#it's a bus ticket not a marriage

[tehjleck]

again with this tired shit...

If the Democratic Party took trump's threat to democracy seriously, (as they should), they would be begging Biden NOT to run for re-election or begging ANY other Democrat to run against him in the primaries.

Biden is SO deeply unpopular that at the **best case scenario** he's tied with trump.

Imagine being so god awful that trump is seen as more trustworthy than you on nearly every issue.

It's the most ridiculous gamble to prioritize the ego of an 81-year-old genocide enabler, over the stability of an entire country.

You HAVE to give people a viable alternative.

Democrats and other left-leaning voters are NOT going to vote for trump, but not enough of them are going to vote for Genocide Joe either.

There's just over a month until primary voting starts.

We NEED an alternative.

[macgyvermedical]

Moving vs Fleeing (and what you need to flee)

I was on a call last night with a very reputable LGBTQ+ organization in my state that discussed the difference between moving and fleeing.

Essentially, moving is planned. You get an apartment and a job in another city- hopefully you visit that city to scope it out. Then you move your life. It takes, at minimum, months.

Fleeing is unplanned. Something is happening that is so bad in your area that you have to cut and run. It may not be police at your door. But it might be legislation that prevents you from using restrooms without the risk of being killed or arrested. It might be lack of access to medications and something that makes it illegal to get those medications in a different state. It might be the classification of your life (as someone gay or tans) as a sex crime, and sex crimes being punishable by death (a goal of project 2025).

And, they recommended, get things together before it gets to that point, even if you aren't sure that it will happen, so fleeing is as easy as possible if you need to do it.

Here's what you can do:

Pick a location you can get to either by bus, train, or car that has a good track record for your needs and that you think you could live. Do your research- are there jobs there in your field? Housing?

Then get yourself a bag or large backpack.

Get a file folder and put your documents in it. I mean things like your passport, your birth certificate, your social security card, copies of any professional licenses you have, a checkbook, name change documentation, copies of financial documents like mortgages, copies of insurance cards and policies, copies of marriage licenses, and a copy of your driver's license. These are things you might need if you have to prove your identity or get a job or apartment. Then print out maps of several routes to your destination. Put the file folder in the bag.

Add to that: a couple of changes of clothes for each person including a hat and a cloth or disposable face covering (people don't question them as much since the pandemic, and they're convenient to hide your face). Lightweight, caloric foods for at least 3 days that don't require cooking (protein bars work great for this). A month of medications and an emergency script for each medication for each person (get a paper prescription from your doctor that is good for a year or the max allowed for each medication) if you can get it. Pay out of pocket with a coupon card if your insurance won't cover your refill early. 1-2 containers of baby wipes so you don't necessarily need to shower. An empty water bottle for each person. A phone charger.

Buy a gift card that can be used for anything. I won't say how much because I don't know your situation, but make it enough that you can pay for gas or bus/train/airline tickets to your destination and (if you can) temporary lodging/food once you get there. Gift cards are less traceable than debit/credit cards and aren't easy to cancel. An alternative is cash, but that can be an easier target for theft if people see you with it.

Finally, bring something of comfort, like a blanket or memento or stuffed animal.

[traveler-at-heart]

What we were

Summary: After losing Clint, your marriage and family begins to fall apart. Will Natasha be able to go back to what you once were?

A/N: This is going to be four chapters, but most of it is written. It’s a mix of angst, hurt and comfort. Obvious warning, there’s a major character death. Natasha and R have a daughter.

Time was unforgiving.

It had been six months since you lost Clint. Two since you asked Natasha to move out.

Four hours of sleep was the most you could get each night. 

Time heals everything, people say.

Then, how come, the more time passed, the worse you felt?

Thoughts like these invade your mind, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. Like now, when you’re waiting for your daughter’s school day to be over. Leaning over your black Mercedes, you wish that your injured leg could be less of a bother and instead of driving, you could walk to pick up Anya and get distracted by the sights of the city.

The school bell rings and the quiet classrooms are full of murmurs, books stored away and steps walking -some rushing eagerly- to the exit.

Impossible to miss, Anya’s red waves are the first thing you spot. Raising a hand, she says goodbye to her friends and walks your way. 

“Hi, darling” you sigh against her head. 

She’s getting taller and maybe next year she won’t let you hug her. Maybe she’ll even want to take the bus while you anxiously wait for her return home. But now, she’s still a sweet child and she still lets you run your hands through her hair. 

“How was Debate Club?” it’s the first thing you ask, because she’d been preparing relentlessly to beat the other team. 

“We won, obviously”

“We should celebrate” a voice joins the conversation. You’re so startled that you drop the car keys.

“Mom!” Anya says, wrapping her arms around Natasha.

It makes you happy that she’s not resentful even after everything that happened. That she can love so unconditionally.

She didn’t get that from you.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt” Natasha apologizes, finally looking at you. There’s a weak smile on your face, what else can you do? “I was thinking we could go shopping for that new game you wanted?”

“Can we please, Momma?” Anya turns to you.

“Sure. Have fun. But don’t spoil your appetite. We’re having lasagna” 

“Mom, our favorite” Anya nudges the Russian and you look away.

“I’ll have her home by 6” Natasha saves you the embarrassment of being forced to invite her.

“Have fun” you wave goodbye, heart beating fast.

Breaking the speed limit, you rush home. But the tears start running long before you’re parked.

You look at your sad reflection in the rearview mirror.

Natasha looks better than the last time you saw each other.

Maybe all she needed was to be away from you, to be happy again.

--

Two glasses of wine later, you’re curled up on the sofa watching your favorite comfort show and feeling better. 

“What’s up, Buck?” you answer at the second ring of your phone. 

“Are you ok?”

You look at the half empty glass of wine and decide that no, you’re most definitely not ok.

“Sure, why you ask?”

“I just saw her driving with Anya” 

“Mhm” you look at the clock. 5:55 PM. She’s trying to be a responsible parent, at least. “Yeah, she showed up at school today. It’s good that they spent time together”

“Want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t want you two fighting in my front yard. Thanks, though”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, ok? And if you feel like it, we can go to that Broadway show on Saturday. I got us tickets”

“Thanks, Buck” 

“Ok, she’s parking outside now”

“You followed them all the way here?” you jump out of the couch, looking out the window.

“What? I was worried!” 

“Sometimes I think it’s not so great that you live a few blocks away, you weirdo”

“But then I bring coffee and scones and you change your mind” 

“Yeap”

“See ya, doll”

“Bye, creep”

“Oh, come on!”

You let out a laugh at his protest. Wanda and Yelena have been texting you, so you scroll, smiling at the silly pictures of Fanny or the videos of Tommy and Billy doing their crazy science experiments. 

“Hi, Ma” Anya rushes past you. “Gonna change for dinner”

“Mmkay” you nod, texting Bucky to make sure he’s actually back home, and not slashing Natasha’s tires. 

“So…” 

“Nat, jeez” you drop the phone, not even aware that she is still here. She looks at you across the kitchen island. 

Don’t think how sad it is that she looks out of place here, where it used to be home.

Don’t cry in front of her.

Don’t.

“Sorry, I’ll say goodbye and leave” 

“Anya, your mom’s leaving” you busy yourself in the kitchen, looking away.

“So soon?” the girl peeks around, pouting. “We haven’t even played the game yet”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you give up, unable to say no to your daughter. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m always making extra anyways”

Because you were used to cooking dinner for three. 

Anya is happy to set the table, but you sit next to your daughter, leaving Natasha in front of her. You try to stay focused on Anya and school: the debate club, sports activities, a month in Europe for the best students. 

“Mom, do you think I can reach out to aunt Carol? I have some Astronomy questions”

Natasha immediately looks at you, but you’re hyper focused on the bottle of wine and pouring the last of it until your glass is filled to the rim.

“Uh, she’s not... I’m not sure where Danvers is, sweetheart. She left Earth a while back” 

“Oh, ok” the girl nods, looking at you with a frown. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting? What did Doctor Cho say?”

Crap.

“What’s wrong, det…?” Natasha asks, looking at you. The pet name almost rolled off her tongue.

Everything. Everything is wrong, Natasha. 

“That old injury from our outlaw days. Doctor Cho gave me some pain killers. But I don’t think I’ll take them, they make me too sleepy”

“We’ll do the dishes” Natasha jumps in. “Don’t worry about it” 

“Thanks”

The dishes are the least of your worries, but it’s still a nice gesture.

Maybe when she’s finally ready to ask you to divorce her, you’ll be able to coparent. 

“Here, let me” she asks as you approach with the empty glass of wine. “Did Doctor Cho say anything else?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter, watching as she washes the dishes.

“She said surgery might make the pain go away. Actually, there’s a 90% chance it will work. But Anya’s got school and I’d have to do bed rest for at least five weeks. Maybe during winter break” 

“I can take care of her. Drive her to school or cook dinner or…”

“You’re a terrible cook” you remind her. It’s meant to be a joke, but also a way to make her stop.

You don’t want to be a burden for someone who doesn’t want you anymore.

“Wanda could teach me” 

“She’s too busy making sure the twins aren’t building a nuclear weapon in the garage” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks, almost afraid of your answer.

“Can you take her to school tomorrow?” you finally say, without providing further details.

The truth is, you’ll probably cry until you fall asleep, because you miss Natasha and this is the first time you’ve seen her in two months. 

And it would be better if you could sleep in, make an appointment with your therapist and then find a way to look composed by the time you have to pick your daughter from school. 

“Absolutely” 

“Thank you” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N” 

The way she says your name makes you want to scream. 

--

Natasha’s long gone, Anya sleeping peacefully back in her room.

You’re looking at the ceiling, tears rolling down your face and soaking your pillow.

You miss her so damn much. You love her so much.

And you also hate her. And you hate yourself for loving her.

There’s a soft knock at your door. You know it’s not Anya because she would have turned on the hallway light.

“Hey, weirdo” you look at Bucky from across the room, smiling sadly. He approaches you and wraps you in his arms. You sob against his chest, feeling like the sadness will last forever.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok. Let it all out. I’m here”

You don’t know when you fall asleep.

--

A lot has changed in such a short time, but by now, Anya is used to the sight of her uncle Bucky, rotating between the few breakfast foods he can make without burning everything.

