#i am finally feeling better now :) mentally and physically yay

[fallingmaddlyinlove]

health update letsgooo:

UGHH i think my fourth procedure of this month was finally 100% successful, which means there will be no more complications!!!! (hopefully!!) 😩 i also think i can finally get rid of the drainage tubes too soon!! 🥰🤞i apparently also got 15 staples across my abdomen and four more down another incision site, so that's fun. it's healing well tho. no more 8/10 pain!! :)

moral of the story? (a little disclaimer/PSA 🥰): all of these complications (drainage tubes, 4 hour long open abdominal surgery, 2 endoscopic procedures, opioid withdrawal from 24/7 use) were 100% my fault. i ignored my gallbladder issues for literal years and ruined my biliary system in the process. all for the purpose of avoiding surgery in the first place 😀 (don't do what i did. don't ignore your health if you are able to treat it PLEASE I'M NOT JOKING LMAO)

i have been in the hospital for 20 days 🙂

[bunnyshideawayy]

cassian. great man, wonderful friend, absolutely terrible mate.

we have seen Nesta’s sisters, who arguably have less of a reason, defend her more than Cassian has ever thought about. HELLO?

my issue with cassian acosf and onward is that we are truly expected to believe they he deeply understands Nesta when he’s been shown time and again to never stick up for her and never fully trust her. he does nothing to help her over come and face her traumas / depression, she’s left to do that on her own, but best believe he’s down to fuck and make her hike! (no sarah sex and physical exercise are not cures)

after reading the entire series once and now twice seeing Rhys threatening anyone who dares breath wrong in Feyre’s direction under the guise of just “protecting his mate” i find it extremely hard to believe cassian allowed or even sides with anyone who speaks ill of/to Nesta or threatens her- all of which Rhysand and most of the IC (besides her sisters and Az) do, most of the time while directly in front of cassian in conversations he’s involved in. the most he does is…pout a little? throws a hissy fit? the two times i can remember him even remotely stick up for Nesta he immednantly backtracks as soon as Rhysand pushes back, both times the final decision being put in Feyre’s hands, this continues even into CC3 (and let’s thank the mother Feyre loves her sisters which is something ik yall nesta haters can’t stand.)

let’s move onto something i know yall don’t want to talk about, his verbal abuse. “oh but nesta also said-“ we know what she said, that is not the point. if this man knew all along nesta was his mate and truly wanted to help her heal from her traumas and depression why did he take every chance he could to provoke her? Nesta called Rhysand an asshole, and he IS especially to Nesta, and instead of keeping silent as he does when Rhys/the IC harshly critique her, he immediately gets angry and in her face to defend him. funny he can’t do that with her, his MATE? or let’s talk about this scene

oh okay! that’s totally something you say unprompted to your mate who is severely depressed and traumatized because she won’t eat! she’s totally not shaking because she’s triggered! then to add the lecture “we’ve been here before, too” oh okay! so you admit you know what she feels like (very doubtful although i’m not going to compare their traumas, both are valid he just does not understand her like he thinks he does) it’s patronizing and a little frustrating. she doesn’t want to be there in the first place, purposely throwing a sensitive subject in her face will not magically motivate her or cure her- she is simply doing what she has no choice in. she has been stripped of all autonomy, humanity, and “normality”- she feels alone and valuable in a way she as never felt before and she has NO HELP. none!

i’ll end with the hike. yay more physical activity as punishment- but if i said that was abuse yall will bring up the pregnancy so ill do it for you! Yes, Nesta was wrong to tell Feyre THE WAY SHE DID, she had every right to tell Feyre about her own body and pregnancy, it just shouldn’t have happened the way it did. everyone knew it was wrong to keep it from Feyre, even Cassian, so instead of forcing her to hike a mountain as punishment to ware her down mentally and physically he couldve stood up for both Feyre and Nesta to Rhysand the moment he threatens to KILL NESTA. a simple “hey buddy you knew it was wrong to keep that from Feyre you can’t kill my mate for telling her even if it was out of anger” would suffice. not once during their entire hike or during her breakdown does he reassure her, not even when she is tearing herself apart because she doesn’t feel worthy. don’t even get me started on what happens in CC3.

over all i think Nessian is great and they have some great moments, the end of ACOWAR lives rent free in my mind but i am incredibly disappointed with Cassian. i do feel like Nesta deserves better from everyone (besides Feyre and Elain who, again, are the only ones who i truly believe love her unconditionally.)

anti nesta’s this is not a safe space for you.

[midwinterwings]

Happy deitykin euphoria moments :D this is the first time I feel comfortable in my body holy crap. Here's some nerding and yay maybe this blog will be positive instead of having repeated mental breakdowns...yay

*deep breath*

I have COOL WINGS now! (Bodily) I still love them, I hope they stay. My wings are more conceptual as they shift, theyre kind of like shadows, because they more represent flying/realm crossing than my 'true form''s wings. So they kind of flicker like shadows but they are sort of corporeal in that I can feel them somewhat. Nontheless, I love feeling them and stretching them so they fill up my entire room. It feels great. I can even sort of control them now, for example stretching them, or flapping them, whereas before I couldn't really control them. Although now I feel weird lying on my back because owchie even though my wings are made of shadows I can't really banish them at will. It's more of a spiritual ouch than a physical ouch but still, it feels so weird.

2. My talons also moved to the physical realm too and it feels great! They took root where my hands would have been. Theyre sharp.

3. I can finally read mythology without having a breakdown! Yay...my sense of identity is extremely strong these days. I do have self doubt at times but it dosent consume me and cause a meltdown cuz yea reading the myths would trigger me bad as the self doubt spiral would start.

4. I moved most of me into the physical realm and stretched myself out to fill the body with me so now it's mine. And I feel great. I'm able to fly and vibe as myself even in the physical realm (no not in a physical manner obviously, its sorta like.-)

Imagine the body is an empty rubber toy. I have brought me out of just incorporeal realm and 'base realm' and stretched me out from the inside and filling the rubber toy so bodily I'm most of what im like in base realm - not in a literal way but I'm able to express me completely in some aspects with the limited material I have to work with, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Admittedly I piggybacked on my raven form which is already firmly in the body, my deity form (which is another expression of my raven form) isnt quite done figuring out where everything goes but it's got a good template. Holy shit you have no idea how many years it took to learn how to exist and feel normal.

5. I figured out who I am which is...*flops on ground* I've gotten beaten up so many damn times it was fucking hard, because we kept finding more and more Stuff to unravel like plurality and all the while existence is painful...and jarring, as it is, while the body's 'family and friends' think its the anxiety and adhd that are the reason they had no idea we'd been trying to learn how to make us gain a physical form in different realms lol and learn how to 'shut off' or dull other ones because HEY its HARD to live in so many ok?? Meds helped. Now I can only feel 3, 4 max. Could probably feel more if I wanted but...no thanks. I just wanna exist here man I have better senses and there's good food like pizza and stuff even if I can't fly ok.

The relief and being able to just..exist..without encountering pitfall after jarring pitfall is Hecking rad. I need to rest. At the same time I'm so excited and relieved, it's the first time I feel real, present in this realm, whereas before it was like staring at the physical realm through a pane of thick half opaque glass, unable to interact, to just watch.

But interact I shall, and interact I will. *puffs out chest and flies into a window*

[tenebrius-excellium]

Personal progress in life (long and mixed) below :) ↓ It's really mixed now lol O_O. No longer bad! Can't believe myself sometimes. But do beware the mixed.

Hiii. Today it's at this point where it's a sunny Saturday and I could easily do nice Things (and I'm going to, don't worry) but for the moment I'm still sitting around not doing anything much because. I just scrolled past a wonderful woman on social media who happily described just how easily she is able to do stuff without depression now and just how much she gets accomplished before 8am in the morning and I got massive wiplash from that cuz. Yeah. Yes. Can relate. It really is like that. It's surprising just how light everything gets when there's not a crushing weight of pressure and anxiety bearing on your soul. A weight that normal people don't feel at all and get the luxury to call lazy. And it's still petrifying.

Cuz like. There were two crucial momentums of change that drastically improved my life in a way where it now definitely feels livable.

One was emotional and one was physical. The one was about finally contacting my bio family. Things just radically clicked into place. The other was about discovering and treating my dangerous-level iron deficiency.

I feel good, y'all. The family thing just gave me so much peace and quiet on the inside. It's called a proper identity. Knowing who you are. The iron support is what gets me up at 8am now instead of the old 11:30. I'm in less female pain and my body feels more strong and stable. I'm less cold. I'm bristling with so much energy that it actually feels uncomfortable because I was used to sleeping so much more. I get up at 8 now, but I easily could do 6 now if I chose so. I did that. Last weekend. Without coffee. I did not need an afternoon nap. I could have gone til past midnight. It feels super awkward to not be tired, because I don't dare spend all that energy yet. It feels fake.

(And the craziest thing? I'm still iron deficient. Just getting a little better made that much of a difference.)

People in the social media lady's comments claimed "maniac phase". No. Sometimes, you really push the right button and things click into the places where they're supposed to be. Sometimes you get that eureka moment, and everything changes for the better longterm.

It's just... I know that there's another button that I need to find and push to truly achieve the ability to steer the course of my own life. I believe it's another emotional one, and I do NOT look forward to dealing with that. I don't really know how to, anyway. The other two moments didn't happen out of rational decisions that were made upon observation of what was wrong with me. It was desperation both times that drove me to the solution. I did not have the strength or the courage for either, it was pure desperation and this 'fuck it I might as well fuck it up even more' mentality (sorry for language).

So right now I'm back in this sort of frenzy where I don't want to deal with stuff but I HAVE to because all that's left is the financial part. And I need to grow up. I'm completely frozen in that area; can't hold down a job for a DAY without thinking about a breakdown. I don't know exactly what this is tied to, and I want to be done searching so badly. But what if I am done. And what if I don't like what I found?

My point is, I guess, that I'm doing pretty amazing (yay!) :) but at the same time, I'm sort of staring blank at the year-long struggles that it always takes to get to those eureka moments. It's traumatizing in its own way to think that the solution could have been there all this time. It's frustrating to humiliate myself over and over in front of people who expect me to get better "because I'm an adult" but don't think it necessary to help me "because it's not their responsibility". I'm ashamed. I'm embarrassed. I'm not ready to go the step that I likely need to take, mostly because I don't want to look weak in front of those people who "told me so" but never stepped in to help. Also partly because I'm afraid that I'll mess it up even more (same fear as the last two times). Partly because I had values and they didn't hold. My faith is in shambles. I don't attend Church anymore. I feel God in close proximity, but I feel my humanity as being a distinctly different creature than "spirit-breathed" more than ever before. I am soil. I am earth. I am a separate thing. I used to be so detached from my body that I didn't feel that. Now I do.

Point is, maybe I don't want to get better right now, maybe I want to enjoy what I have and no longer work on myself. But that means I'll be broke in approximately 10 days or so cuz the finance thing is still a black hole of can't-do. I have savings for one month but I need to restock on clothes and simply...want to want more, too. I would actually like to expand on almost everything in my life right now instead of being barely floating. Anyway. I'm waiting to hear back from an employer rn (heard No from another). Don't really have the guts to apply for more jobs because I would simply be lying to them about my ability. Would promise big things, then quit after three months. It's happened before. Can't do that to them.

Why am I sharing this here, again? Ah well. Gets it out of the system. I don't know how to pray right now. Let's call this a prayer, then.

To be fair, being unpunctual and barely standing on a job are factors that used to be issues that have now been happily solved through the physical recovery! So taking a job might not be as bad as it used to be! However, I'm more worried about my mind at the moment.

If I miiiiight really be hitting rock bottom financially, I guess I'm preemptively asking for some help as well? If things really got super bad, which I would send another notification about, would some people be hypothetically willing to donate when the time comes? I did this once before in 2020 I think, and it was about 50€. This time, it would be about 300€. But it would be a one-time thing. I wouldn't ask for help on here twice. Just a preemptive thought. Don't do anything that is not on your heart. I'm trying to prepare through other means, of course, to avoid the plunge into red numbers. Anywho. Yeah. Not a definitive thing yet. But it might become one. Just saying.

If you read all the way down here, you must really care about me. Thanks A LOT. This has helped to get my thoughts out, and I'm glad to share my general improvements with you. If I used to share my deepest, darkest moments on here, here's to the stony but steady climb up into the sunlight, and cheers to the huge improvements that have already taken place :) Thanks for walking with me!

Love

Reddie

[loverboybrightsideghost]

venting about my week below the read more. tldr; it has sucked shit but also a lot of good came out of it and i'm happy that the fact that i can see anything good out of it means i am slowly coming back after feeling for a while like my me-ness is leeching out of my soul!!!

ANYWAYS ignoring my last post, i've had a SHITTY FUCKING WEEK. SHITTY!!!! SO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO KIND OF SAD!!!!!!!

i can't do everything i used to be able to do. or rather, i shouldn't if i want to stay alive and have a life outside of school and generally have any kind of Wellbeing. that fucking sucks. i hate it. i want to do everything.

i also have to go to like two more doctors now for follow-up-y type shit. there may well be more things wrong with me. joy!

it has been stressful. i may or may not have had a long and weird panic attack (which i can't tell even now if it is still ongoing), and i did not physically or mentally have the capacity to do A LOT of my homework this past week (not to mention the stuff that's overdue from before this even started!).

but i'm letting it go. because i realize, i am a human and for some reason i still treat myself like a work machine, like my only value lies in my hard work. even if i like what i do, EESH! gotta remember that i'm doing what i do partially because it makes me happy but also, if ive chosen it for a career i want it to keep me alive monetarily. and the reason to be alive isn't to work, it's to. be alive. there has to be something else to live for and i've been so deep in school that i've forgotten that all this is that so i can hopefully one day Live off of music and be happy, but not live in music 102763827429 hours of the day.

