat and he’s so glad there is something to keep Mav busy and, more importantly, happy. Tamsin and Petra are both at college and loving it, their excited phone calls a highlight of his week. Bradley seems… content. Tom suspects he’s still prone to bouts of melancholy, but hopes the therapy is helping.

            Life is good.

…         …         …

            “I just worry about him okay?” Pete says to Sarah.

            “He’s a grown ass man Pete, and Melissa has him under her thumb. You need to stop worrying about him so much and trust that he can look after himself.”

            “I know, I know… just the whole stress of the job thing…”

            “And the stress of worrying about you.”

            “Hey! He doesn’t have to worry about me!”

            “But you somehow have to worry about him?”

            Pete hmphs at the sheer logic of the argument, because of all people he thought Sarah would be on his side.

            “Fine. Just… “

            “We’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.”

…         …         …

            “Seresin! Hey! Wait up…”

            He doesn’t miss the way Jake huffs an annoyed breath through his nose, forces himself to not laugh at it, certain Jake will take it the wrong way. And he definitely can’t call him Jake out loud, that’s likely to make Jake take a swing at him.

            “What do you want?”

            “Just wondered if you wanted to get dinner.”

            “With you?”

            Yeah, okay, that’s fair he supposes.

            “You see anyone else?” Bradley asks, holding his arms out.

            “Why should I?”

            “Because we work together, and everyone thinks you hate me.”

            “I do hate you.” Bradley raises an eyebrow in challenge and just like he thought, Jake scowls, hates being caught out on a lie and Bradley feels a little thrill that he still knows Jake well enough. “I still don’t like you very much.”

            “Yeah… that’s… fair. I was kind of an asshole.”

            Jake rears back at his admission and Bradley shrugs, because he’s been working through owning his mistakes, and he knows how he treated Jake was far from ideal. And more time has passed and maybe Jake will let him apologize. He’ll keep trying.

            “Kind of?”

            “Yeah okay. Point made. I was an asshole. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better. Let me buy you dinner?”

            “Why?”

            “To say sorry.”

            “Is that it?”

            “Yeah. That’s it.”

…         …         …

            Jake eyes him suspiciously throughout dinner, but Bradley perseveres; forces himself to make small talk, bringing up funny anecdotes about different deployments, some of the stories a little self-depreciating because he’s sure Jake will like the hubris of it all. He’s seriously not looking for anything, simply wants to make their working lives a little less fraught for everyone, himself and Jake included. The food is good, and it turns out Jake likes cooking, so he asks questions about that, figuring it’s a fairly safe and benign topic of conversation.

            “Well Rooster, we’ve managed it through dinner. Seeing as you’re footing the bill I’m ordering dessert.”

            “I’d expect nothing less,” Bradley says with a wry smile and winces a little inwardly, because that came out flirtier than he intended. He’d been serious that he just wanted dinner, but he’d have to be dead before he doesn’t find Jake attractive. They place orders for dessert and then Jake is leaning back, crossing his arms and studying him.

            “What do you think you have to apologize for?” Jake asks.

            “Are you serious?”

            “Humor me…”

            “Fuck… uh. God. I don’t even… I don’t know where to start.”

            “Corpus. Start there.”

            Fuck. Okay then.

            It’s cathartic and embarrassing in equal measure as he lists what he thinks of as his worst transgressions with regards to Jake. Ignoring him. Using him. Sending mixed messages, not that he thinks he did, but feels like he should apologize anyway. He knows he’s probably added some things that he doesn’t actually need to apologize for, however if he’s only going to get one chance at this, he’s going to make it count. Jake’s expression remains unreadable the entire time, mildly amused and quietly calculating.

            “Yeah. That’s it I think…” Bradley offers, wonders if Jake is going to start listing off further things and he doesn’t know how he’d feel if he did.

            “That’s definitely a list.” Bradley shrugs, takes a sip of water and resists the urge to chew on his thumb nail. “So what happened? Why apologize now? It’s been years.”

            “I grew up?” Bradley offers, not really sure if that’s an explanation. Isn’t going to get into the mess of his therapy sessions, not when he fully expects Jake to throw the fact that he even goes to therapy back in his face the first chance he gets. “I did try and apologize a while ago, but, uh…” he flushes, remembers their last ill-advised hookup which had been his most recent attempt at apologizing. It’s not like they’ve ever exchanged numbers.

            “You seemed to have your shit together fine ten years ago.”

            “I was very good at pretending… scared shitless and looking over my shoulder a lot of the time.” Jake doesn’t say anything, just watches him silently, and he reminds him of Ice in that moment, knows he’s waiting for Bradley to fill the silence. Which he’s not averse to doing. “Uh. I didn’t exactly grow up with the greatest relationship examples… like. They’re together, but they were so careful. They only started wearing their wedding rings last year.”

            For some reason that gets a flicker of interest from him and Bradley wonders what rumors Jake has heard and what, if any, damage control he’s going to have to do.

            “Maverick and Admiral Kazansky.”

            Bradley rears back, eyes wide with shocked surprise, because Jake isn’t asking, he’s stating it like fact. Like he knows.

            “You… how do you know about that?” Bradley demands, voice quiet, although he doubts anyone around them cares.

            “Because Admiral Kazansky told me.”

            “What the fuck… when?”

            Jake blinks at him, seems surprised that he doesn’t know all this already.

            “About four years ago. Offered to put me in touch with Maverick.”

            “What? Why?”

            He watches Jake lean back, tongue running over his teeth, expression back to being politely bland.

            “Thought Maverick and I might have some common ground.”

            Oh.

            Fuck.

            Jake’s air-to-air kill.

            The less than text-book behavior which had resulted in Jake abandoning his wingman. Bradley also knows it’s not as simple as that, because he’d spoken to Slipper a while after and well, abandoning and protecting can look very fucking similar without context. The damage had already been done and Jake had gone from the very innocuous Cowboy callsign to Hangman in the space of a couple of weeks after he’d made some throw-away comment.

            Another thing he should probably apologize for.

            “I’m sorry about that too, I didn’t think it would catch on.”

            Jake’s face scrunches up, shoulder lifts in a half-shrug like he doesn’t care either way, and Bradley knows he does. Pretends he doesn’t, or didn’t. Leaned into the whole thing, let it feed his ego. Apparent ego. He wonders how much of Jake’s attitude to life now is his own doing. Wonders if that’s really self-centered to make it all about him. Something to ask his therapist next month. Like he doesn’t have enough shit to work through already.

…         …         …

            “I really didn’t… I wasn’t… I just…”

            “Shut up Bradshaw. Yeah, I get it. But what if I want to?” Jake asks, grinding himself against the swell of Bradley’s thigh and it’s the worst idea he’s had in a long time, and that’s saying something considering he recently played drinking games with Maverick and Tamsin. He can hear his therapist asking him how he feels and he doesn’t even fucking know anymore.

            Jake seems angry, and Bradley can’t blame him, notes that even despite the anger Jake’s not impatient. He’s not going to try and figure out what it is exactly Jake is angry about, is pretty sure asking is only going to annoy him and likely make him angrier. He can accept that Jake is likely angry with him. Didn’t want or need his apologies, isn’t sure what he’s meant to do with them. Jake’s fingers are firm, hard enough to bruise as they dig into his hips.

            Jake’s groan is low and throaty as he pushes in, Bradley’s skin prickles all everywhere, over sensitive. It’s been a long while since he’s done this and he’s going to be sore and achy tomorrow, but it feels good in all the best ways too. Jake’s grown into himself, broader and taller than ten years ago, no longer inexperienced and unsure. A small part of him mourns the sweetness they’d had, but this… this is good too.

            “Uh uh…. No touching.”

            Then Jake is shifting, moving Bradley’s legs over his shoulders, his wrists pinned under Jake’s palms. His expression isn’t mean exactly, but it definitely isn’t loving and soft either. As Jake rolls his hips, grinding into him, Bradley can barely breathe, folded in half like he is, pushes against it, chases the sensations he wants. Needs.

            “You either come on my cock, or you don’t come at all…”

            “Jesus fuck…” Bradley gasps, his cock kicking between them and he doesn’t think that’s going to be a problem. The pace Jake sets is brutal. Bradley knows he’s going to have bone-deep bruises from Jake’s hips with the force he’s using, from where Jake’s fingers are digging into him, holding him in place, and Bradley doesn’t even care. Jake’s stamina has improved, and he wonders for the briefest of seconds when and how. Who. Then Jake twists his hips, still knows Bradley’s body and he swears again under his breath as Jake decides hammering his prostate is his sole function.

            He comes with a shout that almost feels like a sob he comes so hard. He’s pretty certain he says Jake’s name but has to hope Jake either doesn’t notice or care during the throes of really fucking good sex. Jake keeps fucking him, chasing down his own release and Bradley just has to go along for the ride, a little oversensitive but too caught up on how beautiful Jake looks when he’s not looking hard and jaded. Jake’s fingers grip him even harder as he comes, grunting with pleasure and breath hot warm across the skin of Bradley’s neck. Damn they’ve still got chemistry by the fucking carrier and then some. God he’s missed this. Not sure if it’s Jake, or their shared history or just the fact that they’re so clearly sexually compatible. It’s probably a combination

            He doesn’t know how long he’s going to get this, time when Jake just lets himself rest against Bradley, bodies pressed close and he tries to breath shallowly, tried to commit the smell of them together, to memory. Can feel Jake tracing something on the skin of his upper arm, he’s too sleepy and sated to be able to concentrate, but it’s repetitive. He feels like he’d be able to make sense of it if he were just a little more awake and with it. Then Jake is pulling away,

            “This wasn’t the beginning of anything Bradshaw.”

            Yeah, he supposes that’s fair, but he can’t help but feel disappointed.

...         …         …

            “Admiral…”

            “Yes Aubrey?”

            She’s paused in the doorway, expression serious and he pushes himself back from his desk, stands and takes a step toward her.

            “What is it?”

            “There is a call for you. As next of kin.”