“You read my mind” Anya watches as he makes blueberry pancakes.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” he mumbles, impressed at how silent she was.

“No, because my moms are spies and so is my uncle and my other aunt and basically half my family”

“Smart ass,” he chuckles. “Come on, eat your food before it gets cold”

“Did mom eat anything yet?” Anya sits on a stool, eating on the kitchen counter.

“Your mom’s asleep” Bucky says. In fact, you cried, had a panic attack, a couple of nightmares, woke up to drink some water and then fell asleep at 4 AM. 

Basically, the usual for the past two months.

He’s so caught in his thoughts that he forgets to flip the last pancake. A knock on the front door snaps him back to reality.

“Can you turn off the stove? And pack your bag, we’re leaving in five…” Bucky yells over, opening the door without looking through the peephole first. He’s surprised to find Natasha on the other side “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up my daughter” 

“Does Y/N know?” He's holding on to the door so hard that the wood cracks.

“She asked me to drive Anya to school”

“Ok, I’m ready” Anya announces, aware that her mother and uncle aren’t on the best terms. She walks between them to make sure they won’t punch each other. “Bye, uncle, thanks for breakfast” 

“Have a good day, sweetheart. See you Saturday”

“Right, for that musical, Beaglejuice”

“Shut up” he chuckles, kissing her forehead. Anya leans forward and hugs him goodbye.

Natasha is silent for most of the ride. Anya is looking out the window, uncertain of her mother’s mood. Maybe not saying anything is safer.

Three blocks away from school and Natasha hears herself blurting out what’s been on her mind this whole time.

“Does Barnes stay over a lot?”

“I guess” Anya mutters, still looking out the window.

“Well, do you know…”

The girl has enough, turning around to face her mother. There’s nothing but resentment in her eyes as she tells Natasha everything.

“Mom cries herself to sleep every night. Ever since you moved out, it's been hard for her to get up in the morning and act normal, let alone cook breakfast. So yeah, uncle Bucky is around all the time, just to make sure she’s at the very least alive. You’d know if you still cared about us” 

“Anya…”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way, thanks for the ride” she mumbles, opening the door and rushing away. Natasha is stuck in traffic, so all she can do is watch her daughter from the car.

Just when she was starting to make things right, she fucks up again.

--

“Thanks for breakfast” you say, mouth full of pancakes.

“More like lunch” Bucky corrects.

You nod, reaching for the maple syrup. 

“So, why’d you ask Natasha to drive Anya to school?” 

“Is that why my door is almost broken in half?” 

“I’ll fix it”

“You better” you mumble. He is still staring and you shrug your shoulders. “Just experimenting how co-parenting is gonna be when we officially divorce”

“So, you are asking her to divorce you?” 

“She’s gonna ask me. Sooner or later” you keep your head down, playing with your food. You’re not hungry anymore.

“All things considered, the ball is in your court”

“Buck” you plead, dropping the fork.

“I’m just saying” he approaches your side. “You’ll only be able to heal once you know what you both want. But running away won’t help”

“You sound like my therapist”

“But does she cook you breakfast?”

“For what she’s charging me, she should, actually” both of you laugh. And damn it, you know he’s right. “Thank you, for worrying about me. And for taking care of us these past few months. I’m sorry I’m such a mess”

As if on cue, tears start streaming down your face. Bucky hugs you, kissing your head.

“It’s ok”

“I know you hate it when people cry, I’m sorry” 

“Yeah, but I hate it a little bit more when you’re the one crying”

--

Luckily for your therapist, you’re all cried out by the time you reach her office. Instead, you discuss how it would be better to approach Natasha, who has always struggled with communication around difficult topics.

“I’m very happy with this session. We’ve made great progress” Doctor Thompson says and you put your fist forward.

“Fist bump” you encourage her.

“I’ll get my license taken away if we ever do this again” 

For the first time in months, you leave her office feeling a little bit lighter. 

Until you check your phone. 10 missed calls from Natasha.

“Nat?” you answer as she calls again.

“Is Anya with you?”

“I was about to pick her up from school” there’s a pause. “You did drive her to school, right?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot” she shoots back.

“Well, I’m very confused because she’s only about to end her last class. Why would she be anywhere else, then?” you retort.

“Just meet me back home, ok?” she pleads.

“Fine”

She’s pacing on the sidewalk as you park.

“Care to explain?”

“The school called me an hour ago. She sneaked out after recess” 

“Let’s just track her phone” 

“It’s off”

“Well, fuck” you run your hand through your hair. “Did she say anything to you this morning? Did she seem upset?”

Natasha looks away, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I asked her if Barnes was staying over often”

“Natasha, for fuck’s sake” you sigh, turning away from her. 

Don’t shout. You won’t solve anything by screaming at Natasha.

Your daughter is missing because your wife can’t keep her jealousy to herself. So fuck it.

“If you want to know anything, you ask me, Natasha, do you understand? You don’t go questioning our 13 year old daughter, who, by the way, has been through enough shit lately. I’m trying to protect her and you’re here implying I’m sleeping with the only friend who isn’t tired of me being a mess. Which, for the record, I’m not. And would never. Unlike you, I’m not going around fucking people outside my marriage because I’m having a hard time”

“I don’t know how to get close to you, Y/N. You pushed me out ever since…”

“No! You don’t get to put this on me. I tried for months. I tried everything. And you scoffed and ignored and stood me up. I gave up the moment I found you in bed with Carol” 

Your voice breaks at the last part. That memory has been buried for so long; you want it to stay hidden, forever. 

It doesn’t matter. You need to find Anya.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Buck” 

“I’m here. I’ll help you find her” 

“I’ll find my daughter alone, thank you” you walk past her, waiting impatiently for your friend to pick up.

“She’s my daughter too”

“You sure as hell haven’t acted like her mother in a long time, Natalia” 

You walk away, your back turned to her. 

“Buck” you say, voice trembling.

“I know. She’s at the Met. Hasn’t left. I’m outside, just in case”

“How did you…?” 

“I’m sorry. I was hoping I could convince her to come back before you found out she sneaked out of class”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can” 

--

Again, those soft waves of red are the first thing you spot in the room. Her blue eyes are fixed on Degas and his Dance Class.

“Hey, kiddo” you stand next to her, understanding immediately why she’s looking at this painting. “We still have your ballerina shoes somewhere in a box. Your mom loved going to your recitals” 

“I’m sorry for leaving school” 

“I played hooky a couple of times. It’s part of life. I just want to make sure you’re ok” 

“She doesn’t care if you’re able to get up in the morning but gets jealous because someone is taking care of us” 

You sigh. Anya has Natasha’s heart, after all. She loves and protects fiercely.

“That’s not exactly true. Come with me” your daughter takes your hand as you leave the museum. 

Central Park is still looking beautiful, even as fall approaches. Anya plops down on a bench and you take a seat next to her. A small groan leaves your lips. This damn leg.

“You know your mother was raised to be an assassin. The Red Room taught her that love was a weakness. And that she was incapable of having a family or people that cared about her. Even after all these years, insecurity can get the best of Nat sometimes”

“Why can’t we just… go back to what we used to be?” she mumbles, a tear rolling down her face.

“Oh, sweetheart” you hold her against your chest. “I want nothing more in this world” 

“I miss her”

“Me too, Anya”

“It’s like we lost her the day uncle Clint died” she sobs.

“But she’s still here. And she still needs you, my sweet girl. I’m not saying you should forgive her right this second. But don’t build a wall around yourself, please”

“Ok” 

“You know I lost my mom when I was 15. And a lot of that time I spent it angry at her for staying with a man that wasn’t good to us. But once she was gone, all I wished was that I had made her life a little easier”

“I’m sorry” 

“It’s ok. I’m glad I’m here, to make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did. We’re gonna be alright, I promise” 

“I love you”

“Love you too, kiddo” you keep her in your arms for as long as you can, but a light rain begins to fall. “Come on, now. Bucky’s been waiting for us”

“I know. I saw him following me on the bus here”

“My God, I don’t know which one of you is scarier” 

Anya giggles, and you take her hand. 

Even between all of this mess, she’s the one thing that makes everything worth it. 

--

Anya was the one that texted her mother, apologizing and letting her know she was ok.

You didn’t reply to Natasha’s text. “I’m sorry” isn’t enough sometimes.

After pizza and an intense game of Jenga with Anya and Bucky, you call it a night.

You know what you’ll dream of tonight, but you’re too tired to care.

[faghubby]

Camp Happy part1

"Just go" Stephanie said frustrated

"I don't want to go and leave this unresolved" I told her

"Well I don't want to talk about this anymore right now. And if you don't leave you will miss your train" she pointed out.

"I don't have to go" I told her.

"No, you are going my mother spent a lot of money on that trip for you" Stephanie reminded me.

"I love you now go" Stephanie kissed me on the cheek. I opened the door I looked at my watch grabbed my bag and rushed to catch my train. I turned to watch Stephanie drive away. It was a 4 hour uneventful train ride. I reflected on what to do aboutStephanie's insisting on letting her mother move in with us. When i arrived I was met by two men that looked like they spent all thier free time in the gym.

"Paul Drover?" One asked

"Yes" was all I said. The other grabbed my bag and showed me to a big pink bus. There was another man already on the bus. I stared at him. It was a man but he had bright pink hair and large earrings. I decided to sit in the front seat to avoid him. Another man got on after me. He was a chubby man that didn't look at anyone in the face just kept his eyes down. We waited a few minutes when another man got on. He seemed quite normal. I was surprised by the group. I understood this was a survival camp thing. I figured my mother law had gotten it thinking it would toughen me up alittle. She had never been impressed by me. Always thinking Stephanie could of done better.

It was a long drive out into the woods. It was getting late when we arrived. We got off the bus.

"We will take care of your luggage" one of the men told us directing us to a cabin that had an sign that simple said check-in. The man with pink hair led the way. Like he had been here before.

"We need to sign in" he told us in a soft voice. We all signed in and waited a woman's voice called us one at a time from down the hall. Once called no one returned. We sat quietly. I was called and headed down the hall.

"Paul?" A beautiful woman asked looking up from her desk.

"Yes" I said and went to shake her hand. She just looked up at me with a smile.