SO HERE'S A LIST OF GOOD THINGS THAT CAME OUT OF THIS QUITE ANNOYING WEEK!!!

my health being shitty has forced me to finally go to doctors i've put off going to for years. finally doing something about this shit!!!

my friends were very nice and supportive and if i think about it too hard i will sob and snot all over their shoulders. i love them so much.

i drew a little bit.

i learned a little bit of the second movement of my piano quartet yesterday, which was the first real rehearsal we've had in two weeks!

i slept a LOT. i think i will continue sleeping a lot later.

choral concert last night was soooooo good.

i watched howl's moving castle for the first time with two of my favoritest people!!!

the people around me are generally kind :)

i caught up on something that's been overdue for half the semester. yay!

the fact that i am making this list is an EXCELLENT indication that i am slowly getting better and coming back to myself, bc recently i have felt very much like a put-out candle, like my soul was doused, and like I Was Not Myself in the saddest and most darkest horrible way. but i'm slowly coming back!!!

[genstart]

My Name Sake & More(Long)

I'm here and back at it again! Physically I’m not laughing but mentally I am. I’m smiling and happy in this moment of typing too. I’m back on here trying(edit: doing.) again, my name sake. Leaving and starting over and that’s all right. Funnily enough I’m 32 now. In my first post I was 29 and mentioned how my brain thought/kept saying I was 32. Lol my body def knows before me.

I’m still in the same relationship even though in a previous post I thought it wouldn’t work. Multilple times during it, I didn’t think it was going to work out. Yet here I still am trudging through. At times recently I wonder if it will work out but that’s alright. There’s going to be doubt so I’ll try to enjoy the good moments while I can even though it’s really hard to with the kind of person I am.

A lot of stuff happened since my last post and I don’t know how things will turn out but I have faith that it will turn out for there better. I’ve become more religious since my first post thanks to the person I’m with. Not because they are but because I got high with them on an edibles. Hey, I’m a person too. We def don’t do it often since it’s the only thing that works on me and at times it makes me feel like I’m dying. I don’t like that feeling. Other times I have terrible deja vu so it’s not a good trip and on the rare occasion I’m sleepy or really sexual with them so it’s a good trip. So maybe 10 or so times? Either way, I don’t want to or plan to do it any more. Even if I do want to get closer to God while doing it.

I haven't gotten a violin, still working on figuring out my feelings, still working on finding out what I want to do in life, the career I want, and I finally got a therapist. Yay me! I’m also a bit happier and more at peace as well. That only happened in the past 10 months, spaced well out. Not all at once. Feeling happier and more at peace when I became more religious as well. Yet even so, my depression is still there. I’m not magically fixed but I am getting better. From previous post to now, I’m not afraid to apply for jobs any more. Be I’m qualified or not.

(In the DMV area I’m looking for entry level IT and Office Administration that can get me in the door for IT. I was A+ certified but it expired in 2017. Definitely willing to learn.)

Since my first post I have realized starting over isn’t bad even though it seems hard for me to do at times. It’s just a new start and I don’t like endings. Yet the new start has an ending as well and who knows, starting a new journey may not be so hard, or maybe it’s already begun. I’ve just got to be more positive about it. It’s one thing I noticed and realized about myself. I'm not as positive as I like to think I am. So I have to work on that as well and constantly remind myself if I can. So I took steps back but here I am today starting a new journey even if it’s the same one. I ended something so I can get better and be here today. I haven’t given up. Great job 29 year old me for making this blog!!!! YYYEEEAAAHHH~!!!!!! I’M PROUD OF YOU!!!

I think the lecture I was supposed to do was an IT lecture, which I did!!! Just a bunch of IT videos I have to watch. I still haven’t figured out how to balance work, free time, school, and people. Double since I only had a part time when I last posted and quit(it was a toxic work place). It’s def going to be different with a full time job. Yet I’m not too worried. Double since I still stopped doing games in my free time to focus on job hunting, studying, religion, and me.

Like? I love the person I was talking to since I’m in a relationship with them now. It has 100% had its ups and downs. Yet through it and religion, I learned what love is and means. That there’s going to be more bad than good times and I honestly have to get over myself. I didn’t learn what it all means or was thanks to them but through religion. That I seriously have to get over myself in order to love. I can’t properly love someone if I’m always focused on myself and have one foot out of the relationship. It’s hard. Extremely hard. Double since I want to be better and grow. It is not in my self interest to be hurt or anything bad. Yet sadly that comes with being in a relationship and I had to get over it. The same happens in religion, we get over ourselves to do and be better for something else. It’s not easy and we’re not perfect. It applies to a lot of things honestly. Life repeats itself in many ways and forms and religion taught me that as well.

I’m not in an abusive relationship but it is a drain mentally and emotionally. Hurt people hurt people after all. Double if they don’t get over themselves. My partner still carries the hurt and pain from their traumas and so do I. We take it out on each other in different ways and of course it’s not a good thing. Yet no one is perfect and we’re both growing. We’re both afraid as well. We’re afraid of the hurt and pain the other might cause us and that we’ll leave each other. That’s just the tip of the iceberg. Yet with religion, I got over myself and being afraid of being hurt. Don’t get me wrong, it still sucks and hurts at times. Very much so since it’s frustrating and I don’t want to suffer. Yet you know who suffered for out dumb butts? Jesus did. He was killed for us. I am not going through nearly a much as that so why can’t I suffer a bit for the person I love? Life will not always be sunshine and rainbows. Life sucks and we make the best of it. I just have to navigate the bad times, which involves me appreciating the good times. So when I have a good moment, I have to recognize it and not be apologetic for seemingly enjoying it too much. I have to enjoy it as much as I can since tomorrow isn’t promised. It’s not promised, just like good moments aren’t either. Not just with them but life period. Adulthood sucks. Why would I want to work until I can’t. Not everyone can be super rich to where they don’t have to work.

I still don’t have things to really connect with. I get tired of my usual for connection, I want to expand more. Yet I’m not social. My partner is and I love that about them so much. They’re basically everything I’m not/want to be and I love it. I know some people dislike others since they’re what they’re not but I’m the opposite. I think my partner’s on that side of things actually... I should ask...  Yet that’s all for this post. I MIGHT queue something yet we’ll see.

I don’t think I found that cookbook either... Yet my partner can cook so I don’t really need it right now! Their food is so yummy! Good job me. I’m proud of you. You want to cry as you write this and it’s alright to do so. Don’t forget to be nicer to yourself. It’s actually been helpful. I’m proud that you’ve come so far and look forward to seeing how much you’ve grown in later years since typing this. Double since you’re starting to look forward to stuff in your future, a future period, and new things about you. So keep going. - Fri Jun 30 2023

P.S You were in the library while he was at work. I’m proud of you for crying.

[pretty-volatile]

Monday, April 17, 2023 6:49 am

I'm currently I'm feeling pretty bluh. I've noticed that it's been hard to get to sleep mentally, whereas before being so physically exhausted would help me pass out right away. Um obviously I go through times where I'm a little/a lot more focused on a specific mental health facet (?) of myself and well...

First check in is that I've become a lot more acquainted with my autistic self. I think I've noticed fewer meltdowns/shutdowns/burnouts/overstimulation/overwhelm than before. I still 'mask' a lot, but I'm trying to be more myself and therefore being able to better regulate and recognize the things that send me into those moments. So yay. Can't be open with everyone, but those I have been open with are very kind and accommodating.

For ADHD, my partner and I have brought the return of my perpetual lists! All over the place indeed. But so helpful! So necessary! Otherwise shit wouldn't get done. Overall struggles with ADHD haven't been too too much to handle.

For my bipolar, it seems when I try to accommodate my ism I also tend to help keep my mood swings to a minimum. But I still fluctuate, I would just say not as bad as the big dramatic ups and downs that would cycle one after the other. I seem to be getting some more stability in between. Still go through my psychotic phases though, but that's mostly workable. My partner is there for me too especially during those times.

For my eating disorder, um, that's still complicated. I try not to weigh myself and try to wait a long time in between weigh-ins. For a while we were only eating a meal a day only cause I didn't have enough money for more food. This month is a little better so we get to eat more frequently. It's still hard not to listen to what my eating disorder makes me feel when my coworkers constantly talk about their eating/weight issues and just sound like a lot of disordered eating and/or unhealthy body image/relationship with their body. But I just try to take it day by day.

For my (C)PTSD um well of course that's something I'm always going to be battling with. I try to logic my way through my memories and trauma, and when I do feel the pain of the past, it washes over me completely and I get stuck. It's hard to process all by myself, and I feel bad for even the things that I have shared with my partner since I know they have their own trauma to carry.

But what has my attention again is my BPD. Since discovering I struggle with this and learning what I do that hurts people or hurts myself, I've truly made an effort to work on all those things. The black & white thinking, the splitting, the running away, the self-harming, the self-isolating, etc. I've learned that my BPD episodes really correlate with my CPTSD & autism and since I've been working on the others, I've been better at managing my more harmful BPD behaviors/thinking. I still struggle with the idea of self harm, while I haven't cut myself in years now, it's still something I look back on, craving like an addiction, not quite being able to let it go but knowing it's no good for me. This has extended to my other self harm tendencies, not just cutting. I still crave stronger drugs than weed sometimes to escape reality/myself. It's a big feeling to sit with, accept, and let go. I fear I could give in, but I'm lucky to not have access. I would day for the most part I'm sex-repulsed due to all the sexual trauma that I've finally had a chance to sit with and process. Unfortunately that has affected my sexualness with my partner, but it's also brought on a whole new level of intimacy and romance, while also still occasionally doing it *wink*. I still self isolate a lot. Mostly out of a fear of being left, rejected, forgotten, judged, or having any sort of strong attachment to someone that could have the potential to end in heartbreak. My partner is my one true person, my best friend, my soulmate, my love. Everything I could need and more. It just sucks not having friends sometimes, that aren't work buddies. But even friends stop talking to me eventually so... I certainly still deal with my black & white thinking, also thanks to the ism. I try to stop and rethink or opposite action, etc. But it can be hard and my partner often has to call me out on it. Even though my partner is my most stable, comfortable, safe, protective, reassuring love that I have ever had, I unfortunately still deal with projecting my trauma onto them. Of course it doesn't help that if it's something that's happened between us two before, even if not intentional. Trauma response just be like that sometimes *shrug*. My emotions haven't quite been up-down like before, but more of the empty, stress, depression, fatigue, fog, etc. That certainly hasn't been helped by COVID. But the inability to recognize or name my other emotions and having a specific set of emotions that I always pick from to TRY to remotely describe how I feel could also be due to alexithymia. I still have outbursts. I still get petty and cranky and irritable. I still get major secondhand stress from others. But the way I handle those things are a lot better. Even my partner would agree that my BPD has been more manageable, smaller things that we can confront head on rather than the big explosive shit that used to happen. Idk just thinking about whether I still deal with it/how much I deal with my BPD traits. Wondering if I had it to begin but realizing the reason why I don't have to deal with it as much is because I really have put in effort to put more love into myself and my life and my partner, to heal the trauma a little that caused all this. It'll take me my whole life, but it seems to be getting better in some ways.

Anyway I've been up way longer than i should be and now I'm going to go self loathe like i normally do. Ttyl~

[call-sign-shark]

Brummie!! Your comment!! 😩🖤 Also the drop of Bailey’s in the hot chocolate was necessary.

First of all thank you! As everyone already knew what happens during the funeral I decided to focus on feeling and sensory details rather than on action, so that the reader can better imagine themselves. Seems like I’ve reached my goal teehee! In this fire part the Devil hides in the details. For example, you picked up Heaven snuggling against Arthur and that’s an excellent example! It was aimed at displaying a slow reconnection between husband and wife. As it is stated, she does not forget him and he knows he has to win her trust back but she acknowledges that she can’t reject his physical affection. Quite the contrary, she needs it. She needs him. Especially now that she is vulnerable. Now about the loyalty to John: yes. Admittedly, getting close to Heaven is hell (pun intended). Her sympathy with people is very much superficial and devoid of depths but once she loves you, she’d do anything for you and never break your trust! She’ll go full protective! I am also delighted you’ve talked about her not pulling off a Linda because that’s exactly where the difference lies. In truth I liked the idea of Linda being a rebel not afraid of Tommy but the way she behaved with Arthur is so mean. Hev’ would never embarrass him. Like we say in French “on ne lave pas son linge sale en public.”

Tommy tommy Tommy…

I don’t even know myself what he’s playing at, but you’re right: it’s definitely toxic. I think a part of him enjoy that she’s hard to get, that might be why he seeks to instill this game of cat and mouse with her. Your question about him wanting her because of feelings or because she’s not his is striking and interesting… And yet I won’t be able to answer 🤣! When I stared this series Tommy was merely a secondary character aimed at just being a cunt with her because he didn’t trust her (and knew about her criminal record), but the more he appeared, the more their relationship became complex and Tommy asked for more room. So… Wait and see? Their chemistry apart, thank you for your compliment about the predatory description of Tommy! I put my heart in it so thx, babe!!

Yay she’s going to meet Luca teehee! Let’s hope she doesn’t murder him on spot right 👀 Heaven ruining plans as always.

And finally the smut… Aaahhh I’m always so anxious when I write smut in HYE because I don’t want to annoy people even though I always try to put meaning and purpose in it. But knowing you enjoyed the steamy depictions got me blushing 🙃🖤 I couldn’t have write a better description of the two lovebirds myself: “what affects him affects her” — she would never hide something from him nor scje behind his back. The pregnancy doesn’t really count since she’s all lost and confused herself, and knows Arthur’s not in a good mental state to overwhelm him with such news.

Barney is all confused now LMAO! But I thought it could be interesting to see two different opinions about her by total strangers. Anyways sorry for the annoying rambling 😭 thank you so so much love, I don’t even have words strong enough to tell you how I’m grateful for your fantastic comment. 🖤

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Running from your past doesn’t work anymore now that you’ve been directly involved in the Vendetta. Between violence, threats and schemes, you understand that you will only retrieve your peaceful haven with Arthur if you get out of this war with blood under your nails. featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 7.5k

TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, SMUT +18, hint at gunplay, cockwarming, piv, non-protected , obsessive love, extreme co-dependent relationship. They are sincerely deranged, sorry about that. No proofreading, we die like men.

