#i just think about WHY he decided to adopt a non white child and why a good portion of the ppl he surround himself with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannahhook7744 · 2 years ago

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Saving Christmas!

Summary; Ben finds out why Chad and Audrey aren't going home for Christmas this year and decides that he's going to save Christmas for his old friends. Takes place around d1. Trigger warnings; mentioned death, unintentional neglect, emotional abuse, sick child, unintentional favoritism, sick child, etc.

🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🤶🧑‍🎄

"Hey what are you guys doing for Christmas break this year?" Ben asked one day over lunch.

It was a particularly wintery December 1st when the question was asked and Jane, Doug, Lonnie, and four very excited vks answered almost immediately.

Mal and Jane were going to the Moors with FG to celebrate it.

Doug and Evie were going over to Snow White's castle with his family to celebrate.

Lonnie and Jay weren't celebrating but still had plans.

Lonnie was going home to visit her family.

Jay was going to Agrabah after being invited to by Aziz and Jordan.

And Carlos was going to be spending it in London with the Radcliffes after their niece, Amber, had sent him an invite.

After sharing that his grandfather was coming over to celebrate it with him, Ben noticed something.

Audrey and Chad had been eerily silent for the conversation.

And looking back, it didn't take Ben long to realize that Chad hadn't spoken much all morning.

"What about you two? What are you doing?" The brunette asked, shooting the two a sweet smile.

Thinking that they were just getting put off by the new group dynamics again. After all, it did take some getting use to —going from a tight knit group of six friends to ten almost overnight.

And Chad always did have trouble warming up to new people.

"Uh, we... aren't celebrating this year" Audrey replied, uncharacteristically awkward when it became apparent that Chad wasn't going to.

The blonde hadn't looked up from his tray to acknowledge any of them since they sat down and was just playing with his food, looking downtrodden.

The amount of prunes, chocolate pudding, and pizza on his plate had stayed the same despite the fact that lunch was nearly over. His pumpkin spice latte hadn't been touched either.

Ben couldn't help but feel concerned now that he noticed it. After all, the prince never turned his favorite foods down but here he was. Doing just that.

And the fact that he and Audrey now apparently weren't celebrating Christmas—THEIR FAVORITE HOLIDAY—either was just worsened the concern he felt.

Apparently he wasn't the only one feeling that way either.

"WHAT?!" Jane yelped, "but you guys love Christmas!"

"Yeah. What's going on?" Doug added.

He and Chad had slowly began repairing their friendship after Ben's coronation after Chad had apologized to all of them for his behavior over the year. Plus their families usually spent Christmas together since Snow White was Chad's (non-fairy) godmother.

No one had mentioned anything about plans changing to him.

Audrey gave them a tired look– as if almost asking 'really?' Before sighing and halfway giving in to their questions.

"Grammy is still upset that Ben and I didn't work out, Ariana is smug about it and has a new prince boyfriend, and my parents, aunt, uncle, and fairy Godmothers are too busy to attend this year. And since I really don't feel like being criticized over every little thing this year with no one there to buffer it, I've decided to stay at school with Chad."

No one was quite sure how to react to her snappish response. But the vks– Evie especially– looked downright murderous. But instead of commenting after a few painfully long silent moments, Jay decided to prod some more.

"And you can't just celebrate with Chad, why?"

Audrey shot the thief a harsh glare, confirming everyone's suspicions that she had been avoiding the question, before begrudgingly answering. "Because Chad has absolutely no motivation to decorate because this will be his first Christmas without his grandfather, Prudence, and Duke who died before the school year started since before he was adopted."

Ben got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he glanced over at his oldest prince friend. Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

Suddenly the pudding on his own tray didn't seem as appetizing anymore.

Surely he hadn't gotten so caught up in his kingly duties that he had forgotten to check in on his fellow prince to see if he was doing alright? And surely he had checked in on Audrey after the love spell wore off?

Looking back at the events of the school year and Chad's and Audrey’s behavior made him realize that he had, in fact, dropped the ball on this one. But before he could say anything, Doug spoke up.

"But, uh, why isn't Chad going home? Not that I don't understand he's upset—" he said quickly after the hard stare the princess gave him—"It's just that he and his family usually spend the holiday at Aunt Snow's with my family and Jane's, and besides Fg and Jane, no one's mentioned a change in plans."

Audrey gave a long sigh. "Doug, his sister has a heart condition, remember?"

He nodded, likely wondering—like the rest of them were—what Chloe had to do with anything.

Audrey continued.

"Well, because of that, it's dangerous for her to get sick because it can weaken her heart more. So their parents decided that with the Pixie flu going around that it's best that they stay home. And since Chloe is going to be in bed and his parents are probably gonna continue to try and get the Tremaines off the isle nonstop even more than they did before your proclamation the entire holiday, Chad decided it's best he doesn't return either. You know, since he could get his sister sick and will probably just get overlooked while he's there. "

Doug caught on "which also means that we can't visit them at the castle cause we could get Chloe sick if we do. And Chad doesn't want to make Chloe feel bad by going anyway."

Ben swallowed.

He hadn't thought about that.

Suddenly Chad behavior paired with his unkempt hair and him still being in pajamas made much more sense.

Chad was feeling forgotten again. And this time, only Audrey had been around to try and keep him out of it.

It was like Chloe being born all over again, except this time no one had caught onto how he was feeling and people had actually died.

And Audrey had been suffering in silence alongside him.

He had to fix this.

For both of them.

So he said the first thing that came to mind "why don't you two come and celebrate it at my place?"

Everyone stared at him like he'd grown another head.

Chad looked up and Ben felt even more confident in his decision.

"Ben, I don't think that's a good idea," Audrey replied softly.

"Why not? It's not like you haven't stayed at our place before."

"Your parents hate us."

Ben shook his head. "That's not true. Mom and dad love you guys and grandpa's been dyi–begging to see you two again. "

Audrey didn't know what to say to that and finally, Chad spoke up.

"Well.... If you're sure they wouldn't mind, then we'd like that."

Ben grinned in response "I'm positive. Trust me."

The bell rang before the conversation could continue any further and as the group flooded out of the cafeteria, their moods lifted.

🧑‍🎄🤶🎅🧑‍🎄🤶🎅🧑‍🎄🤶🎅🧑‍🎄🤶🎅🧑‍🎄🤶🎅🧑‍🎄🤶🎅

Big thanks to @eahravinqueen and @panthera-tigris-venenata for the help. Happy Holidays y'all.

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biarritzzz · 5 months ago

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2021 u.s. pull out of Afghanistan opened my eyes, coming from an abusive Muslim background, I knew the evil of Islam, and extremism. Seeing white women bullied viciously online for saying they support the afghan women and girls to be brought to the west, (but not the men for obvious reasons) woke me up. The left doesn’t care about women’s safety and the amount of think pieces and infographics about white women being evil and racist for not welcoming afghan men with open arms was the last straw. As a non white woman I never thought they were being racist and always would support white women over misogynistic abusive pigs regardless of their color. A white woman never hurt me.

Feminists saying they only want Afghan women and no Afghan men are virtue-signaling.

This isn’t a policy that can realistically be enacted. How does it work exactly? Afghan women are ok with leaving their brother/father/uncle/husband behind? Yeah, right. And their father/uncle/husband are ok with letting them travel on their own to a Western country? Please.

Such a policy would be denounced as discriminatory anyway. If we take Afghan women, we have to take the men too. So I say we take no one.

Afghans have been wreaking havoc in Western Europe these past few years: not a week goes by that an Afghan male doesn’t rape, kill, assault. Afghan culture is horrifying and unbelievably backwards yet politicians in Europe tell us: no, we can’t send them back home (why the fuck are they coming in the first place) because the Talibans are there boohoohoo. As if Afghans oppose the Talibans on principles. It’s just tribal shit, they’re all deeply dangerous and violent.

The other day I stumbled upon this article in a magazine where a famous Belgian writer was talking about her trauma: at 12 years old she was raped by 4 men on a beach. I was horrified then thought: hang on… this can’t have happened in Europe. It’s only at the very end of the article that it’s revealed that it occurred in Bangladesh (her parents were diplomats there). I’m not saying that pedophilia, incest and rape don’t exist in Europe obviously, just that this type of public rape where men behave like fucking animals with a child is normalized in countries where little girls marrying grown men is legal, where women just walking around in public without a man by their side are fair game. Indian/Pakistani men make arab and black men look almost normal (almost being the operative word).

Years ago, I had this job in a company that did logistics. My stupid POS boss had the brilliant idea of hiring a few Bangladeshi men because he wanted cheap labour. Their job was to load the trucks. These men were creepy as fuck and the rare times I encountered them, I would always walk fast and limit eye contact. One day I made the mistake of answering one of them who asked me for the time. I stop, look at my watch and that is when one of them grabs me and pulls me toward him. Strong grip, I couldn’t let go. He decided that because I had stopped and talked to him I was fair game. I screamed and finally managed to get away. He thought that was funny and that I was playing with him. This is their ‘normal’ behavior.

These countries are sordid shitholes and the people inhabiting them are insanely dangerous and backwards. For women and for children (and for men as well). The idea that they’re going to adopt our western values just because they moved to the West is utterly preposterous and in a normal world anyone suggesting it would be laughed out the room.

If you are a white woman/girl you have a target on your back because to these men, you are a literal prostitute since the only times they’ve seen a white woman is through porn. Gang bangs especially. Porn websites publish data that show which country watches what type of pornography and the results are as illuminating as they are horrifying.

There is a fundamental civilization incompatibility that the corrupt European elites (left, right, center) don’t care about because it’s about greed, growth and destruction of Europe and the fact that it endangers Europeans and specifically women doesn’t matter to them.

Since you say you are from a muslim background, I assume you live in the West now. So your family came with you. If you came, then so did the men of your family and mathematically this puts Western women in danger (‼️).

#we are so fucked #Europe is fucked

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loganofthenorth · 2 years ago

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Puzzle Piece

It's a cruel kind of irony,

That the puzzle piece is used to represent,

The struggle to fit in disorder.

It's even more ironic, for me,

Because of how I present,

Because of my lack of rules,

Lack of resentment,

Lack of interaction or tools,

Lack of culture.

See, my mother's great grandfather and grandfather were indigenous.

Her great grandfather was a residential school survivor

Both of them were drunks.

Her father was raised as white

He was also a drunk,

but unlike the other two he stuck around with his family

Or... tried to

It's a whole mess of complicated really

My mother's family tree is a chaotic mess

We aren't strangers to adoptions,

Divorces,

Multiple marriages

It's hard to know who's related to who

Especially when there's thousands of people with our last name

See Johnston is a last name that was given to my Mom's great grandfather

Because they couldn't pronounce his real name

We don't know much about him

We don't know much about them because they were never around, and the other members of the family didn't like to talk about them.