"Please sit" she said firmly

"Now it seems Francis sent you to us" she stated

"Yes, my mother in law bought the ticket for my birthday" I stated

"How nice of her" She said staring straight into my soul it seemed.

"And your wife is Stephanie?" She asked I had not even caught this woman's name.

"Sorry I didn't catch your name?" I said

"Ms Kelly" she informed me.

"Kelly I didn't get much info about the activities here" I said

"Ms Kelly" she corrected me.

"And it's quite simple, we help men become better husband's. We evaluate there weaknesses and strengths and help them discover what they truelly want and need out of their marriages" Ms Kelly stated.

"I thought this was a survival camp?" I said confused

"It is we will teach you how to ,are your marriage survive" Ms Kelly told me.

"Now I need you to go with John" she stated as another large man appeared in the doorway. "I need you to fill out all of these forms and survey" she handed me a binder with my name on the front of it. I got up and John led me to another building that I could only call a library. Although it was rustic like all the other buildings. He showed me to a seat for from anyone else. Several other men where there filling out paperwork as well.

I read the first page of instructions. It was important that I filled out everything as openly and honestly as I could. It also explained it was completely confidential and would not even be shared with Stephanie. At first it was normal. Health questions. Then it seemed to be moral questions, not all where direct mostly like if you found money would you return it. Then there where personal questions. How often do you have sex.? Have you ever kissed a man? There where hundreds of questions.

It took two hours at least to finish. I was bought dinner of grilled trout and rice. I ate then finished the forms. John took it loomed thru it making sure i didn't skil any questions. He put it down and pointed to a question I had not filled in.

It asked how big my penis was hard, and soft. I had skipped ot thinking it irrelevant.

"Every question" he told me. I frowned and filled it in not letting him see. Then handing him back the binder. He them led me to a bunk house. I had my own room but it was small simple a cot, and small wardrobe. I was tired and fell asleep as soon as my head it the pillow.

I woke to a trumpet being blasted thru loud speakers. I found a toiletries bag and a robe. My bag still wasn't in my room. But I went to shower and brush my teeth. The showers where gang type like in high-school. There where a dozen guys showering as I went to get in the shower a black man in a staff uniform stopped me. He handed me a pink razor.

"Your wife showed an interest in having you shave" he stated. I felt very vulnerable being naked in front of this man.

"Excuse me" I whispered

"Stephanie wants you to shave everywhere" he stated. He knew Stephanie's name? I just stepped in the shower. Others got out. There was another man shaving his legs. I looked over at the large black man. He was not going to let this go I thought. I saw a small bench I went to it and saw woman's shaving cream and more razors. I shaved lathered my legs and shaved them I kept glancing over at the large black man.

"I can help if you" a meek voice said behind me. I looked uo to see one of the guys from the bus holding a pink razor as well. I just nodded as we helped each other shave our backs even our asses.

"You can't leave any" he told me as he spread my cheeks. "They check" I was completely humiliated. By the time we where dome. I returned to my little room almost in tears. My dirty clothes where gone as well I noticed. I had no choice but to wear the pink sweats even the underwear was pink, socks and shoes where pink.

A knock on the door before I could answer in walked a woman of maybe 50.

"Paulie, good your dressed. I evaluated your file" she stated. "Francis seem to believe you don't deserve her daughter, because you are unmotivated and weak mentally and physically. Stephanie believes you need to learn to trust her judgment and help out more. She also rates you unsatisfactory in the sex department." This woman said as matter of factly.

"I don't understand" i started

"May I finish?" She said annoyed. I just lowered my head and fell silent.

"Now since you arrived you have been nothing but passive and submissive to everyone. And your own evaluation shows you to be not only submissive but seeking someone to control you." She looked uo at me but I couldn't look her in the eyes.

"While here we are going to help you learn to harness your nature. You will obey all staff. No matter how odd or outrageous you feel their request is. Any defiance will be punished. Do you understand?" She asked. I nodded.

"Correct response is yes Ms or Sir" she told me.

"Yes Ms" I said clearly. She opened the door.

"This is Mr Terry" she introduced a black man. She turned and left.

"I will be your counselor, mentor and whatever else you need." He stated.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr Terry" I said

"Good quick learner" he led me to the dinning hall where he explained he was to serve me. He plainly told me what he wanted and I went and retrieved his breakfast. I was then sent to get my own. Where Terry got bacon and eggs coffee. I was given a bowl of oatmeal, half a grapefruit and juice. I sat next to Terry he towered over me. He explained my duties. I was to clean, cook, do his laundry. Not to worry every step would be taught and explained.

After breakfast he took me to a class on giving a massage. I practiced on Terry. The woman teaching about 6 of us how to give a proper massage and types of massages. Stopped us only long enough to explain differences when giving a massage to a woman instead. It was impressed how much our wives or girlfriends would love this treatment. At one point Terry removed the towel covering his crotch. Exposing his thick big cock. It was soft and still way bigger then me if I was hard. He spread his legs having me massage his inner thigh. I just did as I was told. After we walked down to the lake.

"Paulie, do you realize you didn't even hesitate when I told you to basicly stroke my cock? " Mr Terry asked me.

"Was I suppose to, you know touch you?" I stuttered thinking I had done something wrong.

"Did you want to?" Mr Terry asked. I shook my head and starred at the ground. He laughed and led me down to the lake. We just sat and talked as I looked around I saw men in speedos but also in pink bikinis serving men and woman.

"Some of our guests want to be girls, some want to be little boys, some just want to watch" Mr Terry said as I watched.

"What do you think?" He asked. I just blushed. I was never left alone Mr Terry even went to the bathroom with me. He explained curfews and off limit areas. But also punishments some where severe. Including a spanking which I thought really wierd but not after I thought about what he said about some being little boys.

Mr Terry introduced me to several members of staff. He had reminded me to be proper and polite. I had another class after lunch where again I served Mr Terry. I was feed a simple salad and smooth.

Terry did not stay for the next class. I was given headphones as I watched a instructional video on properly pleasing a woman orally. I was even given a rubber/ plastic model of a virgina so I could follow along when the video ended I was extremely turned on. The instructor a Ms Diane came over.

"Would you like to watch this one as well" she showed me the cover it was labeled how to suck cock.

"No" I started then stopped

"No thank you Ms Diane" I replied she smiled. And hit a few keys and another video started. It went into great detail about other places on a woman she might get pleasure from and how to explore them. It covered eating her ass, sucking and kissing her breasts to nibbling on her ear. At the end I looked up to see the man across from me sucking on a pink dildo. Ms Diane approached again. She touched my thigh.

"You seem excited" she giggled. I blushed. "Take this you can practice tonight when you're alone" she smiled handing me a box with the plastic model of a pussy in it.

Mr Terry was waiting he led me to the medical building.

"They are going to place you in a chastity device" he explained

"Both you and your wife commented on how often you masterbate. This is key that you learn to control your impulse to do so" Terry stayed with me as I was told do disrobe by Doctor James. He took out a ruler and measured my dick. He shook his head.

"You where told it was important to be honest " the Doctor replied.

"I was" I stuttered.

"You are barely 4 inches" he stated. I had stated 5

"I measured from" I tried to explain but fell silent as I saw Terry shake his head. It is also quite thin he pointed out. He fiddled with the cage as he held an pack against my balls.

"Almost the smallest one we have" the doctor laughed. "Would you like to see if you fit in the smallest?" He laughed holding out a device that fit in his palm.

"No sir, thank you" I said scared. Terry hushed me out. I felt so vulnerable this was all to much. I wanted to go home. Terry grabbed my hand as we walked. I looked down then up at him his eyes looked back with concern. As we continued I subconsciously walked closer to him, we stopped and sat on a bench no one seemed to be around.

I burst into tears and leaned against his chest.

"its okay let it out" he said softly holding me tight. I don't know how long I cried.

"Let's go get you something to eat" he told me. We didn't go to the dining hall instead he had dinner bought to his cabin. He had a gorgeous cabin with a little kitchen huge king size bed. A big screen TV.

The meal was simple but good. We shared. But I let him have the bigger portion. He watched sportscaster as we ate. He sat very close to me. Or I sat close to him. He then walked me back to my room before curfew.

In the morning fresh clothes were left for me but this time my underwear was replaced by frilly pink panties.

There was a note from Mr Terry. These will help support the little cage better. I wanted to throw them away but put them on. They felt soft on my smooth ass. I met Mr Terry at the dining hall. The routine didn't change much but my first class was on fetishes. I learned and thought of things I had never even heard about. After I was taken to a room with a phone so I could call Stephanie.

"Hello sweety, how is it going" Stephanie sang over the phone.

"It's un different" I replied.

"Mr Terry says you are doing wonderful" she informed me.

"He did?" I asked

"Of course I get constantupdates. I cant wait to get one of these wonderful massages." We continued on for several minutes she knew everything. She had even recieved pictures of the cage. And loved how I looked with no hair.

"I love you Paulie" she ended the call. I was renewed and excited as I went to my next class. This was about fitness and personal care I was given a personal care plan, that had been decided on by Stephanie and several camp staff.

"Steph wants you to be more soft" Mr Terry told me. I looked at him as I sat in a salon chair.

"Soft, what does that mean sir" I asked

A woman wrapped a cape around me. As Terry tried to explain.

"Did you cover femination in your fetish class?" He asked they did I started to panic.

"Shh it's okay she doesn't want you to be a woman. She wants you to soften your features so you don't look so manly". He explained.

"We are going to dye your hair blond. Thin your eyebrows. Cut your hair a little differently. Give you a mani/pedi

Ms Tina my stylist explained every step of the way. I panicked a little when she painted my nails pink.

"It's not permanent" she assured me. She showed me my hair when she finished and I looked amazing so when she asked if she could use alittle makeup to lift my cheekbones look I agreed. Even allowing her to apply pink lipstick.

"You look beautiful " Mr Terry told me I blushed. He held my hand and led me to the lake. He handed me a pink bikini. I don't even know where he got it from. I didn't hesitate as I put it on Mr Terry helped me tie the back of the top. Before he had me lay down on a chair. He applied suntan lotion All over. I tried to get hard in the cage it hurt as I tried to get hard. He then had me apply lotion all over him. As I laid there I thought about Terry. Was I gay. I wanted to please him. We spent a few hours before we had to rush. I had another class.

