#i have so many more but ill show them some other time

[genderqueerdykes]

i read your post about punkness and thought i'd ask you since i love this account. i saw a tiktok (i know not a great place already) that said that you can't call yourself punk/be punk if you don't go to shows. is that true...? im severely disabled and deaf so i can't really listen to music and leave my house, but i've always identified myself with the punk/goth scene. i know music is a huge part of subcultures so i've always felt very left out of (online mainly) punk/goth spaces even though i try and participate in other ways.

hello there!

not only is that not true, but it's ableist and lame as hell. that is so pretentious, i am so tired of online punks distilling punk to "listens to loud music". and further more, people trying to create a divide between "real and fake punks." this is just the "POSER!!!!!!" fake goth shit from the 2000s all over again. punk shows are genuinely dangerous for a lot of people for quite literally no reason whatsoever. like they're enjoyable for many, but they are NOT accessible to disabled people in general. some places im sure go above and beyond but most are organized by someone who's intoxicated, or thinking about the "wow" factor more than anyone's safety or well being.

i don't go to shows anymore. i did for the better part of a year and then stopped because i am also disabled. most of the venues are VERY small and crowded. there is no room for mobility aids. i've had to be out on the floor with other people dancing and moshing without even a cane. you can very easily get pushed or hit or knocked down and people may or may not help you get up. also the crowds get filmed without anyone being informed beforehand that there might be filming happening and that might not feel welcoming to paranoid people

there's almost always flashing lights at shows for some reason, which can be extremely dangerous for epileptic and photosensitive individuals. these sorts of spaces are hell on earth for anxious people, people with PTSD, autism, schizophrenia, ADHD and many other kinds of neurodivergence and mental illness. there's generally not really spaces where you can decompress or stop hearing loud noises for a while. i literally just hung out outside most of the venues because the music was so loud it was making my ears ring. people with tinnitus and misophonia are going to struggle greatly in these environments

alcohol and drugs are the norms at these shows. often times, minors are not carded, and are in fact given booze and alcohol anyways because the show organizers just don't see that as a bad thing. i witnessed show organizers in my own area giving drugs and alcohol to minors and not carding anyone. i was offered so many different types of drugs and offered alcohol so many times it made me dizzy. i had issues with alcohol in the past and have trauma surrounding it and being around drunk people. these environments are NOT friendly for addicts and substance users who are trying to maintain a healthy relationship with substances, or those who need to be away from them in order to heal

like you mentioned, a lot of d/Deaf and hard of hearing people may not feel included in these spaces. not only that but shows can CAUSE hearing damage and loss, due to the fact that no one is making sure that the music is being played at a safe volume. most of the time it's as loud as the speakers will go, or close to it. most of the instruments are either intentionally poorly tuned, or tuned in such a way where they sound harsh, aggressive, avant garde and unique. as a result, this can hurt a lot of people's ears, overstimulate them, or cause them to faint if it's certain tones or decibels. i know many punks who developed hearing loss due to this

i tried to point out that saying that punks HAVE to listen to punk music is ableist toward d/Deaf and hard of hearing people but for whatever reason that pissed people off. but i'd like to stress again: if you assert that punks HAVE to listen to punk music, you are leaving out people with hearing difficulties. not all d/Deaf and hard of hearing people can't hear anything at all, I understand this. but saying that punks HAVE to listen to music is leaving out so many people with hearing difficulties or those who are in danger of losing their hearing. please be compassionate. this is a serious issue.

it's not virtue signalling to say that this affects deaf and hoh punks in a very serious way. thank you for reaching out to talk about it. honestly, shame on everyone who said it's virtue signalling to point out that punks saying you have to listen to music is a slap in the face to a lot of deaf and hoh people. i hope this gives you something to think about. you really need to consider people on every side of a spectrum when it comes to a disability. you need to care about people with significant or total hearing loss, too.

anyone who tells you you HAVE to go to shows and listen to punk music is a cop without realizing it. they're policing who punks are and what they do. that's gatekeeping. that's policing others' identities. that's literally unpunk. as long as you resonate with punk ideals and aren't a cop or other kind of fascist, you're a punk. it really is that simple. it's an entire subculture outside of just the music. i get how important the music is. but it's literally so ableist to say that punks HAVE to listen to music and HAVE to go to shows.

also, not all punks have the time. some punks have a family to care for or careers they enjoy. not all punks have a local punk music scene at all. that's a very privileged approach if you ask me.

[eternaltempest]

Light without Darkness

{Part 2 / TBD}

Demetrian Titus x Fem reader

! 🔞 ! ✠ Pregnancy ✠ Violence (chase scene?) ✠

A/N : God this park took forever. Also writing the latter half took the writussy outta me. Not sure what else to put for tw so uh- good luck!

Tempe out! ✌️

S : After a chance encounter with a guardsmen, you find yourself pregnant and terrified of the future in store. You plan to escape, only to be stopped in your tracks by Demetrian Titus himself, who gives you an unexpected vow

Part 1

Following the celebration, your days return to relative normalcy. You and the other serfs are put straight to work cleaning up after the feast. This one was particularly... unseemly and the messes made throughout the fortress take nearly a week to properly cleanse. 

You and your fellow serfs are no stranger to disarray though, and it is cleaned with efficacy. 

While working, however, you notice a set of unwanted changes within your body. At first you're just sore, that which is to be expected and only lasts for so long. And even the bruises and love bites eventually fade with time, albeit you found it tedious to cover them up each morning. But such was the livery codes of serfdom, as no self respecting serf would present themselves in such a manner before their lord. 

This was all manageable and you are able to pull through after a couple weeks. However, the soreness and pains were replaced with a sudden sickening dizziness and nausea. 

Each morning, you wake queasy and unsteady, a green tint to your bronzed skin damn near every morning. Your senses become hypersensitive, particularly to smells and you end up forgoing breakfasts, running to the nearest chamber pot or window each time you get a scent of anything unsavory. Which was more often than not.  Still, you press on. You dismiss the minor aches and inconveniences; the unusually strong, lingering odors of over seasoned food or the caked on sweat and blood of the infantry's laundry.     

Yet as days turn into weeks, you continue to push your luck and brush it off. You convince yourself that it’s just a passing sickness. Everyone falls ill at some point, you tell yourself. And many of the serfs became ill after the feast, you were just taking a bit longer to recover, that's all. Nothing more.

But by the time you know it, it has nearly been two months since the night of the feast. The morning sickness shows no sign of stopping and other symptoms arise as well, like near constant exhaustion even when you've had a full night's rest. you start to become anxious as you cannot deny the looming truth any longer. 

You find yourself one day brooding and sitting on your bed in your shared room, half-asleep and clutching your aching stomach. You stress about your realization and the truth of your... condition. You wearily get up and head to the serf maids common area, everyone else is there and as you enter the chamber there is a noticeable hush in the previously boisterous conversations. 

The other serfs have long noticed your behavior as well, but in your exhausted state, you fail to register their concerned whispers. 

Your friend Zoahra and two recently conscripted serf maids; the twins Sydia and Dynia, approach you out of concern. 

Zoahra puts a hand on your arm and tenderly pats you “Morning lovey, we're all a bit concerned for you, are you… feeling well?” You blink through the mind fog that seems to perpetually follow you, bleary-eyed and exhausted. "I am well, just a little tired.” you lie, forcing the corners of your mouth into a smile. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you are most clearly NOT, fine child!" A voice sharp but smooth pierces the hushed mutterings of the room. You turn around and realize it’s one of the older head serfs, Icara, a woman everyone sees as a mother in her matronly role. She’s seen many things in her long years as both a midwife to the high Lords of Macragge and a veteran serf. Throughout her years her eyes and mind remained sharp as steel and she was known for picking up on falsehoods or sniffing out a rat.

“You are not fine,” she scoffs. “And your deceptions are as poor as your health, child." She booms as she squints her knowing eyes at you. The room erupts with more whispers and you realize what everyone has been talking about. You hang your head with a mixture of embarrassment and shame.

"WHO TOLD YOU LOT TO PRATTLE ON ABOUT MENIAL TOPICS, ALL OF YOU, BACK TO WORK. IMMEDIATELY!" Icara booms, causing the hive of serfmaidens to frantically scatter to their posts. Zoahra, who stayed by your side, gives you an apologetic look and stays right where she is. The twins in their curiosity stay as well.

You four are left alone with the matron as she refocuses her attention on you. "Now, child, I am no stranger to the throes of life as a serf maiden. Nor am I ignorant to the annals of youth. And I promise you, no harm will come to you if you speak with honesty and humility. So that being said, if you'd please, tell me. Who is the father?” she sternly but gently coaxes you.

You hesitate, taking a pensive breath before answering in a rattled voice, “One of the guardsmen, an officer, I think. He had a beard but I… I-” 

You swallow your nerves before continuing. “Forgive me, Icara, I cannot remember. My memory of that night is all a distorted blur.”

“Emperor guide us, let’s hope it’s not one of the insufferable ones, like Major Cytharion,” Zoahra says with a sigh of exasperation. Cytharion is known to be a strict officer to both his serfs and the guardsmen under him. He has a presence as intimidating as an Ultramarine.

Your stomach churns at the very thought.

“He’d never. If anything, he would be easier to deal with if he got a little action. Even his personal serfs say he’s a headache.” one of the twins says with a wag of her eyebrows. "Besides I heard he's made friends with a company of Ultramarines and they often let him train with them!" Another adds enthusiastically.