            He swallows, fear lancing through him. He’s listed as next of kin for too many people that he loves and the idea of any of them being hurt, or gone. He sits back down and picks up the phone, pulls his own phone out of his pocket where it’s been sitting on silence.

            Maverick is missing.

            The Darkstar is in pieces.

            So is his heart.

…         …         …

            Communication is choppy and he finds out Maverick is missing, presumed dead. He’s given leave immediately, can feel Ice’s hands all over this and fuck. Ice. Tamsin. Petra. He needs to be with his family. He packs on autopilot, has a transport getting him home as fast as possible and right now he’s so fucking glad for all the strings Ice is pulling, the fingers in pies he might have. Everything is hazy as he travels, time not having much meaning and he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone, feels adrift and alone. He’s not surprised to see Melissa waiting for him when he lands. Sarah will be with Ice and the girls. Melissa’s eyes are red, but she’s not looking… sad. She’s grasping him in a hug, arms tight and he’s forced to drop his duffle to return the hug because she’s crying and he’s crying and then against fucking everything she’s laughing.

            “What?”

            “They’ve found him. He’s alive.”

            “What?” Bradley repeats.

            “Mav is alive. Pete is alive.”

            “Oh thank god…” he gets out, knees weak.

            “Yeah,” Melissa offers through a watery smile. “I think Tom is maybe going to kill him anyway. Sounds like he did something stupid.”

            “Mav? Doing something stupid? Are we surprised by this?” Bradley asks, the shock and relief making him feel a little hysterical as he brushes away the tear tracks on his face.

            Fucking Maverick.

…         …         …

            He knows concussions aren’t avoidable simply out or practice or experience, but he’s still surprised he walks away with no broken bones or a concussion. He hopes the data is good, because if all the safety precautions they build in can mean more people walk away from experiences like that then he’ll continue testing them. The idea that what he’s doing might save lives, might save Bradley’s life or other like him, in the future.

            Sure the flying is great, and going fast, so fast, god, but it’s the data that is collected and the people he works with and they’re all working toward a collective goal of making planes better. Not just faster and more dangerous. But safer and more durable, able to protect the life inside. Fuck Cain and his unmanned program. Pete knows it will become an eventuality, but there’s still a significant chunk of time before the technology can actually be considered equivalent to a properly trained Naval Aviator. There’s no question in his mind about it and he’d fight for it. Has fought for it.

            Almost died for it.

            He hadn’t really thought that through, and he knows Ice is pissed.

            Worse.

            Disappointed.

            That Pete doesn’t take care of his own life and that he somehow treats himself as disposable or easily replaced.

            He’d much rather Ice yelled at him. It would probably make them both feel better. Instead Ice’s eyes follow him silently, his hands gentle as he runs careful finger over the bruises and grazes he sustained when he landed. Crashed. Same thing.

            “I need to talk to you…”

            “Okay?”

            “About work.”

            That pulls him up short, because their areas of work hardly overlap now, and Ice doesn’t seem at all happy about the fact that he needs to talk to him.

            Fuck.

            He’s losing his wings.

            He’s finally pushed the envelope too far and they’re discharging him and stripping his wings and he’s never going to fly again. He sucks in a breath and prepares for the news like he would for a physical hit, knows it’ll hurt.

            “Your… there’s a mission.”

            Pete blinks. Frowns.

            “What?”

            “Fuck…” Tom says under his breath and Pete’s blood runs cold. Ice doesn’t swear as a matter of course, saves it for circumstances which really warrant it. Like when he had cancer. Probably when he thought Pete was dead… and now.

            “I didn’t… I… It was a conversation. But then. It… they’re still gathering intelligence. But things will move very quickly if things are confirmed.”

            “You’re talking in riddles Ice…”

            “It’s all highly classified. It might be nothing. I just. I made a comment that you had experience in every aspect of the potential mission and then they all looked at me like I was… well. I’m not sure if they thought I was a genius or had cursed them all.”

            “You… you think they’d need me?”

            “I think… maybe?”

            “Okay. Well. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it hmm?”

…         …         …

            Bradley pulls the Bronco into the edge of the lot and looks around, it’s a bit busier than he’d been expecting and he pockets his phone. Penny had called him and he’d pretty much dropped everything, because he is definitely the lesser of evils when it comes to picking the girls up from the Hard Deck. Not that it’s something he’s every done before, because Petra wasn’t old enough to drink before now. He walks in and heads directly to the bar. Can see Tamsin and Petra sitting, leaning against each other and giggling and he doesn’t even want to ask. Petra finally being twenty-one is a scary and terrifying thought.

            God he feels ancient. He remembers when she was born.

            “Thanks for calling me Penny.”

            “Anytime Bradley, us Admiral daughters have to stick together.”

            Bradley looks over and Petra is throwing back a shot and he turns back to Penny, raises an eyebrow.

            “I switched them to the alcohol-free stuff that still tastes like shit about the time I called you. Just… there are some… sharks circling.”

            Bradley snorts then, because he’s like to see them fucking try. Even ten sheets to the wind he suspects Petra and Tamsin could both hold their own, their martial arts classes being one of the few things Melissa and Sarah had insisted they both keep up through their teen years and he knows they both still train. He wouldn’t want to take them on in hand-to-hand combat sober or drunk. In fact, drunk would be probably worse because they wouldn’t pull their punches and he’d likely end up in hospital or a eunuch or both.  

            “There’s my pretty flyboy!” Tamsin calls out, having seen him, and several people look his way.

            “Jesus…” Bradley mutters under his breath. He does notice a few people step back from where they were clearly moving closer to Tamsin and Petra, and he narrows his eyes at them, pushes his shoulders back. Is glad Penny runs the Hard Deck and that they came here. He takes the bottles of water Penny hands him with amusement, because yeah, that’s going to be a fun trying to convince them to drink water.

            “Ladies…”

            “Double B! BB!”

            “Yeah, hi. Here. Have some water…”

            “I don’t want water. I’m not drunk.”

            “Your kidney will thank you. Drink the fucking water.”

            “Ugh. Kill joy Bradley.”

            “Tamsin, come on…”

            “Bradley! I love you!” Petra says, her arms going around his neck, and he shakes his head, because she is definitely needing the water. He exchanges a look with Tamsin and she at least seems to agree, so at least she’s not that drunk.

            “Come on Pet… let me get you home.”

            “You can’t take me home…” she says with a horrified voice and Bradley snorts.

            “Yeah, no shit. You can sleep this off at my place.”

            “You’re the best, you know that? I really do love you, you know? Why aren’t you telling me you love me?”

            “I love you too. You know you’re the troublemaker though right?”

            “No. I had a very strict upbringing you know.”

            “Bullshit.”

            “Timtam? I love you too you know?”

            “Yeah Rara… I know. You’re going to feel horrible tomorrow.”

            “Ice is going to be pissed.”

            “I don’t care what he says!” Petra declares.

            “Your mom is going to be spitting tacks…” Bradley amends, because out of all their parents, Sarah and Melissa are by far the ones he thinks are the most responsible. Maverick would fucking be here buying them more drinks, which has always meant that Ice’s attention has been split to watching Maverick as well as them. He’s been lucky that Bradley was a pretty easy-going teenager really.

            “Oh shit…”

            “Yeah. I’m glad I’m not you.”

…         …         …

            The beach is fairly deserted, someone with a dog off in the distance and they walk side by side. Mav is stiff as he walks and he knows it’s due to the exploding plane Mav was in. Not that many people know it was him, but Bradley could piece things together even if he hadn’t been called home. And then very promptly given a new set of orders and he knows Maverick has also been called in, and it’s been years since they’ve flown together but he doesn’t know if Ice can cope with them both going off. Likely why they’ve made Mav the instructor, although considering he’s still recovering the idea of him flying an actual mission… ludicrous on so many levels he doesn’t know where to start.

            He needs to get this out though. It’s been festering away inside, watching Ice popping gum and antacids because he’s got a stomach ulcer that Bradley isn’t meant to know about but which Melissa had told him about because Bradley has medical power of attorney for both Ice and Mav now. He hates it, but also knows it’s necessary.

            “You’re going to kill him,” Bradley states quietly, because Ice’s health isn’t the best and he knows that Maverick acting like he’s expendable is stressing Ice out unnecessarily. Fuck. He doesn’t even know if Ice has shared his current health concerns with Mav, because he’s got a martyr complex a mile wide and wouldn’t want to worry Mav. Insanity. Especially considering how much worry Mav has caused them all in the last few days.

            “Do not put that on me,” Mav snaps, and Bradley jerks, surprised at the level of vehemence in Maverick’s voice. He’s not ever been the recipient of Maverick’s anger before. Not anger like this. “He and I both know the risks. Have always known the risks. You should know that.”

            “Yeah, and now you’ve made it this far you don’t think you could maybe… I don’t know? Retire?”

            The look on Maverick’s face tells him everything he needs to know, that asking him to retire would be like asking him to stop breathing and he supposes that’s fair. Wonders if Ice knows and the realizes that of course he does, it’s why Maverick is still flying.

            Fuck.

            He drives off and leaves Maverick at the Hard Deck, knows that’s probably going to piss Maverick off even further but he just can’t deal with it all right now. He doesn’t want to have to face the reality that he’s going to have to say goodbye to Maverick one-day as well Ice and it sucks. Feels so unfair after he’s already lost both his parents to make him endure it over and over again.

            His argument with Maverick leaves his anger bubbling away and he needs to go spend some time to calm down. He ends up seeking Ice out, wants another person to talk to, one that loves Maverick so will understand but also commiserate with. He’s not surprised when Ice is waiting with a finger of whiskey already in a glass, sitting in his study, and looking at something on his phone. He slumps down in the chair opposite and reaches for the glass.

            “I could have poured that for Mav…”

            “He hates whiskey. I however…”

            “Mmm. Yes. He’s gone to spend the night at the hangar.”

            “Oh… for fucks sake. He didn’t need to do that. He’s being an idiot.”

            “He’s always been a bit of an idiot. And he knows your temper and his are… volatile. He told me what you said.”

            “With some embellishment no doubt.”