So, we might as well be white.

My Mother is more indigenous in appearance than I am

She was raised with religion, but it never made sense to her.

It's funny really

I don't think anyone was there to teach her the spiritual beliefs that indigenous people had

She just came to the conclusion that she wanted to believe in that on her own

But she doesn't know the rituals, the rules, the culture

She just does what feels right for her.

And that's great

And she taught me to do the same, to decide for myself what I believe

So the only thing I know about religion is from what pop culture tells me

What I know about Angels comes from fantasy stories

I thought Elves were just humans with pointed ears that lived longer

But apparently there's something religious involved

I thought Fairies were just humans with wings and magic

But Fae are more complicated, and again, religion is involved

The more I learn about Fantasy, the genre I love to write, and the more I learn about politics and other cultures,

The more I become overwhelmed wondering

What am I allowed to write?

See, when I first heard about cultural appropriation, it upset me.

It upset me that people would get upset with you if you did something from a culture that didn't belong to you.

I wasn't sure why it upset me so much

I dismissed it as being an ignorant white girl that needed to dismantle my beliefs and rebuild them

I know what oppression feels like because I'm disabled. I don't want to accidentally be oppressing someone else by stealing their culture

But, the more I learned about other cultures, and all their rules, and all the every day things that had to come from somewhere

The more I realize how much culture is tied to everything

And the world is not a free for all where you can choose what you want to believe

If you want to be part of a culture you have to learn and follow all its rules before you can apply anything from it to your daily life

At least that's what it seems

And that's all so overwhelming to me

Because as an Autistic Person learning basic social rules was already a traumatizing struggle

I do feel a calling to spiritual beliefs

But my skin is white

My features are Scottish and French

My eyes are light coloured

And I can't learn other languages for the life of me

I feel like I'd be intruding if I tried to learn the indigenous culture

And I'm not saying that anyone who holds such strict barriers to their culture is making me a victim

Nor am I saying my Mom was wrong to not teach me a religion

If I were taught the Christian Religion, the one that I suppose is appropriate for a white English speaking person to learn, knowing how I was as a child I would have become extremely committed to it, to the point where both religious and non religious people shut me out.

It would have become my special interest,

But I probably would have been deeply hurt and betrayed by those who took the message of 'Love Thy Neighbour' and instead spread hate.

If I were raised Christian, I would likely see a large percentage of my religion as a traitor.

And I would feel expected to shun that religion completely in order to feel accepted by communities that also reject those people

So I would be alone regardless.

That's why I'm always trying to find the right label to use for my sexuality

Because I don't feel properly connected to the rules of each label

I don't feel connected to the LGBTQ+ community because they all seemed to know their identity from the beginning, where I never did because I was so busy trying to understand what normal was that I didn't even know being gay was a thing.

Then at around 10-13 I learned what that was and thought I was a straight ally (which, only knowing LGBTQ things from pop culture made me a terrible straight ally, as I know now looking back. I thought it was enough to just want to accept people for who they are, because that's what I knew I wanted, but I didn't know any of the rules so I often got myself into a lot of conflict.) because I didn't have any crushes on girls

I'm still trying to figure out my sexuality really

Still trying to figure out if any of my crushes were crushes or if I just wanted to have a crush so I made one up and turned it into a special interest

Still trying to figure out if the co dependencies I always formed with my friends were me having romantic feelings for them or if I just have really strong romantic love

I'm not sure if I'm aro/ace because I can feel flustered, and I can be attracted to people but it comes and goes

And when friends talk about people they find hot I just become a deer in headlights

And I tend to have trouble writing romance on my own

But that could just be because I don't have enough experience in romance?

It's hard to say...

I grew up in social isolation, on top of all that

My Mom had really bad social anxiety,

And between that and my Autism we didn't attend social events often

And we didn't have enough money for anything outside of school

There was the one year where I had ballet classes, that was the first year I had a real birthday party, with friends and games and cake and everything. I was twelve.

I grew up in an Autism Program

Six kids per classroom, most of them were boys, I was lucky if there was another girl in the classroom, and if there was the teachers would always mix up out names

We only saw the mainstream students when they were misbehaving in the halls or when we went out for recess

Most of the kids in the program were satisfied with just staying friends with others in the program

Not me

I learned social skills from television, and was extremely extraverted

I wanted to be ✨popular✨

What a sad dream that was

I wish I had just been satisfied with befriending the other weird kids

Then again, the weird kids often found me annoying too

See, I could never fit in with Autistic people either

I'm always trying to find out what about me makes it so hard to fit in

The extroverted Autistic with ADHD and severe anxiety, as well as C-PTSD and depression due to trauma.

The white girl with hair too thick to run my fingers through, and thick black hairs found all over my pale skin

With eyes that change colour, from green to brown to gold

With a button nose and round face and crooked teeth and eye teeth that grew in wrong so they look like fangs

Too poor to go to the dentist regularly, but I have a house and a family that can support me in adulthood so I'm technically privledged

Mentally ill but hates horror movies and gore and is sensitive to a good chunk of the things mentally I'll people like to talk about

Doesn't help that I'm an empath

Doesn't help that watching a tv show is extremely draining for me

I'm the white girl with a speech impediment that sounds like an accent

With flapping hands and buzzing sounds I make that people repeat back to me

With a stutter that my brother and father criticized constantly

I talk too fast and too much or I don't talk at all

I get overly attached to things and to people, or I don't care for them in the slightest

I'm not cynical enough to be an athiest

Not faithful enough for religion

Talking about my experience is hard and traumatic and I hate it so being an activist is hard

This was supposed to be a poem but it turned into a rant

Because I always write poems about things that upset me

It's hard

It always feels like I'm doing something wrong

I can never get the rules right

And I've tried not caring about what anyone else thinks

Now I spend my time in the basement of my parents house in the middle of nowhere, writing books that I hope one day can give people the community I didn't get to have growing up

Maybe I'll get a community too for it one day

I have a community now, kind of. People I can share my stories with, who tell me about theirs, and I love that

And this rant isn't because I'm not grateful for that

My life has just been a difficult path to navigate

And I know I should consider myself lucky

For having paths at all

For having food and water as I make the journey

For having shelter along the way

But that doesn't change all the mountains I've climbed

The storms I've walked through

And now I still feel like I'm getting nowhere.

Hopefully, one day, I'll find out where I fit

Until then, I just have to hope that I'm not just the last price of the puzzle that someone lost one day

And will never be found again

#disability #autistic #adhd #writer #nerodiversity #actually autistic #poetry #vent #vent poetry #generational trauma #part indigenous #rant #long post #questioning sexuality

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soulmate-game · 3 years ago

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Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

#dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat #bio!dad au #Bio!mom Harley Quinn #Bio!Dad joker #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Harley’s Plea for Help #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic Harley Quinn x Marinette

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wooteena · 4 years ago

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technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #mcyt au #technoblade #ranboo #nihachu #dream smp #mcytblr #sleepyblr #philza #homophobia tw #bullying tw #violence tw #minecraft youtubers #baby bird au

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mrsavery · 4 years ago

Photo

OUR MIRACLE

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: You give Massimo the most precious Christmas gift that he always has wished but never got.

Word count: 1808

It had been exactly five years since your first Christmas together. Five years filled with love and happiness. The Christmas lights were dancing on the Christmas three, and soft music was playing in the background, as you walked through the empty house with a gift in your hands. It was for Massimo who, at this moment, was away for business but should be home in a few hours.

As you sat is down under the three and looked around the room, you could not stop smiling, knowing that one day things were going to change. You left the room and went to the kitchen, humming ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ under your nose. Since your husband was gone, the house felt empty and foreign, and you were counting hours until his return. The clock on the wall showed that it was only four in the evening, meaning that Massimo would not be home for another three to four hours.

You knew all about his lifestyle, about his work and family. It scared you at first, because you were afraid of his life not yours, knowing that every day could be his last. Never ever in the five years of being together you had been in danger, had been kidnapped or touched by others. Massimo had been doing everything to keep you safe, and he is keeping his promise.

You walked back to the living room and sat on the couch with a cacao mug in your hands. You will wait for your husband here and, while waiting, read a book that you have not been able to finish in a long time. It is a novel that Massimo gave you on your twenty-fifth birthday a few months ago. Your husband knows how much you love reading, and because of that most of his present are books.

One hour passes, then the other and soon you have finished reading the book. You put it in the bookshelf and return to your place on the couch. When ‘Last Christmas’ starts playing in the background, you close your eyes and let your mind take you back to your first Christmas together.

Massimo’s warm hands wrapped themselves around your waist, as he sat behind you on the floor. He put his head on your shoulder and inhaled your scent, like he always did. It helped him to calm down.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him.

“Si.” Massimo replied and afterwards kissed your cheek. “How was your day, farfalla?”

“I talked to my brother a few minutes ago.” You said and looked at the fireplace in front of you. The fire was dancing, and you felt Massimo shifter against you. “He said that my parents still cannot forgive me for leaving.”

Seven months ago, you left home, ran away from your arranged marriage and things that you knew. You were born and raised in a small town in west England where everyone knew everyone. There were two farms in your town, where most of the people worked. One was owned by your father, and the other was owned by the Carter family. They wanted to unite both farms, and the only way how to do it was by marriage. As the Carter family only had a son your age, and you were the first-born daughter in your family, you both were supposed to marry. Jonathan Carter was beautiful, but you did not like him.

You tried everything to get break the arrangement, even gave your place to your sister who wanted to marry Jonathan, but it did not give any results. Jonathan only wanted to marry you, claiming that you were the most beautiful girl in the town. Your brother, seeing tears in your eyes two days before the wedding, helped you to leave. You flew all the way down to Italy and started a new life there.

You missed your family very much, but the life was better for you here. If you tried to return… You did not know how it would end and did not want to find out. You had a new life here, a man who loved you and who took care of you. Massimo was giving you the world, but the pain in your heart did not leave easily.

You felt Massimo’s thumbs on your cheeks wiping away the tears that had fallen. “Everything is going to be alright.” You whispered and turned around to face your boyfriend. You got into his lap, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips softly. You looked into his dark eyes and whispered words that both never have told loud. “I love you.”

Massimo just smiled and kissed you back, this time with more passio. “I love you too, farfalla.”

You opened your eyes when your phone made a quiet sound. You took it in your hands and smiled because it was a message from your brother. He had sent a family picture of him, his wife, and their three years old daughter. You decided to call him in return, and your brother answered almost immediately.