This class was boring all about laundry care. Fabrics , stains and such. Then another class on cleaning, dusting, how to clean a window properly. I did try and pay attention I knew Stephanie wanted me to help out around the house. The week went on I had another massage class, further cleaning, I had classes on how to style my own hair or paint nails not only my own. Advanced pleasure classes again on pleasing a woman. But when asked if I wanted to learn how to please a man. I thought of Terry and said yes. I spent an hour trying to suck a dildo.

On Friday it was family visit day. Stephanie made the long trip. She was given a cabin. She loved how I looked and couldn't stop smiling despite being tired. I gave her a massage so she could relax she fell asleep. I was not allowed to stay in her cabin and rushed back to my room. The next morning I served her and Terry. I noticed how they whispered and laughed quietly to each other. I still had classes but Terry took Stephanie on a tour. I found them reading my binder as they sat close on a bench. Mr Terry had been so good to me, and Stephanie deserved more. I thought about Terry fucking Stephanie would she like that. Me and Stephanie had alone time after lunch.

"Terry says you had classes in pleasing a woman" she teased.

"Yes, Ms Stephanie" I didn't even realize it was now a habit to say Ms or Sir to people. "But I am not allowed to until I leave camp" I told her.

"Because of this" she grabbed my cage thru my pants. She pulled them down a little and saw my panties as well. I blushed but she just kissed my cheek.

"Ms Stephanie do you find Mr Terry attractive?" I asked.

"Well that's not exactly appropriate question" Stephanie replied.

"Sorry Ms Stephanie its just that he has been so good to me" I told her.

"Yes , he is very sexy" she told me her hand rubbing my inner thigh.

"I, welll, just um nevermind" I was flustered.

"Are you asking me if I would like to have sex with him? " her hand cupped my balls. "Would it make you happy if I did??" She asked

"I want to thank Mr Terry and I know you have been frustrated Ms Stephanie" I said at a whisper. Stephanie opened my binder to a pic of me sucking on the dildo.

"Are you sure you don't want to thank him yourself" she asked she had me stand and pulled down my pants right out in the open. There where people walking by. Her hand. Rubbed my ass.

"Only if you want me too" I moaned. As I stood in my tiny pink panties.

"Maybe as a graduation present for you, but you will have to work even harder at your classes." She pulled me down to my knees "and that includes deep throating this" she pointed again at the picture. She continued to tease me as she spent the day at camp. Even sitting in on class where I practiced giving her a pedicure. As a reward she had me kiss her feet. After dinner she took me back to her cabin. She stripped naked.

"Show me what you learned in oral stimulation class" she ordered me. I dropped and buried my face between her legs. I was tireless as I sucked and licked her to two orgasms before she pushed me away. Again I rushed back to my room before curfew.

I saw Stephanie at breakfast. But then not again till lunch.

"I had some interesting meetings this morning" Ms Stephanie told me as I ate a simple salad and smoothie for lunch.

"You haven't asked even once about getting out of that cage, they seem to think you like being frustrated." Stephanie told me.

"I also made some personal changes to your classes" Stephanie smiled. Mr Terry just smiled. Terry was leaving after lunch I was allowed to walk her to the bus.

"Keep practicing that tounge baby, I am going to want more of that. and i talked to the administration about you wanting me to sleep with terry. They suggested you have a cuckold fetish. Thay are going to help you realize that" Stephanie told me. She stepped behind me pulling my hair pulled my head back. She ran her hands over my body. Her hand slid down my cheek I opened my mouth and moaned. Stephanie pushed two fingers in my mouth. She moved them in and out as I sucked on them.

"Yes suck them bitch" she said in my ear. "This is much more then I had ever thought. My very own little sissy bitch husband" she said removing g her fingers. She giggled I had leaked leaving a wet spot on my pants.

To be continued

[zoesblogsposts]

o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

[catladyoftheyr]

「 ✦ 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 & 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 ✦ 」

Warnings for: religious trauma, religious guilt, religious abuse, mentions of lent, smoking/drinking, catholic school, sex, violence/fighting, confession, prayer

Notes: this is based off an AU of a fic I’m hoping to get out this weekend where Miguel is an up and coming boxer with a checkered past. This is my! Miguel i make the rules 😘

Poor Miguel embodies catholic guilt to me. I feel like he went to catholic school and never recovered. He’s always had a temper and he’d get into fights with the other boys. He’d come with a bloody lip or a chipped tooth. I know Nuns stopped using corporal punishment in the 70s but this is my AU. Poor Miguel would get an earful and have to stay after to write lines and clean erasers. And if he was especially unlucky, a paddling. All of this only made him more angry.

He learned the Bible backward and forward. He learned his prayers, how to do the Rosary and say the Our Father. Raised to say Grace before every meal, to say your prayers on your knees before bed every night. To thank God for letting you live to see another day. He went to church every Sunday and he got his first communion and his confirmation. The photos are framed on the mantel in his parent’s home.

His anger never went away as he got older. He was known to pick fights, and to get kicked out bars. He was a rebellious teenager, mad at God, and at himself. He felt that it was going to hell anyways, he might as well make it worth his time. He’d sneak out at night, and drink with his friends. He was rowdy, loud, and reckless. He loved to drive too fast and almost got his license suspended before he’d even had it a year because he had so many speeding tickets. He’d jump the subway turnstiles and steal small things from bodegas and drug stores.

As a young adult, Miguel had a steady girlfriend. It was rocky but he was trying his best. He really cared about her and wanted to clean up his act for her. She was patient and tender, just like the Saints were supposed to be. She was a Good Catholic Girl, just what his parents wanted. But Catholic school doesn’t provide sex education. They got pregnant; Their parents pressured them into a hasty marriage before she could start showing. That’s what you’re supposed to do.

They had a beautiful baby girl, Gabriella. Miguel cried the day she was born. He knew he’d love her more than anything else for the rest of his life. He tried so hard to get his shit together for real this time. He got a real job, even. But the pressure to be the strong man of the house got to him. He started drinking heavily again, and he’d stay out late. His wife found out he was unfaithful and she left, taking Gabriella with her. Miguel’s bad behavior only gave him weekends and every other holiday.

He felt like the sky was falling, and he spiraled. He went back to church and talked to the priest. He was told to have faith in the Lord to guide him. The Lord was his shepherd and he must be patient and willing to listen. What a lousy shepherd

He eventually landed in prison for a couple years. Assault and Burglary lead to hard time. He got out on good behavior but didn’t have anywhere to go. He found a distant cousin to crash with until he got on his feet. His cousin frequented a local boxing gym, and Miguel fell in love the sport. He was a natural at it, and it was healthy outlet for his emotions.

He was working on a better custody deal with Gabriella’s mother when suddenly she passed away in a tragic accident. Miguel had found himself thrust into full custody. He enrolled the young girl in Catholic school, hoping for her to have a better relationship with God than he did. His life was just starting to be back on track when he met you at the bus stop. You’d dropped your token down a storm drain and he’d paid for your fare. He’d assumed that would be the last time he’d ever see you, but you’d slipped a post it with your cell number in his bag.

Will everything get derailed again? Or will Miguel find another saintly woman to love?

[ramcharantitties]

Raghuvan, teri raah nihare

Chapter 10, part 1

s/n- hey guys, this is the last chapter of my first ever series. Even I am excited to write, thanks to @vijayasena , and since it's kind of huge i am gonna make it a two part fic.

yeh teri aur meri mahaubbat hayaat hai

Akhtar stood by the end of the door. The crowd allowed him to hide from Adikavya and still witness everything. Ram pulled out a ring, sliding it up her finger. The crowd cheered, relatives, friends, cousins. So many relations but not one person close, not one person any of them could talk to. Adikavya pulled the ring from the cushiony box, sliding it up Ram's finger. It was tight. Ram hastily stuck it so it wouldn't fall, just for the sake of ritual and practices. It was visible on their faces, Adikavya wanted to probably run away, and Ram just wanted to get this done. For someone who's going to spend the end of their lives together, they weren't a very joyous couple. They've had their moments together, yes, but Adikavya's swollen face was still more acceptable than the sheer frustration on Ram's.

Adikavya has given the puppet string of her life to fate. Any decision she would make now would be futile, resulting in only one thing, marriage with Ram.

It's surprising how many faces this relationship has seen, but mutual respect and romance was never one of them. She wished he'd leave, go away, he stayed and when he wished he didn't have to see her anymore, she helped him. The curves in the puzzles were too rigid for them to fit.

Akhtar took a deep breath. He knew that even if it wasn't Ram, or anyone, it would never be him anyways. The conversation he had with Sita, or even, the monologue he had, enlightened his own self about a lots of things. Akhtar took a deep breath, crumpling and throwing away one of the two bus tickets he had for the next day.

-----------------------------------------

har lamha ismein jeena

Sita laid in her bed next morning, the slow moving fan like a lubricant to her fast moving thoughts. The window was open, cool air making it's way down her room. She remembered Babai didn't utter a word as she told him about everything. How he never dared to look at her. Not a single universe will hold a reality where she is married to Ram. The blue of her room has started to be less vibrant. She couldn't sleep last night or the night before, the constant moving memories keeping her eyes open. Sita sighed, got up, and went to do the house chores. Laying around will not help her anyhow. It was a Saturday too.

On the other hand, Ram was restless, he paced up and down his room, staring the neatly folded sherwani on the bed. His haldi was done in the morning, as he stood in the center of his room with a yellow tainted vest and dhoti, his body shining golden brown. "Leave the city? No, Babai will be disappointed". He began his homely marathon again, when Jangu came in the room. "Tell Adikavya everything" he muttered to himself, when Jangu erupted- "She already knows everything" Ram sighed, turning on his heels. Ram sat down on the bed, moving around will not help him anyhow.

Adikavya stood by the balcony, her curls falling behind her ears gently swaying with the motion of the wind. She had no choice in this. She turned and leaned back on the railing, rubbing her face. She can't even scream in this house. Sometimes she wished to run away. But then where to? And to whom? Although, all of those question seems less concerning than this marriage itself. And of course, the cousins, giggling, swarmed in, never leaving the bride alone.

mukaddar ki baat hai

------------------------

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the floral decorations that adorned the porch of Adikavya's home. The air buzzed with excitement as family and friends gathered, dressed in vibrant hues, ready to witness the union of two souls in a celebration that promised to be unforgettable. Adikavya, draped in a delicate red lehenga, awaited her moment. The embroidery on her attire sparkled under the lights, and the mehendi designs on her hands told tales of love and commitment. The air was charged with joy, laughter, and the spirit of celebration. The beats of the dhol resonated in every heart, and the colorful dance of the relatives set the stage for an evening of revelry. Amidst the grandeur and celebrations, the wedding was not just an event; it was a tapestry woven with love, traditions, and the promise of a beautiful journey ahead.