            “No doubt. However, he is very good at what he does.”

            “So are heaps of other people. Ice, you can’t want him taking part in this mission…”

            “What I want has taken a back seat for a long time.”

            “Then don’t you think it’s time it took priority?”

            Ice looks a little sad, reaches down to pat Harley’s ears and Bradley wonders if they should have gotten some pets long ago for the comfort he sees them bring Ice.

            “The Navy has dictated so much of our lives, it’s very hard to break that habit…”

            “But it might end up killing him. He doesn’t need to fly.”

            “Stopping flying will definitely kill him. More so if it isn’t his choice. And I will not make that choice for him.”

            “Fuuuck,” Bradley exclaims, frustrated beyond belief but he also can’t be telling either of them how to live their lives. It’s not his life and he’d hate for them to try and tell him how to live his life just as much.

            “Yes, that is quite apt…”

            “How can you just be… so calm about it all?”

            “Years of experience. Also, I have had time to process the idea that I will likely lose Maverick when he is in the air. Every time he comes back to me; I count my blessings and consider myself a lucky man.”

            Bradley blows out a breath, because Ice has loved Mav for as long as Bradley remembers, long before he was even aware of them being together. They’ve always been so careful and now they don’t need to be, but they’re still not willing to put each other first. And he can’t even blame them. Doesn’t know what he’d do in their situation. Hopes he never has to find out.

…         …         …

            When he’s thrown out of the Hard Deck Bradley still isn’t really talking to him properly, but he sees his eyes follow him, and Penny’s look and he just waves away her concern. He’ll be fine. He does give into nostalgia and stop to watch and listen.

            God Bradley reminds him so much of Goose when he plays.

            He hopes wherever Goose and Carole are that they think he and Ice have done an okay job in loving their kid.

…         …         …

            Bradley sits and listens to the mission brief with a sinking stomach.

            Holy shit.

            No wonder Ice said that they needed Maverick.

            When Natasha asks if it’s even possible he feels like he already knows the answer.

            It is.

            For Maverick.

…         …         …

            He’s not sure how it turns from an apology into another argument, however he probably shouldn’t have even hinted that if the decision was his he’d be grounding Bradley.

            That was probably a dumb move.

            And a lie to boot.

            He might wish he could.

            Would.

            But he wouldn’t ever do that.

            However much he might want to.

…         …         …

            He knows his anger is baseless, that it’s really fear, but he ends up yelling at Maverick and he’s not proud of the fact. It doesn’t help that Jake is here as well, jockeying for position as team lead and Bradley feels sick at the idea of him going and not coming back.

            Fuck.

            Only a few nights ago he’d hoped he’d never have to think about this kind of situation and yet here he is. Maverick. Natasha. Jake. And Jake doesn’t even like him, he’d be fucked if they were actually anything more. He understands even less how Ice can do it, supposes his service and dedication to the Navy is more than Bradley would ever willingly want to sacrifice. He feels like Death is walking beside him, waiting for someone to take away from him again and he doesn’t know who it’s going to be and he’s terrified, doesn’t want to let go of any of them.

            He wants to just lie on the tarmac and have a plane run him over. It would be easier than dealing with everything in his life right now.

            “You’re being a dick. Like. A massive asshole. More so than usual. Why?”

            He sits back up and braces his arms across his knees and looks at Natasha, wonders if admitting he’s scared shitless would make her stop and pause. Instead he scrubs at his face and stares out into the distance. If anyone is going to understand it’s going to be Natasha; he just doesn’t know quite where to start. And if he mentions being worried about her she’s likely to gut him.

            “Uh, well… Mav was in an accident.”

            “Like… a car accident?”

            “No. It’s classified. Let’s just say I got a call that he was missing and was why I got stateside so fast. I was already here.”

            “Oh.”

            “Yeah. We’re kind of… fighting right now.”

            “About what?”

            “Ice.”

            “That doesn’t help…”

            “I think he should retire. Mav that is. I think he’s causing Ice too much stress…”

            “Um.”

            “I know, it’s just…”

            “You cannot tell Maverick what to do. That’s like… trying to stop the moon.”

            “I think Ice would say it was like the sun rising or something equally romantic. But… yeah. He’s angry at me. I’m angry at him. We’ll be fine. It’s just…” he sighs “it’s a lot to be dealing with. Even if he wasn’t standing in the front of the class showing us all our flaws in high definition.”

            “Yeah. That bit kind of sucks. So you’re kind of pissed off with Maverick. But what has Hangman done to get your panties in a bunch? The way you two talked to each other last night? Holy shit. Way to make things fucking awkward for everyone else.”

            He groans again, because his hurt and anger at Maverick had been directed toward the wrong person, and Jake hadn’t known that, although he’d been pretty quick to snap at him and Bradley had just… snapped back. Fuck.

            “I know. I can’t seem to help it when he’s around…”

            “He? He who? I don’t know if you noticed but there’s a lack of women. You’re going to need to be more precise.”

            “Jake.”

            “Jake? Since when do you… You… oh my god. You and Hangman have fucked.”

            “Yep.”

            “When?”

            “Uh,” Bradley freezes. Wonders if he should mention the time a few months ago and decides against it. “Few years ago… and a few years before that too.”

            “Wait. You’ve slept together more than once?”

            Bradley winces, not sure how to answer that, because days spent in bed… he has no idea how to quantify the number of times him and Jake have actually slept together, their lives intersecting and blowing up each time.

            “Yeah.”

            Natasha is looking like she’s putting some things together.

            “Oh shit… can you remember the, uh, first time?”

            “Yeah. Why?”

            “Just. Um. Curious.”

            “What? What do you know?”

            “Nothing apparently. Certainly not from you. You really need to control your temper.”

            “I will.”

            She gives him a look and he sighs.

            “I’ll try.”

…         …         …

            “I can’t be the only one here who knows that Maverick was the one flying when Rooster’s old man…”

            Bradley doesn’t need to think, is up and ready to defend Maverick without stopping to think about it, and of course Mav is there trying to break them up and fuck if it isn’t just a huge mess.

            So much for controlling his temper.

…         …         …

            “I thought you and Hangman… got on okay?”

            “Is that what we’re calling it now?” Bradley asks, gingerly touching his nose because Jake didn’t actually swing at him but he’s pretty sure he caught someone’s elbow to his face unintentionally.

            “Well, I don’t want to… make assumptions about your relationship.”

            “There isn’t any relationship Mav…”

            “Really? Sure looks like there’s something going on.”

            “Nope. We’ve got a history, but not a relationship to speak of.”

            “Huh. Okay then. I stand corrected.”

            “Pretty sure Jake hates me.”

            “Jake huh?”

            “Fuck off Mav…”

…         …         …

            Ice is in hospital with stomach ulcers, having passed out, and here he is watching Maverick fly the course with fifteen fucking seconds to spare.

            He’s not an idiot. He knows what it means.

            Isn’t surprised at all when Maverick is named team leader.

            Now he either has to worry about himself, or Jake.

            He’d much rather have Jake safe, and maybe this is how Mav feels, knowing Ice is safely at home and that gives him the bravery to do the really stupid shit he does.

…         …         …

            He kisses Pete goodbye, softly and sweet, doesn’t need to voice anything because they’ve always known what the other was thinking.

            Come home safe.

            Come back to me safely.

            I love you.

            All these sentiments silently exchanged with the not-actually-accidental brush of fingers, looks exchanged and held moments longer than strictly necessary, hugs on carriers when their lives have once again been given back to them to live.

            He hopes, prays and wishes that their life together is not over yet.

            Whatever it takes.

…         …         …

            Pete feels every press in every joint of his body and he knows this might be the last time he flies. The Darkstar followed by the intense training and then showing them that the course could be flown within the parameters he had set. All of that and to now be team lead, to be responsible for so many lives, but also Bradley. It’s the first time that he’s actually felt too old for all this. If he survives this he’s pretty sure Ice will kill him when he admits that Bradley may have had a point.

            That worry is quickly shelved as the SAMs kick into action and it’s a flurry of activity and he knows he’s breathing but he also feels like he’s holding his breath, snapping out information and orders, and then he hears Rooster, Bradley, Gosling say he’s out of flares and he doesn’t even think. Is providing the needed cover with flares of his own, knowing he won’t be making it out, but if Bradley does then it’ll be worth it. Sends a silent apology to Tamsin and Petra, but they have each other, their moms. Ice will persevere.

            His landing is rough. Not as bad as it could be though, and he’s pretty sure his bruises are going to have bruises but again he feels remarkably spry and figures he can probably thank the adrenaline. The sound of chopper blades have him moving fast, seeking cover and then he hears the F-18, head snaps around and sees the single body.

            Mother fucker.

            He knows it’s definitely Bradley, starts off at a run, lungs burning. He saw a chute, which means there’s a chance others saw it and it means they need to get moving. As he gets closer he’s not certain whether the relief or anger is going to spill out of him first. He can see Bradley standing, packing down his chute and the relief is immediate, that he is alive and well enough to be carrying out basic tasks. It’s quickly replaced as his anger swells within him. All his bullshit about how Ice would miss him if he died and now he’s gone and done this? Not just him shot down but both of them?

            “How dare you! You’re meant to be back on the carrier!”

            “You think I could live with myself if I didn’t come back for you? Are you insane?”

            “Fuck. Ice is going to kill us. Both of us.”

            “Only if we make it back alive…” Bradley mutters and Pete shakes his head, because the dark humor isn’t a great help right now. “Do you have a plan?”

            Pete chews on his lips, because he had been thinking, but Bradley being here now changes that, so he recalibrates his plan for two. They need transport, and if he can’t find that then they need resources. And the best place to start is the place currently in chaos, reeling from the missile launch. So in they go.

…         …         …

            “If I make it home I’m retiring.”

            “When we make it home. Come on. You absolutely batshit crazy mother fucker…”

            Pete grins, slaps Bradley on the back.

            “That’s the spirit.”