Notes:

✞ This is the last quiet chapter of Act II, shit will start to get real in the next part. Also, the smut is just a part of the chapter, not the entire thing.

✞ This is chapter 14 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

The crackling symphony of burning wood whispered to the stillness, each pop and hiss forming the melody of a sorrowful farewell to John Shelby. Amidst the flickering glow you emerged, your white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around your shoulders to the small of your back. The firelight waltzed upon your features, bringing up the mesmerizing interplay of diamond dust and frost that composed you.

How many more?

The question flashed in your thoughts, leaving a trail of caustic soda that scorched your skull from the inside. How many more of your loved ones should you see burn, their flesh eaten by a voracious fire, until God decided He had enough fun tormenting you? Two faint dimples appeared on your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, the cold winter wind blowing at the black veils of your long and seductive black dress that floated elegantly behind you like the sinister drapes of the Reaper's cloak. In utter silence, Arthur lowkey shifted his focus from the vardo to you with concern and, taking notice of the destructive sparkle in your eyes, pulled you closer. The sensation might have been comforting but your body didn’t answer to his affection, remaining limp and disconnected. To be completely honest, you were feeling so physically and emotionally cold that you would have believed you were made of frost if his coat, which was resting over your shoulders, and his comforting hand, that was on your lower back, weren't there to offer you a bit of warmth.

As the scent of Arthur's reassuring cologne kept you anchored to reality, you finally woke up from your gluey negativity and instinctively nestled against your husband, who placed a discreet and tender kiss on the corner of your lips. The familiar ticking of his facial hairs on your skin sent a wave of comfort through your soul and reminded you that, despite everything that had been going on between the two of you lately, he had been, still was, and will always be your only saving grace. You wondered if, maybe, it was time for you to go back home. Not that his betrayal had been forgotten or forgiven, but you needed him more than ever. For a shit ton of reasons.

“You’re frozen, angel. You sure you wanna stay hm?” He whispered, the tender gravel in his voice clearing your morbid contemplation of the burning vardo, which brought to your mind the sickening memories of your mother and little sister burning at the stake. A long exhale escaped from your fleshy lips as you tried to keep the demons of your past on a leash — and ignore a sudden wave of nausea.

“I’m not going anywhere. If John is burning I might as well freeze.” Your reply was a bit blunter than intended, but Arthur got it. The way you watched the flames climb higher and higher left no doubt about the devastating anger raging inside. They will pay, you silently swore to John, convinced he could hear you from where he was. If bringing him back was out of your abilities, at least you could avenge him by bringing upon every single man who plotted his death a demise worse than death. Just like Thomas Shelby, they would soon know how much pain you could inflict with your tiny and delicate hands, the holiness of your appearance being nothing more than a facade to mask the methodical killer you were. To hell with the promise of not killing again, having blood on your hands seemed to be the price to pay for Arthur and his love. While you lost yourself in the meanders of your thoughts, the cacophonic detonations of gunshots roared in the quiet meadow.

You had barely heard them when, with movements nimble and quick, you pushed Arthur to the ground and stood still to protect him in a reflex you couldn’t fight. The booming sounds might have been loud, they didn’t made you flinch. Quite the contrary, your aquamarine eyes stared at the horizon in search of the slightest threat, just in case the shots fired hadn’t come from the Gold. For a very short while you had been the only one standing, all the Shelby clan on the ground with hands covering their head. Even Tommy, who had schemed the attack, played the safety card and remained covered just the time to make sure the shootings came from their side.

"For fuck's sake, Heaven." Arthur barked at you as he stood up on his long legs, ignoring Tommy in the background who was keeping everyone under his control by yelling. The lanky gangster's hand grabbed your fragile wrist firmly and pulled you closer to him again, steel blue eyes glowing with disapproval at your reckless behavior.

"That was Thomas’ plan right?” You simply replied, your reliable source of information being Aberama and Bonnie themselves -- it was a part of the many perks of living with them in the nearby woods.

“Come on, Angel! A plan ain't going to be always working ay. It could have been the Ital—“ The oldest Shelby brother, with his thick brows furrowed, could not finish his sentence for you hushed him by cupping his face with your freezing little hands. Falling silent, the wolf turned into a lamb as you gently pressed his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.

"Chéri." You started, the pink tip of your tongue moistening your enchanting lips. Each of your movements seemed to bewitch him, to the extent that he almost forgot why he had been that irked, the inferno of his rage instantly cooling down, "I am fine see?” Despite the softness of your voice, he could sense a bit of impatience in your steady tone. Without leaving any time for questions or protests, you laid a small kiss on his cold lips, "We are fine." The melody of your voice was merely a whisper that vanished in the howling wind when your winter lips met his a second time for a deeper kiss. Soft and glossy flesh against rough one. A wild storm of happiness coursed through Arthur at the sensation of this long-awaited mark of affection tingling on his skin, and electrifying his heart. A rapture so strong that the world blurred around him for a moment — he would have probably slipped his tongue in your mouth if the moment wasn't inappropriate. When you pulled back from him, your lips curled in a faint but sincere smile before you squished his scruffy cheeks and released his face from your cold grip. After three years together, it was only at this very moment that Arthur understood that he wasn’t the true guardian and fellow protector of the couple. You were.

Fiercer. Crazier. And certainly far more dangerous.

"Put us out there on purpose... To use John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon!" Aunt Polly's outraged and trembling voice erupted from behind, her words stabbing Tommy like red-hot daggers. If they hurt, he didn’t let it show though. Forced to part from you before his brother and aunt went for each other’s throat, Arthur intervened.

"We were never in any danger, Polly."

"You set a trap. You set a trap with us as fucking bait." She blurted out, standing from her chair and walking to Tommy with steps so furious you were pretty sure she was going to plow into him. Indignation was radiating off her, her dark eyes wishing they had the power to kill. If it had been the case little King Shelby would have been already lying in a pool of his own blood, "Who's dead?!"

After his younger brother had tried to explain to the old harpy that the victims were two Italians, Arthur went on, "We got word to them about the funeral, the where, the when… Told them where to stand for the best shot."

"And Aberama Gold will do the rest." Tommy completed his brother's sentence as if he was an extension of himself — which was the case, you reckoned, when he wasn't busy criticizing you for breathing. From then, the voices only escalated, trying to overcome one another and win the argument by screaming louder than the other until someone eventually gave up. Which was a miracle that would never happen since we were talking about Tommy and Polly. Both of them were two equally stubborn mutts fighting for the same bone and how this argument ended had been predictable: The fierce aunt left, Hell shaking under her heels.

Now was the perfect opportunity to talk.

"Arthur," Your divine voice hailing him, resounding in the meadow like a haunting siren’s song, its unsettling melody sending shivers down Ada's spine. She glanced at you and, for a quick second, the memory of you covered with blood flashed in her mind. Years had passed since you murdered Father’s Hughes accomplice with a pair of scissors but she still couldn't forget what happened back then. She wouldn’t admit it but her trust in you had never been the same from this moment.

Snatched from his thoughts, Arthur turned around, frowning. The family argument had soured his mood.

"Hm?"

"Now I wanna leave." You stated, your seraphic tone as sharp as the razor blades in your man’s cap. This hostility wasn’t aimed at him though, but at Tommy for you had pronounced these four words while glaring at him, indescribable hatred burning in your frozen iris. You might have been aware of the plan, it didn’t mean you agreed with it: the idea of using John’s funeral still infuriated you but your mourning soul hadn’t the strength to fight it. "I'm going home.” Arthur's heart missed a beat, afraid of seeing you disappear again in the depths of the woods. It had been one hell of a harsh week without you and while he — hardly — understood that you needed space, his patience was growing thin, worn out by jealousy and overwhelming dependence. After all, if Aberama was a thief, why wouldn’t he steal his most precious treasure? Or worse, he’s son. Younger, healthier and so much more handsome than him, he thought with gritted teeth and hateful eyes.

"Oh yeah? " Coming closer, Arthur tried his best not to let his murderous jealousy talk and, instead, took a long black key from the pocket of his dark duffle coat "Home ain't with the Gold. Home's—"

"57 Watery Lane. I go there, lock the door and wait for my husband. S'that what you wanted to say?" You suggested, one eyebrow raised and your pale eyes staring at him like two fathomless and cursed jewels. Arthur swallowed nervously, the intense eye contact feeling like an eternity. Besides immediate regrets, the reason for his silence was that he was convinced he messed up again, judging by your sudden cold demeanor. So, afraid you’d lash out at him for his sudden jealousy, all he did was nod and try to keep his composure in front of everyone to pretend he was the one in charge. But you knew him too well not to recognize the sadness in his beautiful but vacant steel-blue eyes. You knew exactly what was going on in his head: he was expecting you to reject him in front of everyone, just like Linda used to do. “Alright” You articulated, and yet your reaction was the strict opposite of what he thought you’d do. Bringing your hand to his, you gave it a gentle squeeze before taking the key, "That’s the home I was talking about, love." You added, your glossy lips curling in a faint but oh-so-reassuring smile that made him swoon with indescribable fascination. Punctuating your sentence with a little wink, you finally turned your heels and left the meadow, your walk as elegant and confident as a fearsome lioness coming back from the hunt.

A predatory and frightful confidence that disappeared as soon as you reached your house. You had barely heard the sound of the door closing when, sick in the stomach, you rushed to the toilets and dropped on your knees to throw up.

"Fuck..." The curse escaped from your trembling lips as you quickly wiped them with a towel, tears beading at the corner of your aquamarine eyes. Polly was right: you did know when to pick your moment. As strong as you were, you had trouble coping with the news of your unexpected pregnancy. So much trouble that you couldn’t rejoice and that lack of enthusiasm only added a layer of guilt to your restless mind. “Fuck!” You snarled, teeth bared. Fuck you, them, all, and everything.

The sound of your platform boots' sharp heels echoed in the sanitized corridors of the hospital as you headed towards Michael's bedroom, your hips elegantly swinging to the rhythm of the silent savage drums of your heart. Tommy had called another lengthy and boring meeting to discuss both the Shelby Company Limited's new installments and the Vendetta, and as well as you dreaded his presence you had to be a part of it now that you were a Shelby. Moreover, the whole mess got even more problematic since Luca Changretta had managed to find a way to break into the Shelby factory and directly talk to his turquoise-eyed opponent for the sole pleasure of seeing a sparkle of panic in his eyes when he threatened to kill the rest of his family.

Surprising as it may sound considering your deep resentment for Tommy's long speeches and the man himself, you arrived pretty early. Not for him, but for Polly Gray. By coming earlier, you knew you'd have a bit of time to talk privately with her about the baby, for she had been the one discovering your secret pregnancy. “Hey Pol’!" You cheered, a wicker basket filled with pastries dangling at your wrist, "I've brought some croissants and éclairs. Thought it could help put up with today's meeting." The bright smile you bore soon vanished from your plumped lips when your winter eyes met with the dark silhouette of your brother-in-law, standing in front of you with his calloused hands in his pockets and his cold gaze staring at your angelic complexions with an unfathomable look. Turning into ice again, your small hand immediately reached for the door handle.

"Stay. We have to talk." He stated, his tone cool and composed. As much as he wanted his sentence not to sound like an order, he ultimately failed. As he talked, all the muscles in your body tense and you felt already irked by his presence.

"Don't." You snarled, your crystalline eyes squinting when they shot him a lethal glare, "Don't fucking come any closer." The sour and threatening expression on your face had been enough to stop Tommy. He was now clenching his perfectly carved jaw. Admittedly, he had never particularly cared about your personal space, invading it on every occasion he could just to push you to your limits and make you feel cornered, but since he had a taste of the ghastly and inhumane gift you had he'd rather be cautious.

"Alright," He said, pinching the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes and moistening his lips in a surprisingly effusive pout. "No need to be that aggressive eh. Please have a sit." He instructed then, indicating a chair with a brief gesture of the hand.

"I ain't gonna sit. Polly tricked me.” You gritted through your teeth, spiteful at the thought of her betrayal. Your voice echoed through the room like sharp shards of frost falling from a winter sky. "You both knew that I didn't want to be left alone in a room with you anymore and still you schemed this twisted little plan." The cadence of your speech, though measured, carried an Arctic chill that made Tommy shiver. Even with the short distance that separated you, he could almost feel the ice you were made of burning his skin through the many layers of his expensive three-piece suit. In fact, you might be calm but Tommy could still feel the rumble of the storm hidden in that soft and enchanting lilt of yours.

"No one tricked you, and yes, indeed, I knew it. That's why Polly will be here with us. She's coming in any minute. Feel better now? Can you fucking sit?" Your only reply was a mocking snort that was quick to stir anger in Tommy's heart despite the placid expression etched on his face. But no matter how fine and cold the marble he was carved from was, you could see the tumultuous current beneath it. Maybe that was one of the main reasons why he hated you: no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to get under his skin and make him falter.

Silent fell in the hospital room, the two of you staring stonily at each other as you both attempted to decipher the opponent's intentions. "Seriously," Tommy was the first to move, coming nearer despite your warning — part of him did it only to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid of you. As he approached, your sharp sense heard the faint sound of his heart beating slightly quicker than usual and his breath struggling to keep quiet. Closer he came, until he stood only inches away from you, the warmth of his body brushing your skin without even touching it, and the musky scents of his cologne ticking your nostrils. " I meant it you know ay. I meant it when I said we have to end this war between us," You remained motionless, eyes staring at him, "Shut the door on it". In the hushed ambiance of the bedroom, he started to move around you with a gait that mirrored the stealthy elegance of a beast navigating its territory. His steps were a silent predatory waltz, a calculated and deliberate one that could have been dizzying if he wasn't walking around you this slowly, "At least temporarily." The air seemed to ripple with a subtle tension as he circled you like a panther, hiding his fear of you behind an aura of primal confidence, "I'm sure we could both benefit from it, ain't that the truth." You slowly exhaled as he talked, realizing you've been holding your breath for a while.