“Hi, Merry Christmas!” You said with a smile.

“Merry Christmas to you too! Did you see the picture?” He asked. You could hear your niece’s laughter in the background.

“Yes, you all look amazing, when Massimo comes, I will show him it too.”

“Where is he?”

“Some unexpected things came up, and he was forced to go to the work. He should be back soon.” Your brother thought that Massimo owned a company and was CEO there. It was a partly true, since he owns a few companies around the world, but he mostly uses it as a cover, because truly he is a Don to the biggest mafia in Europe, but your brother did not need to know that.

“I will hope that Massimo comes home fast. I do not want you to spend the Christmas alone.” He said, and you heard pain in his voice. You have not seen him since your wedding that was four years ago, and both of you wanted to spent time together with your families, but never really had a chance.

“I will not.” You said and put a hand on your stomach. “Alice is growing up fast.”

“Yes, she is. It is like only yesterday she was born… I have been thinking about you and Massimo. You both are happy, but a little child would make things even better. You are already twenty-five, and he is, let me count… thirty-five.”

“We will think about it.”

“I have to go, [Y/N]. Mother is calling. Talk to you soon, alright? And give Massimo my greetings.” You were not able to reply, because your brother ended the call. You as well put your phone away and smiled when you looked outside the window and saw your husband’s car approaching. Massimo was finally home!

You stood up and made sure that room looks perfect, before walking to the front door. Before you could open them, Massimo beat you to it and smiled seeing you. “Hi, farfalla.”

“Hi, Massimo.” You let him take of his jacked and shoes before you ran into his embrace and kissed him with force. You had missed your husband all day, and you could not wait for him to open his present, because it was a tradition for you and Massimo to open presents on Christmas Eve instead of the next morning. “How did the meeting go?”

“I would have been happier to stay home with my wife instead of listening to them.” You chuckled at his answer.

“Nobody is perfect.”

“Only you.” Massimo said kissing your bare neck. “Can we skip presents and go up?’

You turned around and put hands on his chest. He was much taller than you, but the height difference had never been an issue for you. “After you open your present.”

He groaned. “Why does my present is so important? In my opinion, sex with my wife is more important than presents, because you are the biggest present that I have got.”

“Because after you open it, we will be able to go and celebrate.”

Massimo raised his eyebrow to you. “A celebration?”

You nodded and got out of his embrace. You walked to the tree and got out a little blue box that you had placed there earlier. “This is for you.” You said giving it to your husband. You sat down next to him on the sofa, as he slowly opened the present. Massimo undid the white bow tie, then unwrapped the blue wrapping paper, never leaving your eyes.

You smiled at Massimo when he opened the small carbon box in his hands and froze. He took out the white stick that was showing two pink lines and then looked at you. Massimo was too shocked to talk, and his tears were evidence of that.

It was a miracle that you were pregnant. Ten years ago, when Massimo was shot and his father was killed, he got the news that changed his life. He had survived an attempted murder but lost his chance to become a father. The chances of him becoming father were almost non-existent. Over the years he had reconciled that he will not have children, and once Massimo told you that you were free to leave him because of that.

You stayed, knowing that without him, you were nothing. Massimo came into your life as a savior, to save you from the darkness, but in the end, you saved him too. Doctors had said that chances were very low, even with artificial insemination, but you both managed to beat it all and become pregnant without trying.

When you saw these pink lines appear in the morning, you could not stop crying. It was a real miracle that you will always be thankful for. You and Massimo had talked about adoption, but it always ended with a fight and a make-up sex later. As much as you were ready to be a parent, you were not sure that you would be able to love a baby that was not genetically yours. There would always be fear that his or her real parents would show up and take him or her away from you. It would break you, so you both decided that it was not an option.

Massimo took his eyes off the pregnancy test and looked into your eyes that were full of tears too. “I’m pregnant, Massimo. We are going to have a baby!” It took him about three seconds to throw the stick on the glass coffee table and take you in his arms. You were wrapped in his large embrace and your husband’s wet cheek was pressed against yours.

“We are going to have a baby.” He whispered and put one of his hands on your flat belly. “A baby.”

You put your hand over his large one and said. “Our baby.”

farfalla- butterfly

#365 days #365 dni #massimo torricelli #michele morrone #massimo torricelli x reader #365 days imagine #365 days fanfiction #365 days fic

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scorpionyx9621 · 3 years ago

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Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

#Long post GOD #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bat Family #Batman #red hood and the outlaws #RHATO #RH:O #Batman Urban Legends #Red Hood Lost Days #TW Voltron #TW Death #tw murder #TW Klance #Gotta love how i am pouring my heart out onto jason AND calling out the Voltron fandom #Regardless love Jason Todd people

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stupendousconnoisseurpuppy · 3 years ago

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The son's warmth

Yandere! Hinata x Reader

Notes: This is my entry for @seijorhi's Deal with the devil collaboration~

Warnings: DARK CONTENT, Violence detail, injury detail, manipulation, kidnap, yandere.

Please refrain from reading if you are uncomfortable with the above!

That said, please enjoy!

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Generosity. You suppose it could be a bit of a double-edged sword.

Although in hindsight, all you had wanted was to care for the exuberant ball of sunshine you had believed was dealt a bad hand. Parents and younger sister deceased, orphaned at the tender age of 14 and placed in a less than ideal environment - one devoid of love.

You had always been one of a large sympathetic capacity and it had always been a goal of yours, born of the principle’s kindness and compassion, passed on by your parents and sanctioned by your entry into adulthood; allowing you to action your desire to care for a young child struck by tragedy…

You’re not exactly sure, however, how that’d landed you in the basement of your own house with a broken leg and shattered kneecaps.

It was to be expected you'd reasoned at first, you had defied common sense and made a deal with a less than savoury entity.

Too bad you hadn't considered the fact that demons could come in the shape of fair seeming, walking tangerines with an aptitude for overbearing affection.

To his defence (something you’ve now come to consider a very ironic concept) Hinata wasn’t exactly - as far as signatories go - the one you'd even made this... deal with. It had been his orphanage, an institution shrouded in fraud and doused in the bitter aroma of embezzlement that had sealed your fortunes in the form of crisp white adoption papers.

You didn’t mind his clingy nature, the crushing strength of his grip when his hand found - sought - yours… actions that could and would have seemed to untrained eyes like a misplaced and overwhelming sense of desperation, like the shock of betrayal carved upon his features when your focus wasn’t solely trained on him, or the unnerving intensity pooling beneath glittering brown iris’ whenever they met yours during his volleyball matches. Again, this was something you’d chalked down to an amalgamation of a passion for the sport, desire to win and an appreciation for the fact that his beloved mother had come to show him the support he had clearly lacked in the early stages of his teenage years.

After all, what was a guardian without unconditional devotion to their child?

He was the coolness of your eyes whilst paradoxically, providing an all-encompassing warmth (much like the sun) and with an ostensibly boundless supply of energy. Such was the ardour that made your heart swell with pride. It was just a terrible pity – in your case at least - that this energy he had was now being put towards severing your contact with the outside world.

Wanted to go outside? He’d want you to help him practice.

Meeting someone? He’d pout and complain.

How could you refuse? You’d naively attributed such possessiveness to the trauma of losing his family and would excuse such behaviour in consideration of the circumstance. It was only natural. You’d decided to be there for him, accepting the responsibility as soon as you’d inked your name on the dotted line… if he needed a little more attention, that’s what he’d get.

And so, the story progressed until towards the end of his third year of high school, he’d decided the affection you were providing him with, however plentiful, wasn’t nearly as satisfactory as he knew it could be. For you still to be surrounded by others must mean his slice of the pie was diminished in size and a growing boy such as himself needed all the nutrition he could get. He’d reasoned that the entirety of said “pie” belonged to him, anyway. Surely no one could chastise him for exercising a due right over his own property?

He didn’t want to be the occupant of most of your time, he wanted all of it… And it was to be brought to your attention as soon as he arrived home from school.

No sooner had he entered through the front door than he was skipping towards your location (in the kitchen) with a blinding smile on his face, proceeding to grip onto your shoulders with a force that clearly betrayed his cheery demeanour.

“What’s wrong Shoyo?” You queried.

He’d went on to detail how neglected he felt whenever you enjoyed the presence of anyone other than him “It feels like you don’t love me anymore!”, like he’s not good enough, y’know? But it wasn’t your fault, all you needed was the chance to see that he was fully capable of being the only one you needed to depend on.

You were, at first, inclined to think of such proclamations as some silly prank, followed by laughter, declarations of how well and truly you’d been fooled and fabricated in boyish mischievousness. You’d managed to ask as such, but the speed and surety of his response had you becoming increasingly concerned.

“Nope!”

You forced out a nervous puff of laughter, clutching at the rapidly burning straws of denial because surely, he couldn’t be serious, but your dismissal had only served to become the source of his irritation and he squeezed you harder, fixing you with a determined stare that could only have been described as no less than peering into your soul.

You had ignored the red flags and were getting your just rewards.

“Sho- stop that hurts!”

“Reeeeeally Okaa-san?!” He quipped with insincere concern “It hurts more when you don’t care for me…”

It was at this bitter intonation that you’d scrambled back in shock and had prepared your body’s primal function of flight in the direction of the nearest exit.

But were you really going to run away from him? Shoyo, your own child, the coolness of your eyes and springtime in the haggard winter of your life?

Yes, yes you were.

And you would have gotten away with it too, had not the subject of your internal conflict taken advantage of your moment’s irresolution. For in a ginger blur of motion you were on the ground, he had taken a hold of your leg…

SNAP

He roughly covered your mouth to silence the scream, pinning you down with the weight of his own body as hot, fat tears rolled down your cheeks. The pain was excruciating, but you wouldn’t feel it for long, as with a swift hook to the jaw you were out cold. It hurt for him to have to utilize violence on the one he cherished; however, it’d seem a tad counterintuitive for him to give you the opportunity to run away.

You’d forgive him, you’d come around. You always did.

He’d swept you up and carried you to the large basement of the house, gently placing you on a worn settee; sickly ochre in colour - the one you’d been meaning to dispose of for years. His actions were soft and caring and his thoughts clouded almost entirely with his overwhelming love for you.

In passing hours he observed your peaceful state mindfully as his core pulsated in the cosy warmth of his rib cage, imagining what a future found solely in each other’s embrace would hold… eventually you’d stay of your own accord, he reasoned. He’d have no need to harm you or to keep you under the low, flickering lights of the basement. Defiance would become a thing of the past. You’d realise how happy you are he’d made the decisions for you, both of you, together…

“Why?” That was a question you sometimes took to asking yourself; more out of pure, unadulterated boredom than anything else. Something you’d already explored the answer to but thought it better to keep your mind occupied with trivial matters than to succumb to insanity (or the intensifying ache of your battered legs).