…         …         …

            It’s a definite party atmosphere on the deck of the carrier, Maverick is clinging to him, hugging him, because they’re both alive and he’s going to forever count those as miracles four and five. He feels woozy but can’t stop grinning, the sheer relief that he’s alive is immense and he’s killed people today, and he’ll think about that later. Or maybe right now, because he feels like he needs to throw up, the pitch of the carrier normally imperceptible feeling like he’s in an inflatable dinghy.

            “Don’t you fucking dare die on me Bradshaw, I didn’t just save your life for you to die on the deck of the fucking carrier…”

            His vision blurring at the edges and then he’s no longer on his feet, being carried and he blinks slowly, because… is Jake carrying him? Jake is so strong. Mmm. He likes Jake’s arms. He likes a lot of Jake’s body.

            “Oh man I wish I was filming this right now…”

            “Fuck off. We need to get him to sick bay.”

            There’s more talking, some shouts of alarm but he can’t make them out. He’s so fucking tired and he falls asleep.

…         …         …

            Pete doesn’t have a lot of sway or control, but he does convince the Corpsman to let Seresin to sit by Bradley’s side for a little bit, and not only because Bradley has a death drip on his hand.

            No relationship.

            Right.

            They totally look like two people who hate each other.

            Then Cyclone arrives and kick Seresin out and Pete decides getting some rest is probably a good idea.

…         …         …

            “Sir.”

            “Lieutenant. Come in…”

            “Thank you. I just wanted to know if Bradshaw was… well.”

            “He has a fairly severe concussion, some bruising and a sprained ankle. He’ll be fine after some much earned rest.” Pete watches as Hangman visibly relaxes, tension leaving him like a switch has been flipped and it makes him wonder. He half-heard what Bradley was saying before he passed out cold, in Hangman’s arms no less. Saw him sit there beside Bradley in silence and he guesses Seresin knew that was something Pete had maybe arranged.

            “He was saying some… rather interesting things on the carrier.”

            “Was he sir?”

            “Mmm. I didn’t realize you knew Bradshaw that well.”

            Seresin decides not to say anything to that and Pete decides there wasn’t really a question. He knows that the other Daggers have been using a new callsign for him, and he heard Bradley say it a couple of times, although Pete doubts he’d have said it normally.

            “Was there anything else Lieutenant?”

            “No sir. Thank you.”

…         …         …

            “Do you know about Seresin and Bradley?” Pete asks and Tom pauses with the milk pouring.

            “What about them?” he replies, and he’s been swinging between over-the-top care and then his anger and annoyance will resurface. Then he’ll see Pete wince in pain and he’s back to over-the-top consideration but annoyed by it all at the same time. He loves him to distraction but he damned glad that Pete has agreed to actually retire. He’d

            “So there is a them…”

            “There… hmm. There is a history between them. Bradley mentioned something in passing and I did a bit of digging.”

            Pete raises his eyebrows and folds his arms, because he’s well aware of Tom’s little notebooks and digging and blackmail that he has. Information gathering he calls it. He also knows Tom has a weekly meeting with Aubrey to gossip, sorry, discuss, any issues that might need to be managed. He’s fairly certain if she wanted to, Aubrey could rule the Navy in her spare time. She actually might.

            “I’m fairly certain that their history dates back to 2009.”

            “What?” Tom doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t have proof that doesn’t damn Bradley as much as it damns Seresin. Not that it damns either of them now. Back then though it would have been career ending. “They’ve been together that long?”

            “They’ve never been together Pete.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “They… they’ve never had a relationship that I can tell. Not with each other.”

            “Oh. But…”

            “What?”

            “Pretty sure they have feelings for each other. Fuck. They were at each other’s throats during training, but Seresin’s face when I picked Bradley… he looked sick. Oh god. I thought we had a long path to getting our shit sorted out… but ten years?”

            “You’re assuming they’re going to end up together.”

            “You didn’t see the way they looked at each other on the carrier. Only had eyes for each other. Before Bradley passed out anyway.”

…         …         …

            He’s kept under observation for longer than he personally thinks necessary, but when everyone is terrified of Admiral Kazansky there’s no getting away with anything. And he supposes he should actually follow the doctor’s orders and take it easy. It’s only forty-eight hours. The daggers come and visit, allowed in two or threes and it’s nice. Natasha brings him audio books to listen to, the others bring puzzles of basic kids boardgames and they end up playing Sorry for over an hour.

            Jake comes with Javy and Natasha the second time she visits in the same day, and Bradley remembers Jake shooting down the fifth generation fighter and saving him and Mav, however after that his memory is hazy at best, has vague recollections of an engine going out which had made Ice go green when he’d mentioned it, so he figures that part is correct at least. Jake brings him popcorn and peanut MnMs, although he eats the candy himself and Bradley feels confused. Not sure if he should be reading into it or whether it’s just a coincidence.

            What he learns from all the visits is that Jake has a new nickname. He doesn’t know if it’ll end up being a callsign, but Bradley doesn’t get it. Jake also seems even angrier about this one than he was about the time he ended up with Hangman, and Bradley apologized for that.

            Mostly.

            Sort of.

            But this one seems… okay. It seems far too soft and nice considering Jake’s entire attitude towards nearly everything, but as callsigns go it’s not bad. If he had to make a guess it would be around Jake being his and Mav’s guardian angel or something. Surely it’s better than Hangman? Maybe he liked Hangman and the notoriety attached to it? Fucked if Bradley knows, and no one will tell him. But now whenever someone says it, he does a double take.

            Angel.

            And they’re talking about Jake. To Jake.

            He feels like he’s missing something.

…         …         …

            Pete checks on Bradley daily, and Ice, then Tamsin and Petra, both back at University now. They haven’t told them quite how close both he and Bradley came to not coming back from the last mission. Not only is it classified, but he hates the idea of them worrying. It’s when he catches that thought that he realizes that Ice would have felt the same worry, Bradley as well and god fucking damn it. Of course they all would. Despite everything they love him.

            He’s an idiot sometimes but he gets where Bradley was coming from now and yeah. He’s not as young as he once was. His reflexes are still good, but his body is definitely still feeling the repercussions of everything he’s put it through over the last two months. He wants to be able to still walk in ten or twenty years time. Wants to be alive to maybe see grandkids, if any of his kids decide to have kids. That will give him enough excitement to keep him alive, and until then there’s the Mustang.

…         …         …

            He isn’t drinking, is still getting headaches and is tired so often that no one makes a comment about him bowing out early. He’s finally been given the all-clear to drive and tonight is his first taste of freedom in nearly two weeks. Spending time with the other Daggers had been really good. He steps outside and takes in a deep breath, it’s cooler and he can hear the crashing od the waves.

            It’s nice.

            Quiet.

            As he walks toward the Bronco he can see someone looking at it, and he’s gotten used to that now, because it’s a thing of beauty and people have stopped to admire it, because it’s a classic. As he gets closer though he sees that it’s Jake and he can’t help the little stutter his heart does, takes a deep quiet breath and prepares himself for the interaction. Has no idea what way it might go. Jake has been quiet around him, others always there acting as buffers.

            “Admiring my ride Hangman?”

            Jake turns toward him then, hand getting shoved into his pockets as he turns toward Bradley, eyebrows going up.

            “This is yours? What happened to your Audi?”

            Bradley is surprised Jake even remembers what kind of car he was driving when they first met, then again, he had given him shit about it, and the memory floats in his brain hazy before snapping into place…

.

.

.

“Why an Audi?”

“It’s the safest apparently. My dad is a little overprotective. Tries to be anyway. It was a graduation gift. Wasn’t going to turn away a free car.”

“Hell of a gift. It ain’t no Bronco though is it…”

“No. I don’t need to drive a Bronco…”

.

.

.

            Oh fuck.

            He might be a bit of an idiot.

            “I… uh. Sold it. Few years ago now… Once this thing was safe enough to drive.”

            “You didn’t buy it like this?” Jake asks, eyes flicking between him and the car and Bradley feels like he’s ripped himself open with his self-realization that this fucking Bronco is almost a solid representation of his emotional state over the last decade.

            “No. No it was… It was a mess. One of my dad’s friends, he asked me if I’d pulled it from the ocean it had that much rust.”

            “You bought a Bronco to do up?” Jake asks, and he’s leaning against said Bronco, arms crossed, looking at Bradley with narrowed eyes. Fuck.

            “Yep.”

            “When did you buy it?”

            Fuck.

            Of all the questions Jake could have asked him…

            “I, uh, really don’t remember exactly. It’s been a real labor of…” he trails off, able to stop the word before it trips out of his mouth. “Took fucking years because I could only work on it when I was on leave.”

            “What year Bradshaw? You’ve probably got the papers in the glove box if you need to jog your memory.”

            Jake is of course right, and he also wouldn’t put it past him to break the window and find out. He’s angry about something and Bradley isn’t quite sure how much of it is aimed at him or is even his fault. He blows out a breath and rolls his shoulders back.

            “2010.”

            “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Jake mutters under his breath and yeah, he only just made the connection himself, it’s not like he was doing anything on purpose. He hadn’t even remembered the conversation until just now. “You are fucking infuriating, you know that?”

            “Uh. Yes?” Bradley guesses, wonders what Jake is getting at. Because he’s sort of annoyed at himself right now, so he can appreciate Jake being annoyed as well.

            “Sending so many mixed fucking messages.”

            “Uh… am I?” Bradley asks, and he’s serious, because he has no idea what messages he’s been sending, if anything Jake’s been confusing him, with his movie treats and new nickname and the way he’s just been looking at him…

            “You bought a fucking Bronco Bradshaw. Spent years doing it up. Never shaved this off…” he reaches out, a thumb stroking over one-half of his moustache, fingers gripping his neck and Bradley hadn’t realized they were standing so close. And he had kept the moustache and another memory floats, snaps into focus before slotting itself away.

.

.

.

“I need a haircut before I report back.”

“You mean I won’t be seeing these beautiful curls again?”

“Nope. And I’ll shave.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Well, you wear that moustache very well.”

“Yeah, you like it huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I grew it on a dare, wasn’t planning on keeping it past my leave.”