"Just think if he ends up being an Ultramarine." At this point the twins are going back and forth, forgetting that the matron is right there beside them. 

"No way, that's unheard of. Regular people like Major Cytharion cannot become Space Marines so late in life. It's a whole process that starts at boyhood, you know." 

"Well maybe that's why he's so wound up, he missed his shot right? And that's why he's just a Major in the Imperial Infantry?" 

"Tch Major Cytharion, more like Major pain in the-"

The matron tsks and snaps her fingers at the two of them. “If you have the ability to stand idle and chitter then, you most certainly can start thinking to help.”

The twins are stunned into silence but turn to you and offer an apologetic bow, to which you return with a pat on their heads. They remind you of the younger serfs that grew up with you.

“Now, we must make plans,” the matron says firmly. “You may not recall the face of the father, but he will certainly remember you. In order to avoid confrontation, you'd best get to the outer city. I have connections there, people: good people, who can help hide you. Keep you and the child safe until enough time has passed to avoid suspicion. If we time everything correctly you may leave within-”

"Wha- pardon me, Matron, but leave?? I cannot leave. All my life I've only ever known the inner city and this fortress.” Your face twisting in horror as you imagine the situation 

“And a serf can't simply leave, we're hunted down and forced to return to our lords. Nevermind about the subjection to any manner of punishment. It's dangerous!" You plead with a tinge of fear in your voice. Such notions of fleeing your livelihood are unthinkable to you and many others in servitude.

She pauses, her tone deepening when she speaks. “Ordinarily, yes, this would be unheard of. However, given the circumstances you cannot stay. If you do, you'll be punished either way, and even worse, your child could be taken and you would have little say in it. You must have strength.”

You reel slightly and your face contorts with the realization. They're both dangerous options, but at least with the former you'll be able to be with your child and it wouldn’t be subject to a life as a serf like your own parents subjected you at birth. You swallow a knot in your throat and meet the eyes of the Matron. 

"What must I do?"

She begins to explain her plan with precision worthy of her years. Like she has done this a million times before, and it comforts you in your hour of need. The preparations will take time, lots of time. Over the next fortnight, you all coordinate in between downtime and shared chores. Practicing over and over until everyone has their parts memorized by heart. 

A few days after you are with Zomahra and Icara, hanging up sheets to dry in the inner courtyards. It dawns on you to ask something that has been at the back of your mind since the day in the common room. 

"Why are you all helping me?" You ask with a curious and cautious tone. 

They both pause their work and steal a glance at each other before once more busying their hands. But nonetheless they answer in haste. Icara is the first to speak.

"Many years ago when I still worked as a midwife to many of the Lords and their ladies I was also midwife to the locals. Young maidens such as yourself, but oh how they struggled. You know not of the desperation countless women suffer through. Many of them endured violent acts at the hands of their lords and subsequent retaliation of their envious ladies. And many more succumb to unspeakable invasions of their bodies so they would be rid of a lifetime of living reminders of their abuse." Her voice drops to a reverent whisper as she reaches the end of her sentence.

"Others were in a situation similar to yours but with much less at stake, they chose to flee regardless. No matter the situation, I helped them all. And although it has been decades since those times, your struggle reminded me I still have a moral obligation to uphold." She finishes with a pained smile. 

There are countless people under the Imperium of the God Emperor, as abundant as the grains of sand or stars in the sky. One less life in the world would make little or no difference at all. But to say or think one thing and to actually do it are completely different concepts. And you cannot bring yourself to do what the Matron spoke of. 

Zoahra speaks up while you ponder Icara's words. "Well, I am not sure if you remember but you helped me so much when I first came to be conscripted. And over the years I've come to see you as a dear friend. Perhaps... My dearest one." She states bashfully 

“And there's no chance I'll let you suffer through this alone, at least not if I can help it…” her words trail off as her face flushes red and she quite literally hides behind the fresh linen. 

Overwhelmed with gratitude you give her the warmest hug you can muster “For one such as I, so fallen from grace, it is an assurance to have so faithful a friend. Thank you so much, Zo.” You say as you bury your face in her side swept hair. You squeeze her close, grateful to have someone like her in your corner. “I'm grateful for your steadfast loyalty, even though I have not mirrored the same to you.” You place a hand on the side of her head and leave a kiss on her forehead. Her entire face turns crimson as she jerks back and touches her hand to where you planted it. “Wha- you! I-!!!” She stutters as she tries to find her composure “I-it's not like you wouldn't do the same for me!” 

Her bashful demeanor makes you smile and the Matron lets out a hearty laugh behind you. In days of relative anxiety, the jovial mood is a welcome one and it gives you hope for the long journey ahead of you. 

The coming weeks are filled with further preparation for your departure. Icara has asked a few other serfs whom she trusts to aid with the plan. She begins to  detail her plan for you. Schedules and movements are practiced with everyone over and over, all under the guise of emergency drills or supply runs so that the ever watchful eyes of the servo-skulls and the chaplains are avoided. Until finally, everyone is comfortable in their roles and timing and the day of your escape is at hand.

That night, you make your escape, donning an unassuming merchant garb and a cloak to attract less attention. Clutching a satchel of emergency supplies you begin your path, your heart stirs in your chest while you navigate the fortress’ dimly lit corridors. Thanks to Icara’s foresight, all who would be patrolling are well distracted or removed from the usual patrol routes.

You slip through the dimly lit corridors, staying close to the stone walls with quiet steps, and appearing as normal when you encounter someone so as to not raise suspicion. You swiftly twist and turn in the halls that are more abandoned as you pray that no one spots you. You grow more excited the closer you get to the main exit, but then notice— a shadow of movement, the steps quiet as a barge mouse but sñthe figure large enough to be...

You pause at the realization. An Astartes. The world goes deafeningly silent and your stomach lurches with a combination of your sensitivity and anxiety. Then the shadow moves again, and your senses sharpen with the sudden adrenaline. You can hear the ceramite dragging on the stone floor as he inches closer. Your eyes dart around as a multitude of questions arise. Here? Now?  Why? He shouldn’t be here. You and the others checked and double-checked, consistently and obsessively, so no one should be here. So why,  why? 

You don’t have time to ponder long as the weight of the steps continue their pursuit of you. But as you try to shake him it dawns on you; he’s been following you. He knew you were there from the beginning, before you could even think to run or hide.

The corridor suddenly shrinks around you and you feel a chill as you break out into a cold sweat, but you regain your composure and instead retreat back around the way you came. Darting down a different hallway, keeping note of your location respective to the fortress' exit. Maybe you can get around him and avoid being caught completely. “Don’t panic, don't panic, if you act as if  you’re doing nothing wrong you’ll be fine, just keep going, keep going.” You think to yourself like a mantra to keep yourself grounded and focused.

Your stomach twists, threatening to fold you over and slow you down. But you can’t let yourself get caught — not now, not after coming so close. You clutch your abdomen as you calmly navigate the corridors until you find something familiar, a symbol on the walls signaling a path to the exit. You let out a quick sigh of relief. You approach the corner and beyond it finally see the massive metal doors that are marked as an egress. 

You’re so close now, but so is the marine you catch a glimpse of — your eyes meeting for a split second as you round the corner. Something in you snaps and you break out into a run, hopeless compared to the speed of an Ultramarine but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. 

Thunk- Thunk- Thunk- Thunk.

The heavy footsteps fall in line, one rapid step after another. The chase is pathetically short lived, you don’t even make it half way down the hall before he’s already upon you. His imposing shadow looms over you and the world slows to a crawl, the once long corridor stretches out into an abysmal length. Like a rabbit in the clutches of a wolf, you freeze. Your hands are chilled as your sweat robs you of warmth. 

There’s silence except for shaky breaths and the loud rushing of blood to your head.

Until a heavy gauntlet hand lands on your shoulder and you jump from the sudden contact.

You hear movement and a sudden whisper in your ear 

“Breathe,” 

You do, but it refuses to come out as anything less than trembling breaths. In an instant all those plans you made, the efforts of everyone involved, have been in vain. Tears of fear and frustration well up in your eyes. But that voice, it almost sounded like

He squeezes your shoulder. It’s not a command, but a gentle urging for you to turn around and face him. And what else can you do? You obey and half heartedly turn to look up at him. You recognize him right away. It’s Lord Lieutenant Demetrian Titus, an officer of the Ultramarine 2nd Company. As a ranked officer his orders were absolute, second only to those above him in rank. From the whispers and gossip you had heard of him, he is a long decorated war hero. Though if you recall correctly he had a recent demotion, why and of what severity was unknown to you. Despite his vague fall from grace, he’s always been a favorite among the serfs for his exemplary kindness and temperance among his fellow Ultramarines. Why someone of such renown was bothering with a lowly serf like you was beyond you though.

The usual stern expression softens with concern when he takes in the clearly troubled look on your face and your still shaky breathing. Yet, his hand remains firm on your shoulder, steadying you.

“Breathe,” he says again, kinder this time. “Explain yourself.”

“P-please my Lord,” you whisper as you turn your gaze to the ground between the both of you. There’s no sense lying or trying to make excuses now. “I cannot remain… I-” Your own words betray you as they get caught in the  lump in your throat.

You feel another gentle squeeze, a soft but urgent reminder to speak. You lift your head back up to him but avoid meeting his eyes by squeezing your eyes shut. A warm, desperate tear streaks down your cheek. 

“I’m with child, Lord Titus.”

Titus slowly moves his head back, as if to show his sudden clarity, his grip on your shoulder lifting but never leaving. “Hrm, but why flee?” His question coming off rhetorical.