Or that's what everyone thought.

Four people were tied with handcuffs, unable to do anything for themselves. The wedding looked like as if the most beautiful thing to ever happen from outside, but the wretched emotions and crumpled hopes said something else. What is always right, is not always necessary. Right now, Ram and Adikavya can be wedded and tie a knot that no one else will be able to break without gaining any attention or insult. Divorce? Adikavya will face a rejection from society. Cheating? Ram will face a rejection from society. Not showing up to wedding? Their families will face a rejection from society. There was no way out. Until someone showed up, broke their marriage and showed the truth about their children to the families. But who will take such a risk?

It was already evening. Ram wished for a miracle, a falling star or a severe earthquake. Ram gazed over the golden waves of ganga, his sight automatically following up the walls of Sita Mahal. He didn't even know when Babai came in the room, but all he saw was Babai closing the window and the wooden and metal sound of windowsill scraping. "Get ready" was all he said.

_______________________

Sita stood by the flowing water of Ganga, the golden light reflected, throwing an image of the moving waves on her. It was already evening, so she should get ready. Her anklets jingled as she stepped in her room, the loneliness echoing. Sita was not unfamiliar with the feeling, the dread of getting ready, dancing in front of men who had no courtesy for emotions or any sentient. She missed his brown eyes, and the soft looks, his sight that never left her eyes. Akhtar was right, she has started to think about him when she isn't thinking about anything. There was physical pain in her heart, seeping in her stomach and throat, wanting to burst through her eyes.

The chatter has already started to be audible, when Sita entered the court. Her golden lehenga matched the shining glass dome, her face bright as the moon. Yet it looked like the soft winds of sadness had pulled a dark, nighty cloud over it. The pakhawaj players were ready, and so was the evening. It was time for her to dance and continue on with her job. Like every Saturday, once a week, four times a month, and fifty two times a year. Sita danced on her routine, her hands splayed in an artistic manner which only resembled the beauty of her dance. Her body moved with the beat, the taal, but her mind couldn't. Her mind only repeated the things she has been suppressing ever since Akhtar left.

She started taking turns on her heel- one, two, three, four, five, and that's when her body and mind started absolutely deviating.

“What if you never come here ever again?”

Another turn.

"you are going to regret it for your life"

Then another.

"No one will come between us"

Then another.

"you are going to find everything in the world that is even remotely close to him"

Then another.

"Just thinking about it isn't enough, Sita"

Then another.

She tumbled over, by disbalance, landing straight on her palms on the floor.

The crowd was shook. The most delicate dancer, the strongest person ever known to the girls has fallen in front of the audience. Some men hollered, and some knew better to be quiet. Haala rushed over to Sita.

"Didi! What's wrong?" She kept a soothing hand on Sita's shoulder, to find her body breaking down to her tears.

------------------------------------------------

The scene encapsulated the essence of joy, unity, and the timeless celebration of love that makes this wedding truly extraordinary. The baraat was ready to go. Ram saw himself in front of mirror one last time, and this isn't how he planned his wedding. He thought he'd be happy, content, excited, ready to hop on the horse anytime. He knew that if Babai had decided someone for him, she would be a good wife and daughter in law. But what if even she wasn't ready to be? The air was filled with the rhythmic beats of the dhol, the joyous notes of shehnai, and the energetic dancing of family and friends.

A woman appeared, as golden as a crown, huffing, standing on the door.

Jangu knew in an instant who she was and he knew that if Babai saw her, there will be a chaos unavoidable by anyone. Jangu pulled her to a silent spot, unnoticed by anyone. When he confirmed that Babai was not, in fact, home, he quietly sent her to Ram's room. They didn't have time.

Sita hesitated before knocking on Ram's door. The yellow and orange flowers, brown door and red walls felt energetic, not calming her nerves. Jangu rapidly slapped the door, earning a small "come in" from Ram. Sita's breath hitched. Ram sounded different with her, just not like this. But it's been so long since she has heard the voice. Jangu pushed the door open. Ram stood in a white and golden sherwani, embroidery of red on it. His white pagdi sat proudly on the chair, it's peak fluffed and pointed. Ram looked back at the silent visitor, only to find his beloved looking a bride- to him, at least. Ram has never, in so long, ever has seen Sita dressed in anything but a simple pastel saree. She had tear stuck in the crevices of her cheeks, her eyes bright red, big and wet. Her lips looked bitten and plump. Sita was one of the girls that looked pretty when cry.

kehti hai ishq duniya jise, meri jaaneman

Ram gently slipped his large, warm hand under Sita's huge earring, cupping her cheek. She leaned into his palm, another tear slipping down, meeting his thumb. "I can't" the dam broke, the pain in throat finally making its way out. "I don't have the heart to let you go. I can't do this to myself or even you." She croaked, and put her hands on his chest "Tell me you love me" Sita's eyes showed everything, the expectations, the hopes and the search for truth.

iss lafz mein hi chhupi kaynath hai

tagging- @budugu @thewinchestergirl1208 @rambheemlove @ramayantika @bishh-kanya @chaanv @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @cursedcursives @hopelessdemonic @nerdreader @bitchy-bi-trash @vijayasena

[corpsentry]

ao3 mirror

fandom: your name engraved herein rating: t starring: birdy, a-han

It's three am and you’re barreling down a deserted road at the speed of fast. He’s gripping the handles for dear life; you’ve let go. You’re not wearing anything under your suspenders and your voice is hoarse from shouting. His shoulders are shaking with laughter. “DO YOU LIKE THE COLOR OF MY NEW BIKE?” What color was it again? “IF YOU LIKE IT I DO TOO."

Birdy, on flying.

11.

You stare at him the whole way to the beach. What else are you gonna look at? Any time the two of you go somewhere the whole world narrows down to just him and whatever else happens to be there. It’s always been that way. Him and the old lady snoring in the seat across the aisle. Him and the street papered with calligraphy and movie posters the size of airplanes. Or tonight, him and the cramped sleeping quarters on the overnight ferry, the plasticky curtains and the three-centimeter mattress.

It’s like— here’s the thing, right. The world’s always been plenty interesting to you. You like how it’s full of contradictions. You like the sting of knowing you’ve gotten under someone’s skin, the way anger slides off you like cold water. All your life you’ve lived like that, running backwards and laughing at the moon.

He was the first thing you didn’t have to put on goggles to look at and still found beautiful. When he showed up that day in the pool you forgot you were in a movie for a moment and tried, like a big fucking idiot, to live. God, shit, you could die in that light. But the laws of the world dictated your graduation, your marriage, your first kid. You couldn’t hang out forever between bus rides and train rides, sleep curled up in KTV rooms until you got kicked out by the waitstaff.

Well. You probably could. But he couldn’t. Even now, after everything (and by everything you mean everything, you mean the hell you’ve unleashed on this miserable fuck of a boy for no good reason at all), he’s still— you’re still— You follow him across the country like a damn hoot, buy whatever tickets he buys, yell at him in that voice that you know makes him self-conscious because it attracts too much attention, and he doesn’t do a thing.

He could tell you to fuck off. He could walk away from you, take a sharp turn and start running, though he’d have to really put his heart into it to lose you because you’re better than him at sprinting and long distance and worse than him at everything else (you get distracted by pigeons when you’re playing basketball). He could kill you, for all you care. Might as well. You’re basically asking for it.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t have it in him to be cruel, even now, pushed to the edge of the water.

That’s why you left. That’s why you’re leaving.

10.

“You see, I was the one who stole the balloon and strung it up,” you tell his parents, sitting on the lumpy green chair in their lumpy green living room. “But he said it was him.”

His mom is wounded. His dad is mega pissed off. You’re just there.

They do that for a while— his dad getting more and more mega pissed off at the table, his mom fretting her sleeves to pieces against the wall.

“Fuck. Piece of shit son. Fuck.”

You do not lift your gaze from your hands, which you hold unnaturally still under the table.

“Dear, let’s wait for him to tell us his side of the story…”

“What side of what story? Fuck. He’s not gonna have a damn mouth to talk with when I’m done with him. Goddamnit.”

The floor is tiled with medium-sized white squares. The ceiling light is a single bulb covered with a frosted panel of concave glass. Out of the corner of your eye, leaning against a cabinet, you see a potted plant with big scalloped leaves, mostly dead.

“Which girl was it? What class?” A pause. “Hell, who are you? What class?”

“Dear, we know Po Te, remember?” Muted shuffling. His mom is scuffing her slippers on the floor. You imagine her wringing her hands together the way her son does, bringing them to the back of her neck and looking away. “They’re friends.”

An irreverent amount of time later, he shows up with a bloodied collar and eyes like marbles with bits of gold in them and you have to fight all twelve apostles of god to stay angry. You think you might be one of the biggest pieces of shit the universe has ever produced. You think that your shitbag dad was right about one thing, just one, his whole life.

“What,” he says slowly, like it hurts him to speak, “do you want me to do?”

You rip your gaze away from the floor. “What do you want from me?” He takes one step forward. You take two back.

“What?” What. “What do you want?”

You want, um, let’s see. You want to watch a really good movie, one of those western ones, with violins and guns and lots of crying. You want to eat roasted peanuts out of a shallow dish. You want to go skinny dipping, to tear down the street on a 3 am motorbike, to climb out a broken window and keep going up, up, up, until you punch through the atmosphere and into the stars.

You want to cry.

“I want—” you spit, and you’re all fucked up now but because your throat is closing up the words come out cold and mean, which is exactly what you want and terribly unfortunate.

“—I want you to leave me the fuck alone.”