“Well, as I said, it suits you. Not many men can wear a moustache and have it make them sexier, but you’re definitely one of them.”

.

.

.

            Oh.

            Jake’s hand drops from his neck and he misses the warmth. The pressure. He swallows roughly, throat suddenly tight because he really hadn’t intentionally sent any messages, but he can understand now how it might look. And then the continuous circling back and hooking up they’ve done over the last decade. Fuck he’s a mess. He thought he was getting better at shit like this. Wanted so much to get better.

            “And then I see you in the Hard Deck leaving with two young women about two months ago, so… Would have thought they were a little young for you… and the wrong gender. But I guess we don’t know each other that well…”

            Bradley is already shaking his head, because he’s not slept with anyone since Jake earlier this year, frowns, knows his confusion is probably showing on his face because Jake is rolling his eyes.

            “The admiral’s daughter? Daughters? Really Rooster, forgotten them already?”

            Oh. Oh shit. Wait. His mind is racing, because he’s talking about Tamsin and Petra, but he also sounds jealous and Bradley can work with that. Probably. Carefully.

            “No. No you have the wrong idea there… Fuck. You’re right. We don’t know each other that well. Because those were my sisters. Tamsin and Petra.”

            “Last time I checked you father wasn’t an admiral. Maverick might be a legend but he’s still only a captain. Lying doesn’t suit you Bradshaw.”

            “I’m not lying. Come home with me right now.”

            “So what, I can fuck the truth out of you?”

            “No, not my place. Where my parents live… You know about Iceman. He’s the admiral. Their dad.”

            That makes Jake pause, his expression stoney, still angry, but Bradley is hoping it’s because he’s hurt and jealous… he needs to show him he has no need to be jealous. That Bradley has been his all along, unknowingly Jake’s even to Bradley.

            “Please,” Bradley adds.

            “Fine. Once chance.”

            “That’s all I need. Thank you.”

            “Don’t thank me.”

            He unlocks the Bronco, doesn’t miss the way Jake’s eyes travel over the interior as he slides into the passenger seat. He’s not going to pause to message Ice or Mav that he’s coming around, figures some good honest surprise is the flavor and theme of the evening. As he drives he keeps glancing over at Jake, finds him staring back each time, face impassive like he’s definitely second guessing his decision to get into the truck with Bradley, but Bradley’s glad he agreed. He pulls into the driveway and parks the car, jerks his head toward the house. Resists the urge to go around and open Jake’s door for him. It’s not late, but the lights are on outside and curtains are drawn. He doesn’t bother knocking;

            “Pops! It’s just me…” Bradley calls out. “Uh. You want a coffee or…”

            “Coffee is fine. Black. Thanks.”

            “Cool. Just… uh. Take a seat in here. Or look around. Knock yourself out. Be nosy. I’ll be right back…”

            He doesn’t give him time to say anything, just leaves him to the room filled with his history and life and hopes Jake can piece it all together.

…         …         …

            Tom frowns and pushes himself back from his desk. He’s not meant to be working, but he refuses to sit idle, especially given the backlog created by his most recent visit to hospital. He heard Bradley come in, but usually he pops his head in, starts a conversation. It’s out of the ordinary so he goes looking, heads directly for the kitchen, because even as a fully grown adult Bradley is driven by his stomach.

            Sure enough he looks into the kitchen and Bradley is there, however he is slowly, but repeatedly, knocking his head against the refrigerator. Huh. Then he hears a quiet what the actual fuck from the living room and he takes steps toward it, wonders who Bradley has brought home with him and why he hasn’t stopped to introduce them.

            Oh.

            Because he knows Jake Seresin and doesn’t need to be introduced and the fact that he’s here means that Bradley is… oh.

            Right.

            The head banging makes a little more sense now.

            He can give Bradley a little time.

            “Lieutenant Seresin.”

            It’s incredibly amusing to see the younger man jump about a foot in the air, his expression of anger quickly dissipating when he realizes who exactly has spoken. He keeps his face impassive, but he’ll definitely be sharing the moment with Mav later and laughing about it.

            “Admiral Kazansky sir. Hello.”

            “Hmm. I’m assuming you’re here with Bradley?”

            “Yes sir. He’s, uh, he said he was going to make coffee.”

            “Good. Let me know if you need something stronger. And welcome to my home.”

            “Thank you Sir?”

            “Do you have any questions about any of the photos Lieutenant?”

            “Ah… your daughters sir?”

            “Yes. My daughters. Tamsin and Petra. Bradley was around thirteen when Tamsin was born.”

            “Right. He’s, Bradley that is, he’s in a lot of these photos too.”

            “Of course he is. He’s my son. Whenever Maverick was deployed, Bradley came and lived with me and my wife. I was his other legal guardian. He is very much a part of my family.”

            “Your… wife,” Seresin says, and Tom knows exactly what picture he’s looking at. A picture of him and Sarah on their wedding day. A photo he only keeps because not only does she look beautiful, but she is the mother of his children and continues to be one of his closest friends.

            “Have you ever heard of a lavender marriage Lieutenant?”

            “No sir.”

            “A marriage of convenience between a gay man and a woman who knows he’s gay. Sarah and I were close friends and I would say we are closer friends now. Bradley’s mother introduced us actually. She married Maverick for similar reasons.”

            “Oh…”

            “Bradley has, by necessity and then choice, been very secretive about his home life. Some habits are hard to break. He kept his relationship with Maverick a secret the entire time he was at boat school, when he started flight school, only a handful of people knew he was the adopted son of Maverick Mitchell.”

            “Why? Why didn’t he just tell people?”

            “Because he didn’t want to have people think he got in through nepotism. Wanted to be judged on his own merits. And I could understand that, so I assisted and supported him. He of course was doing me a very big favor as well. Us. He has kept my relationship with Maverick a secret since he realized it was a secret he needed to keep when he was only a teenager. Of course, having us as role models for what a relationship between two men in the Navy looks like hasn’t been…normal.”

            “Yeah. No shit.”

            Tom raises an eyebrow and Seresin immediately flushes, mumbles out an apology for the language and Tom smirks inwardly. He’s still got it.

            “Uh. Hey Ice. You know… Hangman.”

            “Yes. I do know Lieutenant Seresin.”

            “I, uh, made coffee…” Tom frowns, because Bradley isn’t meant to be having coffee after midday. “I made myself some of that tea you drink.”

            “Ah,” Tom says, nods, because he doesn’t particularly like the tea, but he also finds it’s one of the few things that ease his stomach some nights.

            “You didn’t offer me tea…” Seresin interjects and Tom watches with interest, because Pete had mentioned seeing them together and this is the first time he’s ever seen them together in a non-work setting.

            “It tastes like… dirt,” Bradley says, and Tom would swear he was going to say something else before catching himself.

            “Maybe I like the taste of dirt. I should have at least been offered the choice…”

            Tom can’t help the way his eyebrows go up, and he looks between Bradley and then toward Seresin. They’re clearly having a whole other conversation and it isn’t about hot drinks.

            “I think I’ll go and make myself a cup of tea. Leave you two to… talk,” he states, and he leaves quickly, nodding to them both and saving the shake of his head for when he’s certain they can’t see him. He’s glad him and Maverick have their shit sorted out.

…         …         …

            He’s left standing there holding two hot drinks and he looks down at them, looks up at Jake. He’s studying him, doesn’t look quite so angry, but he’s not smiling. Bradley has no idea what else Ice may have said to him, only heard the tail end of the conversation, something about him not having normal role models or some bullshit. He doesn’t care, what even is normal anyway.

            “Do you want coffee or tea?” he asks, gesturing carefully with his full hands and Jake doesn’t move to take either of them so he passes by to place them both on the coffee table, placing them as close to the center as possible to protect it from Harley’s wagging tail, if he decides to move from his basket that is.

            “What I want Bradshaw is to know what you want from me.”

            “Uh… um. Nothing? You don’t have to give me anything,” Bradley says, and Jake’s eyes flash in annoyance and Bradley reminds himself to not react immediately.

            “I know I don’t Bradshaw. I don’t have to do anything. If I want to though?”

            Bradley is thrown back again and he remembers the last time they had sex, it wasn’t that long ago in the longer timeline of them knowing each other.

            “You said you didn’t want to start anything.”

            “No Bradshaw, I said it wasn’t the beginning of anything. And it wasn’t. Then. Now though? Maybe? If we both… want it.”

            “Jake…” Bradley starts, and his voice breaks, and he takes a single step toward him, hand reaching and the falling to his side.

            “You really fucked me up…”

            “I… I didn’t mean to.”

            “Yeah. I’m starting to realize that. Maybe we can be fucked up together…”

            “You’re not… you’re not fucked up.”

            “You don’t know me Bradshaw.”

            “I’d like to though.”

            “Yeah. I’d like that too.”

[eveningspirit]

Frank Langdon and Back Pain, Part Three [screencaps from episode 1x06]

Part One

Part Two

I'm quite surprised how many caps I made from this episode. Maybe I went a little overboard? Well, even if I did, so what, right? Let's all look at his pretty mug and guess what hides underneath.

Let's start with another example of Frank leaning against things, as he watches the betting pool. And then talks to Dana.

Then, we see him leaning again, although it's not clear from the camera angle. However, before the episode aired, we got that one promo picture, where it is evident.

And also, what it with that face?

The lip biting. We see him do that every now and again (the first screencap anyone?), we also see him do that "blow out" thing. And of course that adorable tongue thing when he's focused. But the biting and the blowing are grimaces people sometimes make to stave off something uncomfortable, like pain or... well... maybe some withdrawal symptoms could fit into that category? Maybe.

The body movements. I vaguely mentioned that slightly hunched pose in one of my previous entries, and here it is again. He looks tense, doesn't move with as much ease as others around him. I'm not sure anymore, whether it's some real observation, or entirely my bias at this point, but I thought I'd mention it too.