You blink, not expecting the question, and the shock suspends your tears momentarily. Titus’ mind races, no doubt, mulling the situation over in his head, trying to find answers in the codes and regulations, and a way through. But he comes up short. After all, it is not often an Ultramarine, especially an officer, is made to deal with such civilian frivolities. Not knowing what to follow up with, he begins asking more questions. “Why not just raise the child here? It would not be the first time.” 

You shake your head, your head still hanging low. “The Ordinator of the House and the Master of the Refectorium I serve under, are both exemplary but quite strict. They say there is no room to bring up unwanted babes. Besides I—.” 

The shame in your next thought stops you as you further explain. 

“As much as the position is honorable, I do not wish to burden my child with the life of a serf. My own parents brought me into this world a serf but that does little to motivate the same fate for mine. My thought was to flee the fortress and raise my baby in the outer city, where it is relatively safe. But… now…”

His gaze hardens as he brings the other hand up and squeezes your shoulders.

“That is… unfortunate” he begins. “However, suppose there was a way to avoid this.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, lifting your head to look up at him, a fragile blend of fear and hope twisting inside of you. “...how?”

“You wouldn’t just run without a good reason especially given the ideology of your serf officers and the mention of your child being unwanted.” 

While he continues you wince at his words, although you yourself never considered your baby undesirable, it hurts to think others would. Or worse, take them from you.

“I suspect the father is not another serf, and it is this that drives you to take such drastic action.”

Meeting his eyes, your face twists in the looming fear of having to relinquish your child  “I am afraid,” you confess quietly, as the stream of tears track down your face once more. “I don’t know what to do. What if he takes the baby from me… what if he makes it so I never see it again— what if he dooms it to a life worse than serfdom!” You place your hands on his forearms in a desperate attempt to explain yourself “I do not want them to take away my baby!” You shake your head vehemently among your cries.

Titus’ hands tighten on your shoulders, effectively focusing you and drawing your attention back to him. “I understand. I do. It is the duty of an Astartes under the God Emperor Himself to protect humanity. That is why, on my honor, I will offer you my protection,” he vows. “Become my personal seneschal and I can shield you. And if need be, I will claim your child as my own.”

You jerk your head back and your face contorts in apprehension at his sudden vow “But— my lord… What of your status? What of your reputation!? Why would you—?” you bring a hand to your chest as you react.

“I have weathered worse blows to my reputation,” Titus replies, a look of fortitude upon his face. He looks down at you. “And this is the right course of action. There is little I could do in this situation, this is what I believe is appropriate.”

The astounded expression remains on your face as you cannot shake the reality of what is happening. 

“Come,” he says, letting go of your shoulders. He gently takes the satchel of supplies from your hands.

But you are frozen still. More so stunned than afraid now. Titus could have easily overtaken your meager strength when you refused to budge but he just looks back when he notices your hesitance. 

You stare at him. A scowl on your face and mouth agape.  “My lord, forgive my impertinence but why are you doing this? Do you not think this to be far beneath your station? It’s not even—”

You look away as you stop yourself from sounding too insolent by telling him it has nothing to do with him. 

“It’s nothing to do with one such as yourself. My lord.” 

He is silent for a moment too long until finally “Do not concern yourself with such things.” he says with a low timbre in his voice. 

He extends a firm hand to you.

You glance at his hand and back at him. Your expression falls seriously.

He sighs, perhaps out of slight exasperation.

“Come. There is a room near my quarters you may utilize, and once you’ve gathered your thoughts we can discuss this further.”

You hold his gaze but take his hand and begrudgingly accept his help

It is either this or losing your child to its unknown father. The former, although bizarre, seems a lot more… manageable at the very least.

“Thank you. Lord Titus.” you murmur, following him as he leads you deeper back into the fortress. With each step, you feel the heavy weight of fear and uncertain lift and for the first time in weeks, you breathe.

[kurtsvonneslut]

Wait... what was the swanqueen fic recs? ...and are there more (...esp if theyre smutty) 👀👀👀

oh there are more!!!

first of all i'm just going to plug myself because why not. i have 78 swan queen works up - mostly oneshots, a couple longfics, including the fic i'm currently writing, change with the seasons. a lot of my fics are older (for example my 52 weeks of swan queen series was written in 2015) and i was a teenager when i wrote them, but i still find a lot of joy in them!!

now for the rest of the recs, i'm going to organize them as best i can into a few categories. also, a lot of these recs will be a bit older as i've been away from the fandom for a while, and am only just now coming back again. this is an open question if anyone else has recommendations to add in the reblogs!!!

longfics:

satin town by @coalitiongirl is probably my all time favorite fanfic, period. everything she's written for the fandom is incredible, but this one has always stuck with me. the dynamic between emma and regina (who is in full on evil queen mode) is just DELICIOUS and i love how she worked henry into the story. an absolute must as far as i'm concerned. PLUS she has a whole NOVEL out now, so go support that if you like the fic!!!!

the secret's in the telling by @the-pyrophoric-one is another classic in the fandom, and for good reason. the characterization is so spot on, and i absolutely love the arc of this story. the chapters are suuuuuper long though so it's a time investment!!

somewhere, someone must know the ending by maleficently who is not on tumblr as far as i'm aware is a divorce au. lots of angst with a happy ending. the same author also wrote an incredible three-part series called the fatal plunge, which remains, tragically, unfinished.

you gotta play dirty by amycarey who i'm not tagging because they don't write fic anymore. there's so many fics by amycarey that i absolutely adore (temporary distractions and keep the wolves outside by living well are also up there!!) but i chose this one because it's so unique to me. it's an au in which emma and regina are in a concert band together. i was a band kid myself, specifically a clarinetist, so i was pretty geeked over this!!

all that glitters is not (olypmic) gold by @queststar is another super niche but super fun and well-written au. in this one, emma and regina are olympic speed skaters. i just love the competitive energy between the two of them and the arc as they grow closer and eventually fall for each other. the author even got elizabeth mitchell to read some of it which is just. next level.

one fine star away by @bytherosebushlaughing is another au that gets a little meta, but it's sooooo much fun. in this fic, once upon a time is a tv show that regina, emma, and the others starred in. 20 some years later, the cast is reuniting, and the reunion is being covered by none other than one henry mills. it's such a clever fic, and i absolutely love it so far!!

oneshots:

of love and loss and love again by @snowivyimconfusi oh this one. this one is so bittersweet. emma and regina, grieving the losses of their partners, find comfort in each other. and more. it's so beautifully done, and i just adore ivy's writing style!!

what you thought you had to do by hoovahhoopah is the very first fic i read after making my ao3 account and it's still one that i love!! it's part of a six part series of oneshots called ill fitting pieces, but it also stands on its own just as well. just a beautiful, classic, canon-but-make-it-better kind of fic.

a woman moves when her heart has been broken by etotheswan because who among us wasn't absolutely destroyed by the season 3 finale???? this offered a lot of swan queen based catharsis while we waited for season 4.

monster-in-law by seriousfic is just a funny, light-hearted little oneshot about mary margaret trying to stop emma and regina's wedding by reminding them that they're all sort of related. a big departure from the seriousfic work we all know and miss dearly..... but enjoyable nonetheless thanks to their talent!!

and now, the moment we've all been waiting for, smut:

top of the list is, of course, our prophet of swan queen smut @angstbotfic. the making amends series is my all time favorite, and one that i recommended to my dear friend 27, but you can't go wrong with literally anything they've written.

wicked games by @starsthatburn is so. is so. it left me basically speechless. also recommended this one to 27, and i believe this is the one referenced in the ask they sent. it's the most insanely hot BDSM fantasy. if you like domme regina, look no further.

the thing she won't admit by beattheodds if you like butt stuff, here's swan queen butt stuff. need i say more?

paint it black by wily_one24 heed the warnings, this one is pretty dark. but if that's what you're into, this is the one. it's like if 50 shades of grey was swan queen and also good.

of love and loathing by morganlegaye and its sequel, transgressions of the heart are a hatefuck lover's dream. transgressions of the heart remains unfinished, but god is it good.

fealty by standbackufools you like throne sex? you like honorifics? you like D/s dynamic? enjoy :)

thank god it's BDSM friday by carrotlucky13 this one covers soooooo many kinks. emma and regina enter into a 24/7 BDSM lifestyle. for 95k words. i don't know what else to say but WOWOWOWOW. even if you're not into every kink in here it's still hot af.

emma's little problem by juicecup it's a magic!cock story with a slight humiliation kink if you squint, but otherwise mostly vanilla sex to round out a very kinky rec list.

go give these incredible creators some love!!! and remember, nothing motivates a fic writer quite like a nice comment :)

[thewistlingbadger]

I'm annoyed that the many issues with canon Timebomb due to the rushed way the show handled the pairing have started to seep into the fanfic sphere too - namely, Jinx's mental illness being downplayed, Ekko having no personality, relationships or individual motivations outside of his relationship with Jinx and the Firelights being non-existent.

It's got to the point I actively seek out fics published between S1 and S2 over newer ones. They are more likely to nail Jinx and Ekko's characterisation and their dynamic where even the show's writers couldn't.

As someone who doesn't ship timebomb I completely understand your take and it is VALID. Timebomb as a concept is very interesting because theoretically you have these two childhood friends that lost each other only to be reunited later in life as enemies on opposing sides. That is some really compelling groundwork for a romantic relationship! However, the show doesn't really do anything to actually frame them like this. We rarely get to see Jinx and Ekko interact in the whole show, let alone exchange any dialogue with each other.