On that same note, though, contact with the world outside wasn’t the only thing he’d severed.

At the time, such an observation had very nearly made you laugh (and you could probably blame it on the fact that you’d always been quite partial to the more gruesome forms of satire). It was in an impulsive burst of inappropriate and rather facetious humour that you’d wanted to entertain yourself in the recital of depressing hymns (expected, given the nature of your surroundings), to congratulate your stupidity and wallow deeper into the marshes your own self-pity; only to be met with the simple fact that you didn’t have the option.

Your tongue? Gone.

And it hadn’t been the work of the proverbial cat, but your own son, who – cheery as always – had explained that it was another necessary action to stop you from hurting yourself, done behind the ever-wise teaching that prevention was indeed, better than cure. Could you not see he only wanted what was best for you?

It was then you were sure he’d dangerously distorted his self-awarded role as your protector and had lost his mind.

“Okaa-San, Its aright…” He beamed whilst you’d engaged in silently cursing your weak will “You won’t feel a thing!” - he flashed a guilty smile - after I knock you out…again.

And you didn’t. He’d sutured the wound (with what you really didn’t want to know) and made sure you didn’t choke on your own life juices, patching you up like the loving, doting son that he is… It was your job not to worry about the extremity of his actions, as a mother that should do everything in their power to put their beloved’s mind at ease.

Saved from the fate of Exsanguination… shows how much he adores you right? Not that you'd had half the courage or audacity to end your own life in such a macabre fashion, but even if you hadn’t been relieved of the burden of speech; you weren’t one to shatter another’s fantasies - especially if they were high school athletes with inhuman amounts of strength.

In the passing weeks, your mind had dawned upon the realisation that no one was coming to save you - and did you even need saving? – for your parents were far too busy, friends far too distant and dashing officer that’d do everything in his power far too non-existent. Shoyo was the only one who had cared for you, providing you with physical and emotional sustenance you’d never thought you needed - maybe for the reason that he had made himself the only source.

Another thing you’d come to realise, this time regarding unintelligible murmurs, is that they are very much open to interpretation. So even though his barrage of saccharine words were met with your limited arsenal of what might be considered responses, they been understood as absolute agreement, alongside the reciprocation of his affections. Which, to be honest, wasn’t that far off from the truth, as it was by that point, you’d learned the path of resistance was futile and that you were beginning to get used to (and even bask in) the flattery and praise he showered you with, silently and psychologically solidifying the notion that he was yours and you were his.

“You’ll stay with me forever right, Okaa-San?”

He giggled, placing a soft, lingering kiss upon your lips as if he were certain of your answer. And so were you. However, when he looked at you, tenderly caressing your form there was something amiss, a dormant hunger that hadn’t been there before, one that when coupled with the intensity he’d always regarded you with gave birth to towering waves of nausea and accentuated the persistent throb of your injured legs as if in subtle warning…

But you could deal with that later.

Because, despite the fact that his, short, brilliant orange hair had grown long and luscious with time and his scrawny figure had evolved into a mass of lean muscle, he still looked to you … like he did the first day he entered your care. Young, innocent and without fault. Unfairly dealt a bad hand and with you tasked to be the provider of everything he never had. So, as per the contract signed…

You nodded.

After all, what was a guardian without unconditional devotion to their child?

#deal with the devil collab #yandere #hinata shoyo x reader #hq hinata #hinata shoyuo #yandere hinata #yandere x reader #yandere haikyuu #hinata shoyo x you #haikyuu hinata #yandere hinata shoyo #tw yandere

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nocturna-starr · 4 years ago

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I Am the Son of the Ghost King

Prompter: @five-rivers

Prompt: After their fight, Pariah Dark decides Danny has all the qualities he wants in an heir and forcibly adopts him. (Danny can either lose the fight to put him back in the Sarcophagus, or Pariah can get out again later

Words: 1251

The halls of Pariah’s keep were so dark, not even the multiple torches aligning each of the walls could break through the dark. Perhaps it was better this way, as it hid from sight the ghosts pleading for their lives as they were dragged to Pariah Dark’s throne room.

To the knowledge of few outside of the palace, Pariah Dark had once again escaped the sarcophagus of forever sleep. Enraged by the betrayal of his subjects, the King of Ghosts had sent his skeleton ghosts to find all of those who had made the rash decision to rise up against him and force them to see their punishment.

But Pariah was also looking for another. A child who despite everything, somehow beat him into submission – even if only for a little while. It had taken the powers of the ancients himself to defeat him last time. Yet a mere child had been victorious? Unspeakable!

That child would one day get even stronger. With the right ambition, he could be the one to rule over both the human realms and the ghost zone. He was not someone you wanted as an enemy. He was the perfect child to have as an heir. Pariah knew the boy had a human half and potentially even human parents. He didn’t care. He had heard rumours that the boy’s parents didn’t even know about his abilities. Then they wouldn’t need to know about the ghost king adopting the child they clearly neglected, would they?

The only trouble was that the boy was extremely stubborn, famously so. That solution required the threatening of the observants for a relic that could fix that. Yes, the amulet Ĝojo de la Patro would be a perfect solution.

“Sire! Sire!” One of the few loyal castle servants ran into the throne room, “Your knights have found him!”

Pariah Dark grinned, “Then let’s bring him in, shall we?”

“Yes my Lord.”

True to his nature, the boy came in struggling. He didn’t beg for freedom, nor was he quiet. The troublemaker seemed to have a mouth that could run a mile a minute. No harm, Pariah could just force the boy to give up that trait. He was in his ghost form, wearing his strange black suit with white gloves, boots, and belt. When he noticed the king sitting on the throne, the boy’s green eyes widened in shock and fear. Pariah frowned. One day the boy would come to love him.

“Daniel Phantom, you have been charged with treason. How do you plead?” Pariah Dark boomed.

“I plead the second.” The boy responded. Pariah Dark was not stupid. He knew the boy was trying to play a game of wits.

“You plead that you are bound to a lady’s hand and are only doing her wishes?” That wasn’t actually a legal excuse. In his existence, the king of ghosts had heard only one knight plead this. Instead of the intended desire, mercy, that had only made things worse. There was a reason that only the Fright Knight was left of his non-skeleton servants.

“What? No! I mean… you know what? Never mind. I plead not guilty.” The boy glared at his king.

Pariah grinned wickedly. “Is that so?”

“Not that I have to explain myself, but I was only doing what was right!” The boy sounded so confident in his words, like a royal prince should.

“Daniel Phantom, you have been found guilty of this crime. Because of your young age, you shall be pardoned!”

“What?” The boy fell when the skeletal soldiers dropped him on the ground. At Pariah Dark’s nod, the child grinned, “Thanks! You know maybe some of the ghosts were wrong about you. Since we’re cool and all, I’m going home. You have no idea how late it is. I have a test in the morning too!”

Pariah Dark stood up. He snapped his fingers and a new skeleton appeared carrying the amulet.

“To show our good will, we are presenting a gift to you.” Pariah Dark motioned for the boy to come forward. The child nervously took a step, before seeming to determine the danger was too high. No matter, one day the boy wouldn’t need to fear his king.

“Umm… is that a necklace?”

“Indeed child. It is one of the rare artifacts of the first ghost king. He gave this to his eldest son, and his eldest son passed it on to his son. I have retrieved it from the observants.” Pariah enjoyed watching the child try to reason why he would be given such a gift. He could see the kid weighing all the possibilities. Finally the boy sighed.

“You aren’t going to possess me, make me do something against my will, use me as a device to take over the world or you know… kill me, right?” The boy sighed.

Pariah smirked, “I would not need an amulet to do that to you. All I would need to do is simply wish for it to happen, and it would be so.”

“That is not nearly as comforting as you think it is.” The prince-to-be sighed, “I don’t have a choice in putting this thing on, do I?”

The Ghost King shook his head. “It would be rude to reject a gift.”

The child sighed once more before asking, “May I put it on myself then?”

The King of Ghosts snapped his fingers. A skeletal servant came running into the room. It carefully took the amulet than ran over to the prince. It presented Ĝojo de la Patro while kneeling on the ground. The boy took it then carefully placed it around his neck. The servant disappeared in a whiff a smoke.

Pariah Dark motioned towards the door. “It must be very late in the Human-Realm. My servants can bring you home.”

The boy eyed him as he exited the room. The child knew the King’s actions were too friendly. He was just as the other ghosts had claimed. He would truly be a warrior prince!

Pariah waited a minute or two. At the fourth minute, he feared that the amulet had not lived up to expectations. Of course, the observants had given him the wrong thing! They were more untrustworthy than the senators in Rome!

All his fears were squashed when the boy raced back into the room. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I leave this place? Why can’t I take off this stupid thing?”

“Ĝojo de la Patro means joy of the father. It was given to the eldest child because he was the king’s favourite and the king couldn’t bear to part with his dear son. The amulet forces the prince, or wearer to be within 50 meters of the current ghost king. Until I take it off, you will always be at my side.” Pariah informed him.

“WHAT! I CA- WHY?”

“You are to be the next ghost king.” Pariah Dark smiled, “You need to be at my side at all times.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“Take Prince Daniel to his chambers.”

The boy tried to fight away the skeletal servants. What he didn’t realize was the futility of the situation. The soldiers would form with the blink of an eye and at the will of the king. There was an unlimited amount.

“When you have finished your temper tantrum, you shall go to bed. Then I will train you in the morn.” Pariah left his adopted son to the mercy of the hordes.

#phic phight 2021 #danny phantom #pariah dark

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lastsonlost · 4 years ago

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Woke' warriors on San Fran school board deny gay white dad with bi-racial daughter place on volunteer parent committee because he's not diverse ENOUGH!

Seth Brenzel, a gay white father of a bi-racial child, was denied a spot on the San Francisco Board of Education's volunteer parent committee

The issue of whether to allow Brenzel to volunteer for the 15-person parent advisory council was debated for almost two hours on Tuesday night

His candidacy faced opposition from some board members and members of the public who argued that there wasn't enough diversity on the council

Those who opposed his candidacy were concerned with the fact that he is white

The 15-person council currently only has 10 members: Two black mothers, one Asian-American, three Latinx, one Pacific Islander and three white

Brenzel, who is the executive director of a music program for children, is openly gay. He lives in San Francisco with his husband and their young daughter

If approved, Brenzel would have been the only father on the council

The issue of whether to allow Seth Brenzel to volunteer for the 15-person parent advisory council was debated for almost two hours on Tuesday night during a board meeting.