And here, since we have Dr. Garcia with us, I wanted to point out something. Below is the scene where Dr. Santos drops the scalpel straight into Garcia's foot. As you can see, it hurts. Nevertheless, Garcia is a doctor, so she swallows her pain and doesn't take Robby's offer to switch over. She's going to finish what she started. I guess that's how all doctors are? (are supposed to be? ;)

And looking at her as she performs the procedure, if you didn't know that she was literally stabbed in the foot, would you even be able to tell that she's in pain? Like I said before, moderate, or even moderately severe pain can be invisible to bystanders.

Back to Langdon. Here he is, once again putting some of his weight on the patient--his sternum this time. In the next screencap he's seated at the patient's bedside while Santos is standing. And in the final pic, he's leaning against the desk.

To finish off this part I wanted to add something about Frank Langdon's more obvious storyline this season--his addiction. These posts I'm making about him possibly suffering more or less severe pain, aren't meant to downplay the seriousness of addiction and substance abuse.

Even if he is in pain, the way he went about it, self medicating, is not the right way. "Physician heal thyself" shouldn't be taken literally, you kno... There's a reason doctors aren't supposed to treat their close relatives and treating yourself takes away any remaining objectivity and common sense out of the equation.

Another reason I'm focusing on the pain angle more, than on addiction/withdrawal angle (although some types of pain, and certainly muscle tightness/spasticity may be directly associated with benzo withdrawal), is because this is what interests me. It's as simple as that. No moral judgment, no attempt to find arguments that "he's not really addicted". I don't do sneaky and manipulative. I just... missed my calling. I should have been a medieval torturer kidding, goddess, I'm kidding!

That's all for now. Thank you for sticking with me. :)

[yannisdesk]

Arcane: Is it Copaganda?

I talked about this a bit on twitter, but I will type it up here and elaborate (we all know twt is not the place for longform content anyway). My main argument for Arcane being copaganda isn't due to the existence of Caitvi being Enforcers in season 2, it mainly has to do with Marcus, and how his contribution to the narrative is handled.

Arcane makes it pretty clear from the jump that Marcus is corrupt; he was more than willing to use excessive force against Zaunites who posed no threat to him early in Act 1, foregoes due process to strike a deal with an up and coming crime lord to take down four kids, one of which is possibly an age that's not even in the double-digits, then kidnaps a 15 year-old Vi, and throws her into Stillwater, a notoriously horrifying prison, indefinitely (life sentence) with no trial or records - all done so he could allegedly keep her "safe" (more on this later).

Marcus is then showed not only continuing to uphold his end of the deal with Silco, which includes allowing shimmer to spread throughout the Undercity, but also directly benefitting from it, becoming sheriff in seven years or less. He shows some resentment over this, but nothing to the point of actually going out of his way to do the right thing or change his situation. He dies, in a show of overt police brutality, trying to kill Caitlyn and Ekko for trying to negotiate peace for Zaun and justice for Silco's actions.

And what happens afterwards in regards to the greater implications this could have for the narrative addressing state violence and corruption, and how it's maintained through organizations like law enforcement? Absolutely nothing.

You would think Marcus, the literal sheriff, being involved in high-level conspiracy, corruption, and who knows what else, would be a wakeup call to people like Caitlyn who are Enforcers but are supposedly in it for altruistic reasons; and also possibly to the council and Piltover overall - "Hey, there's a serious issue with our law enforcement if the sheriff of all people could turn out like that. Maybe we should clean house?" I'm no fool, I didn't expect Arcane to do a police abolishment plotline because that would be a one-way ticket to getting review bombed by rabid "anti-woke" dudebros who never cared about the show anyway; but the Enforcers are not challenged or elaborated on in the slightest in season 2, if anything they get worse.

Caitlyn knows that Marcus, her boss, was corrupt, imprisoned her girlfriend indefinitely when she was just a teenager, and got away with it Scott-free. Had it not been for Jinx's bridge attack in S1E7, Marcus would've killed her, Ekko, and Vi who'd ran back to try and save them. And he more than likely would've gotten away with that too. But we never see her ponder this at all, not even in season 1.

We're shown Enforcers being horrible throughout first season. The warden, who is an Enforcer, brags about how many times he's brutalized Vi. We're shown Enforcers slamming a Zaunite through glass windows for responding with being called a slur with spitting on their boots, we're shown in the "Enemy" music video that Enforcers slammed young Vi and Powder against gates for random searches and how humiliating that is.

But come season 2? All of that is washed away. I thought they were going to do something with how willing the Enforcers were to use the Grey, but no, not even that's addressed after Act 1. No one from Caitlyn's strike team ever faces consequences for that. Maddie dies because she betrayed Caitlyn, and Loris is killed in the midst of battle against Noxus, but neither of those scenarios has anything to do with their willingness to comply with wielding gas weaponry against an entire population of people. Maddie spying on Caitlyn for Ambessa is treated as a greater crime than her actions in Zaun. Vi has the audacity of going around calling other people traitors as if she also did not comply and defend it. Same goes for Caitlyn, Loris, and Steb.

And as for the rest of season 2, we get glimpses of the Enforcers rounding up Zaunites and participating in martial law, which was brutal on the Undercity, but again, it's never given any narrative weight the way it was in season 1. Come time for the main characters to fight off the new Big Bad™️(Ambessa + Noxus and Viktor) all of a sudden the Enforcers are shown mostly in positive or humorous lights. Gert, who has spent most of season 2 rebelling against them because of their heightened tyranny under Caitlyn, is all of a sudden willing to join them and die wearing their uniform just because one of them behaved like a human for half-a-second. The show ends with Caitlyn and Vi being active members on the force, and that's where it ends.

I believe Marcus is mentioned possibly once in act 1 of season 2 (I'm not rewatching to confirm), but other than that his entire influence is dropped, which is just strange and unrealistic, and is a lost opportunity for Arcane to address this topic beyond the surface. You would think someone like Caitlyn or even Vi, or hell, anyone would at least attempt to use his story as inspiration for a reformist angle, but no, we didn't even get that. Marcus is relegated to a "one bad apple" cliche, which is when cops who get caught up with corruption or brutality are treated as outliers within the system, not reflections of the systems deeper problems; which you'd think with Marcus, being the sheriff, would mean the writers would take advantage of that, but no they don't. The other half to that "one bad apple" saying is "spoils the whole bunch" - there were definitely plenty of Enforcers who were either complicit, just like him, or even worse. But the writers abolished that for whatever reason and gave us this whitewashed slop of a plot with the Enforcers which was equal parts insulting and dissatisfactory. Treating Marcus as "one bad apple" is copaganda, full stop, and that affected the rest of the story. The Enforcers have not even attempted to reform at all; they've just wrecked even more havoc on Zaun and got away with it, and characters who'd you would expect to have something to say about that don't because the writers desperately want you to forget about this aspect of the story because it clashes with their "the devil you know"-centric finale.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Part 12

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You wouldn’t call yourself a totally hopeless romantic, but when Leon showed up at your door dressed to the T, holding roses, and asking you out with a charming smirk you nearly swooned.

You placed the flowers in a vase on your kitchen counter where they would probably stay long after they wilted. You took note of how long it even took you to find an actual vase in your place, not to mention how dusty it was.

Modern ‘dating’ has drowned out so much romance these days.

It had been so long since you went on a date you forgot how nice it felt to get out of the house with other people, how nice it felt to be the center of someone's attention and admiration. You wouldn’t say you craved it necessarily but you definitely lacked a lot of social interaction. Not to mention you were 100% touch-starved.

Leon picked you up and took you out to see a movie, it was an unconventional first date but you didn’t mind. Especially not when he held your hand and bought you expensive movie theater snacks. It was cute and simple. It wasn’t like you were expecting a whole lot.

On the way there the two of you got to know each other better, you found out his mother had died 4 years ago and that he had been helping his dad with the restaurant ever since. 

You felt so much respect for him that he’d stuck by his father to help him.

The two of you played 20 questions for most of the car ride, learning simple things about each other like favorite movies, preferred colors, and biggest dreams

It eased a lot of the anxiety you’d been feeling since he picked you up.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice how nervous you were and if your palms were sweaty in his, he never commented on it. 

The movie was a comedy that you enjoyed, although you kept getting distracted by Leon playfully stealing your popcorn. 

You were so used to doing things by yourself that you forgot how fun simple things were with other people. 

You really should try to make more friends. 

Your train of thought drifted to Nat a lot of times throughout the night. For some reason, you kept wondering if she would enjoy doing things like this with you. You let yourself indulge in your fantasy for a moment, pretending that Leon was Nat and that you two were meeting up for the first time but not the last time. It wasn’t a bad date but you found it felt better when you imagined Nat there.

You felt less nervous.

It almost got to the point where a joke was made in the movie about spies and you turned to laugh with Nat about the inside joke, only to find Leon with his eyes trained on the screen.

You were the only one in the theater who had laughed.

You shook the thoughts out of your head. Here Leon was treating you to a nice movie and you’re thinking about someone else. 

The rest of the date you tried to focus on Leon and the movie but now there was a distinct feeling of something missing. 

You hated how easily Nat could take over your brain lately, and how much hope and happiness you got from imagining her with you everywhere.

It was becoming a problem so much that you really did begin taking her with you everywhere.

When you went to the grocery store there she was telling you sassily that you should eat more than frozen pizza and chicken nuggets. 

(An argument you’d had over text many times)

When you went to the library she was there telling you to pick out books other than romance novels

Everywhere you went she was there commenting on things

Always faceless but wearing that same red t-shirt from the photo she sent you.

You didn’t realize just how much she had begun to infiltrate your life until now. 

In a way, it comforted you. 

If you couldn’t have the real thing then maybe you could live with Imaginary Nat.

When Leon dropped you off at your apartment you kissed him on the cheek and entered your apartment with a smiling face, immediately opening your phone to text Nat about the whole ordeal. She was quick to text back, she had been more responsive since your break from each other. 

And sassier than ever as well

          Nat🔪:

Nat🔪: 

A Movie? Really?

Y/n🍦:

Shut up it was cute

He held my hand and bought me popcorn

Nat🔪:

Wow.

I’m teeming with jealousy.

Y/n🍦:

It was a first date

Nothing's perfect on a first date.