The timebomb "content" in season two feels misplaced and undeserved because it IS. The only time we've seen these two actually together in a meaningful way in s1 is their fight one the bridge. That fight made it clear that these two have a history that the audience isn't privy to and this one scene is the entire foundation for arcane! timebomb. Ekko has an entire episode in season two that is NOT dedicated to expanding his character, NOT dedicating to elaborating on his relationship with Jinx, but an episode that is dedicated to exploring an alternative reality where Jinx grew up to be a different person. We spend all this time with Ekko and Powder and then the show acts like their dynamic is somehow transferable to Ekko and Jinx by showing us that somehow when Ekko went back to Jinx he was able to reconcile with her and save her life and get her to fight one last time.

To me this makes no sense because episode 7 really didn't show us anything illuminating about Ekko or his relationship with Jinx. It didn't explain what happened between them, or why Ekko would have romantic feelings for Jinx. We go the whole show without ever actually getting any context as to what happened between them, so the nature of their relationship is truly a mystery. Ekko doesn't go through any major development in that episode, he stays consistent throughout the whole time. Ekko in general is unfortunately a character that goes unexplored throughout the whole show. We don't know much about who he is as a character and his goals, motivations, or reasonings. This same issue occurs with The Firelights. We know they're a group of rebels, but what do they ACTUALLY want and what are their plans to achieve their goals?

Ultimately it was decided that none of this mattered because instead of using the groundwork laid out in season one, season two only had one thing in mind: their end goal. And that end goal consisted largely of fan service, which is why we got a timebomb kiss. Not because it added to Jinx and Ekko's story (the kiss wasn't even between Jinx and Ekko lol) but because the ship is popular and they knew a kiss would make fans happy. A large part of the fandom is very happy with the fan service they received in this season and now they are, predictably, running wild with it. Timebomb has become even more popular than it already was and most of the content is very sweet in nature. I'm glad that shippers are fed and enjoying themselves. However, I cannot look past how the adoration for the ship has made people turn a blind eye to what was established prior to season two. The Firelights are important to Ekko, and Jinx killed many of them over the span of several years. Jinx was born with mental illness and her illness impacted her everyday life. Ekko and Jinx seemingly have a complex history that needs to be unpacked before they can even ATTEMPT to be on good terms again. The last time we saw Ekko and Jinx in s1 they LITERALLY tried to kill each other! This is a relationship that deserves and NEEDS time to be understood.

As for Jinx's mental illness being downplayed? 100% true. In season one Jinx's mental health was vital to the story the writers were trying to tell. They didn't want Jinx to seem like a manic, Joker-type character. They wanted her to be someone the audience would simultaneously pity and fear. But in season two, the end goal was to have Jinx reconcile with Vi and be a hero. To the people behind season two, this wasn't possible without stripping Jinx of everything that made her a fan favorite. Season one was all about rejecting the past and embracing who you truly are and what you've become. Jinx's final action in season one is sitting in the Jinx chair, proclaiming she has changed, and then nuking topside. But in season two, Jinx answers to the name Powder and says "Jinx is dead." In season two, Jinx becomes completely pacified and is no longer a murderous criminal who struggles with daily hallucinations. The erasure of her mental illness and identity has led fans to come to the conclusion that she was never really "that messed up" to begin with, all her problems were because of Silco and now that Silco's gone, she's better. This view is incorrect because we see Jinx have meltdown before she even meets Silco AND arguably Jinx reverting back to Powder isn't inherently a good thing. Powder isn't inherently the "better" version of Jinx. The fact that she even reverts at all goes completely against the message of season one and Silco's dying words, "Don't cry. You're perfect."

[silliemop]

#1, #23 and #24 for the OC ask meme! (: !

Your first OC ever?

i think i made my first oc around when i was 8 or 9? maybeee? the oc was also kinda a half persona as well. she has a story of what you expect from a 10 year old. she’s pretty much was the creator of the world and overlooked everything anddd could defeat anyone easily. her design is a rainbow sleeping mask and sometimes wings. her design kept updating throughout the years till i changed my persona completely. decided to draw her and the other designs because i honestly miss them!!!

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

even tho this dude has a huge story, idk his name yet. for now its eddie!! his first design was the one on the left. he was nothing more then some musical fire wizard thing. his current design is him but a bit older(after all his conflicts passed) I love him sm that's why he suffers my wrath

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

tough choiceee hmmmmm. i think it would be this candy dude oc cuz he was in a nightmare i had a long while ago and i'd punch him for scaring me (jkjk i actually don't know who id like to meet i love my ocs sdhjdhsj)

tyy for the ask btw!!! :DD

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode

[orcelito]

Ok, I'm apparently in such a state that Iroh's story from the Tales of Ba Sing Se episode. Made me cry.

Watched this episode who knows how many times. I know exactly what would happen. But it sure is the first time I've watched this episode since several major deaths in my life.

God. I'm not used to being this emotionally affected by things.

[sirompp]

did you know lego has a "pick a brick" thing on their site whee you can pick individual bricks to buy. unrelated but did you know ive never shopped online for anything before.

[tkbrokkoli]

:O

[lastoneout]

I keep thinking about all of the disabled activists and people before me who stranded themselves on the 4th floor of buildings for weeks and crawled up stairs and fought with airline staff and schools and doctors and refused to stop existing in the face of injustice and bigotry no matter how big and scary and hopeless it seemed. Every time I get angry and scared the protests that lead to the creation of the ADA pop up again and remind me that disabled people are so much fucking stronger than anyone has ever given us credit for, and I can't help but be proud of that. And I know not all disabled people feel like we should take pride in our disabilities and have flags or whatever, but I think not just living, but thriving, in spite of a world that wants us dead and gone, in the face of both illness and persecution, and how we've not only bought ourselves forward, but uplifted the disabled people around us, secured more equal futures for everyone who will come after, and truly changed the way so many abled people have seen us for the better is something to be damn fucking proud of.

We have always been here and we always will be, there will never be a world without disabled people because being disabled is not bad, it's a natural part of the human experience and yeah it sucks some times but even when it sucks we have fought to build beautiful, unique, happy lives with people, both like us and not, and that should be celebrated.

The first sign of human civilization is the healed femur. The body of the profoundly disabled person who would have needed help to even just eat being carefully laid to rest after decades of a full, happy life. The medicinal plants showing even before we were entirely human we were doing what we could to not just survive, but alleviate suffering while we're at it. Above everything, evolution selected not the baby who can walk and eat and be quiet, but the one that can ask for help.

Disabled people are not just angry cockroach motherfuckers who refuse to die, we are proof of humanity's HUMANITY. Proof that natural selection selected a species that takes care of each other. From healed femurs and medicinal plants to vaccines and IVs and insulin to now, we are driven to help one another, we are at our strongest when we don't leave our most vulnerable behind. And I am living proof of that. My mother is living proof of that. Every disabled and chronically and/or mentally ill person I know is living proof of that.

And I don't know about the rest of you, but will carry that shred of humanity's true nature inside me like it's my fucking soul. I am scared and angry and hurt, but I have a lifetime's experience being scared and angry, and I can shake off the kind of pain that would make Atlas crumble to dust like it's nothing but a stiff fucking breeze. Disabled people have always been here, turning fear and anger and pain into joy and beauty and connection, and I'm not going to let everyone who came before me down. I'm not going to give up. Not now, not ever.

It's okay if you're disabled and you've hit your limit, you're too scared and tired and hurt, I won't blame you. But I won't abandon you, either. I might not be able to right all of the wrongs in the world, but I'll be strong, I'll carry all of you with me, I will not give up.

As I've said before, society hates a cripple who won't die, so we must spite them and live anyway.

Please, live anyway. I know if anyone can, it's us.

[irisintheafterglow]

touya todoroki completes community service hours at an aquarium.

your supervisors, understandably, were adamantly against having the convicted criminal anywhere near the facility, its staff, and its animals. however, after being reassured time and time again that he wouldn't be working in public areas, you were assigned to be his unofficial parole officer (or off-fish-er you called it) because of your hydrokinetic quirk. not only were you responsible for watching a criminal, you were also the first line of defense in case he decided to make the facility into a seafood boil.

you'd better be getting a stellar letter of recommendation after all this.

as luck would have it, word spread quickly among aquarium staff about the new volunteer and his...messy...history. you received many texts wishing you good luck and stating that you're in many people's prayers as if working with him would be a death sentence. but, to your surprise, your first day with touya is actually...not terrible.

"you're doing a nice job. you can cut them into larger chunks if you want," you recommend kindly as he slices pieces of shrimp and fish for the penguins and drops them into the gray bucket.

"don't want them to choke," he mumbles almost imperceptibly. from what you've heard about him, touya was physically incapable of shutting up and always had some snarky insult to mutter under his breath. the man you were working with, however, kept his thoughts to himself and only engaged you with curt acknowledgments of tasks. "these got bones in 'em still?"

"digestible ones, yeah," you confirm, a little confused about why he's so curious. he struck you as the type of guy to just work and finish his assignments with as little energy exertion as possible. but here he was, concerned for the animals' safety even when he hadn't even seen them yet. "we just need to cut them up because some of them try to swallow the big ones whole, and we don't need them blocking their throats."

"how many are there?"

"the penguins?" he hums in assent, never taking his eyes off the precise cuts on the food. "i think our colony is a few dozen, maybe twenty-two?"

"do they get along well?"