"What about backing off me and shutting your mouth until Polly comes?" You whispered, your aquamarine eyes carefully following every step he took. Admittedly, there was an undeniable magnetism in the way he moved, almost too smoothly and captivating to be human. In a primal reflex, your lips curled and you showed your pearly teeth. Beneath the shared expanse of your untamed wilderness, a silent battle waged within, as his large and strong hand delicately found rest upon your arm. The skin-to-skin contact sent an unpleasant thrill through your body. Tommy was like a big cat facing another one, testing the waters and carefully studying the line he shouldn't cross for you to snap. All in all, it was a contest whose goal was not to be the first to shy away. His fingers ghosted over your arms, trailing down your skin with an unsettling tenderness. Unwilling to cause another scandal or murder him, you gathered all your willpower not to react even when he leaned above you, looking down at your seraphic traits with curiosity gleaming in his turquoise eyes, "How did it feel when we kissed?" His words, like tempestuous whispers, stirred a sudden symphony of panic and indignation within. "Because you've... Felt."

"I did." You finally admitted, tearing through the silence you've been walling yourself in. All the ice melted in a few seconds, and your face relaxed a little bit. Two hopeful details that ignited both Tommy's gaze and ego -- of course you did, he thought.

"Look at me." His voice turned a bit softer as you slowly raised your gaze to his face.

"Do you really need me to say it out loud, Tom?" As you inched dangerously closer to him, he heard the ambient sounds of the crowded hospital fade into a distant murmur

"I do." The drumming of his heart fastened as a faint smile toyed on your lips. The proximity of your mouth, bewitchingly close yet not quite touching, was killing him. Let alone the brush of your skin under his fingertips and the shared warmth of your breaths mingling in the same intimate airspace. How beautiful you would be together. How fierce. How... Unstoppable. That was all he could think of.

"Disgust." It fell from your mouth with the softness of a chainsaw blade cutting through his guts. Tommy's eyes widened, his ego crashing on the ground and shattering like a broken mirror. He didn't react at first, confused by your harsh words, which contrasted with your angelic smile, "I felt disgusted." You tilted your head to the side, your face turning into winter again, "Now you better move from the way if you don’t want me to crush your lungs."

Tommy was about to back off in terror when he saw you moving your fingers in that peculiar way he was too familiar with.

"Sorry for being late." Polly's voice erupted in the room, saving you from spending another minute alone with Tommy. God blessed her.

"Let me help you with that." He finally said, trying his best to keep his composure at the realization that he would never be able to predict you. Never be able to control nor to own you. His fingers closed on the basket’s handle, right above your reddened wrist, and they lifted it to relieve your frail arm from the pain before he quickly stepped away from you.

"Alright, glad to see the two of you didn't butcher each other in my absence. What a wonderful improvement."

"An improvement that is." Tommy replied, pressing his palms against the table now that he had put the basket on its wooden surface.

" I was talking with the doctor about Michael's health. We have a very short time left: he's almost done with him, and both Ada and Lizzie are coming. Heaven, dear, what about Arthur?" Polly inquired, her black eyes meeting yours.

"He's still in his office at the Shelby factory. But I must admit I thought that it would be only you and me." You stated resentfully.

"I know, love and I'm sorry about it but you wouldn't have come if I told you that Tommy was here." Her cold and sly hand gently squeezed your arm in a gentle gesture, so soft and full of motherly love that you couldn't really blame her anymore. Taking a quick look at the clock on the wall, you sighed and took place on a chair just like Polly did.

"Hurry up. Tell me what's about."

"Ain't going to keep you waiting,” Tom started and went straight to the point, motivated by the desire to see you leave this room as soon as possible, “ I want you to meet Luca Changretta."

"Thomas!" You exclaimed.

"No. You listen to me now," The gangster replied, pointing at you with his index finger, "As you know I've encountered him in the meeting room of the Shelby Company factory. We came to an agreement that stipulates that women and children shouldn't be included in the Vendetta. With that, we can guarantee a certain safety for you, Polly, Ada, Finn, and the kids."

"How... Quaint." You stated, pursing your lips in a bratty pout, "And what's the link between your deal and me potentially meeting the man who wants to see my husband dead?"

"Considering this, one of the women of this family can approach him. The idea was that Polly could meet with him and ask him to spare the family, especially Michael. In return, she would lure me into a specific place and at a specific time so that this bastard can set an ambush and kill me." As Tommy explained the original plan, you side-eyed Polly who nodded at each sentence in an attempt to reassure you.

"The problem is Luca knows the strong bond I have with my nephews. Even if I use the role of the mother ready to do everything to save her son, I fear it won't be enough to convince him. But you..." She left her sentence hanging, Tommy's raspy voice completing it. Shelbys, you swore. Sometimes you wondered if they had some telepathic shit going on between them.

"You despise me as much as Luca does but still bore the name Shelby. You'd be perfect." His gaze almost burnt you.

"Makes sense." You replied, fingers playing nervously with your dress' fabric under the table as you swallowed all the information just heard. Against all odds, his idea was impressively clever — Tommy might have a plethora of flaws but stupidity wasn’t one of them.

"Polly will help you arrange a meeting with him in a club. You talk with him, explain how you do this to save your husband, and if he asks more questions proceed with talking about our relationship." Now that they had finished revealing their plan, Tommy and his aunt were both staring at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

"Well, I've heard enough." You simply said, getting up from your chair and making your way to the bedroom's door under the two pairs of confused eyes. Once you reached it, you grabbed the handle and watched them from above your shoulder, an amused but sharp grin dancing on your lips. "When Apocalypse comes, it seems like even Thomas Shelby wants the Devil on his team." You teased, entertained by the situation. No matter his neutral demeanor, he needed you. And that was a satisfying feeling. "That's fine with me." Your quick agreement was certainly not something Tommy and Polly expected, judging by the way they looked at you, and then at each other to make sure they heard well. But as illogical as it seemed, the reasons behind your will to get involved in the Vendetta were a matter of course: You were sick of playing the nice and fragile wife who nervously waited for her husband. You didn't come all the way back to Birmingham to be a quiet and patient little thing. You came to make them all shatter and shake at your fingertips. All you wished was to protect your man and show the world that they better fear Arthur Shelby's wife as much as him if it isn't more.

Polly followed on your heels when you opened the door, grabbing your arm and leading you outside.

"The hell you're doing?" You inquired, surprised by her sudden strength.

"One last thing. I need you to keep Arthur busy and to make him come too late for the meeting." The fierce aunt's grip closed a bit firmer around your wrist, making you wince.

"Why that ay? He has every right to attend it. He's the vice president deputy of that company as well as the oldest brother." If there was one thing Polly expected, it was you defending your husband tooth and nail. And yet she had many tricks in her sleeve.

"We don't want him to pull the trigger anymore. It's time for him to delegate and stay out of the battlefield. We didn't climb the social ladder this high to keep dirtying our hands."

Polly's speech made you blink, astonished one could scheme behind a family member's back. "Hey, that's freaking unfair for Art. You have to discuss the matter with him, it's his job we're talking. Ouch!" You whimpered when she squeezed you harder, her eyes begging you to listen.

"Think about the baby! It will need its father! We don't want him in danger any longer so please, please keep him busy just like we, women, know how to do. It's the modern approach, White Devil."

"Modern approach. Of course.”

"Oh, Angel." Arthur said, his gravel voice underlined with a light surprise when he saw you entering his office. He was putting on his long black coat, ready to leave for the family meeting. As soon as his piercing blue eyes landed on your delicate frame he walked towards you, "Why you here? You alright? " He immediately inquired, his protective nature had grown far bigger since you'd joined him in this cursed city. The soft glow of affection shone in your eyes as you looked at him, your glossy and plump lips greeting him with a bestowed smile so sweet and radiant with love that the hurricane of worries in Arthur's skull hushed down.

"Everything's alright!" You hung your coat on a hook.

"Ain't it good news, ay." He cheered despite being in a hurry, before putting his large and rough hands on your forearms with an adorable bluntness so specific to him and rubbing them to warm your skin up, "Well look, lovely to see you but I'm late for a meeting."

"Just five minutes." You asked, coming closer until your breasts flattened against his chest, "Five teeny-tiny minutes, please?" The way your eyebrows raised and your mouth pouted enlightened your angelic face with an irresistible bratty look that never failed to get him on his knees. Arthur quickly moistened his lips while weighing the pros and cons, but it didn't take long for him to make up his mind. Especially when gazing upon that woman-child face of yours.

"Alright, alright." His raspy voice blurted out. Arthur brought his fingers in your hair to slip one of your long white locks behind your ear with an indescribable tenderness. "Needy little thing already missed her husband eh?" He cooed with amusement, his strict facial traits melting as he talked to you, tamed by your presence.

"I did.” You purred with a quick but oh-so-sincere smile, “But I also need to talk to you. Sit, please?” You suggested, the amusement of your tone brightening up his dull day. Joining motion to speech, you gently pushed him back with your two index fingers pressed on his chest. Arthur followed your movements, a bewitched smirk etched on his mouth. Just like your own reflection, each time you took a step forth he took one back until the back of his knees bumped against the desk chair. Enthralled and with lust-dilated pupils, his eyes spoke a love that transcended words. Arthur’s body finally dropped on the chair, and if he was already focused on nothing else but you, the whole universe faded into utter insignificance when you sat on his lap, straddling him. The contact between your two hips ignited a vivid desire within, which spread through his bones like wildfire and got a satisfied “hum” from him.

“What it is ye want to say?” Arthur asked, the hoarseness of his voice carrying a softness no one suspected him to hide. Despite everything you’ve been through lately, including the indescribable disappointment due to his drug relapse, you had allowed your relationship to slowly heal. You had been crystal clear, now the ball was in his court. Arthur was obviously still on trial, well aware that he needed to outperform himself to gain your precious trust back but at least you came home right after John’s funeral, and that was all that mattered.

A very short but comfortable silence floated over the room at his question, your reply taking the form of your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, massaging his head.

“Are you really in a rush?” Your voice, a delicate dance of enchantment and teasing, wove through the air and left Arthur even more captivated than he already was while you relished on every little adorable of his face — his myriad freckles were surely one of your favorite features of him. Finally, a long exhale escaped from your nostrils. How much you would have loved to stay locked up here with him forever, just you, him, and the baby, far away from this cruel world… “Peu importe ce qui se passe tu sais que je serai toujours à tes côtés, n'est-ce pas?” (translation: No matter what happens you know I'll always stand by your side, don't you?)

"I know." He replied in English. The sensation of your fingertips applying the perfect pressure on his head combined with your haunting French got him definitely wrapped around your finger. The lanky gangster was at the very edge of purring, his eyes half-closed and his piercing and intoxicated iris looking at you through his dark lashes.

As he enjoyed your massage, Arthur made the most of your proximity and let his palms wander on your dainty body, unable to keep them off you. In truth, it was nearly impossible for him not to become all handsy when you were around, no matter the where and the when. His rough hands roamed all over your being, invading every part of you. He was everywhere, softly kneading your small breasts, then trailing down your ribs to finally end his exploration on your hips he seized more firmly, almost bruising them in the process “I must say ya one hell of a cruel witch, love. You come here all hot and bratty.” He cooed, the gravel in his voice rumbling. It was so low, so powerful that it didn’t even sound like a voice but a feeling. His peculiar tone was an inextinguishable fire that enveloped your body, scorched your core, and wrapped your tired mind in a comforting haze. “Makes me feel bad to leave without taking care of ya like a good husband would do, right here on me desk…” You replied with an adorable giggle and Arthur slightly bucked his hips to press himself more against you, just for the sole pleasure of feeling his body colliding with yours. It’s not enough, he thought. It was never enough. There was always too much fabric, too much space, too much of everything between you except when he was buried deep inside of your core, both of you making one as you were meant to be. Another wave of excitement coursed through you, and you had to fight against the irresistible haze he stirred within. Delicate as a feather, you put your two tiny hands on his cheeks and raised his face for your eyes to meet — flaring steel sinking in lethal frost. “But tell me, what's that important hm?”

“First you have to promise me to stay calm. Will you?” You asked, batting your eyelashes like an untamable child about to tell her dad she had just destroyed the expensive family vase. The kind of look that drove Arthur crazy. Sometimes he still found himself astounded by how your face could go from terrifyingly cold to adorably childish. Saying that your words didn’t awaken a bit of worry inside of him would be a lie, but one sole glace at your angelic traits was enough to keep his rage leashed.

“Gonna try me best for ya, hm.” His dark blue irises were enraptured by the movements of your lips each time you spoke — your words were blurring, and his attention was turning into obsession: He missed you. Body, heart, and soul. “Hev…” He sighed in delight as your small hands abandoned his face to strip him from his vest, unbutton his shirt, and then paw at his chest.

“You won’t interrupt?” You mused, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and mouthing against his warm skin. Your thumbs were now tracing circles on his chest, smoothing his hairs. 

“Told ya, angel. Your Arthur will try to be a good boy.”

“Well… I went to the hospital to keep company to Polly. I thought we would discuss trivial things but then she asked me to keep you busy.” You finally admitted, “She and Thomas wanted you to miss today’s meeting.” As painful words melt with the delightful sensations of your caresses, the sky in Arthur’s eyes darkened with black and stormy clouds. His body stiffened under yours.

“What the fuck that’s s’posed to mean?”  He growled, anger already boiling in his veins like a dangerous geyser about to burst. Fortunately enough, your calming presence helped him contain his violent temper — such was your almost supernatural effect on him. Different and yet so similar, Arthur Shelby was made of destructive fire that burnt the people around him as much as him. And yet, his fire never really intended to hurt: quite the contrary, it sought to stay warm and inviting, like a low fire dancing in a hearth. When it blazed out of control, even he couldn't prevent the damage done. You, on the other hand, were made of water. Just like a dangerously cold ocean, you were terrifying, infinite, and relentless, your calm prone to silent but always deadly tempests. “Why the fuck would they do that?!” He cursed louder this time. Feeling your man’s temper wearing thin, you gave a gentle lick on his neck to snatch his attention from his corrosive emotions. Your flat tongue trailed up his sharp jaw to his earlobe — the wet and hot caress on his skin sent thrills of arousal all over him and allowed his mind to focus on something more pleasant than this cruel betrayal.