Nat🔪:

Whoever told you that was a liar.

C’mon, you can’t be serious about that…

Y/n🍦:

I don’t think I’ve ever had a perfect first date

Nat🔪:

Then you’ve been with all the wrong people Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

Where would you take someone on a first date?

She took a while to type, the three dots appearing and disappearing numerous times. You took the spare time to get ready for bed and change into your pajamas. You hopped into bed, reveling in the warmth that the covers brought you. 

Nat🔪:

Depends on the person

Y/n🍦:

Did you take all that time to type that?

What were you thinking before you pressed backspace?

Nat🔪:

Well a date idea for you - based on what you’ve 

told me about yourself-

Probably a rooftop picnic. 

Y/n🍦:

Oh?

You hadn’t been on a picnic in a long time. Going on one did sound nice actually…

Nat🔪:

Since you never get out of the house 

Y/n🍦: 

Hey! I get out enough!

Nat🔪:

Maybe I’d bring a game or some paints, 

You can learn a lot about someone by what they 

Paint on a first date.

Then I’d probably want to walk around 

with you for a bit just to listen to you talk.

Then I’d take you out stargazing. You seem like the type.

Hypothetically, of course.

You threw your phone onto your bed and turned to scream into your pillow. It really was not fair how suave Nat could be sometimes. And how were you supposed to gush about your date when she just made up a much better hypothetical date? You were pretty sure you were blushing more at her idea than you had all night with Leon.

Y/n🍦:

Hypothetically you’re right.

That sounds like a dream

Are you speaking from experience?

You were trying to prepare yourself for if the answer was yes, you had to admit you’d be pretty jealous of whoever got that date. Although you think you’d probably be jealous of anyone going out with Nat, she seems like the type of person to treat her partner right.

You tried not to let your brain go down that path.

Nat🔪:

All of that was specific to you, Y/n.

I wouldn’t do that with anyone else

Screw it, all of your apprehension went out of the window. What were you supposed to say to that?

You immediately began imagining the date Nat described, your favorite foods sprawled across a stereotypical red and white blanket as you looked over the city. Walking around Central Park for hours, finally talking to Nat in person and hearing what her laugh sounded like. Driving away from central New York to the outskirts of town where you can see a million stars. It all sounded like the perfect day. 

And when you tried to imagine it with Leon or anyone else it just didn’t feel quite right.

But you would never get that with her.

So even though it made your heart flutter and your stomach flip you pushed out the thoughts of you and Nat together.

Even if you really wanted to be. 