The parent advisory council, who had unanimously supported Brenzel to join their all-female committee, had submitted his name to be approved by the school board.

His candidacy, however, faced opposition from some board members and members of the public who argued that there wasn't enough diversity on the council - even though there are five seats currently empty.

Those who opposed his candidacy were concerned with the fact that he is white.

The 15-person council currently only has 10 members: Two black mothers, one Asian-American, three Latinx, one Pacific Islander and three white.

Brenzel, who is the executive director of a music program for children, is openly gay. He lives in San Francisco with his husband and their young daughter.

If approved, Brenzel would have been the only father on the council.

After the lengthy debate, the school board eventually decided against voting on his appointment at all and asked the council to find alternate candidates for them to consider.

Brenzel's appointment to the council was just one of the agenda items for the meeting that ended up going for seven hours.

Another item on the agenda was about reopening San Francisco schools amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

It is the same school board that last month voted 6-1 to strike the names of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and Abraham Lincoln from the district's institutions.

As a result, 44 schools had to change their names after board members deemed the historical figures to have ties to racism or have 'dishonorable legacies' despite basing the decision on incorrect Wikipedia articles.

The issue of diversity was a main argument in deciding whether to appoint Brenzel to the council.

One person, only identified as Tara, said during the meeting: 'They are not a diverse group of parents as far as I have seen, I have noticed and have observed.'

Others who opposed Brenzel's appointment argued that the council 'does not even mirror Joe Biden's cabinet' and that other 'voices need to be heard first before white queer voices'.

Commissioner Matt Alexander - who described himself as the lone white board member - had said that it seemed 'like the white members are over-represented on the P.A.C.' and that there was an under-representation of 'Arab, Vietnamese, Native American folks'.

'I'm probably going to get complaints now I'm telling white parents not to be involved or something. I want to be clear, that's not what I'm saying,' he said, before later adding that 'white parents also in the city tend to have a lot of privilege and power and access the board of ed in various ways.'

Several others, however, defended Brenzel's candidacy, pointing out that he would bring diversity because he is gay and a father.

'I see no reason why Seth should not be confirmed. I think this is just honestly just a political show so you can say that you stopped a white person from getting on,' one speaker said.

Another member of the public said: 'I'm very upset we are focusing solely on race. Seth would be the only male on the pact. He would be the only LGBTQ member. He has a bi-racial child.

'I mean, this notion of oh, he's just a white person therefore we can't have him, it's absolute nonsense. There's diversity beyond the color of our skin and I think it is important to consider diversity beyond just race and the intersectionalty of parents.

'We are all diverse in our own way and Seth brings a lot of diversity to a pact that has no men and no LGBTQ parents.'

It comes as the school board president Gabriela López, 30, defended last month's decision to rename the 44 schools honoring historical leaders who have since been branded by activists as racist.

San Francisco Unified School District had been criticized for voting by 6-1 last month to change the name of one-third of the city's schools.

Parents and residents became concerned when it emerged that historians had not been consulted by the renaming committee.

Instead, committee members allegedly used references from Wikipedia and other non-scholarly sources to determine which personalities were racist and problematic.

Several of those citations have now been proven to be factually incorrect, including a false claim that American poet James Russell Lowell did not want black people to vote and that Paul Revere's military activities were tied to 'the conquest of the Penobscot Indians'.

Gabriela López, the head of the San Francisco Board of Education, continues to defend the decision claiming in a tense interview with the New Yorker that she doesn't want to 'discredit the work that this group has done' despite their use of inaccurate information.

She claimed that she did not believe the names had been selected in a haphazard way, even after being read a list of the misinformation that was used in some of the decisions.

'No, because I've already shared with you that the people who have contributed to this process are also part of a community that is taking it as seriously as we would want them to,' Lopez argued about the errors made in the research process.

'And they're contributing through diverse perspectives and experiences that are often not included, and that we need to acknowledge.

'What I keep hearing is you're trying to undermine the work that has been done through this process. And I'm moving away from the idea that it was haphazard,' she said in the strained Q&A.

Lopez also pushed back on the complaints that historians were not consulted as part of the process.

Among the names included on the list that had provoked pushback from residents and historians was President Abraham Lincoln.

Lopez said that she did not believe Lincoln was a person she would 'admire or see as a hero'.

'I think that the killing of indigenous peoples and that record is something that is not acknowledged,' she said.

'It's something that people are now learning about, and due to this process. And so, we just have to do the work of that extra learning when we're having these discussions.'

Lopez also claimed that the renaming was only facing criticism because 'people will always have a problem with the discussion of racism', not because of the inaccurate information.

'That is what I know. That is why I'm getting death threats. That is why people aren't open to other possibilities. Because when we have this discussion, that's the outcomes no matter how good it's set up, no matter how open we are,' she said.

'No matter what, people are going to have an issue with that. That is what I know, given my experience. Of course, I'm hearing what you're saying, but I don't think it's going to change the outcome. People are still going to be up in arms when we're doing this.'

Among the other criticism received by the city's board of education was that it had voted on the renaming when there appeared to be no plan in place to bring students back to in-person learning.

'What I cannot understand is why the school board is advancing a plan of all these schools renamed by April when there isn't a plan to have our kids back in the classroom by then,' San Francisco Mayor London Breed had said.

The city of San Francisco has also since sued the board of education and school district claiming they have violated a state law that required districts to adopt a clear plan during the pandemic as it relates to in-person education.

Lopez claimed that it is 'completely false' to say they don't have a plan and accused to the mayor of jumping at 'any opportunity to cause further division'.

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jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

first love (m)

genre : fluff, angst, light smut

pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

word count : 4.6k

warnings/content : mentions of sexual intercourse, mature language, infidelity, separated parents, unresolved past relationship, dad!seokjin, mom!reader

Seokjin doesn't mean to overreact. He knows he shouldn't. Knows you hate it. Knows, because he's been told enough times, that these types of reactions are unnecessary and possibly harmful for a child.

He can't really help it when deep down he knows he was meant to be an actor. Right before his actual birthday, his mother had dreamt of giving birth on a theatre stage, for God's sake.

But his father wasn't into it, given his ambitions, his own growing company and all the promising opportunities he envisioned both for him and for his only son. Therefore Seokjin went to law school, graduated with excellent mentions, followed an accelerated program in business development and managing and joined his father exactly where he was expected.

He isn't exactly complaining.

He likes his job, most of the time, likes the money and luxury that come with it especially and appreciates the work safety.

Now, you can't blame him for being quite the drama queen in his everyday life. All that pent up, buried alive passion for the arts of acting need to express, somehow.

That's what he'd say to you when you used to yell at him for starting weeping loudly in your ear when he'd call you to cancel a date last minute because he couldn't come, instead of just, cancelling it, aplogize, get over it like a normal person.

Or when you'd kick him in the ribs because he'd be all wild gestures and screeching screams when he'd teach your son to ride a bike and he would fall, as he should to learn, making the boy cry even when he wasn't hurt, solely from the projection of his dad's fear.

You're not here to tell him yourself but the glazed, annoyed roll of his son's eyes tells him precisely what you would. Those eyes are the worst. The prettiest he's ever seen. The ones he loves the most. The ones you also wear on your own pretty face.

"Since when?" He has a hand pressed to his chest, preventing a heart attack it seems, gaze wide and alarmed. Timothy sighs.

"A while. They were already together for Valentine's Day-" He explains patiently. That kid is sweet. The way he's slumped over, obviously annoyed to have to be the one telling his dad and having to deal with the consequences but still, he's watching over him with a soft eye, mouth torn in a sympathetic pout. He wouldn't mind his parents to get back together even though he is almost sure it wouldn't be a good idea for the both of you. He's heard tales of dysfunctional families, of parents hurting each other and their children and doesn't want that for any of you. He can't imagine it happen. You two are too good for that. That's probably why you had decided to separate in the first place.

Seokjin is quickly making maths in his head. Not really counting the time but situating himself in that time frame. Where was he at when she was out with this guy? What was he doing?

He may have been in Japan when it started. He remembers a call from you, you were asking him to take Timothy for a couple of days. You sounded embarrassed and he didn't know why but couldn't take the time to investigate, he had a flight expecting him and a conference call waiting to start in a couple of minutes. Important stuff. None of it would have mattered if he had known what you were up to.

"You okay, dad?" Timothy asks, awkward but kind. His mom basically.

"Devastated." Seokjin says with the widest grin on his face. He's not devastated. It'd be ridiculous to be for something absolutely predictable, fair and normal. He's not mad, nor disappointed. You deserve to be seeing people, have them desire you and make you feel good. He wishes it were him but if he can't do that, if you won't let him, he's glad you still can allow someone else to do it.

He's surprised though, he can't lie about that.

Honestly. That's stupid. But he didn't expect one second that you were seeing someone. You never mentioned anything and you didn't look like it. If there's a way you look when you're dating.

He remembers rosy cheeks and short skirts. You were younger.

"You think it's serious?" He asks casually, surprising even himself. His heart is in a turmoil but he showed enough to Timothy, acting like he was half dying, gasping for air and all.

"I don't know. She doesn't want to bring him home yet. Like, introduce him to me. I asked." Timothy, not only is he nice, he is smart. He's thirteen, shouldn't know much about Love and adults' matters yet. He's supposed to still be at that stage when one believes children and adults are two very distinctive race of humans, one that depends on the other and the other having it all figured it out, having reached a certain knowledge and expertise on all things and can't really be wrong on accident.

Timothy knows precisely what his dad would love to hear. And he gives it to him. Not to feed him vain hopes. Not even for this tiny hidden greed to have you back together. Simply because it's the truth and if for once the truth is pleasant to hear, then he should give it. Seokjin's smile only gets brighter. He shares a glance with his son, a glint winking his way and Timothy rolls his eyes, unable to hide the lift of the corners of his lips.

"Anyway, I heard you won that science fair at school?" Seokjin has already left his seat on Timothy's bed. He's rummaging through his leather bag and Timothy knows what it means. He has a present for him. Seokjin always has a present for him. Most of the time, he can justify it by some event or some success Timothy had encountered. The thing is they don't see each other that often, therefore, almost systematically, something new has come about and Seokjin can explain why he's brought a brand new console, a new laptop, a TV for his room or that one limited edition of this way too expensive branded pair of sneakers.

You used to get really mad at that. You'd say that he shouldn't, that he didn't need to bring him all these expensive stuff because what he'd like (it was a long time ago when Timothy was too young to have his own opinion and you would speak for him) is for his dad to be here more often. You'd say he wouldn't have to buy him shit for any other times than Christmas and his birthday if only he could be here for him. His dad would be his present.