"some of them are a little feistier than others," you admit with a fond smile. "but the majority of them are really sweet. you'll see when you meet them."

"meet them?"

"you're not walking out with me, of course," you quickly correct. "my shift lead's gonna have my head on a stake if you so much as show a finger to the public." he nods, an odd sort of quiet falling between you two that was more awkward than the previous silence. if you knew any better, you would interpret his expression for disappointment. "there's one recovering from an illness backstage named peach. she gets fed on her own, but if there's some left over i can take you over there to feed her."

"it's fine. don't wanna bother your routine," he mutters with a shrug, but you catch the renewed glint in his eyes at the prospect of meeting one of the animals personally. after feeding the main colony and not-so-accidentally leaving a few treats at the bottom of the bucket, touya follows you through the back halls of the vet center to peach's holding area.

"be warned, she's one of the feisty ones," you caution him, carefully stepping into the plexiglass-enclosed space. he copies your motions exactly and you're surprised, again, from the great care he seems to take when interacting with the small penguin. "so, all you need to do is hand out the fish to her and let her take it in her beak."

"does she dislike new people?" he asks as peach aggressively inspects his shins, prodding them with her beak when touya tries to step away. "i don't think she likes me."

"it's the opposite, believe it or not; you're making her angry when you try to give her space like that," you reply with a stifled laugh.

"oh. i see." peach continues to slap touya with her fins and poke him until he gives her what she wants, a large chunk of fish straight from his hand. you kneel down next to him when he has a seat on the floor, his eyes curiously observing the spunky bird. "she always this sassy with you?"

"only when she gets jealous," you smile, running your hand over the top of her head. her eyes close in contentment before returning to touya's outstretched food offering. "what do you think?"

"about what?"

"do you think this arrangement is gonna be a nightmare for you?" he pauses and, for the millionth time that day, surprises you with how much thought he put into his actions.

"if everyone i meet is as easy as you and her," he says, gesturing to peach but speaking soft enough to make your cheeks heat, "i think i'll get by."

---

"peach duty today?"

"schedule got mixed around, so we'll be giving her dinner instead of lunch today," you reply and touya hums at your side, an answer that could be considered rude if you didn't already know he was a man of few words.

few words, that is, if he was speaking to anyone other than the animals. after a month of touya shadowing you, you could pick up on the little conversations he had with the different animals he took care of: asking the cownose rays to calm down during feeding time, warning the reef sharks that they might need braces if they keep losing so many teeth (he kept forgetting it was normal for them to lose that many teeth), quietly cheering on the day octopus as he breaks into a jar full of crabs.

"who've we got today?"

"took a hell of a lotta convincing, but my boss is letting you meet my best friend today," you inform him. touya walks in step beside you like he'd memorized the fishy-smelling back halls of the aquarium, barely sparing passing wary staff so much as a glance. you'd be intimidated, too, if he wasn't your partner; he was formidable in his favorite blue windbreaker with his hands stuffed casually in its pockets that subtly accented the lean muscle in his arms. not that you were paying much attention to his body, anyway.

"and who would that be?"

"her name is donna, but i call her mama donna." he follows you down a corridor he'd never taken before, toward the very back of the medical wing. "take that hall on the right and change into a wetsuit; i'll meet you back over here, okay?"

"why do i need to change?"

"well, because you're getting in the water with me."

shit.

it's the first time touya hesitates in a long time when you beckon him to join you in the shallow pool. you'd already summoned donna, who was much larger of an animal than he expected. you said she was an adult zebra shark, but all he could register is the tiny tank of brown sacks the size of his hand just outside the walls of the pool.

"i don't think it's the best--"

"get in the water, touya, or i'm gonna report you for insubordination," you interrupt, waist-deep in the water. you don't mean it, of course, but you did need a hand with donna if you were going to check on the status of her eggs.

"i shouldn't be in the water with her, 'specially if she's a mother."

"what, you got something against moms?" he flinches and you suddenly regret speaking so brashly, something about his reaction indicating that you'd hit a nerve. "sorry, that was insensitive--"

"i don't wanna hurt her if i..." his voice trails off and he looks down at his scarred hands, the tissue dark enough to almost match the color of his wetsuit. "it's better for everyone if i don't get close to her if she's vulnerable." you wait for him to look you dead in the eyes before answering.

"i wouldn't bring you to meet her if i didn't think you were ready, touya," you begin gently. "i don't think of you the same way as the rest of the staff because you've proven that you're different from the gossip."

"but what if i--"

"did you forget why i'm paired with you in the first place?" donna swims around you impatiently, nudging you with her nose while you continue to convince touya to get in the water. "i'm the only one on staff that can neutralize you, but i know i won't need to."

"how are you so sure?"

"because i hear you talk to them," you state simply, rubbing your hand on donna's nose as her tail splashes your upper body. "your little conversations tell me you care, even if i'm not allowed to be a part of them." you shoot him a wry smile and he finally scoffs, partly a chuckle and partly an exhale; he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath. "i'll drown you if you heat this water by even half a degree, so help me with donna and then we can go visit peach, yeah?"

---

you'd fallen into an unexpectedly fond partnership over the course of your six months of touya-duty. he was a pretty damn good listener, letting you boss him this way and that and only retaliating with a lighthearted eyeroll. on certain occasions, he would open up about his history, and you followed along intently. he insisted on doing the heavy lifting and opening every door for you, even if you weren't carrying anything. he remembered every animal by name and could tell apart the most similar looking creatures, pointing out their differences with an expression that screamed 'is it not obvious?' towards the end of his assignment, you both faced an unexpected surprise.

his family came to visit.

well, not all of his family, only the ones touya maintained somewhat of a relationship with. in the times he'd opened up, he briefly mentioned his now-graduated little brother, shoto, and the work he'd done to mend the tears between him, his mother, and his other siblings. you consider it a blessing that only his mother and siblings appear when you round the corner to the 'vip only' waiting area (from your talks, you'd also learned it'd be on sight if touya's retired father stepped on the property). he freezes when he sees his family as the guests who would be shadowing him, becoming uncharacteristically stiff as petrified wood.

"welcome, todoroki family. i'm so glad you could join us today," you greet with a polite smile. only when your hand gently settles on touya's shoulder, the reminder of your presence melting the chill in his veins, does the tension in his body dissipate. "touya? d'you wanna introduce me to your family?" he glances at you, your unwavering trust in him, and his eyes soften as he nods.

"yeah," he affirms quietly. "yeah, i can do that."

"doing great, partner," you whisper once you're acquainted with the family and on the move, heading toward the back halls of the tropical gallery. "i'll only talk if you need me to, today, because i want this to be about you and them."

"but you're not gonna leave me, right?"

"wouldn't dream of it," you reassure him, something in your heart stumbling when he gives you an easy smile. as the day goes on and touya guides his family through the back corridors of the facility, he's able to ramble about all the knowledge he'd acquired while working with you. at each exhibit, he points out every species with total accuracy and shares his favorite quirks about certain animals. you have a front-row seat for the way his eyes, usually so molten and intense, have a star-like quality to them when he talks about his new friends, the abalone and the otters and the sea bass. his family observes him in awe, and you catch his mother watching you watch him several times. touya ends the day by introducing peach, his self-proclaimed 'number one girl,' and helping his family with her nightly feeding. though all the todoroki siblings struck you as reserved when you first met them, their conversations were full of life as they walked ahead and you trailed behind with his mother.

"this suits him," rei states with a thoughtful smile.

"i'm biased, but i agree," you reply. she fixes you again with that curious stare, analyzing you. "do i have fish scales on my face?" she laughs and shakes her head.

"no, i'm just indebted to you for getting through to him." you blink, taken aback by her genuine response. "being with you makes him happy. i haven't seen him like this in a long while." she turns back to her children, walking in one raucous group and making plans to get dinner after his shift. "he doesn't talk with them like this often."

"i imagine it's all a mother would want after everything they've been through, if i may," you add and she hums in agreement.

"it is. it's also why, i hope you wouldn't mind," she trails off and her eyebrows pinch slightly, like she's thinking of something worrisome. "if he could stay here."

"of course. i've noticed that he has a knack for husbandry, so--"

"he wants to stay with you," she cuts in, her voice soft as powdered snow. "and i'd like him to stay with you, if it means we can see him more like--"

"this," you finish for her, gesturing to the pile of adult men wrestling each other just ahead, their sister shaking her head from afar. rei sighs, her smile turning sad.

"exactly." before you can give her your reply, touya has escaped his brothers and approached to steal you from his mother.

"if you take those double doors and turn left, you'll end up in the gift shop. wait there and we can get dinner once i'm off," he tells rei, taking her hand and squeezing it once. "i won't be long." she nods and joins her other children, leaving you alone with touya in front of the staff-only window of the sea lion pool. the fading afternoon light catches in the water's rippling and sends a soft beam of light across the cavern. the largest of the lions, boris, floats from below to observe you and touya standing in front of his tank.

"he moves like a slinky," touya states and you can't help but laugh.

"he does move like a slinky, you're right." you turn to him and find he's already looking back at you, not boris. "i loved meeting your family today," you offer in the silence that makes the heartbeat in your ears sound so much louder. "they're very sweet, especially your mother."

"what were you two talking about while we were away?"

"she wanted to show me baby photos," you tease and he gives his signature eyeroll. "but really," you inhale and steady yourself, "she was saying how much this suits you."