One time when you were little your sisters took you to the public pool. You were something like seven; they were eight and nine and eleven. There was this giant slide, three storeys tall, that all the kids were lining up to go on. Your sisters wanted to go too but you were too young to follow so they took turns watching you in the kiddy pool. The kiddy pool had a mini slide which you slid down over and over again, pretending you were on the giant slide with everyone else. Your eldest sister was doing handstands in the water when you went down the slide wrong. You hit your head on the edge of the pool, right where the slide should have dumped you into the water. You floated aimlessly for a while before walking over to your sister to tell her what had happened but she ran over before you got there and asked, all panicky: what happened? Where does it hurt? She touched the side of your face, right below where the blood was starting to dry. Only then did you start to cry.

A-han looks you dead in the eye and it’s a little like falling off a motorbike.

“Okay,” he says quietly.

There’s some shouting from both sides. His mom pleads to the air to stop fighting, you’re the best of friends and you think here is someone who could have done something and then keep throwing punches because she should’ve but she didn’t and now it’s too late. His dad is so pissed it’s actually moved him to inaction, although he’s shaking hard enough that the ceiling light is doing a little jig. Or maybe it’s you that’s shaking, you can’t really tell. Your vision’s a little shot through right now. You’re a little in over your head.

A-han inhales and all the air in the room leaves with him.

“Mom, dad—”

Oh no, he’s actually stupid.

“The person I like is—”

You’re so choked up his name comes out more like a scream than a shout. But he hears it, and stops.

“Okay,” he repeats, dry as an Arizona summer. Something in him is giving but not in the direction you want. It is possible that you are crying. You’re a little in over your head. You’re a little in over your head.

You stand in the Chang family’s living room for a moment, counting the number of leaves on the dead plant.

Then you follow him out. There’s nowhere left for you to go, after all.

9.

It made you angrier that he came, actually. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want him to see you at all. If he saw you then you might see him and then it would all come flying out of you like week-old chickenshit, miles and miles and miles of want pouring out of your eyes, ears, teeth. You’d made an art out of hiding the shiny thing in you. Worked yourself to death to make it happen. It’s like— say this whole thing was a movie, right. Then Taichung would be the stage and A-han’s eyes would be the camera. This being one of those sprawling epics, you couldn’t break the fourth wall and let the audience know you were in on the big secret so to prevent that from happening you decided to stop looking at him altogether. Easy. Just don’t look. Don’t look at him, Birdy. Don’t look.

But God is cruel and mysterious in his ways. By the time A-han wheels into the staff room, wild-eyed and frantic, you’ve already lost. And then your shitbag dad clocks him over the head with a chair and your vision flares red and— then, well, it’s really over.

8.

We can’t talk about this.

We can’t talk about what happens in the shower. What would we say?

Before: He hadn’t wanted to give you his motorbike (he never wanted to give you his motorbike) but you asked anyway. It had become a litmus test of sorts; how much could you take from him before he punched you in the face? You’d set this rule for yourself when the new school year began where you were only allowed to talk to him if it’d make things worse. So you asked again. And again. And again, but this last time, you didn’t do it for Ban Ban. It was a Tuesday. You’d dreamed about him the night before, which was the first mistake. Your limbs were heavy and disconnected and your head felt like a watermelon full of bits of other fruit but you wheeled the bike out anyway. The meaningless gray sky followed you around like a dog no matter how fast you went and it was so frustrating, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop even when the road started to spin— the second mistake. You saw it happen through a wide-lens shot like it was someone else who totaled the bike. Then there was noise, chatter, bright spots in your vision. The guy from the stall up ahead insisted on calling an ambulance though you cussed him out hard enough to make your shitbag dad flinch. Eventually they left you alone. You were angry and hurt and bleeding. The fruit cup of your brain was getting put through a blender, as was most of your left arm. In a moment of bottom-of-the-barrel despair, left with nothing but your body, which was ruined, and your heart, which you had yourself broken, you— the third mistake— reached for your phone.

After: You couldn’t stop crying for hours. At some point, he left.

7.

You have this theory that the bigger the gesture is the longer the feeling will last. You are telling yourself this as you haul ass towards the massive balloon that will surely fix everything. You’re not sure how exactly it will fix everything. All you know is that you’re playing an important role and you need as many people as possible to believe it. In that regard, the balloon makes sense. Once you’ve got it up at assembly no one’ll be able to look away even if they want to, although you frankly do not care what anyone wants. You care what Ban Ban wants in a faint, geographical way. You care a little what Father Oliver wants because he gives just half a shit less than all the other adults, which is impressive in a world this boring and dumb. As for the rest of them— whatever. Tomorrow is your confessional. All they have to do is watch.

A-han is here because someone needs to make sure you don’t get caught. That’s all.

“Hey, uh— are you done yet?”

He sounds far away and annoyed.

“Almost,” you reply, look down, and regret it instantly.

You’re grateful A-han’s such a caring and conscientious friend. He wouldn’t let you get caught because one, he’s a nice kid and two, he’s got common sense. If you got in trouble then he would, thus implicated, also be in trouble, which would be bad for him, so…

He wouldn’t do that to himself. He’s stupid, but not that stupid.

“Hey, you know, the thing I wanted to tell you—”

“Yeah?” you say, working your way through the river of knots. Your brain catches up a few moments later. You remember, suddenly, how you tricked him into coming out here in the first place.

There is a brief, meaty silence in which he works up the courage to keep talking while you rip your fingers to shreds getting the rope loose.

“Actually, I—“

You have not done it but you start whooping anyway. The sudden rush of oxygen leaving your lungs makes you light-headed. Five meters down, A-han is trying to tell you the words that will undo you. But all you can hear is the cicadas.

Now you’re tearing down the street on a 3 am motorbike, the helium balloon rippling behind you like a deep-sea jellyfish. Now you’re gripping the edge of the seat and howling at the moon. Now you’re sneaking off during morning assembly, crouching in the grass, setting it afloat.

It’s just a murmur at first but it quickly grows into a storm. Six hundred eyes go wide with wonder.

A-han can barely look at you. You see the emotions flit across his face from your place in line, the rest of your body turned towards Ban Ban, who is blushing like the sweetest dusk. Surprise, curiosity, confusion. Then the click of realization, the shuttering of the eyes.

As the crowd goes wild with the ecstasy of young love, you feel a sick thing surge through you. This must be what people feel like when they take home 100% on a test and their parents give them extra pocket money.

God, you’ve never tried so hard for anything in your life. He’d be so grateful, if only he knew.

6.

Here is the part of the story where you change your mind.

It wouldn’t have taken much to stop you. You wanted to be saved. You wanted to stay on the dark, uneven path that led into the woods. You were just waiting for someone to tell you it was okay to keep going like this, anyone at all, and then it would— it really would be— okay.

But no one did, no matter where you went and how far you wandered.

So it wasn’t okay. You had to go.

5.

If asked, years later, you’d probably say this moment was the worst.

Not the fighting. You’d been beaten up before and you’d get your ass beat again no matter how you tried to avoid it. Not the name-calling, either, though that did reach a new and unprecedented level once they realized no one was going to make them stop. You were just schoolboys being schoolboys, punching each other in the face, screaming each other’s ears off. Standard coming-of-age stuff.

It’s not that everyone within a fifty meter radius was watching. You don’t mind attention. You always liked the sound of your own voice more than anything. It’s not the way the metal grill of the gate dug into your hands and left them red and stinging. It wasn't the moment of free fall, or the impact, or the way you walked funny on your right side for two weeks after. You didn’t make it this far in life on faith alone.

When you were thirteen you decided your name was Birdy. After that, the world became way more interesting. You couldn’t leave it alone— you were always prodding at it or shoving it around, trying to find the limits. You were a one-man circus trying to redefine what it meant to be young and alive in a country that had almost, almost made it out of the dark. Only the rest of them were coming into an age of power, while you were slowly growing aware of a deficit in yours.

The other boys were wrong about one thing: You never wanted to fly. All the living things with wings had already been doing it for thousands and thousands of years; there was no point in starting now when you’d never be able to catch up. You didn’t need to fly, but you couldn’t break. Birdy was a prayer that had to hold no matter what came.

You considered your options. You could try to really do one of the guys in— but you were fast, not strong, and you were terribly distracted by all the noise. You could ask for help, but that would be humiliating. You could try to run, but the hallway was so narrow and there were so many of them and there was so little of you. You’d already gone for the grill once and that seemed to have only made things worse. A-han was this close to socking one of his thug friends in the face. You couldn’t drag this out any longer.

So you climbed onto the railing.

No, this isn’t the worst part.

All their anger liquefied into fear the moment you stood up. One of them, you forget his name, was pleading with you. Look, we’re sorry, come down, come down, please, or whatever. It was so abrupt it was almost funny. You wondered if anyone had ever been this afraid for you before, and concluded that they hadn’t. It occurred to you that maybe your humanity really was this thin, that they’d never regret it unless you died in the saddest, most miserable way possible. You thought: This is fucked as all hell, and I am quite sad.

Then you forgot all about this stuff, because you saw him.

“Birdy?”

Oh, how you hated that he saw you. It would’ve been shitty if he weren’t there but you’d dealt with shitty before and you’d deal with it again. It didn’t matter what happened to you as long as you got to keep Birdy. Birdy was fun and loud and a little crazy. Birdy could outrun the police and out-laugh the gods and got distracted by pigeons in basketball games. Birdy was untouchable.

You flapped your arms, just in case they turned into wings. What do you know, it was a lie all along.

Then you jumped.

There comes a point in everyone’s life when they realize the limits of their own abilities and, simultaneously, the inherent cruelty of the universe.

It sucks that you found out so early. You should’ve stayed young for five, ten, a hundred more years. You deserved to grow up wild and carefree, ricocheting down empty streets and turning in absolutely none of your homework.

But you found out. Okay, now this is the worst part.

At no point did you betray each other. You loved that boy like nothing you had ever known. It lit you up from the inside like a goddamn firework.

You knew. You were aware of the beating of your own heart. It didn’t matter.

4.

Three times you pretend to be asleep.

One: The middle-aged women sitting both in front of and behind you on the bus to Taipei keep you awake for most of the ride. It’s not their fault, not really, and you don’t get mad; you’re just a light sleeper. Always have been. A-han is the opposite. He’s out like a rock the whole time, even when one of the women makes a particularly bad pun and her friend lets out a shriek of laughter just as the bus jolts to a stop at a red light and someone’s baby starts howling its toes off. Meanwhile you nod off a hundred times, tensing awake each time at the sudden warmth of his head, his shoulder, his neck. When the bus pulls into the station, he’s energetic and well-rested. You’re doing everything in your power to let go.