It caused a lot of drama, a lot of crying. You had made sure not to scream, not to be too angry but Timothy felt from the way you squeezed him hard against your bosom that you were very upset. His dad had apologized, had said the most with his eyes only for you to understand. Timothy was staring, trying to get it too because he was involved, wasn't he? But that was one of those adults moments he wasn't allowed to participate in yet.

From then on, his dad wasn't late anymore when he'd set dates with him, his phone would be turned off when they were together and he would text him more often.

It was really nice. Because at first, Timothy felt that maybe if his dad wasn't so present it was because he didn't want to. For some reasons. He thought maybe he was too much of a coward or too nice possibly, to leave you two altogether, to disappear from your lives and start another one somewhere else, one he would have chosen and shaped as he'd want. Turns out Seokjin really appreciated his son and the time he got to spend with him. The more time they spend together, the more Timothy is met with awed eyes and whistling lips, impressed as his dad is by his smartness, his humour and hidden talents. He just was very busy. You explained that to him. That he was passionate by his work, that it required a sacrificial amount of time in one's life, and that he shouldn't ever take it personally because even he loved you and couldn't give you that time.

It's the conversation that led him to think that maybe his parents are meant to be, except they won't because... circumstances.

In any case, no matter how often they meet now, Seokjin still brings him gifts each and every time. The difference is that he has to think of a reason, sometimes make one up to not be struck down by your fury.

"Yes, I did."

"Of course, you did! Cause my son is the smartest." Timothy waits for the moment he says that his brain and the magic fuel filling it all come from him. It doesn't come. Instead, a neat white box is held in front of his face. There's a pretty tie made of ribbons glued in the middle, to hide the picture of what's inside, but there's no doubt that this is an iPhone. He rips the tie off and surprise surprise it's the iPhone 12.

"Mom is going to kill you." Timothy says first, before even thanking him, heart pounding from excitement and face split in two by the wide banana grin.

"Probably." He shrugs, unapologetic.

"Thanks, dad!" Timothy doesn't forget to add, eyes shiny and toothy grin even shinier.

He hopes so. That you're going to be mad. You two are too old to have petty fights now. You don't waste your energy in screaming and finding the worst things to say to hurt his feelings. You just cross your arms under your tits, clench your jaws and adopt that pout on your mouth, eyelids low and eyebrows high, the embodiment of condescendence and you look sexy as hell. He smiles and winks at you, calls you by an old pet name and you're swooning even though you try to hide it. No one is charming like he is, and no one charms you as he does therefore he's not too worried.

His son was just going around with this prehistorical device you dared to call a smartphone. With the broken screen, and the non-functioning selfie cam and the safari app needing a good ten minutes to charge one fucking page -this was deliberate as you wanted him to have a phone to call and text you and not go and lose himself on the internet or whatever. He's almost fourteen though and he's doing a great job at school and is such a good kid at home, he deserves it.

"I know and I don't care. I don't need you to tell me my son is good." You are infuriated. The perfect picture of you he had imagined, the only difference is that, you've just walked out of work, you seem to have had a rough day and your hair is a mess. With the wild locks hanging off of your bun, framing your pretty face, you look even better. "I don't want him to have something so expensive on him, first of all."

"His dad is richer than Cresus, what do you expect?" The cockiness dripping from every pore should suffice to make you explode. Of course, it doesn't. He has that stupid side grin. The one he's got you with in the first place.

"And what about- internet and even just the darn AppStore? He's too young to-"

"Are you worried about porn?" He frowns, you flush. That's precisely one of the things you think about. You don't want him to fall upon stuff he doesn't need to see -in your opinion for a good ten years at least- or start taking interest in social medias where creepy fuckers could hang out.

You flush because apparently, it's a word complicated still to hear from him. "I've made a parental software installed in it. And a localisation too. Not that we really need it with him but you know."

"Oh." All tension escapes from your torn face and tensed shoulders.

"Oh, wow, my first love is such a good dad." He mocks, voice high, hardly resembling yours, barely biting back a smirk. He even goes as far as swiping the right side of his bangs back, eyes closed, mannerism insufferable.

"Shut up." More flush. A fist to his chest for punishment. Bad idea. Apparently, he went back to the gym.

"You should be nicer because I have something for you too." He says, eyes glancing mischievously as his hand dips in the pocket of his trench coat. "Well. I don't want it." You cross your arms on your chest again which only serves to push your tits forward to him and he wonders what you're playing at. Probably the same game he plays when he winks and smiles and lifts his eyebrow to you.

"Wait 'til you see it." He sees the moment you realize it's a jewellery box. He reads the instant wild excitement, he catches also the gloomy shadow you try to paint over it because you don't want to accept it. How many times does he need to be told to stop? He won't ever stop.

"You can't buy me, Seokjin." You're eyeing the velour box in his hand, a tiny beautiful red in this large pearly white palm. You want it. You always do. You don't dare uncross your arms though because you know that if you even do something as reckless as taking it in your hand, just to have a look at it, you won't be able to refuse it.

"Of course, I can." More of that smirk. You glare, it makes him wheeze as he does.

You have never ever been able to refuse any of his shiny presents. You're not a gold digger, that's precisely why you felt so guilty all the time, accepting to receive from him things you could never afford for him -or yourself. He's born richer than you'll ever be, he loves to spend it on his loved ones -and on cars and designer clothes- and amongst everything else he loves, he adores covering you in shiny little rocks.

No one has ever worn diamonds the way you do. You look beautiful without them, magnificent with them. They were made to enhance your beauty and you were made to give them sense.

"You're such a dick." You say, tone way too monotonous to still have been in total control of your free will. Your eyes are glued to the shine of the two dainty clear earrings nested in the case. He's holding it open in front of your nose, like a hypnotizing stick. He sees your determination wavers. Your arms have just untied. Your hand is getting close. He smiles already savouring his victory.

"Take them, petal, I don't think your new boy could ever afford them." Your hand freezes mid-track, face falling you look up. He's a bit surprised to see guilt in those eyes. Shame and guilt. Even though, you have the right to see whoever you want. Obviously.

"How-" His head tilts slightly towards the hallway, where the bedrooms and the one Timothy is in, probably playing with his new phone. "Great. Bribing our son into giving you off my personal information."

"I gave him the iPhone after he told me." Seokjin feels the need to precise. His son loves him and he confided for this very reason. He wants to believe. He hopes that it's not because he's worried his dad would have a mental breakdown if he were to learn the news the day his mom would invite him to their wedding or something.

You sigh. You don't know what to say it seems. He doesn't want you to feel upset. He's not going to congratulate you either. He can't.

"Take them."

"He could- he's a doctor, you know." You sound like a petty little girl saying that, fingers aiming for the box but mouth reshaped by contempt.

Thankfully, the mesmerizing glee on your lovely face makes up for this last information.

A doctor.

He snorts, huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Are you really being disdainful over the noblest of all professions?"

"I bet he's not as handsome as I am." Seokjin says, staring away into space in a very Vogue kind of pose.

"And it's relevant because your face saves lives too, right?" You add to his clownery, biting on the smile wanting to take over your face.

"Precisely." You're already putting them on, watching your fingers work in the reflection on the microwave door. He's loving it. One is on, reflecting the light coming from the window, bringing a new sense to your whole stance. You don't look tired anymore. You look very fancy. Sexier than before. Your butt sways a little in excitement when you take a new look at yourself, now beautifully decorated and he's reminded of an idea he once had but never got to realize.

He wanted to have a fashion designer make a garter holder made of tiny diamonds. Solely diamonds. It would fit you just right, maybe a bit tight on you, would dig slightly in the meat of your thighs, enough to look fucking sinful and not too much so it doesn't hurt. He was quite young when he had the idea first and was probably not rich enough to make it happen.

He now owns a few palaces perched on the last stage of skyscrapers in three of the most expensive cities in the world and he would sell one in a beat if it meant he could get that for you and see you wear it for him.

You'd probably end up accepting it and then wear it for your new boy so that's out the question.

He doesn't hesitate when he reaches a hand forward, slip his fingers through the tie holding your hair in a bun and slide it off. You don't even flinch, he's still allowed to do that.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." You whisper with a smile, both for the compliment and for the present.

"You went to the hair salon." You nod, forcing yourself not to show your surprise. He doesn't need it to throw himself some flowers, "See? I noticed." He adds with way too much pride for so little.

"Your lenses work, congratulations." Sarcasm is the only answer to his stupidity, you both have figured this out long ago. "Is he nice?" Seokjin can't help but ask. He doesn't want to know too much about him. Kind of hopes that it won't be necessary as the guy won't last too long. But he can't resist his curiosity.

"Yes." You say without much of a hesitation. "Last week, he took me to this nice French restaurant in Songpa." You tell, eyes looking away, a bit pensive, mindlessly playing with one strand of your hair. Your face is taken over by that air. Seokjin realizes then that you really like him.

"I used to take you to very nice restaurants all the time, remember?" He's just messing around now. He knows it's not that relevant. Knows it won't get him higher in your regard,

"And I would spend half the date with the waiter while you'll have yours with your phone. I do remember." Especially given you don't recall your common past the same.

He does remember now that you mention it. His memory has been awfully selective and mainly, what he could picture when he thought about those times, is how beautiful you looked, how much he wanted you and felt like even sitting right next to you, he couldn't satisfy that need, was missing you even if you were right there, and the mind-blowing sex too. The later probably happening because he owed to make it up to you because indeed, his job was on the dates too and you hated that. He remembers the late mornings, the lazy ones, you'd make him carry you on his back because your legs and your hips hurt too badly.

"Ouch!" Toppling over, hand on his bosom where it actually really hurts, he yelps in agony, pretending to have been shot. You giggle and slap his shoulder, pester him to stop when you both hear Timothy ask from his room if everything's okay. You'd think he would know by now that his dad is just a clown whose shenanigans shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Are you seeing someone these days?" What a shame, Seokjin really thought for once he'd be solely cool and collected and handsome. Instead, he can feel his ears start to burn in embarrassment, walks a few steps back, pretending to want to throw a glance through the window when really, he'd do anything to not have see you notice.

"Someone?" He huffs. "Some three, actually some four or five. You know how the ladies get with me-" He sounds dumb as hell. It suffices to make you laugh. You've always laughed at his antics. Even when you were going through complicated times, like the pregnancy and the soon to follow break up, he'd try to dry your cheeks and lighten your gaze, heartbroken as he was to see you like that, and it would always work.