Shit, You were so in over your head.

~~~

Normally showers were your happy place but You’d practically freaked out when Leon told you your next date would be at a fancy expensive restaurant down the street. You’d passed by it so many times and wondered what the inside looked like but you never thought you’d actually eat there. It made you exponentially nervous.

The types of people you saw going in there were nothing like you.

And if you were honest, you weren’t sure you wanted to be anything like them.

But Leon was treating you and it was such a classic date idea, especially in the movies.

You couldn’t just say no.

Briefly, you wondered if Nat was the kind of person to enjoy expensive restaurants. The thought of her sparked an idea in your head:

Maybe Nat could help you out.

You finished cleaning up and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body and quickly wiping your fingers on it to grab your phone.

You paused the soft music you’d been playing and opened the messages app.

Pausing to reread and huff out a laugh at your previous messages. 

Something about Nat complaining about not getting any privacy with her roommates. Something you only recently found out she had.

               Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Emergency!

Nat’s responses were immediate and you almost felt bad for phrasing your text so urgently

Nat🔪:

What?

What is it

Are you okay?

Y/n🍦:

I don’t have anything to wear 😫

Nat🔪:

I’m blocking you.

Y/n🍦:

Natttt 

I need your help

Please

Nat?

Where’d you go?

Nat🔪:

You can no longer send messages to this number

Y/n🍦:

That’s not the real blocked message.

You pathological liar. At least make it believable.

For real I need your help

Nat🔪:

Why is this such a big deal?

Y/n🍦:

I have to wear something fancy to this restaurant

Leon is taking me to.

It’s called Sharp Cuisine

Nat🔪:

Fancy?

That’s not very you

Didn't you two literally meet in a diner?

Y/n🍦:

Hey, I’ll never say no to free food.

Nat🔪:

How can he even afford a place like that?

Y/n🍦:

Maybe he has connections?

Nat🔪:

If that’s the case have fun eating

In the storage closet

Y/n🍦: 

I’m so stressed out, I don’t

Go out enough to have fancy outfits.

I think there’s dust on my clubbing outfit…

Nat🔪:

That’s depressing.

Dates aren’t meant to be stressful Y/n.

Maybe you should tell him?

Y/n🍦:

He already made reservations 

Not everyone is as romantic as you Nat.

I wish.

Nat🔪:

Fine, show me your options.

Y/n🍦:

Thank God

I Love you (Deleted)

I owe you!

~

When you’d gotten to the restaurant you were still self-conscious but you felt a lot better in the outfit Nat helped you pick, along with the accessories she told you would pair with it perfectly.

Halfway through the -honestly average dinner a fancy server approached you with a plate. Your favorite dessert sat prettily decorated and you stared in awe. Worried you might start drooling soon you turned to Leon to thank him only for him to turn to the waiter with concern etched onto his features

“Sorry but, I didn’t order this”

You furrowed your eyebrows, disappointment settling at the fact that the server probably delivered it to the wrong table

“I’m well aware sir, someone came in and told us to give it to someone named Y/n?”

You perked up at that, something hopeful and curious stirring inside your chest

“I’m Y/n” The waiter turned his attention to you, nodding his head slightly as if to say he already knew

“Yes I was given a description of your dress” He places the dessert next to your half-eaten meal and then hands you a note written on a napkin and walks away to serve another table.

You took a bite out of the sugary dish and nearly moaned at how good it was, after a few more bites you finally looked down and read the note written in pretty but precise handwriting.

“I have connections too. Enjoy your dessert, Y/n ;) ~ Nat”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest,

She was here.

Pt.13

-Writing Leon and Y/n scenes is literally sooo hard for me I’m sorry- that’s why they might b boring~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx

[myapothecarydiary]

Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 3

An expansion on an idea presented last chapter–how Jinshi's appearance affects how others treat him and the potential seriousness of it. Don't want to take it too far, but could it be said that people treat him how women are often treated in real life? With cat-calling and such. Only there's a difference in the power dynamics at play as Jinshi is in a role of authority.

Here we are also getting more insight into Jinshi's internal life and thoughts, which present a notable contrast to how Maomao views him and the persona she has so far observed. He's not all charming smiles and sparkles, we see him contemplative and expressing a range of emotions.

As of now, though her intelligence is notable, you wouldn't say Maomao could check these boxes, but lineage + beauty + intelligence are qualifications I think we should keep in mind in relation to her character. Maomao low key has some princess raised as a peasant vibes going on. Maomao and "a sense of virtue" have a less clearcut relationship, but it will be a topic of conversation in the future.

I think it's easy to imagine that in a more typical story, Maomao might have a more Cinderella-like arc, a peasant gaining the attention/favor of the Emperor through beauty and kindness and I am once again reminded of how Maomao is valued first and foremost for her intelligence. She will be found to be beautiful, but her beauty did not gain her Jinshi's attention or her position as a lady-in-waiting.

Both Maomao and Jinshi think of the rear palace as a cage. I wonder if he considers it a cage for himself as well considering what he must do to occupy space there? Or is it simply the opposite–a path to freedom? Perhaps both?

Jinshi also recognizes the role he is to play, but that does not mean he supports all the actions he must take. Everything is not always what it seems. Like Maomao, Jinshi is pragmatic about his appearance and recognizes the value/power in his beauty, but he also seems to resent it to some degree and view it as a burden. Pragmatic but resigned.

Jinshi's pov on the entire concubine system is quite interesting. He seems to disapprove of how things are done (and how the consorts/women are treated?) Surely this clashes with his desire for the Emperor to secure an heir?

Is "the plan" the one regarding the aphrodisiac (and the mid-ranking concubine/military officer)? Or his wider plan regarding working in the rear palace?

I'm wondering about what exactly produces Jinshi's feelings of...let's call it "glee"? in regards to "using" Maomao and how useful she will prove to be. Is it that she entertains him? Excites what feels like a dull and monotonous life? Is it that he enjoys exercising power in this way? I feel it's more the former, especially since he next goes on to describe how she treats him differently than anyone else he has ever encountered. She is novel. And Jinshi, as someone used to people being taken with his beauty, enjoys how her reaction to him goes beyond being unaffected by his beauty to the point of being repelled by it.

It's interesting that Maomao can seem rather monotone and subdued (except when she's not–she is extremely expressive when it comes to what she is passionate about, like poison), but her face also often acts as a give away. (Is that just a Jinshi related thing?) I mentioned this in the previous chapter and how she skirts the line in terms of respectfulness in how her actions and expressions (and even tone) clash, but maybe she isn't really so successful in skirting the line if her expression is so obvious.

I find it interesting how the manga opts to adapt the idea of Maomao as a "new toy" for Jinshi–he is the one to think it and make that connection. Also lol at it having him explicitly state he's "not a masochist" because hmm there's an argument to be made that both he and Maomao derive pleasure from pain.

Maomao as intriguing to Jinshi feels important. I said that he values her knowledge and skills, and I suppose that + how she treats him differently than others do (+ him eventually seeing her as quite beautiful) forms the basis of his attraction to her. But her being intriguing also factors into that and reminds me of all the intrigue and mysteries Maomao (and Jinshi) get involved in. She herself is like a mystery to be solved (as is he to her as the story goes on!)

Maomao as a toy also speaks to how Jinshi uses her. Yes, she entertains him, but "toy" also connotes a power dynamic (and so part of the enjoyment does come from having power over her?) Maomao is of course later referred to as a cat, not to mention her actual name, and Maomao as Jinshi's pet seems like an apt way to describe their initial dynamic.

(oh no she fell down a (pet) rabbit hole) BUT I really think there is something to be said for considering Maomao and Jinshi through "pet" and all its various meanings. Only thing is Maomao is not tamed or domesticated XD (but maybe she'll trend in that direction as time goes on aka adapt to Jinshi's lifestyle and status?)

For now, Jinshi is the master and holds the power in a traditional sense, but he will also quickly develop affection and favoritism for Maomao (and wants her companionship!) + despite how the dynamic should work, Maomao will hold power over him in turn (as with actual cats, the question is who is really the master and I think the answer is both)

Cutie Maomao appreciation segue

The panacea is presented here as a bit of a segue itself and to show Maomao's enthusiasm + passion + dedication to medicine and experimentation, but it always feels like a weighted thing to drop, like it will be important later, at least symbolically/metaphorically. Perhaps it also works as the perfect intersection of Maomao's care for others + thirst for knowledge/curiosity.

Mini Maomao! A reminder of how petite she is and how that works along with her status (as a visual representation of it in contrast with characters higher up who tower over her). Another way she appears unassuming and is underestimated.

(also–yay Gaoshun is here!!)

In terms of Jinshi using Maomao vs Maomao using Jinshi– Jinshi's status enables Maomao access and freedom (that she wouldn't normally be afforded in her position and situation) through her connection to him. She is able to do work she enjoys and indulge her curiosities because of him.

Circling back to what I said earlier about how Maomao can seem subdued but is extremely expressive when it comes to what she is passionate about. And it actually goes beyond her facial expressions, her whole body is invigorated and taken over XD

Her blushing expression and body position at the top of that second page almost resembles a girl in love lol

It is an interesting adaptational choice to make Jinshi's expression kind of an unamused frown here–I wonder what to make of it. (We get it described as "He watched her with a mixture of curiosity and sheer bewilderment" in the light novel). Especially as it presents Maomao in a different light than he has seen her in so far.

It feels like Maomao is almost actively seeking reasons to criticize and dislike Jinshi (to justify the instinctual bad vibes she gets? And going off the fake-ness she picks up on. This can also demonstrate a general dislike of people in high positions and the behavior their status affords them) but also this moment illustrates her appreciation for hard work and competence. Not that Jinshi is doing anything admirable here, it is just that Maomao seems determined to (understandably) see the worst in him/leans into bad faith interpretations of his actions.

Paper and ice–I call this the collection of planting seeds for future storylines and topics. I love how we're given information that will be relevant later in a way that feels natural and factors into the world-building.

Things to add to Maomao's list of skills XD

Okay Miss Maomao getting distracted on the job! More of her getting invigorated by her passions and how they can take over her mind and focus. But also amusing considering her criticisms of Jinshi "having too much free time" (yes, she still washed the dishes and did work, but her attention was diverted and she lost track of time)

More of Maomao's skill set and add alcohol to the list of seeds for the future (and lol @ everyone's reactions to her late night snack plans "what weird shit is this girl into?")

"Alcohol can be categorized as a type of medicine. The more sensitive a person is to a particular drug, the greater the impact." Not just a seed but add it to the pile of potential poison/medicine symbolism

More lol @ Maomao. I said her upbringing in the pleasure district serves her well in the rear palace, but it (in addition to her apothecary background) also give her a unique and potentially off-putting outlook. This whole scenario can go to show how in spite of her regard for propriety, Maomao doesn't always behave how she "should."

More of how Maomao frames Jinshi–"anyone would be attracted to him but to me, he is a worm." Does Maomao's familiarity with beauty make it somewhat ineffective on her? She makes the connection here about how Jinshi's beauty could be a burden (or not just harmful to others but to himself).

I also enjoy how a blushing Jinshi is described as being enough "to make anyone lose their head" when Maomao often says she does things/follows orders because she wants to keep her head attached to her body (aka not be executed).

Jinshi's attractiveness to both men and women is both a nod to varying sexualities and how he in a way transcends a binary understanding of gender presentation. I think it is interesting how Maomao is so blunt and matter-of-fact about people's attraction, to Jinshi and in general.

Similarly, I love this (repeated) matter-of-fact outlook on aphrodisiacs and pleasure from Maomao (it is almost non-judgmental but also emphasizes safety).

Alright, guess who used too many images and so has to continue this post elsewhere for the very end of the chapter...

[velvetvexations]

It is so unbelievable how many fucking anti transmasc losers there are!! It's unbelievable, it really is just like ace discourse. Every fucking blog, I have to search 'transmasc' and 'TME' just like I had to search 'ace' and 'asexual' back in the day People will JUMP at the chance to do this shit over again huh

You should read up on the Cultural Revolution because it just keeps happening.

Ok not to double send but...

Blogs like yours do WONDERS for my mental health. Knowing there are actually people in my corner while I realise I'm a trans man is phenomenal

I'm glad to help! <3

my passing status is nebulous. sometimes i pass, but mostly i dont. im a trans guy with a thing for crossdressing so sometimes i have actual, legitimate euphoria vibes over just... sitting in my car and looking feminine. like "you all think im a girl but SECRETLY IM A BOY!!!" and it feels really good because like. yeah. i can look like a girl but nothing will change that i am a boy 😊😊 trans guy crossdresser again, my passing status is also really weird because i am intersex. my mustache confuses people, and that's great

That's similar to how I feel. People think I'm misgendering myself when I call myself male but it's more like I'm asserting dominance over gendered expectations lol. I'm male and I'm still a woman anyway.

thank you for your blog. a musician i really respected went super anti-transmasc recently and its really hurt, and the stuff here makes me feel like. less insane for having an issue with it

I'm really, really sorry anon. I love you a lot. <3

love that this person is calling people who believe that trans men can be oppressed "chuds", a word that is mostly used to talk about right-wing conservative men

transandro reactionaries dontcha know

"internet tough guys" still exist in 2024?????????????

Someone said something like "no one wants to fight you" and I was thinking "no actually I'm dead serious I would actually."

anyone who tries to debunk transandrophobia by throwing in "you people" has automatically lost the argument imo. but also I need to rant. as That Guy in your inbox who hangs out in bear and leather bars it makes me genuinely want to chew through the floor when people are like "oh well queer people don't demonize masculinity" GO OUTSIDE. YES THEY DO. there is a REASON fat hairy balding men tend to have our own damn spaces, because no one else will take us. FUCK.

if people want to insist that everyone around them has always recognized their soul-gender and no one is ever treated like anything but what they identify as maybe they should stop talking about what genders that aren't theirs experience

I'm a bisexual trans man who does not pass and never will pass and I have spent over 30 years of my life being told my experiences aren't real mostly by other queer people and I am so, so, so, so, SO jaded by it. I'm done. If you tell me "your lived experiences are not a real thing" then you're the villain. I can't stand it. I genuinely cannot take it anymore. I have absolutely nowhere to go and I feel so unbelievably hopeless.

Try to hang in there anon. It's okay to disengage and avoid discourse. I know it's not always possible, but there's nothing wrong with unplugging from this shit as much as you can. You have to focus on your happiness.

I love you. <3

[jackdaniel69nice]

remember u mentioned the big rant about noumu two days ago? gimme gimme

The way the nomu have been treated has been highly over looked. The first nomu we met was an empty shell to be puppeted around. They had no intelligence and was deemed “braindead” or “inhuman”. This set the standard for how all nomu were treated even when those conditions were no longer true. The high end nomu (like kurogiri) were highly intelligent, in fact they had the memories of their preceding lives and personalities, they were COMPLETELY human. The nomu process was more of a quirk addition upgrade than anything. And then at Jaku they were all slaughtered.

I’m not saying the hero’s (including Aizawa!) are in the wrong for killing them, oh no, it was completely within their discretion to make that decision. But I AM saying the hero’s decision to kill the nomu was the exact same thing as Hawks killing Twice, and yet it was NEVER treated or even mentioned in the manga in such a way. The entire matter is COMPLETELY brushed over. In the mha universe the nomu have no protection of rights, anyone can do ANYTHING to them. Kurogiri and Shigaraki are nomu, the HPSC could have them killed after their arrest due to them being too “dangerous”, they could even be experimented on like animals to see how they were made. We are familiar with Shigaraki and kurogiri, we knew them before and after they became nomu and even subconsciously still think of them as human, we still give them the respect to be treated like people.

I think the biggest distinction between kurogiri and Shigaraki and the high end nomu are their appearances. The nomu have MUTANT traits, and that is what makes them seen as monsters. When you make an argument that the nomu were “evil” and needed to be killed think about all the other villains with strong power and heteromorph traits that have been arrested instead (like at the usj). Hero’s are supposed to be nonlethal, they are supposed to arrest a perpetrator with as little harm as possible. The biggest running theme in mha is the idea that EVERYONE can change, everyone can be redeemed, so why weren’t the high ends given that chance?

When you start calling a certain group of people “monsters” and dehumanizing them the line you draw between them and others is very thin. If people start seeing the nomu as monsters what about the people that LOOK like nomu. The line becomes blurry and suddenly these completely innocent people are being targeted. Some people even mistook Midoriya as a nomu, they were afraid of him because he had multiple quirks and appeared dangerous. I have no doubt the tension between heteromorphs and non-heteromorphs escalated so quickly because of this, we saw how Ippan Josei (ordinary woman) was treated as a villain.

Once again I need to say I’m not actually criticizing the death of the high ends, if the hero’s had been trying to keep from killing them they never would of won, but this was a lose lose scenario. This is a WAR, there were deaths on both sides and every battle is a fight to survive; you have to do what you must to win. I am only saying the deaths of the nomu wasn’t treated like it should have been in the manga by the characters. Every day I’m very VERY glad the HPSC has been eradicated.

My personal theory/hc for the post war era is that all the surviving top heros will retire and form a new government maybe even with nezu as president. I firmly believe because of kurogiri being an example of someone who is “good” but also a nomu will lead to any remaining high ends like shigaraki to getting human rights (aizawa wouldn’t stand for anything less). It’s really important to note that most of the nomu were just normal PEOPLE that were horribly experimented on, it would be in the best interest to help them with treatment. Maybe there could even be a way to restore their minds and undo the process.