“Because they want you to stop pulling the trigger.” You explained as quietly as you could, gently rubbing your cheek against his like a cat looking for both affection and attention. It seemed to do the trick: his face was still distorted with latent rage, the thick vein in his temple pumping, but at least he wasn’t turning the office over with his fists nor was he yelling so, overall, it was still a win.  “Modern approach they call it.” You added, using Polly's exact words to the difference that you peppered his lips with small pecs, talking between each pair of smooches to make the pill easier to swallow, “You become a general and Aberama takes care of Changretta… That’s their plan.”  

Breathing loudly through his nose, the gangster pressed his lips together until they formed a very thin line, “Modern approach ay?” Anger coiled like a snake amids the hurricane of his resentment, its hiss echoing through Arthur’s skull.  “They just wanna take me job away.” He stated, more for himself than anyone else, still digesting the news. “And they want to use ya against me? Bloody pricks.” Overpowered by an immense feeling of injustice, Arthur didn’t realize that he was digging his fingers in your thighs a bit more painfully than intended, but his roughness only fanned the flames of your own wickedness. Your skillful fingers explored him, nails brushing his ribs, then palms caressing his slim abs as if seeking to defuse the ticking bomb he was.

“I wanted to tell you everything because nothing in this fucking world will make me stand against you... I may agree with the idea of keeping you safe from harm but not at the expense of your trust.” You confessed,  finally pulling your face from his neck and wrapping him in a relieving hug with your frail arms. If he hadn’t kept his eyes open, he would have sworn that it wasn’t your arms that were surrounding him but two soft and protective feathery wings. His rough hands, which hadn't moved, spread your thighs further to feel your warmth through the thin fabric of your lace thong. Fireworks exploded in you at the hard bulge that was pressing between your legs, making you bite your fleshy lip. Arthur finally let out a long sigh and shook his head, wanting the only thing that could wash away the rage that was eating him up — one of his hands left your flesh only for his fingers to slip between your parted thighs and shift your undergarment to the side.

"C'm'here," He ordered, his breathing increasingly louder and faster.

"Love, you should really go to this meeting." You advised, shivering at the feeling of his long fingers fondling your slit.

"To hell with their meeting, they don't even want me here eh. Need ye right now." With skillful movements, he unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers just enough to free his half-hardened cock and slid it between your sensitive folds, the pleasure and anticipation crashing against you like a rogue wave against the shore. "I feel me bloody mind drift again... And I know I'mma butcher someone if yer lovely lil' cunt doesn't keep me warm." The ghost of a little smirk danced on his lips, mustache lifting on the right side of his mouth when he noticed that his words had the effect he wished for: More of your wetness trickled along his shaft and you had started to grind against him, low key moaning. “I don't fucking know what I'll do without ya..." Without waiting another minute, the gangster lined up with your begging entrance and slowly pushed his swollen tip inside.

"Yes, f-fuck them." You sighed, your nails digging into his back and your legs quivering at the overwhelming feeling of him stretching you. Usually, Arthur wasn't the patient kind and, as it was the case at this very moment, all he wanted to slam his far-too-big cock in you in one forceful thrust to have you whimper and wiggle above him, and yet, he wished to keep it languid for now. It wasn't a rough fuck he wanted, at least for now, but sexual and emotional comfort. The first sweet fantasy that plagued his mind wasn't to cum, but rather to enjoy the blissful and addictive sensation of his thick length opening your throbbing walls inch by inch and filling you entirely.

"There, I know ye can take it all." He gently bumped your cheek with his nose while his smirk turned into a sharp-toothed grin pitching half between the remnant of his anger and satisfaction.

“S’too big…” You stuttered, eyes shut and the telltale of a blush painting across your doll face. With toes curling in your high heels and your arms around his neck, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head as he pushed further. It never seemed to end, and yet it always ended up fitting despite your size difference.

“Bloody Hell, how are ya so tight after years of me ruining ya?" His words were spoken with animal growls — The truth was he had always loved the fact you were too small for him in every sense of the term. Despite the pain, a frail whimper escaped from your mouth, soon accompanied by your legs naturally parting more, instinctively submitting to him and his needs. With a meaner thrust, Arthur had no other choice but to force the way one last time to fill you completely, and when it was finally done, he let out a loud moan at the way your tight walls hugged him. "Shh, shh, that's okay." His strong hands seized your hips stronger to keep you from wiggling and pulling them back in reflex, "A good girl ye are hmm?" You nodded. It was only when his length hit your deepest spot that Arthur stopped, buried inside of you, hard and unmoving, your bodies entirely connected. Another whine escaped from your mouth, a little protesting sound that drove him mad with lust and almost made him forget that his initial desire was just to keep you sitting nice and quiet on his cock. “C’mon love, t’wasnt that hard. Ye should be used to it.” The only reply he got was you rolling your hips to adjust to his size for a comfortable cockwarming session — the most effective thing you had found to tame his wicked tantrums or his adrenaline-fueled passions. The first time had been hell for him, who seemed to be unable not to pound you once he penetrated you — and yet he had learned to love every little thing of it: The intimacy, the constant but manageable pleasure, the cock-drunk and appeased look on your face…

"Missed you, Art'...'" You breathed and hummed, barely rolling your hips but still slightly moving on his cock to enjoy it massaging your velvety walls, "Aren't you angry anymore?" You asked a bit too sheepishly to be true, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Nah, not anymore 'cause yer a nice angel for your husband,” He grabbed your ass firmly, long fingers adorned with cold rings spreading on your cheeks to have a wider grip “Making him find peace between your legs ay?” The stretch had become comfortable by now, and you were both fully enjoying each other, him completely high by your warmth and wetness. “Making him pray God with your holy pussy.” 

“God…” You sighed, throwing your head back, feeling perfectly full — maybe a bit too much even though pain blurred with exquisite ecstasy. “B-But think about it, Arthur. What about letting Aberama do the job? We would stay locked up in the house and do nothing but fuck until the whole Vendetta is over and we go back home?” You suggested, flush burning your porcelain cheeks and giving them a rosy color. The melody of your words — along with how good he felt deep inside of you —snatched a low moan from him. Yet, as much as he yearned for your offer, his conscience needed blood. 

“Got no choice, love.” His two hands left your body shortly to grab each side of your lace dress and take it out, throwing the garment somewhere in his office to have you exposed and vulnerable while he was still fully dressed. Once naked, he cupped your small breasts and started kneading them with blunt caresses that made you squeal: you were already sensitive due to your hidden pregnancy. “John wants me to do it.”

"Fuck!" You cursed when he moved along with you, your hips dancing together and intensifying the burning arousal that was saturating your senses. Soon, splitting you open and having you moaning on his cock wasn't enough anymore. His arms suddenly wrapped you possessively, pulling your two bodies even closer. So close the cold gold of his cross necklace on your skin sent thrills of pleasure down your spine. "He wouldn't want you to risk your life."

“It was me who shot the old man.” Arthur’s mouth, eager to find yours, crashed against your lips in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. One of them rough hands stroked your back in an overwhelming cocktail of caresses and scratches, waltzing on every inch of your skin while the other pinched one of your nipples. A second kiss captured your mouth, his tongue making its way into your parted lips to seek yours, not minding the thin trickle of saliva at the corner of them. “John is dead because of me,” He breathed between two savage kisses, “And I’m gonna make it right.” His voice was merely a low whisper combined with ragged breaths and low, gravelly moans.

"S'that was you want?" You managed to ask, losing your fingers in his hair and your mind in a fog of carnal delight. Forehead pressed against forehead, you reopened your frozen eyes and dived into his, words becoming more and more useless as a tornado of raw emotions and sincerity swirled in the blue of his iris: His need to avenge John was visceral and you understood that his mind wouldn't be able to find rest if he couldn't kill Luca Changretta, hence putting an end to the vicious cycle of vengeance. And you definitely hadn't the heart to deny him this unhealthy yet efficient way of exorcising both his guilt and his baby brother's death. “So be it.” You finally granted, endless love shining in your eyes. After all, if there was something you could understand it was vengeance. Torturing and butchering five men didn’t bring your family back, but the pleasure of watching life slipping away from them had nonetheless helped you put up with that excruciating wound, "But when you’ll kill that bastard put two bullets through his head. One for you, and one for me.” You concluded, shifting your body slightly to take the gun that was on his desk before wrapping his neck with your two arms again. And then the mask of the lamb fell, shattering on the ground and revealing the wolf you were. A wolf that was smiling and moaning, its thumb softly caressing the weapon’s metal.

"I'll do that, little one." A smile beamed on his face as you allowed him to carry on his personal vendetta — or as he felt the sensation of the gun resting against his back, his joy finding a delicious echo in his body. The circular movements of his hips turned into deep and full-length thrusts that had you throwing your head back and chanting his name.

“Mr. Shelby! “

“I’m fookin’ busy!” Arthur’s booming voice roared in the office as he slammed the door right at the man’s face. The access to the room might have been forbidden to him, but the cacophony of savage fucking and the noise of the office’s blinds being shaken left no doubt on what was happening. He finally gave up, well aware that nothing would make his boss come. It was only when he told him that two intruders had been spotted in the factory that Arthur stormed out of the room, disheveled, shirt quickly buttoned u,p and with a hammer in one hand. A bloodbath was coming and since nothing could be done to prevent it, Ben went back to work and tried to ignore the upcoming mess. With a bit of luck, they would manage to put down the rabid beast Arthur Shelby was. Soon after his departure, the white-haired girl left, snuggled up in her white fur coat and walking as elegantly as always, even if she was slightly staggering on her heels after what the gangster did to her.

“Poor girl.” Barney — another worker recently hired — stated, glancing at you as you passed by. “She’s nice. Y’know she brings us treats and pastries sometimes… What a shame that young lady had been forced to elope with this bastard.”

“Poor girl?” Ben replied to his colleague, almost choking. “Forced wedding? You’re really new here, mate. Can’t believe the doll blinded you. Something’s off with her. And forced wedding… All you have to do is pay attention to the way they look at each other and then you’ll understand. And it will frighten you.”

“Ya really talking about sweet lamb Heaven?”

Ben scoffed, “A lamb… When your eyes meet Heaven Shelby’s nobody can’t tell if she wanna braid your hair or eat your heart. Lamb she’s not. Don’t get fooled by the dresses and heels, she’s not playing doll. She only makes violence look better.”

Barney became silent at his friend’s sordid statement, the far away sound of Arthur yelling, bones breaking and agonizing screams resounded in the depths of the factory along with the machines’ roars. Amidst the smells of hot metal, sweat, and paint, lingered the spring-like fragrances of your perfume, which confused him even more.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

So! Melon Shinya has made his big return :D

I’ve been thinking about how much my art has changed and how far I’ve come, and wanted to do a redraw of my original melon Shinya - the link to the original post and the start of melon Shinya, tagged here! - and well.....here they are! :D

My art has definitely changed quite a bit since I’ve started posting on here, but I think I’ve finally developed a style that I’m happy with and can call my own, and that means a lot to me :)

(The drawing on the left is a direct redraw of my original melon Shinya, and the one on the right is basically how I draw him now in my style! Did them both cuz I couldn’t choose and hey- more melon Shinya yay!)

I’ve been a little bit of a burnout recently and these past few weeks have been a really stressful bunch, mental and physical health-wise, which is why I haven’t been on here as much. However, I am feeling a bit better now so yeah :D

Bonus:

Don’t anger the melon Shinya.

(@chiggersmcnuggies @chaotic-trash-can melon Shinya’s back! 👀👀)

(Click on images for better quality - Reblogs very much appreciated <3)

[petri808]

Request by @misplacedgamer for the Grumpy Starter Asks a little wishful thinking maybe 🙃

3. “You’re so annoying. Oh my God– I love you so much.” 

“Don’t I have a say in it?!”

“Nope. After the stunt you pulled, you ain’t allowed out of my sight Deku. Period! End of discussion.” Bakugou points into his own bedroom, “meet your new dorm room.”

Midoriya’s eyes narrow and voice lowers all annoyed. “Kacchan, this is your room.”

“Did I fucking stutter?! It’s now our room cause I’m not letting you out of my sight!”

“Fine, fine,” Midoriya waves his hands nonchalantly and simply staggers into the room.

His friends really pushed him to his limit before dragging him home to UA. So, he was too physically and mentally exhausted to fight anymore. Once they got him back, they fed him, cleaned him up, and addressed any wounds, never once pushing for more information as if they understood he needs time. Maybe he’ll come clean, but for now all he really wants to do is sleep.

And sleep he did— For three day’s straight.

It’s still dark when Midoriya finally wakes up, and he almost forgot where he is, but a light snoring sound close to his ear makes him freeze instantly. Bakugou is sleeping right beside him, with one hand gripping firmly to his shirt. Damn, the hot head really isn’t fooling around. In his heart he understood, for all his bluster Bakugou cares more than he let on. It’s refreshing after all these years to feel it.

But he needs to use the bathroom. According to the alarm clock it’s only 3 am, and he doesn’t want to wake his friend up. ‘Maybe I can sneak…’

“Oi, where you think you goin?” The gruff, sleep-filled voice mumbles.

“B-Bathroom?”

Midoriya feels the grip on his shirt loosen. Oh, good he’s gonna make this easy! So, he slips off the bed, puts on house slippers and trudges off to the bathroom… with shuffling footsteps behind him. Oh, my Kami!

“Seriously, Kacchan,” Midoriya whines. “I’m just going to piss.” It’s too damn early in the morning for an argument. His eyes are still crusty and sleep deprived to even focus.

“And I told you, not out of my sight!”

Midoriya sighs and says no more, just goes and does his business. Thankfully, Bakugou doesn’t literally watch as he takes a piss, and just waited outside, then they went back to the room without another word. Some might think it would feel weird to sleep in the same bed, but that’s the least of Midoriya’s problems. Sharing a bed is something they’ve done as kids, so it isn’t uncomfortable anymore, even though they’re older now.