"And I know how bad you are with maths." He nods, doesn't look at you, simply stares at the shiny tip of his italian shoes. "You should call me sometimes, Jin." You don't need to tell him, he knows. You say that to him almost every single time. It's just you being kindhearted, the way you've always been. But first, he hates the idea that somehow, to some degree, it's a pity hand you're holding out for him. And secondly, he knows he'll fuck up if he calls.

He won't be able to talk about his job or politics or what's on the dumb tv these days. He'd probably start by asking what you're wearing and end it all by serenading you. What a bad idea. "You don't ever call, only Tim. Which is fine but-" He is lonely, he does miss you, but he's not that stupid. "I miss you too, you know." You look awfully sincere when you say this. There's still a sad shade to your eyes and he suspects it comes from you worrying about him rather than you simply wanting him more in your life. Maybe it's there for both reasons. He can't be mad at you for caring about him still, can he? Ultimately, it's sweet. It's not your fault he tends to be a loser in his very personal life.

He wouldn't know who he is trying to comfort when he strides forward and place a kiss on your cheek. The other one he's cradling in his palm feels warmer the longer he touches it. He doesn't let it go once he backs up and away. You're looking up to him with your eyes looking all round and childish. Quiet and in expectancy. You look like you do when you would wait for him to kiss you. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and he smirks.

"Expecting me to kiss you?" He asks with an eyebrow raised high. Pretend judgment in his tone, even remonstrance. As if. "How scandalous, when you already have a boyfriend." You know he's just kidding and he can tell that. He wouldn't play with that if he wasn't sure. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you feel wrong or bad in any way. He loves you too much for that. You could let him kiss you and he wouldn't hold you accountable for it. Therefore he does. Because he's dying to since the last time it happened a couple of weeks back. And when your own lips welcome his, with that much willing and tenderness, he suspects you've had too.

He doesn't allow it to go too far. He thought you would stop him, at some point, but you don't. He's the one pulling away when his tongue, instinctively, means to reach out for your own. He knows what comes after that, and what comes after that and after and after. And even if you transpire guilt and shame, he can sense in the way your eyes stare into his that you would have let it all happen.

He's not lacking in desire, he hopes you know that. Honestly, since earlier, and that random flash of the diamond garter holder, his brain is half clouded by the thought of your thighs and his face buried in between them. You used to make the most delicious sounds, pulling at the root of his hair and chasing your high with your hips. Also now that he's met your mouth again and he envisioned what could happen if he just let go, he can't help but think about that dresser in your room. The gigantic thing you wanted him and Timothy to put together as sort of a father and son enterprise to bound or whatever - he ended up paying a guy to do it for them and they played Mario Kart instead but you don't need to know that. Point of the matter is, that massive dresser has a massive mirror on its door and that massive mirror sits perfectly in front of your bed. And all he can think about is how bad he'd like to fuck you on your bed while you'd watch yourself in it. He'd pull back your hair, hold in tight in his fist like he knows you love so you could see your own cute face while his cock would reshape your cunt to its fitting, all this with the pretty little shiny earrings adorning your ears.

Fuck, what a concept.

And it is to say that right now, he knows, you'd let him. He's not that wicked though. He feels your too weak to resist him today therefore he's not even going to chance it. He doesn't want you to do something you'd hate yourself for afterwards.

"I should go, I still have documents to send for a new contract before-" He takes a look at the expensive watch heavy on his wrist, you roll your eyes. "Half an hour ago, great." He offers you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes no matter how hard he tries before he's off to the hallway, giving you his broad back. "I'm going to say bye to Tim."

"It's just- like that, Seokjin." The words are pretty badly chosen. They don't mean much. Seokjin still gets it though. He can picture you behind him, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. It doesn't mean much.

"I know, petal. Don't worry." He throws over his shoulder, faux lightness in his tone even though his heart feels raw. It doesn't mean enough, is more accurate. This kiss like every single one of your shared looks and words and bickering and touches, they all mean that you still fit perfectly good together. However, it's not enough because somehow, someday, you came to the conclusion that you were not meant to be. He's confused as to why and how he agreed with you then. Here's the main reason why he never calls you.

When Timothy looks up from his new phone, wearing your eyes and his smile, he feels a whole new range of pain affected to his sensitized heart. How can you not see that you're meant to be?

A/N: Happy Lunar New Year :) this little thingy was inspired by Arsène Lupin and the relationship between Assane and Claire for those who watched it! I don’t know if i translated well the alchimy and unfightable attraction and connection they still have even after having seperated. ANYWAY, hope you all are doing fine, hope you liked this, LET ME KNOW what you thought, tell me about your day, your resolutions if you have any, what’s the weather like where you at etc lmao xoxo

PS: stay tuned for a new upcoming series i’m quite excited about ~~

#btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #bts scenario #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin scenario

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years ago

Text

It's final

Dedicated to my best friend K, who exclusively reads angst (yes I know she is crazy).

Warnings: domestic disputes, panic attacks & mental breakdowns.

Ao3

———————————————

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?”

She froze, her anger steeled within her. Their argument was abruptly silenced, both tempers flaring high enough to threaten the heavens. Heaving breaths from their vocal exertions became louder than their previous yelling. A pang of fear struck her heart as she wonders whether the neighbours had heard them and called the police for a domestic dispute.

Marinette was furious. She wasn’t a saint during this war of words, and had said somethings she shouldn’t have. She had started this argument with the intentions of lessening his reckless behaviour, but ended up stating in anger that his mother would be stopping his behaviour too. That line lead to his outburst and the state they were in now.

Cheeks flushed red, particles of perspiration dotted their skin, bodies wound with tension. She swiftly motioned towards the door, hand reaching to the knob. Jason grabbed her other wrist, deep seated sadness displayed over his features, immediately regretting his words spoken by ire. Her head tilted downwards, stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it,” his voice cracked, any traces of rage had melted into sorrow.

“You never do, but it hurts the same.” She shook her arm, detaching his hand from her wrist. His grip was firm but unwilling to deny her, her free will. She picked up her purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder. The door opened, she could feel his stare on the back of his head. Her sigh filled the empty space, without turning she said, “I think it’s better that we seperate, we aren’t good for each other. I’m willing to keep up appearances with your family at the gala but then I’ll move my belongings to another apartment.”

She turned around, rushing into his embrace, tears shed from her eyes. A final hug goodbye. His stray tears raced down his cheeks to reach their raven hair finish line. He made no move to respond to her hug. Usually he’d have wrapped her in his arms, especially after an argument like this. But this one was different. This would be their last.

“Au revior, Jason.” She removed her body from his. It left him wanting to pull her back but it was as if his muscles had necrotic back to a corpse. His eyes flicked down to his invisible chains, begging his arms to move, to capture his lightning bug and never let her go. He looked back at her, she stood there, seemingly wanting him to say something, anything.

“I’m sorry.” His hoarse voice whispered, he desperately wanted to pepper her face with kisses and beg her to forgive a cretin like him. His voice broke as he uttered, “Please.”

Blue eyes met blue eyes. Marinette’s head shook slightly, non-verbally denying him. A bitter laugh escaped her mouth, she brought up her hand cover her crazed smile. “I’m sorry too.” She sobbed.

She rushed out the door, practically sprinting to the elevator. As the strong metal door closed, her sobbed echoed around the empty box. She broke down, months of fights and building tensions had weighed her down, her creativity had been primarily funnelled into ways she could improve her relationship. Il vaut mieux prévenir que guérir (It is better to prevent than to heal).

When the door closed Jason’s knees collapsed, a hollow echo resounded through the hallway. Their shared apartment would be no longer. No more hello, good bye kisses; no more delicious meals shared between the two; no more sleepy morning kisses. He looked down at his hands, clenched fists. A primal cry left his throat, he felt it to his core. He would have rather had his heart ripped out, he would have rather have died again, than to feel this pain.

——

It was the night of the gala, only four days after their fight. Marinette had only come back to their condo once to collect some clothes and her sewing machine. Only the essentials were taken, the rest could be gathered by movers.

Jason was a wreck. He had worked multiple overtime shifts to avoid the festering wound that was his bleeding heart. Preparing for his family’s ball was tough, this would be the first time they would see each other since the argument. He sported a fresh haircut which was left messy, his white button down top hugged his muscles perfectly, was paired with a slate grey blazer and matching dress pants (both gifts from Marinette).

He was fiddling with his tie, the gala’s atmosphere was already suffocating due to insufferable and rich hotshots, and his tie decided that he didn’t need to breathe. Marinette didn’t care for appearances but knew his family lived under the watchful eye of the media, so she always made sure they were matching. But tonight, tonight he had no clue what she was wearing and had received no colour matching instructions, so he went with trusty rusty red. It was the first thing the fashionista made for him and he will always cherish it.

His eyes widened as he saw her enter. She wore a midnight silk black mermaid gown that had a chiffon overskirt that was black fading to blood red. Her hair was down and curled, a silver feather hair clip pinned back the left side of her hair, exposing her magnificent facial features. Cerulean eyes framed by dark painted lashes, scanned the room.

Her heart caught in her throat, she had entered the doors to the banquet hall. She came with the intention of saying her silent goodbyes to the family who had taken her in when she had no one else. She had been suffering in silence for the past few days, her only support system being the Wayne Clan, but couldn’t bring herself to tell them what had happened. She couldn’t do that to Jason, she wouldn’t make them choose between him and her, she dreaded to hear their answers. Resigning herself to reside in silence, she came here to keep up appearances then fade into obscurity, but she saw him and her breath died in her throat. He looked as handsome as the day she left him. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. She walked towards him; he spotted her and did the same. They met in the middle, on the dance floor.

“You look amazing Marinette.” He swallowed the urge to call her pixie, it hung heavy in his throat. He needed to create distance between them, that was the first advice in ‘How to be civil after a breakup’. During the silent nights, he delved into any written text that would give him refuge and advice.

“You too Jason.” The pit in his stomach grew, he should have known she would take the same path. Never would he hear ‘Jay’ or ‘Jayjay’ from her plump red lips again. His shoulders slumped a fraction before he shooed away his depressing thoughts.

Their conversing was viewed by many around the room. They were the odd couple of the family. Jason, despite his rich adoptive home worked in security and charity whilst Marinette was a hardworking fashionista who had built her own fashion empire. They were from two different worlds and only fate knew that they’d meet.

He bowed and held out a hand to her, a lopsided smiled danced across his face. She smiled sadly, she would miss her dork, she would miss his smile. Her hand brushed against his calloused palm, their fingers locked together. She hesitated before placing a hand on his shoulder, ‘just one dance’, she could do this.

His hand found her waist, warmth bloomed upon his cold skin. He was always cold since he died, only his temper had warmed him. But then he met her. Marinette was his warmth, she made him feel like he was a child again, bathing in Gotham’s rare sunlight. His lightning bug brought him warmth and he had lost it.