Two: The KTV is his suggestion. You were all like, let’s just get something from a street stall and squat on the stairs until dawn but he noticed you acting funny and correctly inferred your exhaustion. He pays for both of you at the counter. It agitates you a little, though you don’t know why. Later, halfway through your noodles you ask him what would you do if I died and he says don’t think about such dark shit and you think that’s a good answer. Then you lie down and close your eyes because you’re tired. You think maybe sleep will come for you this time but instead you just become deeply, frighteningly aware of his body in the room. He sits for a while in silence— probably thinking about french horns or something. You start to drift. The rustling of fabric jolts you awake. The sofa shudders where he presses his hand into it, centimeters from your neck. You feel him getting closer, a bright bloom of heat traveling through the dark. It dawns on you, suddenly, that he is going to kiss you. Then there’s a sharp knock on the door— just like that, he’s gone.

Three: You were cold, that's all.

You were cold even with your jacket and the half of his body pressed into your side and the jukebox at your back. He was like the first time you jumped into a pool and learned that you could float. The voice of a dead man was ringing in your ears like a hymn, saying our world isn’t as bad as you think, so why are you so sad, why are you so sad…

3.

“I glanced across the room,” Father Oliver is saying, his voice somber and low. Everyone in the room gawks at him without blinking like a bunch of damn ghosts, as if by watching him talk about love they will understand a little more of it themselves. Ha! If only it were that easy.

A-han’s fiddling with the mouthpiece of his trumpet, distracted. Your gaze travels from his hands to the sleeves of his uniform, his collar, his left ear.

“I was looking at him—”

His hands still. He lifts his gaze to the blackboard, eyes unfocused. Father Oliver’s voice fades into the static of the afternoon.

“—and he was, also, looking at—”

And there you are, and have been, all along.

2.

Your love language is gifts. You give him everything you have and then some. Steamed buns, peanuts, the physics exam sheet.

Your love language is acts of service. You feed him juice when he’s supposed to be standing to attention. Cut his hair on the basketball court.

Your love language is physical touch. You clap him on the shoulder, punch him in chest, flick him between the eyes, sling your arm around his neck, sidle up next to him at lunch, high five him for breathing, lie next to him on his tiny mattress eating snacks you stole from the superintendent’s office, clap him on the shoulder again, your hand lingering on his skin while you think about difficult questions like what happens when we die and where do we go after and it wouldn’t be that bad if this is all you ever had. You’d go like this willingly. A whole life pissing into the dorm head’s car while A-han cusses under his breath at silly, crazy Birdy, oh Birdy—

Is this the moment where it ends?

Or is it when the dorm head finds snack wrappers in your bag and he steps into the hallway while you’re down on your hands and feet, getting your ass whipped to pieces? Or is it the first time you show up in his room at night and you watch him give in to you in real time, his whole body deflating as he sigh-laughs and gestures for you to come up to his bunk?

1.

Or is it that day in the pool, when he tells you his name and his class and the whole world slides sideways to make way for him?

You’re seventeen and you know nothing. You know you hate your shitbag dad for raising you angry. You know you hate people who beat the shit out of others for no good reason. You have a lot of hate in you for someone so young, and very little else.

Well. You also have Birdy. And Birdy has A-han, but that’s later. Later you’ll run wild through the deserted streets of youth and laugh until you’re dead. Later you’ll grow up, and it’ll be the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you.

Nothing will hurt after that. Nothing will move you, either.

0.

One time when you were young you transferred schools. You were seventeen and full of anger and loneliness; he was seventeen and shimmered when he moved. There was this thing everyone was talking about back then, this feeling of being able to do anything you wanted. It was 1987 and the world was on its way out. The more the adults said they couldn’t have it the more all the young people obsessed over it. They hopped over gates and made out in cemeteries after midnight. They got in trouble like clockwork.

For what it’s worth, you didn’t give a shit. You were perfectly satisfied with your one-man circus, running around after dark and sneaking snacks out of the superintendent’s office when no one was looking. Sometimes someone was looking and you got caught and it was kind of shitty, but you’d dealt with shitty before and you’d deal with it again. You were the kind of reckless that invited trouble. You knew. You liked it.

One time when you were little your sisters took you to the public pool. It was the first day at your new school and your name was Birdy. When you saw him in the water it felt like you’d been swimming in the deep all your life and been dragged, abruptly, to the surface.

One time when you were little you hit your head. One time when you were young you broke your heart.

You floated aimlessly for a while before walking over to the phone. There were so many things you wanted to say to him but he started talking before you could find the words. He was always braver than you. He would have never jumped, but then and again, you would have never let him get there. Anyway, he said I— my senior wrote this song. I’m gonna play it for you, okay?

He touched your skin right below where you had fallen off the motorbike and cut yourself open, where the blood had begun to dry. He was so worried about you. The water in the shower was running, running, running.

What happened? Where does it hurt?

Only then did you start to cry.

999.

In which year do they fix the world?

In another universe someone sticks their neck out for you the way you did for that other kid. It’s messy, of course. He gets his ass beat for it right along with you but you guys get in a few more good hits too. It’s super worth it. Maybe he’s also— you know. Maybe he isn’t. Doesn’t matter.

Anyway, it’s in the small things. The small thing this random stranger does for you is enough to stop you from ruining the next three decades of your life. It’s absurd, looking back, how easy it was. All he did was say something.

This sets off a chain reaction of random strangers doing small and insignificant things for each other. Maybe five people’s lives are changed. It is revolutionary, though none of them know this. When the thing you are fighting against lives in people’s hearts and grows like a disease, anything you save is a triumph. If you can save anything at all, you celebrate.

In this other universe Zhang Jia Han dials W-A-N-A-N and you dial it back after a period of terrible, but necessary, contemplation. In this other universe you keep going to movie theaters and eating roasted peanuts out of shallow dishes. In this other universe you go back to Taipei.

You go to film school, both of you. You make movies, he writes the songs.

Someone has written this story, I’m sure. Someone fixed the damn motorbike. Maybe you did too, in your dreams, the only place where you could forgive yourself.

But we can’t.

We can write your story, but it has to stay the same.

—.

You’re barreling down a deserted road at the speed of fast. He’s gripping the handles for dear life; you’ve let go. You’re not wearing anything under your suspenders and your sling bag and your voice is hoarse from shouting. His shoulders are shaking with laughter.

“DO YOU LIKE THE COLOR OF MY NEW BIKE?” he shouts.

“IF YOU LIKE IT I DO TOO,” you shout back.

Remember this moment. Remember it when he calls you a year later and plays you the song that will undo you for the rest of your life. Remember it when you graduate, get married, file for divorce, get fired, move to a new city, lose everything.

Remember it when you see him for the first time in three decades and decide that this time you will do things right, because it’s not coming back and it’s not going anywhere: your wild, blemished youth. You were young once and you’ll never be young again. You can start living now, and god, you will But you died once when you were seventeen.

It wasn’t your fault. You searched under every fucking rock and paperweight; you looked for signs in the clouds. But the world failed you. At every juncture in the story, in every scene where someone other than you and A-han was standing there pointing and laughing, it failed you. They were always pointing and laughing at you.

It would have taken so little to change your mind. But even that small, pathetic amount of hope— they couldn’t give it up. You were young once, you were Birdy and A-han and A-han and Birdy, and they let you die.

You lived a subpar life until forty-seven, but at least you lived.

So remember this moment. Look for the laughter lines in his face, the crow’s feet. Notice his old habit of touching the back of his neck when he’s nervous and covering his mouth when he smiles. Remember the feeling of his warm breath on your face, the dim red lights of the KTV room. Remember how it felt when he pulled you out of the water and you emerged, spluttering and coughing into the back of your hand.

"Are you an idiot?" he said, incredulous.

"No," you grinned. "I'm Birdy."

It’s 1987, and you’re unstoppable.

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 3

Propaganda under the cut

Shiv Roy

She's honestly kind of a canonical victim of yaoi almost. She and her husband Tom have a loveless marriage but never end up getting divorced. Tom has a weird psychosexual obsession with Shiv's cousin Greg and at one point literally compares them all to the time Emperor Nero pushed his wife down the stairs and then castrated and married a slave boy named Sporus (Tom is unwell). Anyway the show just ended and long story short Tom is now CEO of Shiv's family's evil company and she is reduced to being his pregnant wife (which is the result of her voting not to authorize either of her brothers as CEO in order to save them from themselves) and Tom made another weird comment about literally owning Greg. And now people who ship Tom and Greg are like "omg it's canon we won" but I don't. Think that they did. Sorry I'm rambling it was just a really good finale idek if this counts but

I will be honest I'm not really tuned into the tomgreg fandom, but tons of people wanted tom to leave shiv and get with greg and tons of people thought shiv was the devil incarnate and refused to see any nuance in her character and I don't think those two things are a coincidence. 

She gets a lot of hate from fans, largely just for being a woman who reacts in a non pretty way to abuse and for doing the exact same shitty stuff her brothers do. But also a large part of the hate she gets comes from the people who ship her husband with her cousin. To the point where people claim she's abusing her husband who views her as an accessory, a baby factory, and a ticket to money. Don't get me wrong, their relationship is incredibly toxic and unhealthy, but it is so on both of their parts. But Shiv's the only one who gets criticized for it

Peggy Carter

She’s a victim of Stucky mainly bc of the way marvel used her to give Steve an ooc ‘happy ending, but I know I’ve seen some posts calling her toxic or something it was 2019 so In CAT:FA, she’s introduced as a confident British agent. She has some chemistry w Steve Rogers (although more fans (on tumblr at least) preferred Steve and Bucky). She wasn’t just *woman who is strong*, but also had some emotional depth, with an actual range of emotion outside of angry and sad. She had a spin-off show, and she just continued to fight Russians and misogynists, even having chemistry in an almost wlw relationship and an eventual marriage to a famous shield agent. She went through character development and just was an awesome character. Then you know what endgame does? It has Steve Rogers travel back in time and take all of that development away. Most fans were mad at Marvel, and a lot were mad at Steve, but some fans threw Peggy completely under the bus, saying that they traded the (fanon?) queer ship/(canon) friendship for a bland love interest, which, um, she was so much more then that? I remember people really disliking Peggy, which isn’t fair to her character when she is/was so much more then that.