Day… after day… after day it drones on with Bakugou watching Midoriya like a hawk and giving him very little privacy. The only reason he’s stuck there is because everyone feels it’s smarter to be tactful against AFO considering the villain is already steps ahead, and he agrees for once. But even after promising not to run off again, Bakugou refuses to believe him. Every time Midoriya complains, the man simply responds, ‘too bad,’ he’s brought it on himself. They get up at the same time, and go to bed at the same time. Where one is, the other is within view. All their friends think it’s cute or amusing, and at first Midoriya put up with it because he knew arguing with Bakugou won’t change anything. But it is getting so irritating!

Midoriya finally pulls Bakugou to the side after a work out one afternoon. It’s just them, no audience, so he hopes they can come to a better agreement. “There’s gonna come a day when we leave UA to fight where you’ll have to trust me.”

Bakugou puts a hand on his hip. “And? I’ll trust you.”

“Kacchan,” he groans, “I’ve been home for two weeks and you still stand outside of the bathroom.”

“So?”

“So, why are you still attached to my hip?!”

Bakugou shrugs. “Because, reasons.”

“Reasons?! What reasons?!” Midoriya’s irritation is peaking. His friend is not acting normal. Why isn’t Bakugou yelling back or getting irritated with the questions?!

“Look,” Bakugou sighs, “I don’t think you’ll run away without telling us anymore, but that doesn’t mean you won’t try to sacrifice yourself again. So,” he glares, “just get used to me being right next to you… Always.”

Midoriya palmed his face in frustration and growls. “Kacchan this is getting ridiculous. I understand your fear, really, I do, but that’s not a valid reason.”

“Tch. Who said that’s my only reasons. I haven’t told you what they are.”

“Then what are they!” Midoriya’s hand’s gesture wildly. “I wanna understand!”

Bakugou grins. “One day you’ll figure it out yourself.”

That is it!! “KACCHAN!” Midoriya rages exasperatedly. He’s at his wits end after enduring the relentless hovering! “You’re so annoying! Oh my God– I love you so much, but I can’t take it anymore!”

The hot-head’s grin widens. “I love you too, but you’re just as annoying.”

“I’M NOT AS— wait, WHAT?!” Midoriya’s eyes flare wide and his face lights up like a bad sunburn. “I never said— oh—shit, did I say that out loud?!”

“Yup—” Bakugou accentuates the p sound.

Midoriya’s brain malfunctions as it struggles to piece it all together. His best friend just admitted he loves him, he just admitted he loves his best friend! Yet, Bakugou is acting so nonchalant about it. “I, um, but— y-you… is that why… oh… and the hovering?”

“Yup—” he again popped the p.

“So, the bed, and you—” Midoriya’s eyes glaringly narrow. “You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” Bakugou shrugs. “It’s a perk.”

“KACCHAN! You’re messing with me, aren’t you?! It’s not funny!”

“Oh, I meant it. When have I ever lied to you Deku?”

Midoriya’s throat dries up, that’s true. Bakugou is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. “Oh… wow…”

“If you’re done freaking out, I’d like to take a shower.”

“W-with me?!”

“What? No! Idiot! I’m all sweaty, so I need a shower.”

“Oh! R-Right! Yeah, okay, I’m okay, we can go.”

“Finally!” Bakugou picks up his gym bag and starts to leave, so Midoriya rushes to do the same.

Midoriya approaches sheepishly to parallel his partners stride. “Hey, Kacchan?”

“What?”

“Do I… get a kiss now?”

After a brief pause, Bakugou answers. “Maybe after the shower.”

Midoriya’s face softens in a quiet excitement, whispering a happy, “yay,” to himself. He gets to kiss his crush! Maybe the hovering isn’t so bad after all…

[giantkillerjack]

Lonely. I hate being lonely. It is one of the saddest feelings in the world and there is so much shame attached to it. But I live in America in 2022, and lonely is the status quo for many of us.

I don't know anyone in this city except my partner, and we spent the entire last year since we moved here just barely surviving, which combined with a pandemic has put a damper on seeking out new friends.

(I am lucky in love because she is kind and good and adores me, and I adore her. Even when at her sickest, she was using the very last of her strength to be kind to me.)

But she and I both know people are supposed to interact with more than one other human on a regular basis.

I talk often with friends and family on the phone and it is probably the reason I am still relatively sane and I treasure those relationships. But fuck, I haven't heard a friend's voice in-person in months. I have a back porch and no buddies to sit on it with! I am hard-of-hearing and I want to hear someone in the fucking room with me and not over shitty cell phone connection!!! I wanna share a joint! Come on!!!!

I wish my girl and I hadn't been... well not forced but pushed, I guess - Pushed out of our home and our city. We ran out of money because we got too sick. And we had to move to a place where we had to go through the very worst of my girl's illness all alone because this is where we can afford to not stress about money.

And I am so angry at so many people and so many systems because it didn't have to BE this way. For so many reasons, it didn't have to be like this. Besides the obvious society-wide issues, my family and her family each had more than enough money to ensure we wouldn't have to move, but that wasn't an option and her illness wasn't viewed as the kind of thing that might be affected by a cross-country move away from all of our friends.

And now, since a huge turning point about a month ago, my girl is no longer a-knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door and it is AMAZING how fast she is improving in such a short time.

But I have enough hard-earned XP in trauma management to recognize that odd, creeping bittersweet feeling of finally being out of a horrifying situation (my wife slowly dying over the course of years) - of being out and realizing just how bad it was. Just how close you came. And there is this strange relief, joy. You are no longer being actively traumatized, yay! But also you now get to deal with the trauma! (Or you don't and you either get sicker, become Batman, or both. And hardly anyone becomes Batman.)

So I survived. Again. I'm good at that. I'm way harder to kill than I ever thought I was. Even if the world is more painful and deadly than I could have ever imagined. (It doesn't have to be this way.)

I'm smart and strong and sharp and skilled and soft all at once and between you me and anyone who will hear, I did amazing this year. I kept hope alive the entire time, and I kept the both of us alive too, and I even got better at art while doing it. I didn't relapse into self-harm, I studied my passion even as my disability got worse, and I saved someone's fucking life by being the one person they could trust to be there because we had been physically separated from our support group, and it was fucking grueling. We have been alone for more than a full year. And it wasn't just someone's life I saved. It was my someone.

And so I am proud of myself. (Even that is a sign of growth. 5 years ago, I could've cured cancer and still felt I was falling behind.)

I did amazing and so did my girl, but because my partner's illness was mental and not physical, half the people in my life can never understand what has happened to us here. I am aggressively proud of myself because I have to be. A lot of other people in my life don't seem to be able to see what we have accomplished here.

Terribly lonely feeling, that one. The idea that some people you love will never be able to grasp the most basic truths of your existence. Won't be able to see the thing you are most proud of in this world.

Even my sisters. Which is unthinkable to me. I don't know how long I will have to work to get them to understand that they weren't here when I needed them, and I'm furious.

And fury is just spicy grief. Or - if you wanted to not sound like Jason Mendoza from the Good Place - grief is the true name of fury. But I like Jason. And so I got like, mad tobasco-sauce type grief that makes me want to scream and breathe fire and cry and throw glass and bite things all at once.

It's just. I'm proud of how hard we worked. But we shouldn't have had to do it. The resources and people were there to make that difference, and I couldn't access them. And I was still luckier than 90% of other disabled Americans, and that was a direct result of mine and my partner's privilege.

Anyway, I still don't know anyone in this stupid fucking city and I am crippled and cranky and extremely sexy and it is 3am. I know I'm not going to be lonely forever. I will make sure of it. But right now... Right now, I am lonely.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it’s a fucking metaphor!

Titans 3.08

i’ve finally gathered the mental and emotional resources to do this thing, so let’s go! as always, i’m typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. on watching this opening scene, i was thinking back to how gar was in s1, or even the early bits of s2. the way he idolised the others, particularly dick, and his readiness to go along with whatever they said, and the way he practically bled the need for acceptance. and here he is now, openly defying dick, fully open to and aware of the flaws of the people he loves and admires, knowing he is accepted no matter what and extending that generosity elsewhere. it’s a remarkable bit of character growth that’s... sort of blossomed in the background and so rewarding to see and acknowledge. 

1.25. i guess what i really love about this conflict over how to respond to jason--as clumsily as it is sometimes written--is how their histories and individual traumas inform each character’s reaction. dick is torn between his guilt over what’s become of jason and his drive to do what batman had essentially given up on doing: he is motivated to track down red hood at all costs but there’s a sense that he’s not completely sold on the idea that the only way to stop him is to kill him. (he might go the comics route and try to put him in arkham? god, imagine if the season ended with jason in arkham.) kory’s never had much of a connection with jason in the first place, and jason has done one of the worst things he could do in her book: track and kill a member of her newfound family and is threatening to kill more. 

and gar... sure. look. the idea of jason and red hood as separate entities appeals to him; that red hood emerged when jason was drugged to the gills by scarecrow and lost his usual inhibitions. gar’s struggled with what he becomes when he’s pushed to his limits, too--he did rip open that experimenting scientist with his teeth way back in 1.07, after all, and he was brainwashed by cadmus in s2 into becoming a literal monster. he needs to think, to know, there’s a dichotomy, a line that can only be crossed under extreme duress or by outside influence. 

and he says--and we say--that he was accepted back into the titans in spite of what he’d done, but was he really? gar’s always struggled with his footing in this group; relegated to the caretaker, the tech guy, the gatekeeper, and sometimes punching bag even though everybody’s paying lip service to how much of a family they all are. perhaps gar reaching out to jason and offering acceptance is aspirational on his part: perhaps this is the effort he hoped the titans put/or will put into getting gar back, even when it would seem like he’s too far gone.

1.5. anyway my point is that i don’t think it’s worth discussing this in terms of right/wrong decisions because all of their reactions make a lot of sense given their backgrounds/personalities. gar is doing a fine job here of tracking down jason’s friends and trying to find him that way, but we the audience know that jason is ultimately going to end up an anti-hero/eventually-hero character, so with that knowledge in mind we know that gar’s reaction is the right one. it’s knowledge that the other characters don’t have, so to judge them on it is... uh, unfair.

1.8. also, molly is awesome, yay!

2. dick and barbara flirting over the phone is so cute! i love to see this side of dick: lighter, peppier, willing (even if somewhat reluctantly) to put his mission aside to go out on a date with his girlfriend. and i love how easy this makes his dynamic with kory too: it’s all very domestic and utterly delightful. 

(also, re: the water leak in barbara’s office--you’re saying GCPD could afford fancy-schmancy table-wide touch screen computers and evil-lair lighting but needs its frickin’ commissioner to catch leaking water from above her desk with mugs and fishbowls????)

2.2225. this is probably a teeny tiny thing and i’m not sure i want to bring it up at all BUT. the fact that dick feels compelled to lie to barbara about not liking fancy gala food and eating something more substantial before the date? not a terribly great sign, though i wouldn’t call it a red flag per se. 

“this from a man who forced his students to eat cauliflower crust pizza...”

3. so.... conner and kom are a Thing. huh.

in theory i really like the idea of them bonding over an innate alien-ness and longing for a place they could really belong. both of them are alien twice-over: conner a mix of kryptonian and human, practically generated in a test tube, and kom being somebody that was born different and rejected by her own people, now stuck on a planet dominated by an entirely different species. i even like them exploring this bond physically. i guess it’s the sense of... uneasiness around what we do and don’t know about kom that makes this scene land slightly left of centre to me. i think titans, especially through s2, has cultivated in its audience a sense of distrust even until the final episode, just in case somebody vital to the season is suddenly revealed to have had ulterior motives (i’m even low-key suspicious of leslie). i really want to see this kom-conner dynamic play out but the anticipation of watching the other shoe drop is sucking out the enjoyment.

4. for fuck’s sake dick, gar’s not your gatekeeper.

TIIIIIIIIMMMMM \O/

4.5. i love this nod to tim’s origins in the comics, the way he just comes in and lays out all his evidence and makes it clear to dick that he needs tim’s help as robin. the fact that he was there at the flying graysons’ last performance, he was obsessed with their acrobatic moves, and was observant enough to connect those moves with that of robin and later nightwing... all of this came together to put him where he is right now.

(i also love how he can’t contain his giddy excitement when talking about the day dick grayson’s parents died... to dick grayson. even if dick weren’t nightwing, that would be a deeply uncomfortable thing! yet tim can’t help himself, and i love him for it.)

4.8. it’s a testament to how much dick’s caught off-guard that he can’t come up with a better response to tim’s allegations other than “uh... he stole my moves! as you know, no two gymnasts in the world are allowed to do the same moves. now, let me escort you out while pretending poorly that i’m not at all shaken by this...”

4.9. i’ve talked about this before, but i find the logic around secret identities in this universe utterly fascinating. the titans don’t make much effort in keeping their identities secret: everybody seems to know that kory is starfire for instance, or that gar is beast boy. dick grayson is seen hanging out with kory a lot, especially at crime scenes. it won’t take a lot of sleuthing to find out that the titans are currently camped out at wayne manor, and to put two and two together.

my theory was that superheroes and villains have become such an integral part of daily society that it’s almost not worth it to seek out their secret identities, or that it’s just not a big deal anymore. like politicians or diplomats, not everybody bothers to look into who exactly their local politician is, but the people who know just... know. it’s a sort of unspoken social contract.

tim’s broken this contract by confronting dick about his identity, and dick’s not ready to deal with it. not entirely.

look at him! *pinches his cheeks*

5. ngl, it was quite satisfying to see jason knock the scarecrow out like that. 