They swayed to the classic instrumental melody. Neither looked at each other as their bodies flowed, ‘it was just an act’, they chanted as a mantra within their minds. ‘It means nothing, soon this will be over’. It struck her, this would be the final time they would see each other. A quiet sob escaped her, she was unable to do anything to stop it.

Jason’s head snapped towards her, sweeping her away into a private garden. Between her weeping she apologised for the state she was in, hyperventilating soon after. Jason guided her to a bench and clasped her hands in his.

“Hey, hey! Mari look at me. Deep breaths in and out, ok?.” Screw creating distance, this was his girl, he will fight anyone who says otherwise. Marinette slowly began to wind down from her panic attack, eyes misty and her water-proof mascara blotchy but still intact. The temperamental man wiped her cheeks free from trails of liquid fright.

“I’m so sorry for everything Jason. I never should have said that thing about your mother, that was cruel. I can’t keep hurting the people I care about. I can’t keep you happy. I’m just not enough.”

Her cries broke down his own walls, exposing his vulnerability to the Gotham night. “Fuck the word enough. It’s synonyms: sufficient, ample and adequate, could never describe what you mean to me.” He pressed his forehead on her, blue eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not sure if any of us will ever be enough for anything. There’s no point in begging for it.”

“I hate goodbyes.” She whispered, lips inches from his. Their breaths mingled, cheeks flushing. The icy Gotham air whipped at their skin causing them to move closer to the other for sanctuary.

“Then let’s not make this one.” Fireworks. That’s what they felt when their lips connected. All of the week’s tension unraveled within this lip lock. Their teeth clashed and hands tugged at hair in desperation to close the distance between them. When she entered the gala tonight, she had been so ready to say, ‘adieu pour toujours,’ but was glad she didn’t need to.

C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans es poir de retour. (This is love, giving it ones all, sacrificing everything without hope of it being returned.)

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #Jasonette #Jason x Marinette #Marinette x Jason #angst #Marinette is no saint #things were said that they can never take back

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verytiredblob · 3 years ago

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My reviews on Manhwas

Alright so, recently I've began to fall into the great Manhwa hell, as if I didn't have enough fandoms.

But I neither have friends to chat about this with, nor a Discord chat where I can fanby about it, so I just decided to throw it in here.

These are both Manhwas I recommend and my opinions on them. If there are any spoilers, They will be striked through and in blue for anyone that wishes to avoid them (if anyone even reads this lol).

1. The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass (악녀는 모래시계를 되돌린다)

Premise: Aria was a terrible person and was sentenced to dead by being beheaded. In her final moments, she discovers her step sister, Mielle, actually manipulated her during her entire life just so she could get Aria killed. She then is beheaded, and wakes up in the past, in her child body. So now, she must work to both survive and get her revenge on her sister.

Lovely story, and my first Manhwa. The art is simply stunning, and all the characters are very flashed out and developed. Aria (MC) is the pettiest person alive and I'm here for that.

Also, I noticed a trend where, even though the manhwa has "Villainess" in the title, the MC is usually a total angel. Well, not here. Aria is egotistical and a total Diva, she has her goals and one of them is her revenge and by all that is sacred she'll get it.

Mielle is a great villain, she has grown a lot in her own pettiness and tactics since she was a child, and I really like that. Also, watching her suffer for being a terrible person is delightful.

The Male Lead (Asher) is also really cool, I like how he's both witty and friendly, and how much he truly admires Aria and her achievements.

The side characters are also pretty good, and they get a lot of focus because of their interactions with the main cast.

Again, The art is S T U N N I N G. Look at this:

Literally all panels are drawn like this or better, I'm in love.

All in all, an awesome read, 10/10, I love this a lot.

2. The Monster Duchess And Contract Princess (괴물 공작가의 계약 공녀)

Premise: Leslie's life was terrible, and always centered on her big sister, Eli. After a failed attempt of her family to grant Eli her sister's skills and knowledge, Leslie searches for the feared "Monster Duchess" in an attempt to survive.

Another one with incredible art AND incredible characters. Leslie is an absolute angel, and seeing her grow as a person is awesome.

The gender envy I feel with the Duchess is unbearable, she's utterly perfect. And the entire family is so dotting and loving and sweet, my little grinch heart can't take it.

She's perfection, really.

The plot keeps getting more and more mysterious, and I'm here for it!

I love each of the main characters a lot, and even the villains are well done and fuel your hatred.

Also, Eli Sperado and her Dad can choke on those black flames for all eternity.

Another 10/10, although I must warn anyone that wishes to read this that the translations sometimes are very spotty and messy, so it can be a bit annoying.

3. I'll be the Matriarch in this Life (이번 생은 가주가 되겠습니)

Premise: Firentia was a girl that died in Korea in her past life, and was reborn into an influential family as the illegitimate daughter of the third son. Her life was pretty terrible, with in the end, her family ending up in poverty and disgrace because of her uncles and cousins, while she was exiled from the family. After another accident, she wakes up in her past, now with a goal: Become the Lombardi matriarch and stop the other family heirs from bringing it to ruin.

Awesome art and Awesome plot number 3! This is so good, genuinely. Firentia is such an awesome plotter, and her goals and actions are very well developed.

The Male Lead is my baby and I shall protect him, and the side characters? Utterly stunning.

The twins are the cutest fucking shit, seriously. Like, look at these two?? I'm dead. Although, all the children are very, veeery cute.

I like how Firentia subtly manipulates things around her to get what she wants. It's similar to Aria, but she's much more mature and knowledgeable, and has a much less petty goal.

Guess what? 10/10. Yeah, I know, I'm terrible at grading, sue me.

4. The Twins Siblings' New Life (쌍둥이 남매의 뉴라이프)

Premise: Arien and Arjen were a pair of twins that died in Korea, and were reborn again as twins and as the Emperor's illegitimate children. Now, with only each other to trust, they must do their best to survive.

My current obsession. I really like this one. The art is not on the same level of pure Awesome like the ones before, but it's pretty good nonetheless.

The plot is pretty nice, but I must warn you: DO NOT expect them to act like adults. Honestly, just forget they're meant to be reborn in this world. They're just normal children and that's it. They act like children, and they think like children. Honestly, I think the author just wanted to make this story about them as children and their producer went and said to make them reincarnates because that Isekai shit is popular nowadays (And to justify they having memories of their newborn days). Seriously, just ignore it, the experience reading will be much better.

Other than that, the story develops nicely. The characters are all very good and the plot is very mysterious. I am holding myself back to not spoil anything, aaaaa.

There is also only one another thing that disappoints me: Arien is very clearly the MC. The story is told by her eyes and we only know what Arjen thinks or feels when he says it 9 or by subtext). I really wish it was more balanced, because they're both different people and have different perspectives, and also I really like Arjen.

I have absolutely no idea where this plot is gonna go, and honestly? I like it. It's very rare when I don't know how things are gonna develop because of other stories, so it feels very fresh.

The brothers are freaking awesome. I was so scared they were going to hate the twins and be petty, because of other manhwas that are like that, but they're so loving and sweet?? All hail these idiots. Also, Daddy is the biggest dumbass of all, this poor clueless man.

An 8/10, because of the complaints above. Still a good read, and I really like it, even with it's defects.

4. I'm A Stepmother, But My Daughter Is Just Too Cute! (계모인데 딸이 너무 귀여워)

Premise: A seamstress dies of overwork in Korea, and wakes up in the body of Abigail, the vain Queen, and the evil stepmother to the princess Blanche. Yes, It's like she stepped into the world of Snow White, and she must now do her best to live and.. Dote on Blanche with toys and dresses as much as possible?

Again with the awesome art and nice plot. Why are there so many manga with awesome art?? I'm so envious.

May all hail this crispy, delicious art.

Abigail is a whole mood, and I enjoy how she is inserted into the life of someone who had already lived and had a reputation. Her actions baffle a lot of the characters, as do her motivations, and I'm here for it.

The King has also an amazing backstory that's very tragic and yikes. I enjoy it, really. Not something you see in men's backstories that much.

Also, I'm kinda saddened by the fact the MC and the king are bound to become an actual couple. They would be such good platonic friends stuck in a political marriage. I was robbed, y'all.

Abigail greatest ambition is to get to design a dress for Blanche and have her wear it, and you know what? Good for her! Sometimes, it's good to have an MC that is not plotting against world at large.

Also, her mirror? Verite is simply perfect, I love this guy. I non-jokingly ship him with Abigail more than her with the King.

Blanche is a sweetheart, she deserves to be in my "adopted children" wall.

For now it's more of a Slice of Life than anything? But I also don't know what happens in the novels, so I'm just going to wait.

For the current lack of a grater plot, this gets a 7/10. Still pretty good and entertaining, especially for when you just don't feel like trying to understand deep plots with lots of elements.

5. Beware of the Brothers! (그 오빠들을 조심해!)

Premise: Another one of those "I lived my life and then wake up in the past." Hari was adopted by this family after the death of their only daughter, and although her parents love her, her 3 older siblings very much don't. She lives a miserable life in their hands, and when it's the night before she is to get married and finally escape her brothers, she wakes up in the past, and has to deal with them all over again.

Another nice art one, and the background characters are very nice, as is the MC.

But for me, it has a big problem. And that problem is the main ship. It's Hari with her eldest brother, Eugene. Even though they are not related and yadda yadda yadda, they were raised as such, and thus it bothers me. Also, Eugene is as plain as white bread and just as generic when seen as the Male Lead.

I ship Hari with Johan, even though I know it's not gonna happen, Ugh, the pain..

For me, the main point in this is Hari's relationship with her other siblings and the other background characters. I'm here for that wholesome sibling interaction. Her relationship with Erich, specially, is awesome. I love these two so much

It also kinda lacks a plot? Other than the relationship development and their story as a family, but again, I have no idea how they will develop this.

Also, pet peeve? Why do they keep using Oppa instead of translating it properly as brother? I get honorifics and stuff, but it's so annoying.

I give it a 6/10. Good characters and good relationships outside of the bloody incest thing, and it's a good enough way to pass the time.

There are two more that I've read, buut it's like 4am and I'm sleepy as all hell, so I'll just add it in a reblog or attached post later, and I plan on doing this for other future manhwas as well.

Do you have any recommendations or comments or just wanna talk about any of these manhwas? Hit me up!

#The villainess reverses the hourglass #the monster duchess and contract princess #i'll be the matriarch in this life #I'm a stepmother but my daughter is just too cute!#Beware of the brothers!#manhwa #webtoon #manhwa recommendation #isekai

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