"i'd have to agree," he murmurs, his eyes glowing like dying embers. you're close enough to smell him, smoky and rich and only the slightest bit like fish. the proximity feels comforting, like home. "if...if you'd let me--"

"stay with me," you blurt. he blinks at you, the rosy color on the tips of his ears standing out against the bright white. "i-i want you to stay with me." you wait and the quiet stews, nothing moving except slinky-like boris in the water beside you. touya's reply is barely above a whisper.

"i want to stay with you." you release a shaky exhale and let your head fall forward against his chest, steadied by his arms securing themselves around your waist. your hands slide over his shoulders and rest at the nape of his neck, fiddling with the tuft of hair at its base. "please let me stay with you," he breathes in your ear. his arms flex as his grip tightens, like you'd turn to water if he held you too loosely. touya feels like his heart is rattling in his ribcage, bouncing around uncontrollably the longer he has you in his arms. he hasn't felt his chest ache like this before.

"yes, i want you to stay with me," you confirm and he melts into you, breathing you in like fresh oxygen.

"for how long?"

"as long as you'd let me," you answer honestly. the corner of his mouth turns upward in a teasing smirk.

"and if i said forever?"

"then i guess i'd have to oblige," you beam. your hands cup his face, tracing the seam of his scars, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours. it's careful, the first time he kisses you, and he's terrified you'd slip from his fingers. but you don't disappear, so he lets himself lace your fingers with his and drag you out to the rest of his loved ones, hand-in-hand and finally feeling like he can do something good.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[iwtv-theories]

Similarities between Daniel & Armand (analysis)

In the iconography: 20 y old Daniel is on his knees (and 20 y old Amadeo is on his knees in the painting). I also have to point out that young Daniel has a startling resemblance to the white-washed Amadeo painting as well. A visual cue that they’re more alike than meets the eye.

"Bartering with desire" vs "in kind". At 20, both were 'rent boys'. Daniel 'bartered' himself for dr*gs. While Armand was 'donated...in kind' to pay for art work . "In kind" = payment in goods or services as opposed to money. "Bartering"= trade by exchanging one commodity for another. 

At the end of Louis' interviews both get their heads shoved into walls.This could be visual symbolism : both their ‘minds are broken’ because both of them can’t recall a decade’s worth of memories. Ironically, Louis may know more of his own story , than Daniel or Armand .

"curiosity"

“An instinct to self efface" . Effacement :“to erase oneself from a situation (to keep oneself in the background ) ” . Cough Armand literally erasing himself from memories & his Rashid disguise. Interestingly, out of all the traits Armand lists about Daniel this is the one trait Daniel agrees is true about himself. Both of them use ‘self-effacement’ as a manipulation tactic to find connection with others. Armand does so to stay with Louis. Daniel uses it to "get angles” and get people to "open up" to him. Literally right after Daniel said this he almost got Armand to open up about his life story

Armand:" That warrants investigation" vs Daniel the "investigative journalist".

Daniel & Armand lounging on the couch and saying Louis is being overly dramatic XD

being turned while having terminal illnesses : Parkinson's (Daniel) & in the show an unknown illness (for Armand) . Similarly , in the books Daniel was turned due to alcohol poisoning and Armand due to being poisoned.

Armand says in ep 4 his memories as a human are “fragments” vs Daniel saying his memories from the 70s-80s were a “blur” .

Both are called “boy” despite being old men. Santiago, the youngest coven member referring to the oldest : “I don’t know what the boy sees in him.” Louis: “he looked like a boy masquerading as a gentleman.” Daniel: “I’m not your f*cking boy! I’m an old man with all the triggers that come with it.” Daniel : “save it for the rent boy.” Armand looking visibly triggered by the comment then asking to leave the room . Armand to Marius (who often called him “boy”) : “I hate you! I’m a man and you deny it!”

As a human , book Amadeo had a drinking problem while book Daniel almost died of alcohol poisoning. Young Daniel (in the show) may also have drinking issues like his book counterpart /book Amadeo. Armand to Daniel in episode 5 : “a genteel drinking problem , like your father .” Armand’s dad : “Ivan the drunkard… Ivan was hopeless. Ivan would never see another sober night or day .Ivan would die soon poisoned by liquor./ a soft prayer for my father that he would not freeze to death tonight as he had almost done so many times, falling down drunk as he did in the snow. (*this echoes human amadeo getting so drunk he fell into the canal)”

Show Armand says Marius called him his "beloved Amadeo", which seems like foreshadowing/an easteregg of 70s dm since "beloved" was his nickname for Daniel in the books. Armand tries to emulate the Marius/Amadeo dynamic in his future relationships since he still equates it to love. Like how he tries to put himself in the Amadeo role with Louis as his 'Maitre (master) '. But for d.m he put Daniel in the Amadeo position (partially because it’s his first relationship with a human , since becoming a vampire and his relationship with Marius is the only vampire/human relationship he’s had) . So at least on some superficial level he recreates some aspects of the Marius/Amadeo dynamic, with Daniel .

In the books Marius feeds human Amadeo his blood, like Armand does to human Daniel. In the books amadeo says Marius’ blood tastes like “honey”.Cough- Louis describing Armand's blood as tasting like "honey" and Armand saying to Daniel in ep 5 "like honey on your tongue" (*this could be foreshadowing he will drink Armand's blood in the 70s/80s… or simply when he was turned).

Armand , during their first encounter, says “it’s okay it’ll be like a bath ” after he uses a rag (to remove the dried blood from his neck). This reminds me of when Marius first met amadeo and used a rag to clean his face / give him a bath. “He bathed me slowly . He had a soft gathered cloth with which he wiped my face.”

Human Amadeo/daniel were incredibly sarcastic and snarky to their future vampire makers

In the books, when Armand reunited with Marius in Tva he mumbled annoyed “same old tricks”. In tqotd , when Daniel reunited with Armand he says “same old dance.”

And both of their makers abandoned them

The parallels between Armand/Daniel persist throughout ep 5 , Daniel says he’d be a good companion to Louis because he has traits similar to Lestat and Claudia . 

But the IRONY is throughout the whole episode we see Daniel has A LOT of similarities to Armand . Possibly laying the groundwork for devil's minion in the 70s-80s.

I think while Armand was reading Daniel’s mind -whether it was as subconscious or conscious - it irritated him even more that they had so much in common. Or at least how similar Daniel was to Amadeo. Especially because he was trying to discern why Louis found him “more fascinating” .

For Example , all the other traits Armand lists out about Daniel’s could also be attributed to himself

'Dirty'

'deceitful'

'Enterprising'

'A splinter of coldness ' .

“He wants you in pieces for the privilege of putting you back together “

There’s also other more superficial similarities like Daniel saying he’d do night swims if he was a vampire (similar to Armand who swims often). Or the fact they both read the newspaper often.

I feel one of the MANY reasons Daniel and Armand were probably constantly butting heads and being snarky to each other in the present timeline is because on some subconscious level they remind each other of themselves (and they don’t want to acknowledge that). Especially Armand who is constantly playing a new character to placate his lovers . Young Daniel definitely reminded him of Amadeo . Similar to how Claudia reminded Armand of his past self as well .  

If I missed anything feel free to add to the comments or in a reblog :P

[ailoda]

updated: 21.12.24

ᯓ★ mob!au

Run For Your Life (❤✘): he was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: stalking tendencies)

Passionfruit (❤✘): you spend a well deserved lazy day with your mafia husband and son… plus Bucky getting a little handsy. (@kurogxrix)

Look Don't Touch (❤): you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight-fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be. (@kurogxrix)

The Alchemy (❤❅✘): about a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, possessive behaviours)

4 Minutes (✘): you and Bucky had limited time to spend intimately during the past few days, leaving you both extremely sexually frustrated. When your son’s occupation offers you 4 minutes of free time, Bucky’s damn adamant on making your legs shake in less than 3. (@kurogxrix)

Protector (❤✧): ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with. (@cherryrogers) (warning: mild violence, assault, stalking, mentions of illness, death)

Honey, There Is No Right Way (❤❅✘): when you agree to be the feared mobster Bucky Barnes’ sugar baby, you expect to get enough money to pay your bills. what you don’t expect is to fall head over heels for him. (@bonky-n-steeb)

A Love For The (P)ages (❤): Bucky might be the baddest mob boss in the city but he’s the softest and sweetest husband in the Universe. (@jobean12-blog)

Stealing Hearts (❤❅✘): his mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist. (@sinner-as-saint)

Come Home (❤✘): Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you… (@sinner-as-saint)

I Am Your Fall (❤❅✘): you’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because… he would find you, and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you, after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you. (@sinner-as-saint)

Fallin' For Ya (❤): Bucky finds himself standing in front of your door with a bouquet of roses, wondering when he’s ever allowed his stone-cold mafia heart to fall in love with you. (@kurogxrix)

Yours To Wield (❤❅✘): with the enemy threatening to obliterate your family, you’re left with no choice but to take the hit just so he would spare your loved ones. Belonging to a mafia family requires sacrifices to be made at every step, and in order to save your family you make the ultimate one - you offer yourself up to the enemy. Bucky Barnes isn’t a man one negotiates with, he owns this city and whatever he says is considered law. But when you come to him with an irresistible offer, he bends his own rules for you. What starts out as an agreement becomes so much more, and the two of you find love where it wasn’t supposed to be. But rare are the love stories which don’t include some sort of war. (@sinner-as-saint)

new! Lover Boy (❅✘): it's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky. (@cryptidcasanova)

new! Starting Over (❤❅): when Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (@sashaisready)

[winwintea]

that's okay

PAIRING ↬ academic rival!na jaemin x ace!female reader

TAGS ↬ fluff, romance, slight angst, academic rivals to lovers au, college au, fake dating au, jaemin = campus playboy, drunk decisions, art museum date, plushies because i want a plushie, jaemin is kinda whipped fr

SUMMARY ↬ you're determined to outshine your academic rival na jaemin, the campus heartthrob infamous for his frivolous reputation. but when a few too many drinks suddenly ropes you into a fake dating scheme with jaemin, you realize that there's much more to him than his playboy persona. can two opposites navigate a connection that’s anything but fake?