5.5. i guess... the question of jason’s culpability is always going to be a thorny one and would make for a great courtroom drama spinoff. there are a number of factors to consider: jason’s personality, the rough circumstances under which he grew up, his undoubtedly stressful transition to being robin, bruce wayne being... well, bruce wayne, never feeling accepted by the titans and having most of them turn on him, being roundly defeated and almost killed by deathstroke, alfred’s death, a fuckload of ptsd, his violent death, crane’s manipulations, coming back to life, crane plying him with a drug. but there is no easy line to draw between any of these factors to his actions. i think it would be a disservice to jason’s character to attribute his actions entirely to these things and rather irresponsible to do so. i think jason has to reckon with the fact that when he took crane’s drug, he wasn’t reckless and chaotic like the thugs he gave it to; the planning that went into hank’s death was meticulous and the way hank died--dawn essentially tricked into pulling the trigger that blew her lover into bits--is so drawn out and cruel. 

5.75. it’s occurring to me that crane might have given jason a placebo. maybe jason’s dependence is psychological, and he’s externalised his fears in such a way that he believes crane’s drugs literally wipe them out, however temporarily.

in any case, the boy needs (more) therapy.

6. “he walked like robin...” fuck, tim

“gait recognition sweep” god, this show. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry. hey, once we’re done doing this gait recognition thingy, can we get a goddamn plumber in the house??? or move the commissioner’s desk so that sewage water isn’t dripping on her head or the million dollar touchscreen desk???????

6.5. oh no dick!!!!!! i am delighted that you got hurt but i feel ashamed about it! that looked like it really hurt!

he’s really not having a good time of it, is he. from being shot by a sniper to slamming at full speed into an suv, he’s got to be really fucking battered by now. and that’s just the physical side of it.

“can you believe that just over a week ago i was sitting in san francisco eating cauliflower crust pizza and feeling good about myself for the first time in five years...”

7. kory’s having visions again! now that she’s figured what they are, do you think the show’s just dropped justin? it’s curious that HPG hasn’t been brought up in a while after featuring relatively heavily in the beginning. hmmm.

8. dick’s in hospital but... he looks remarkably whole for someone who took a spill like that. you’d think he’d at least have a bruise to show for it. on the other hand, i love that the first thing he says is ‘i need to call home’. reminds me of season 1 dick and his clumsy attempts to explain away his found family as an ‘alliance of necessity’ or some bullshit. what a long way he’s come!

*gasp* dick’s hallucinating again!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m doing the dick’s hallucinating dance! can you believe that we’re carrying over these huge honking issues unearthed in season 2 onto season 3? can you believe?!!! all that time and effort i spent talking about dick’s mental health from last season has not gone in vain!!

... ahem. anyway. more on this later.

“hold on barbara, i think kory gave me the number to this therapist that she kept calling Hot Psychiatrist Guy...”

9. just an interlude to say that i’m barely halfway through the episode and i’ve already written 2k+ words... ugh. i’m going to try and be more concise.

10. man i fuckin love it when titans goes all out with its weird mindscapes and i’m extra glad that kory’s the focus this time. is that baby kom or maybe a secret sibling that neither of them knew about? was that lady luand’r? and is this place where kory was circling where the secret sibling is? it’s all very intriguing. 

(if justin turned out to be that sibling... we’ve a real luke/leia situation on our hands.)

11. aw, i knew that nice security guard was going to die, but it still hurt to see him go :(

12. this show is so bizarre. like i get the mindscape as a narrative device, but jason using sex workers to try and vocalise his guilt about killing hank was just weird. like. i have to use tamil, sorry: idhulaan yaaru pa room pottu yosikara??? some things just can’t be translated into a second language.

i guess one way to interpret jason’s reckoning with what he did to the titans as a sign of him coming off crane’s drug, but i think it’s more to do with the disillusionment of realising that he was a mere pawn in a more sinister plan, and not, as he thought, a player in control of his destiny, rising to the purpose of liberating gotham of its fears in a way batman never could. along the way, he’s done some truly irreversible damage. it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

13. another hallucination! it’s really intriguing that it’s a young dick(?), younger than we’ve ever seen him, wearing an early-era robin costume from way before he even became robin. (this is also interesting in that it gives credence to the idea that ‘robin’ is an identity that dick created entirely on his own, and as a possible homage to his family.)

“old road, old house... it’s all gone.” i wonder what it all means.

13.5. it’s entirely likely dick’s hallucinating because of a brain injury from the accident, though just hallucinations without any other focal neurological deficit is unusual. he might’ve been microdosed with fear toxin at some point, though i wonder when... did jason do so after dick’s accident? did he get dosed at the factory from last episode? 

it’s also possible it’s a continuing manifestation of dick’s issues from last season--which, if you remember, he never told anyone about and therefore never properly addressed. maybe he was hallucinating bruce wayne in a psychotic episode accompanying an acute stress reaction and maybe that’s what’s happening now. nobody’s denying that he’s under an extraordinary amount of stress right now. another way to look at it is that this is how he externalises conflict that he can’t bear to suppress anymore; if in s2 halluci!bruce manifested his insecurities and self-loathing, then these hallucinations... something to do with his fears, no doubt.

yet ANOTHER way to look at it might be: rachel is reaching out to him through their, well, psychic bond. after all, they were able to use that bond unconsciously last season to get the titans back together; maybe rachel has learned to gain a degree of control over it in themyscira and is sending across warnings? it’s all very intriguing.

anyway:

“i hear you skipped over the discowing suit in your evolution to nightwing... how could you??”

14. can you imagine, gar did all the work of reaching out to jason via molly and jason wants to meet dick? smh.

14.5. “i’m just a regular guy doing regular things” he says, standing at the opening of a secret old tunnel, like a secret person doing secret things, confronting someone who can now officially be called his stalker. neither of you guys are ‘regular’

14.8. ‘my dad was a cop and he taught me how to investigate’ - hmmm. i guess they’re trying to Explain Tim but i don’t think that’s really necessary. so he’s smart and he’s obsessed with batman and robin--that should be enough, imo. 

15. that scene with scarecrow and his mother was... wow. i’m just laughing here helplessly, because what the hell? for a while i thought it was an extended dream sequence and i’m still not entirely sure that it isn’t...

anyway. i still love that titans is happy to throw out its plot in favour of extended character-exploration sessions.

15.5. it seems to me that this scene with crane and his mother (i have no idea if there’s anything in the comics similar to this) serves to move forward this season’s theme of harmful legacies and how parents can damage their children in the name of their mission. in a way it’s been the underlying message of the entire show but we’re really seeing it being reinforced this season. the titans, serving as a foil to scarecrow, are using the damage to rebuild themselves and actually work through their issues together, instead of spiralling further and further into the morass of their issues.

other than that... god, that scene was painful to watch. i can’t say i like this version of scarecrow or how this actor plays him at all.

16. i wonder what’s jason’s play here. i think he’s smart enough to realise that the titans aren’t going to just forgive him and let him be a titan again after what he did, and that dick agreeing to it is just a bid to pin both him and crane down. maybe it’s a ploy to trap them, get back on scarecrow’s good books so that he can have the drug again. who knows.

17. i absolutely felt dick when he said “we’ll bring him in and then re-assess the situation.” what the fuck else is he going to say? the priority is to get him.

so kory and dick are both hallucinating while potentially trying to rehabilitate their murderous siblings. CONFIDE IN EACH OTHER ALREADY

18. TIM NOOOO! you beautiful, reckless fool!

18.25. just to quickly address it here because i know it’s been brought up before: i think it’s perfectly justified to not have conner take tim to the hospital via superspeed because a) i don’t think we’ve seen conner do that with anybody so far and b) it’s probably not a good idea to submit tim’s body to that kind of stress without knowing what it would do to him. the paramedics with actual equipment and experience would be there in a few minutes, so on a risk assessment, i would say dick and conner absolutely made the right call.

18.5. i guess we won’t know what jason really intended to when the titans came to the pump to see him, but this is definitely going to set a big wedge in his relationship with crane. then again, crane got what he wanted--using starfire’s powers to blast through to the underground pipes--so jason can argue that this is exactly what he was working towards, too. 

anyway, mortal peril, hallucinations, murderous family members, creepy visions and robins sprouting left and right. time to get rachel and donna on the scene, i think.

[sajiri]

Art Update and Reflections

Hey everyone, I’d like to do some personal talk and reflections on this blog.

I came to tumblr a few years ago from deviantart, since deviantart was being overtaken by things I was not comfortable with, as well as the way that if you took a break so people didnt directly visit your page for a while, you were essentially filtered out of their watch lists. The original intent was to post my art here.

Somewhere along the way it became a general blog of reblogs, memes, games, and occasionally I might post some art. You may have seen me post about my health issues on here before, but I am a schizophrenic with a dissociative personality disorder and PTSD. I’ve also had some physical issues that come from untreated injuries in my youth that affect my day to day life, including artwork. Sometimes, I’m in too much physical pain to draw, and I have to take days or weeks off. I am actually doing much better these days thanks to a combination of therapy (physical and mental), medication and lifestyle changes. Yay!

So what’s the point of this post? I had said I would reopen commissions once I had finished my last personal piece. Well, I’m putting them on hold indefinitely for the time being. In the past, I’ve accepted more commissions than I could really handle, giving me no time for personal stuff. If you look through my art tag, you might notice my styles have changed a lot, and I feel like sometimes I get better or worse. Even after all these years, I’m still learning, Im still finding ‘my’ style. There’s a lot of things I’d like to practice and try, and in the past I’ve used commissions to try out new things and they havent always turned out so great. In these cases I’ve often given discounts or free art in compensation, but really, I shouldnt be doing that. So I’d like to just focus on my art for a while, practice and experiment, get to a place I’m happy with before I start accepting payment from people again.

I’m still working the same hours for my day job, but the days I worked have changed so I work them all at once now and then have 4 days off before going back. Honestly, this will improve my motivation to work on art I feel like, since every day I have off I wont be thinking about having to go back to work the next day.

Also, I’d like to re-share an old image.

You may have seen me posting the full body images of these girls with not much information other than a ‘magical girl’ tag. Well, these girls are from a story I’ve had churning in my head for years. I have been thinking about trying to start an online comic, so even though they are original characters, and my non fandom stuff gets next to no attention, I may start finally moving this story from my head to my tablet! Expect more art of these girls over the coming months...unless I lose my nerve again since I have some serious self confidence issues lol

[finsterhund]

Got to go to a little fair that set up and I was so excited because I've been a good boy for two years and I finally get to go on amusement park rides after being such a good boy for two years. Roommate sprung it on me randomly. I barely knew it was in town and we were supposedly going out to get something to eat and to stock up on iced tea (which I didn’t get a chance to do now oops :( but yay amusement park) Admittedly it would have been better in the long run if it wouldn’t have been a last minute thing but I do like fun surprises.

Only after roommate got me to buy a sheet of tickets did he realize we should have gotten day passes which was oof but it was with physical money I had stocked up so not the end of the world. I am used to that by now and he got the daypasses after. 

I was so excited to go to an amusement park again that I forgot that I have not been to one in a while and as such my "limits" may have changed. I do not know how many of you who currently follow me are aware of the escapades of riding the West Edmonton Mall's spaceshot nearly a hundred times consecutively only to go on the teacup ass tiltawhirl thing and THAT was what made me projectile vomit everywhere. It's something I'm proud of (the spaceshot part, not the vomiting on a baby ride) but it happened a while ago so I'm not sure how frequently I've spoken about it.

Needless to say today I went on all of the rides including one that's a loop called Fireball which is the best and one called the zipper which was genuinely a bit frightening and I was perfectly fine until, and can you guess?

Yeah it was straight up called the tilt a whirl too. 

All over my shorts and my shoe while I was still IN THE RIDE AND IT KEPT GOING 😂😂😂😂😂

I didn't get to ride the space shot ass ride in the end because of the damn tilty fake teacup pink and blue monstrosity (if it's the same fucking ride upon googling it I am gonna lose it)

The thing is I went on all the exciting rides before eating but the damn spiny cups are hell and I should absolutely have anticipated this would happen.

I will say though I'm better at not choking on my own vomit now. It used to fill my nose and feel absolutely horrid when I was a wee boy but now it just gets all over my legs because I couldn't aim it because of the damn spiny ride.

So technically I have not eaten today. 

But I was so happy to get to go to another amusement park again. I love them so much it’s unreal and they do wonders for my mental health because rides give my fight or flight something real and tangible to focus on so afterwards my PTSD is so much more manageable I practically feel normal lol.

I love fun scary fake danger fake death fake suffering so much fun yay.

I should be stressed about how I have no food or iced tea because roommate won’t go back out so I can get some we went straight home after the vomit incident but fun scary fake danger makes me feel happy.

The feeling of being helplessly ripped around by a massive death trap of hydraulics and metal is unparalleled. The government should give me amusement park allowance as part of my therapy (half joking but could you imagine???)

I wish I knew the science of how and why I can ride a hundred exciting rides one after the other but then the second I go on a fucking spinning cup style ride I throw up everywhere. Is it just my body giving up? The adrenaline running out? I have no idea. Not to fully detract from a positive fun post but growing up experiencing child abuse when I was in elementary school it was common for me to cry myself into throwing up and I’m wondering if it was just my weak little body finally giving out and losing muscle control or something else akin to that. No idea but it’s funny to me now when it happens because of roller coasters and shit.

[luninosity]

Okay, so, some Falcon and the Winter Soldier thoughts (will have some spoilers) for episodes two and three. General non-spoilery comment first: I feel like these were both *okay* episodes - neither as good as the first, but I didn’t dislike them, either. I’m still really curious to see how we’re going to wrap this all up in three more episodes; it doesn’t feel like we’re halfway done yet!

Okay, more spoiler-y notes below the Read More, not in any real order, just as I think and type. I’ll probably forget some things, but for now, here’re some thoughts...

--I like ep 3 slightly more than ep 2, mostly because of Zemo!

--I actually really love Zemo here (I liked him in Civil War, too): complex, sardonic, enjoying poking at people, a villain we do feel sympathy for even as he’s still sharp enough to remind us that he is a villain. Daniel Bruhl has always done a fantastic job flipping between calculated cruelty, wry humor - the whole “I am a Baron” moment was great - and pain that for him is still raw, about the loss of his family. (Some things’re awfully cliche - look, the supervillain’s playing chess and reading Machiavelli in his cell? really? - but, y’know...sure. Why not. We expect some cliches in the superhero genre, and this is an inoffensive one.)

--also Zemo dancing. That’s it. That’s everything.

--moving on from that: I’m also really liking how they’re writing John Walker. He does have charm, and there’s a certain amount of sympathy - especially as we see him worrying about filling the Captain America shoes, in ep 2 - but we’re also getting this really subtle sense of wrongness about him. He’s clearly vindictive and angry when things (and people) don’t act according to his mental script for them, and he’s willing to use his name and power to do things like get Bucky released...which in context and given our sympathies for Bucky is a good thing, but...it’s also an indicator of his willingness to do what he wants, because he can. (To be fair, Steve Rogers also often did that! - but Steve earned our trust, both in narrative and character. From his first introduction to WWII leadership experience to all the Avengers stuff, Steve consistently acts to protect people, and he’ll also listen if someone else has a good idea or if someone needs to talk, like with Wanda.) So I’m really liking this slow-fuse character development.

--mixed feelings about Sharon. I love that the show’s acknowledging how much she sacrificed for our main heroes, with no reward. On the other hand, she also clearly knew the consequences that could happen; she said as much at the time. The level of bitterness seems like a lot. But I’m also interested in everything we still don’t know about her - if she’s not the Power Broker herself, she’s obviously Up To Something. So that should be fun.

--hey, look at that X-Men location, with Majipoor! Also a nod to Wolverine’s favorite bar there, I think?

--I love heist and disguise plots!

--I also really like Bucky’s having to revert to the Winter Soldier - Sebastian Stan does it so brilliantly, with so many layers of emotion: not wanting to, loathing it, recognizing the necessity, shutting off all emotion and just coldly doing it, hurting but covering it up...just fantastic, and you know I love some hurt/comfort, and this seems like such a great set-up for emotional hurt

--but! this also seems like...a weird plot hole, kind of? Bucky’s pretty famous at this point, right? I imagine the criminal underworld knows he’s been pardoned and deprogrammed, right? or do they assume Zemo, with his knowledge of Hydra, still has some special control over him?

--along the same “this seems like someone didn’t think this through” path, Sam, you’re a professional, turn off your phone on a mission. Oh my god. Face-palmingly stupid - and I think somewhat lazy writing, as the writers plainly needed a giveaway, and went for the first idea they had. Even if it made a main character look incompetent.

--the Flag Smashers and Karli are...fine. They feel very Generic Marvel Villain - not the big space alien type, but the other type, the “I have a personal loss and motivating pain so I’m a little sympathetic but also Clearly Evil, watch me kill civilians so the audience won’t ever find me TOO sympathetic” type. Meh. Fine. Zemo’s more interesting, but...fine.

--Anthony Mackie is such a fantastic actor - every bit of his reaction to the Isaiah Bradley reveal is so good. The anger, pain, frustration, ferocity...heartbreaking. Actually that whole scene is so good - his emotions at discovering this secret history are palpable, and it’s so painful, because we also understand why Bucky would keep the secret - as someone who knows about pain and trauma and being experimented on, and knowing Isaiah wants to be left alone - we feel really deeply for both characters here, and it’s great.

--I actually liked the abrupt swing from the Isaiah Bradley encounter to the casual everyday racism of the cops on the street - is it subtle, no. But it’s not meant to be: it’s meant to be standing up and shouting about how not that much has really changed, and about how pervasive racism is. I know some reviews were all, “this was just too much!” or “too forced!” but...look, it needs to be shouted sometimes for people to hear.

--Bucky’s notebook being Steve’s, oh, ouch, my feelings. If I had the time and energy to write fic...

--(also, if I had the time and energy to write dark!fic: where’re my fics in which Zemo’s implication about the Winter Soldier “doing anything you want” gets played with? what or who does Bucky have to do to keep the undercover charade going? so many Bad Wrong Kinky power dynamics and explorations of consent and what this would do to Bucky’s head, here, and honestly I’d totally read them all, just saying.)

--Sam and Bucky together...I don’t know. This is one of the elements that I’m not actually a huge fan of, but I think it’s partly a personal genre / sense of humor thing that’s not clicking for me, personally, again. Like...

--I don’t find people shouting aggrievedly at each other to be funny? I’m not sure why it is.

--I mean, I get that they’re doing, like, eighties buddy cop movies, but...it got old really fast then, and it’s not something we needed to bring back. It’s not clever, and it’s...well, shouty and annoying.

--(I say this as someone who genuinely likes the first two Lethal Weapon movies...but the significant difference is, I think, we’re also shown in both those movies that Riggs and Murtaugh care about each other. They don’t want to be partners initially, and they don’t get along initially, and they do argue over tactics**...but they immediately feel responsible for each other and act to protect each other even as they argue, because it’s the right thing to do and we’re shown moments of them awkwardly trying to connect, because they both have that deep sense of...protectiveness...that makes them Good People - like, if they learn something that the other person needs to know, they tell each other. They protect each other’s families / love interests. So by the end of the second movie, with that fabulous character death fake-out, Murtaugh’s initial shock and grief is real and powerful and painful, and so is his genuine relief when the worst isn’t true - and it’s all earned.) (**however, they tend to argue tactics *before* jumping in - “is it 1, 2, 3, go on 3? or 3, then go?” And then once that’s established, they go ahead. That makes a difference as far as...well...competence and teamwork!)

--(Sam and Bucky, as far as I can tell, don’t do the above, and just...maybe shouldn’t be working together?)

--I also don’t find grown men acting like my youngest nephew, when he’s having a temper tantrum, to be funny. Staring contests? Random insults? Sulking in silence? Oh, grow up.

--(Also, yes, writers, we see you with the “couples therapy” and “get closer and make your legs touch” and “landing on top of each other as they hit the ground” moments. I, at least, personally, am very tired of...I don’t know that I’d call it queerbaiting exactly, but this idea that we’re supposed to find these moments funny...because why? Because, ooh, they’re two men getting close to each other, physically or emotionally? Why is this a thing we need to draw attention to? Do you think you’re doing some sort of fan service? Please either make Sam/Bucky happen or stop doing this.)

--both Sam and Bucky are highly competent and professional agents, or they should be. They should know how to work in the field - even with people they may not like - and adapt to shifting strategy, make best use of available assets, include people in the plan, etc. I can’t help but compare this to something like, say, Leverage, which also has a team who mocks each other and makes jokes but clearly absolutely respects each other’s capabilities, has a plan going in and tells everyone what the plan is, and adapts (and trusts each other to adapt) on the fly as necessary, and does it all without random insults about someone’s (PTSD-related) staring and “robot brain”.

--one of the very specific moments that bothers me a lot is the ending of the therapy scene (yay for showing heroes in therapy! but also I’m pretty sure she’s...not a great therapist?). Bucky finally opens up and says something real, about his own self-doubt and wondering whether Steve was wrong about him....and Sam just...brushes it off and goes, “we’re done here,” basically. Not only does that feel wildly out of character for former counselor Sam, it feels cruel. I really deeply dislike that moment the more I think about it. Makes me want to scream.

--Sam insults Bucky way more than the other way around. It’s starting to feel very one-sided (it’d be better if more clearly reciprocal, though it’s still not a dynamic that’s my favorite), and again, feels out of character - maybe this is Anthony Mackie’s sense of humor, but Sam isn’t Mackie, and Bucky isn’t Seb, and it reads as...a weird unbalanced power-trip thing to me. And also out of character for Sam, who can be sarcastic (”If you guys eat that sort of thing,” about breakfast, when Steve and Nat have randomly shown up at his door) but that’s not the same as just throwing unprovoked insults at a person who’s trying to recover from trauma, and a lot of those insults seem to center on things that were done to Bucky, that he had no choice in (the staring, the arm, etc), and that feels....it just feels mean, to me. Make fun of things he’s had a choice in / can do something about, if you have to - hair, clothes, liking “old people’s games” like gin rummy or pinochle, not knowing who Beyonce is, I don’t know, there are so many options that aren’t cruel! Do that instead. Let Bucky have a good comeback for once, too!

--the action scenes are action scenes. Also fine.

--Sam might be right about destroying the shield, and the show may even be (unintentionally?) setting that up as the best outcome, but that’s a problem for the future, Sam; get it back first. Also it’s a problem you caused by giving the shield up - did you really trust the government to leave it unused in a museum? You’re not that naive.

--overall, it’s...a perfectly fine show, so far, I think? Solid, and interesting, but not great. I think some of what doesn’t work for me is because it doesn’t work for me personally, as far as the shouty insult-heavy action “comedy” bits that I’m not enjoying, but I think they’re doing what they aimed for with it, so in that sense, I guess it’s working? There’s a lot of really cool stuff around the edges - John Walker, Isaiah Bradley, that Dora Milaje stinger, the bigger world of a history interwoven with racism and superpowers, the chillingly effective use of Bucky’s past - but I wish I liked the central Sam-Bucky relationship more. Individually they’re wonderful - they’ve both had such powerful scenes dealing with family, trauma, and consequences - but I feel like, in the effort to do the buddy comedy dynamic, the writing has just made me really sure that they actually genuinely don’t like each other? To such an extent that if they show any affection / caring / interest in each other in the last three episodes, it won’t be believable. (I mean Sam and Bucky, not Mackie and Seb. Mackie and Seb’re adorable.)

--I just want to think about Zemo dancing some more.

[purplesurveys]

1389

If you have a job, who’s your closest friend at work? Kata. I used to work under her as her associate, and we just had a great dynamic and our daily workload was a breeze – busy, but manageable – because of how in sync we were. Ever since I got promoted to manager and I started handling my own accounts and she got paired with another associate, things have drastically changed and not always for the better. We always find ourselves in personal Google Meets mid-work ranting to one another about how our mental health is now spiraling and that we’re both thinking of resigning, lol.

Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? My mom has this rowing thingy and a couple of dumbbells but that’s it.

Were your parents born in the same country they now live in? Yes, they/we never migrated anywhere else even though I know my mom had done her part in trying to convince my dad to move to somewhere like Canada.

How did you celebrate New Years last year? I can’t even remember; January 1 feels like 6 months ago...I think I may have hung out with my aunt and uncles? – the cool ones that I have haha – and spent the entire evening drinking and telling stories.

What would you do if you found a wallet containing $100 on the street? Check immediately if there’s an ID inside that can help me locate the owner and if there’s none, I’d look for a relevant Facebook group wherein I can announce the lost wallet. Police are pretty irrelevant/useless here.

Have you told anyone you love them today? I don’t think so but probably later once I play with the dogs.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 8. I got home at midnight extremely exhausted and passed out in like five minutes; then I woke up at around 8 AM today.

Are you in any physical or emotional pain right now? Emotional-wise I think I’m always going through something, I guess; it’s just a matter of how well I can subdue it on a particular day.

What’s the time right now? 8:47 AM.

Is the sun still up, or is it dark? It’s way way up. January weather is finally gone and we’re all bracing ourselves for the impending summer heat of doom that is to come. :/

Have you seen all The Hunger Games films that have been released so far? Nah just the first one since they used to air it on some movie channel – I believe HBO? – for the longest time.

Is there an automatic fog light in your yard? We have no use for a fog light here but we do have an automatic light by the stairs of our rooftop.

When was the last time you used the bathroom? Last night when I freshened up before meeting up with Angela and Hans.

How many living grandparents do you still have? Three.

Are you currently in a relationship? Nopes.

Have you ever heard people having sex in the next room? Ugh. Yes.

What are your plans for the rest of the day? I have to go to the mall this morning to get “Christmas gifts” for my cousins – I only see them when my dad is home so I delayed gift-shopping for them for the longest time hahaha; and now that my dad is coming home today, I am, in what no longer comes as a shock to me, doing last-minute shopping.

Anyway, coming from that, we’re picking up my dad from the airport today yay! That’ll be in the afternoon so I’ll have time to shop and all.

How many times have you been sick this year? I am 99.9% certain I got Covid at the start of the year so let’s go with that. I also got a slight fever after my booster dose but that’s about it.

Is there a garage or carport attached to your house? Yes, we have a carport.

Were you born somewhere other than a hospital? Nope, that’s where I was born.

Have you ever been on a strict diet and exercise regime? No. There was never a strict need for one, which is fortunate because I’ve never had the discipline for either a diet or a workout routine.

Who did you text today, and what did you talk about? I haven’t texted anyone today.

How long do you usually take in the shower? It used to be 5 minutes but ever since bleaching my hair I now take up to 10 because of the extra effort needed to take care of my hair.

Have you ever worked in an office? I mean yeah, technically I’ve done it around thrice when we scheduled office days during the days of Covid just so we could get to meet one another. But I’ve never done travelled to work as a daily routine just yet. Who knows though, I might get to do it soon as we’re steadily crawling away from Covid now.

Who does the grocery shopping in your house? My mom does but when my dad is home, they alternate.

How many times have you been out of state that you can remember? My country and especially the urban area are both super small my dude haha. I’m technically “out of town” literally several times a week.

Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? Yes.

What time do you plan to wake up tomorrow? I’m not sure about that but I know we have to get up early in general since we’ll be driving down south to meet with my dad’s family. And, ugh, wish me luck – with election season coming up, and with me having DRASTICALLY different political beliefs compared to that entire side of the family, I am most likely to be interrogated and ganged up on -___-

Have you ever been in serious trouble at work or school? No. For some reason I never got caught or sent to the guidance office for being in a same-sex relationship back then which I always provoked the teachers and staff on, lol. I was never scared of showing the fact off.

Do you know anyone who struggles with a mental disorder? Of course.

What’s your go-to activity when you’re bored? I watch BTS videos.

Have you ever been vegan or vegetarian? Nope, they’re so inaccessible here so it’s impossible to start such a diet unless you’ve got the monies. I do try to order vegan options whenever they’re available though – last week I had this vegan Jamaican patty from Starbucks and it was really good!

Are you tired right now? Nah, I had lots of rest and am properly awake.