WORD COUNT ↬ 3.7k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lotties-readings !! grinding this fic in a day was so fun. the 3 am brain creativity actually carried this time too. hope i did him justice 😭😭 SHOUTOUT TO THE ASEXUAL COMMUNITY I LOVE YALL <33 THIS ONE'S FOR YOU !!!!

PLAYLIST ↬ cooler than me - mike posner, anti-romantic - txt, are you satisfied? - marina, that's okay - d.o.

WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?

Na Jaemin. The Playboy. He’s probably slept with half of the school and the rumors are on and off with him. The college’s infamous frivolous playboy, a firm believer of the ‘hook up as much as you can before you find your soulmate!’ ideology. For some, it was oddly endearing. For you? Maddening. Because Na Jaemin wasn’t just a playboy. He was your rival. Jaemin just had this certain charm to him that attracted the masses. Everyone, including your friends, had had a crush on him at one point in their lives. Everyone except you. Despite his supposedly carefree attitude, he always ranked #1. And you? Stuck perpetually at #2, clawing at his heels, only for him to breeze past like it was nothing. If it were anyone else, maybe you wouldn’t care so much. But no—it had to be him.

You swore to steer clear of him. No parties, no flirtations, and certainly no personal involvement. That resolve lasted until one ill-advised college party, where Jaemin, drunk and absurdly charismatic, roped you into the lead role of his most ridiculous performance yet: his fake significant other. And you were equally as drunk to play along with it, nodding in the face of his ex-girlfriend as she looked at the both of you in disbelief. For a playboy like Jaemin, you thought he was managing to control his dating life better than this. But you guess he just got bored of being surrounded by love.  “Just go with it,” he’d said. You hadn’t thought it would last beyond that night.

You were wrong.

You suppose it’s partly your own fault finding yourself in your current situation, considering the recent events. In a world where everyone is busy chasing after time, enjoying the dating scene, you’re an outcast. An outcast with false modesty to trick people’s curiosity. You should be used to them by now, their comments about you not being interested in relationships. And even though you do feel fed up with it, the thought of lying about dating someone just so they can shut up never crossed your mind.

“Remind me again why I have to spend the whole day being your pretend partner.” you say, glaring as Jaemin hands you a pastry. “The party doesn’t start until 10PM tonight!” 

“Here you go, love. Be careful, it’s hot!” he says, completely ignoring your question. He resumes walking, hands in his pockets, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, resuming your slow stroll in the garden of a nearby art museum. You hurriedly take it from his hands if that would make him finally pay attention to your question.

“I know it’s hot,” you mutter, taking the pastry anyway. He’s insufferable. Even now, you can tell he’s doing this for show, making a big deal out of playing the doting boyfriend for the strangers milling about the museum garden. “Do you ever actually answer questions, or is that too much to ask?”

“Oh, I answer,” he breezily responds, unfolding a crumpled checklist from his coat pocket. “I’m just selective about when. Do you want to taste mine? I can taste yours too.”

“No thank you.”

Straightening the lapels of his gray coat, Jaemin fetches the brochure handed earlier to him out of his inner pocket and takes a quick look at it to make sure you checked out everything of interest in the area before entering the museum itself. “Now, do you want to check out the sculptures before we head to the main exhibit?”

The guy has a whole checklist of activities for the day. You’ve seen it. He purposely taped another page underneath just to scare you with its sheer length, but you’re seeing right through his tricks, the page is full of gibberish written just to take space. You’ve got your best frown on to keep the illusion of ignorance, hoping that you’d get bonus points for agreeing to go through the full contents of the list, both the real and the fake ones. 

But is it really an act? The occasional tidbits of satisfaction coming from beating Jaemin’s brilliant mind (not that you’d ever give him the credit for it) are hardly enough to keep you entertained throughout the day. When the activities you take on today are meant to be just that, entertaining. And romantic too. 

Now, were you a normal couple, a true couple, then maybe you’d be having fun now.

“Jaemin, I think partners are supposed to listen to each other. At the very least.”

He grins, entirely unbothered by your irritation. “Relax, Y/N. We’re supposed to look like we’re having fun. Couples don’t bicker this much in public, you know.”

“Maybe because real couples actually like each other.”

“And yet,” he says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “Here we are. The picture of romance.” Ah. He’s right, damn it.

“I only lowered my guard because these people don’t know us, stupid… Let’s get inside already!”

Hearing his low, annoying chuckle triggers the sensory neurons in your brain until a neat little image of his smirk is produced with near-perfect accuracy. Have you simply seen it too many times? There’s no escape even when you turn your back to him, great.

You grit your teeth but let him guide you down a quieter path, away from the crowds. It’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. Just one day of playing along, and people will stop speculating about your personal life. Totally worth it.

Right?

Inside the museum, the tension eases slightly. The museum is magnificent to explore with the many pieces of art it houses. There’s so much to see that you’d frankly not mind getting lost in here just to have an excuse to spend more time surrounded by art.

You have to admit, Jaemin chose the perfect dating spot. You’re not sure if it was based on your own preferences. Surely not. But you find yourself not minding it suddenly.

“Picture!” he announces, pulling you close before you can protest.

Hearing the signal, you instantly turn in the direction of the raised-up phone, smiling for the camera as Jaemin presses his face closer to yours.

“Oh, this is a good one, I’m definitely posting it. You look so in love.”

“I’m in love with this work, that’s it.” you say flatly, staring at the painting behind him.

“Uh-uh. That works for me too.” Jaemin replies while his fingers dance across the screen, likely typing some cheesy caption for the picture. A second later your own phone vibrates in your pocket, signaling that he posted the picture and tagged you in it, and you don’t even bother looking.

“At least you’re a natural, Jaemin.”

“What, in faking an expression? How are you so sure?”

You blink, meeting his gaze as some child holding a balloon separates the two of you for a mere second. Instinctively, you shorten the distance so you don’t lose Jaemin, looking for his hand to take hold of. You’ve already been through that today, linking hands in the crowds. And while there was no real need to do that right now, you just did that…

To the question in your eyes evoked from his last words, he smirks and adds, “There are pieces of art here that I look at with fondness just like you do.”

Your heart sinks for a moment, only to create palpitations that mess with your head. You have no idea where they came from or what evoked this feeling in your chest, but while looking anywhere but at Jaemin, your gaze falls on other couples passing by. You were instructed to watch them if you’re having trouble recreating the subtle romantic gestures that indicate dating. Advice from him no doubt, one that you wish you could forget because it’s too late telling your brain to forget what it’s been taught. But the question is, why the sudden turning of stomachs at the sight of them?

While failing to watch your step, you lose your balance and stumble on your own feet, meeting the hard ground hands-first. You feel eyes on you for a short moment; just a mere second any stranger might spare to witness the unfortunate event before moving on with their tour.

That’s it, except for Jaemin, who is there to pull you up in a manner of utmost care, dusting off your clothes, taking you to a more secluded area with benches to rest on and asking you at least three times if you’re alright before you can snap out of your surprised state and let out a murmur of affirmation.

In the whirlwind of emotions rushing through your slightly clouded mind, you put the embarrassment of your fall aside. As Jaemin turns your hand around to inspect it, you realize that no amount of hand-holding numbs your reaction to the touch of his warm hands. 

And no amount of his exaggerated lovey-dovey gestures of affection could prepare you for the look of genuine worry over something so insignificant on his face.

“You fell on your hands, they must be scrapped… let’s get them under cold water, it would wash away the dirt too.” 

“It’s okay I can do it myself.” You back away from Jaemin, running to take care of it.

And that’s when you realize it.

Pretending to be Jaemin’s partner might be the biggest mistake of your life.

Because it’s starting to feel a little too real.

When you exit the bathroom, Jaemin is waiting for you outside, arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. The two of you continue your museum date as normal, nothing out of the ordinary happening other than Jaemin just being Jaemin. 

When lunchtime rolls around, Jaemin takes you into the museum café, refusing to let you pay for anything even though he bought the museum tickets as well. Struggle as much as you want, Jaemin was pretty stubborn.

You and Jaemin sit across from each other, nursing cups of hot chocolate. The quiet buzz of conversation around you blends with the faint classical music playing overhead, the calmness contrasting your otherwise chaotic day.

You’re still nursing your wounded pride (and scraped hands) from earlier. Jaemin’s fussing had been embarrassing, sure, but also... oddly touching. It’s been messing with your head ever since.

“You’re being quiet,” Jaemin says, breaking the silence. He stirs his drink and watches you with another unreadable expression. “Not complaining. Unusual for you.”

“Just tired,” you mutter, avoiding his gaze. “This whole thing is exhausting.”

“Yeah?” He leans back, “What part? The fake dating, or me?”

“Both.”

His laugh is soft, almost self-deprecating. “Fair.”

A moment passes, and you realize he’s studying you. Not with his usual playful smirk, but something more serious. It’s unsettling and scary, like he’s peeling back layers you didn’t even know you had.

“You know,” he starts, voice quieter now, “you’ve always hated me.”

Your head snaps up. “What? I don’t—”

“Don’t lie. I noticed.” he cuts in, but there’s no malice in his tone. “It’s fine. I get it. I mean, I’m Na Jaemin, right? The playboy. The guy who’s ‘probably slept with half the school.’” He uses his fingers to air quote the phrase, lips forming a bitter smile. “That’s what people say, isn’t it?”

You feel a pang of guilt. It’s exactly what you’ve always thought, always assumed about him.

He continues, eyes fixed on his drink. “Funny thing is, that wasn’t true at first. I wasn’t like this in high school. Sure, I was flirty, but it was harmless, y’know? Then one day, someone started a rumor about me. Said I hooked up with some senior at a party.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t true, but people believed it. And once the rumors started, they didn’t stop. Girls came up to me and I just... didn’t say no.”

You blink, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. “Why didn’t you?”

“Why not?” His smile not breaking, “They already thought I was that guy. And honestly? It was easier to play the part than fight it. People liked the idea of me being the ‘fun, no-strings-attached’ guy. I became what they wanted.”

You’re quiet, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. All this time, you’d judged him without really knowing him. And now, sitting across from him, you realize how wrong you’d been.

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

“For what?”

“For... hating you, I guess. I just—” You hesitate, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I’ve never liked the whole ‘playboy’ thing. It feels... shallow. And I don’t understand how people can be so casual about it.”

Jaemin’s gaze softens. “That’s because it’s not your thing. And that’s okay.”

Your eyes lit up with shock. You definitely weren’t expecting Jaemin to be this receptive towards your criticisms of him. “I guess I’ve always judged people like you because I don’t... get it. Sex and dating just seem so complicated and messy. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Jaemin tilts his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You’re ace, right?”

You nod, surprised he remembered. He must’ve heard it somewhere, you barely told anyone except for your close friends. Others just assumed, which was fine by you.

“That’s... honestly kind of cool,” he says, leaning forward. “I mean it. You don’t have to deal with all this shit. Expectations, drama, people using you for what they want. You just... are. I envy that.”

“You do?” The idea feels absurd. Jaemin, envying you?

“Yeah.” He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in it. “I’ve spent so much time being what other people expect. Sometimes I don’t even know who I really am. But you? You’re just you. That’s... rare.”

His words catch you off guard, leaving a strange ache in your chest. You wonder if he’s just been hiding behind a mask this whole time. Who really was the Na Jaemin sitting right in front of you right now? “Well,” you say softly, “I think you’re more than what people say about you.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Careful, Y/N. That almost sounded like a compliment. You’re supposed to hate me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you shoot back, but there’s no hostility in your tone.

For the first time, you see him for who he really is. Not Na Jaemin, the playboy, your rival… but just... Jaemin. And maybe, just maybe, you don’t hate him as much as you thought.

When the two of you finished your museum exploration, you found yourselves in the gift shop. The aisles were packed with trinkets, books, and stuffed animals, the kind of things that were charming but utterly unnecessary and overly expensive. You didn’t plan on buying anything, but Jaemin insisted he wanted to pick up something for a friend.

Shivering slightly, you rubbed your arms, trying to warm up in the chill from the air conditioning blowing down from the vent above.

“Cold?” Jaemin asked, his sharp eyes catching your sudden movement.

“Oh, just the A/C,” you replied quickly, waving him off, but you couldn’t stop the flush creeping over your cheeks.

“Do you want my coat?” He was already starting to remove his gray jacket, but you held up a hand.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you said hastily. “It’ll be warmer outside.”

Jaemin paused, then smirked. “Aren’t you glad your friends dragged you to that party?” He asked, standing right beside you now, picking up a penguin from the stuffed animal bin. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Though I’ll admit, this has been... fun. Even if the ‘fake dating’ part threw me for a loop. And yes, he’s super cute. But penguins aren’t my favorite.” 

He raised an eyebrow, eyes burning into you, as he turned the penguin over in his hands. “Who said it was fake?”

You blinked at him, unsure if you’d heard right. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer, just hummed and walked away, leaving you standing there with your arms crossed, frowning after him. What’s he playing at?

Trying to shake off the odd tension, you wandered to another shelf and found yourself staring at a tower of cell phone plushies. Your eyes landed on a bunny plush, adorable, with floppy ears, sparkling blue eyes, and a pink nose. You reached for it, but so did another hand.

“Oops—sorry,” you stammered, looking up to see Jaemin standing beside you again.

“Oh,” he said, his voice light, but his eyes were unreadable.

“I was just—”

“Which one did you want?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

“The bunny,” you admitted, pointing. “But it’s the last one, and if you wanted it—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed it.

“Actually, I did,” he said, pulling out his wallet and heading to the cashier.

You stood there, stunned and a little annoyed. Seriously? He’s that kind of guy?

As you stared forlornly at the remaining plushies: a raccoon, a squirrel, and a cat that weren’t nearly as cute. You sighed. It’s fine. It’s just a toy. But somehow, it still stung.

“Here.”

You turned to see Jaemin dangling the bunny plush in front of you, a playful grin on his face. “You—I thought you wanted it?” you said as you reached out to take it. The plush felt even softer than it looked.

“I did,” he said with a wink. “But I wanted to buy it for you.”

“I—thank you.” You stumbled over your words, suddenly feeling silly but also oddly happy. A big, goofy grin spread across your face as you hugged the bunny to your chest.

Jaemin chuckled softly. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“Shut up,” you fired back, but your cheeks still burned.

You started to turn away, but Jaemin stopped you with a gentle tug on your sleeve. His expression was different now, serious, almost nervous, as he looked at you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What is it?”

“This... whole fake dating thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. That was strange in comparison to his usual confidence. “It wasn’t just about my ex, or shutting people up. I—I’ve been watching you for a while. I mean, not in a creepy way,” he added quickly, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I just... I’ve always been interested in you. You’re smart, funny, and you don’t care about impressing anyone. You’re... different. In a good way.”

Oh you weren’t expecting that. You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jaemin, I—”

“I know you have concerns,” he said, cutting you off gently. “About... your sexuality, and what people might think. But I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what the world expects or what people say. I care about you. And I’m not asking you to change or be anything other than yourself. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. You didn’t know what to say. You’d spent so long assuming Jaemin was just a shallow playboy, someone who could never understand you. But now, looking into his eyes, you realized how wrong you’d been. Jaemin understood you way too well. Enough to the point where he was hitting all the right points of reassurance in your heart.

“I don’t know if I can be what you’re looking for,” you whispered.

He smiled softly. “You already are.”

For a moment, the world around you faded. The noise of the gift shop, the bustle of other shoppers. It was just you and Jaemin, and the quiet, fragile connection that had grown between you.

Maybe this wasn’t fake after all.

You realized just how much he’d been hiding. Jaemin, the playboy everyone admired, the guy who never seemed to take anything seriously, was opening up to you in a way that was raw, even vulnerable.

“Honestly?” you whispered, clutching the bunny plush to your chest. “I never thought someone like you would understand... someone like me.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. “I get that. I probably don’t fit the part, huh? But, Y/N, you’re incredible just as you are. I think it’s amazing that you know what you want and what you don’t want. I wish I’d figured that out sooner.”

You looked down, feeling way too emotional, “So, you really don’t... mind?”

Jaemin shook his head, his smile was gentle. “Not even a little. I’m here because I like you for who you are. You don’t need to be anyone else or change anything about yourself. I’m fully willing to love you. Just like this.”

His words settled over you, as warm and comforting as his coat might have been. The insecurities you’d held about relationships, about your identity, all the ways you feared you might not be enough for someone. Maybe never even find someone at all? They began to melt, replaced by a quiet sense of peace.

“So... if this isn’t fake, does that mean this is... this date is… real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin smiled, reaching down to take your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours in a way that felt so natural it sent a shiver down your spine. “It’s as real as you want it to be. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, figuring this out together.”

Looking up at him, you felt something you hadn’t quite felt before. This wasn’t about conforming to anyone’s idea of love or romance. It was about connection. And standing there, surrounded by stuffed animals and museum souvenirs, you felt like you’d found something rare.

You squeezed his hand, a small smile breaking across your face. “Alright, Jaemin. Let’s give this a try. Just... don’t go stealing all the last plushies every time we’re out together, okay?”

He laughed, his grin brightening at your words. “Only if you agree to keep that bunny plush with you as a reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Of this moment. And of the fact that someone finds you absolutely perfect, exactly as you are.”

The two of you walked out of the gift shop hand in hand, leaving behind any doubts and stepping into something perfectly real.

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000 @polarisjisung

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.

just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.

Thank you for requesting lovely!

poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words

You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash. 

“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch. 

“Now one with you,” James urges. 

“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?” 

“James has long arms,” you say.

"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."

After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button. 

It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other. 

James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?” 

“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.” 

James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”

“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.” 

The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well. 

“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts. 

“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.” 

You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face. 

“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.” 

“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge. 

“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.” 

“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.” 

“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.” 

“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside. 

“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.” 

��Nope.” 

“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” 

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.” 

“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially. 

“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.” 

Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.” 

“Wimp,” James teases. 

“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?” 

“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

You frown at him. “Why?” 

He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend. 

“James!”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it. 

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!” 

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared. 

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed 

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits 

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him. 

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology 

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm 

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor 

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm 

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral 

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt. 

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients 

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth 

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession 

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs. 

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

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