Peggy is vilified by people who ship Steve with his war comrade Bucky Barnes. I’ve even seen people claiming baselessly that she was secretly HYDRA the whole time. 

She gets in the way of stucky which OBVIOUSLY gives people, most of them women themselves, the right to be ridiculously misogynistic. Dismissing her character arc, traits, presence in the movies and her part in Steve Roger's life, saying she is insignificant on the ground of very subjective readings is one thing, but outright calling her 'just some old coochie', among other colourful, wonderful things, is another. They also keep reaching to villainize her (saying she's a literal nazi which she's not) and cancel her so their ship is somehow made more valid for it, erasing the competition as it were.

[cap-tveit-ed]

A Sweet Macaroon

Topher x Reader

Trigger warning: Abuse reference

You haven’t been happy since your high school sweetheart, Chris, came home after his sophomore year of college and announced he was dropping out to travel coast to coast and find himself. You loved him deeply, and he broke your heart. Devastated, you married the first guy who asked. Now, it’s 10 years on, and you’re stuck in a childless and loveless marriage. Your husband hit you before, but he’s always controlled himself enough not to smack your face. That changed last night, and you leaned into the bathroom mirror applying makeup to conceal the damage.

“You can’t go to the restaurant like that. People will think I’m a monster,” Earl said.

“I’m putting on coverup. It will be fine. Besides, we need the money,” you countered with the one argument you knew would work.

“Okay, but I’m taking you to see how people react. You can stay if no one says anything,” he said.

This was not what you wanted. You wanted to pack a big backpack, but if Earl was driving, you could only pack a small tote. There was enough money stashed in your locker to buy a bus ticket. Whatever tips you could earn during this shift would be your spending money until you found a new job.

“What’s that bag for?” Earl asked.

You lied, “I always bring an extra outfit in case I spill something on myself.”

He said he never noticed before but was more focused on reminding you it was his bowling night, and he couldn’t pick you up. You were grateful. You took inventory: two t-shirts, a denim skirt, a nightgown, 2 pairs of panties, flip flops, and a few toiletries. You had rolled everything tightly to fit in your tote. You prayed you didn’t forget anything essential.

Fortunately, customers were generous with their tips. You went straight to the bus station after work. The bus drove through the night, but you were too anxious to sleep. You only had one relative who lived outside your town, your cousin Alex in Schmicago. You would see if she could help you get a fresh start.

It was sunny when you arrived in the city. You brushed your teeth and splashed icy water on your face in the bus terminal restroom. It washed off the last of your makeup, but oversized sunglasses were the fashion, and you slipped on yours. It took an hour to find where Alex lived. You double checked the address because it was a junkyard. There was an odd little man in the center, kneading dough on a table. He had a sweet face and long dark hair. He wore a newsboy cap.

“Hello, friend! I’m Michael. Welcome to the tribe.”

You introduced yourself, deciding it would be safer to use your middle name. You explained you were looking for your cousin. Michael told you that you were in the right place, but Alex was off doing odd jobs. He offered you food and took you to her tent. He kindly suggested you take a nap. You slept for three hours.

After spending the afternoon with Alex, she took you to meet her tribal leader. As you entered the large tent, you were shocked to see a ménage-a-trois on the bed. You’d never even seen a dirty movie, and here it was live before your eyes. Alex didn’t even react as the two women were taking turns sucking the man. Another man sat on a cushion checking things off on a clipboard, as if he didn’t see what was happening two feet away from him.

Your eyes should’ve been glued to the action, but instead, you stared at this man. From the angle you were standing, you couldn’t quite see his face, but he had a glorious head of curly hair, and the vest he wore emphasized the definition in his arms. As he wrote, you thought his forearms may be the sexiest thing you’d ever seen, even though there were people having sex right in front of you. He turned to greet the two of you.

You scanned this super-hot guy from his bell bottoms to his face, and your heart jumped into your throat, as you said just under your breath, “Chris-.”

“Topher, this is my cousin y/m/n,” Alex told him.

“Nice to meet you, y/m/n. I’m Topher,” he said, reaching out with one hand while placing his other over his heart. “I’m getting a vibe we know each other.”

You shrugged. Your hair color was different than when you last saw him. Your curves had developed a bit more. You hope the sunglasses hid your face enough to function as a disguise. You’ve dreamt of seeing Christopher again but not like this.

But he reached to remove your glasses and said with surprise, “Y/N?!”

He motioned for the two of you to exit the tent, and he followed. It was evening but still light enough he could see your black eye and the large bruise on your upper arm. He slipped his finger under your chin and turned your head to examine the damage.

“Y/n, who did this to you?” Topher demanded.

Alex replied, “Her no-good husband, Earl. That’s who.”

“Hunterson,” you added.

“You married Earl Hunterson,” he said incredulously.

Afraid you would cry if you answered, you merely nodded, but his hand stayed holding your chin.

Alex asked, “You guys know each other?”

Topher answered yes but provided no other information.

So, you added, “We went to high school together.” (Instead of “We went together in high school.”)

Alex explained to Topher that you needed a place to stay until you worked out your next steps, but unfortunately, she was already sharing her small tent with Marissa and asked for his help in pairing you up with someone else.

“Not a problem. Y/n can bunk with me,” he said.

You and Alex both exclaimed, “What?!!!”

“It’s perfect. She’ll be safe with me. I’m the only one sleeping here,” he said, and pulling the tent flap open, he yelled in, “You guys wrap it up.”

Alex laughed so hard she snorted, and it reminded you of when you were kids.

“I think they might think you mean something else,” she giggled.

Getting the condom reference, you and Topher started laughing, too. The three of you were still snickering when the other three exited. Alex skated off, and you went into the tent with Topher.

“Well, well, well,” he said, but after looking into your eyes with his gorgeous baby blues, he went a different direction with the conversation. “Are you hungry, Y/n?”

“No, thank you. Alex and I ate at the Kander Cafe. I applied for a waitressing job there.”

“Ah, the Absinthe Café, huh? Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder,” he said. “Ooh, I should write that down.”

“Since I can sleep here, I’m assuming you don’t have a wife or girlfriend,” you said.

“My manifesto is to foster love wherever it grows. As such, I no longer believe in the confines of a traditional relationship,” Topher said removing his vest and tank top.

Then, turning his back to you he removed his jeans. As he bent over, he revealed a perfect juicy peach ass, and you just wanted to take a bite.

“I guess you no longer believe in the confines of underwear either,” you giggled.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled. “I thought you might not be as comfortable with nudity as we are. So, I was slipping on these gym shorts. I didn’t think about being nude while changing.”   

“You should be comfortable in your own abode.”

“Sit,” he said motioning to the bed. “It’s time for you to unburden yourself.”

“Pardon,” you asked.

“Let it out. Verbally let go of the weight you’re carrying,” he said and crawled on to the mattress behind you.

You were startled and asked, "What are you doing?”

“I’m going to physically help ease the tension while you emote,” he said.

As his fingers kneaded your neck, you let out the breath you had been holding for the last 48 hours. You knew he wanted you to talk, but you only purred.

“Y/n.”

You managed a breathy, “Yes.”

“Take off your top so I can get to these knots in your upper back."

In a trance, you did as he said.

“I haven’t seen one of these in a while,” he said.

“A knot,” you questioned.

“No, a bra,” he answered.

As his fingers worked their magic, you moaned in gratification.

“Y/n, your sounds are making things…um…hard on me.”

“I can’t help it. I'm so turned on right now,” you answered.

“Then let’s get naked,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded in agreement, and he smoothly unhooked your bra and slid it forward, cupping your breasts with both his hands, causing your nipples to pebble and heat to pool between your legs. Topher turned your face toward him and kissed you deeply. You ran your tongue over his pointed canine teeth that you always adored whenever he smiled.

He got off the bed and stood in front of you. You removed his shorts. He was so hard that every vein in his cock was defined. You dropped onto your knees and licked the glistening precum off his tip.

“Don’t tease, Y/n,” he said.

You stared up at him, and desperately wanting to please him, you begged, “Teach me!”

He contemplated and replied, “Just make love to my dick.”

His direction seemed vague, but you knew each other well enough that it was clear to you. You hoped your enthusiasm would make up for your lack of skill. You started by kissing up and down his shaft, while massaging his balls. He groaned. You took him as far into your throat as you could. He held your hair back and wiped your tears with his thumb until he threw his head back in ecstasy. Just as he was on the borderline, he pulled out of your mouth. You whined.

“It’ll be worth the wait,” he said.

He had you stand. He unbuckled your sandals and removed your skirt. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down, trailing kisses on the outside of your legs as he went. After you stepped out of them, he gently pushed you back onto the bed and kissed his way back up on the inside of your legs, pausing to tickle you behind the knees.

“And there it is,” he smiled, remembering that was a particularly sensitive spot for you.

When his tongue ran along your slit, a pleased sound escaped his lips.

He picked up his head and said, “Baby, you are so wet for me. I love it.”

He dove back between your legs and pushed up your hood with his fingers while he sucked on your clit. You cried out. He slipped two fingers inside of you and curved them forward. You writhed on the bed, but just as you were about to climax, he stopped licking. You whimpered.

“It will be worth the wait,” he promised. “Get on your knees.”

He was so hard when he entered you. His cock hit your g-spot. His hands grabbed your breasts, and he held on as he plunged into you. He hummed and rocked his hips to the same rhythm. His hands slid down your body. He used one to balance himself, while the other pressed on your love button.

“Now,” he ordered. “Come all over my cock, Y/n.”

Topher’s touch and dirty words made you explode like never before. You lost your balance. Your head dropped forward onto a pillow. He held your hips tight while he ejaculated into you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every drop. He held still for a moment before pulling out and flopping on to the bed next to you. You stretched out on your belly and turned your face toward him. He ran his finger along your jaw and leaned in for a kiss.

“That was incredible. You are so beautiful. Even more than you are in my memories or my fantasies," he confessed, pushing your hair off of your face.

Topher laid on his back, stretching out both arms, making room for you to snuggle into him. You draped one leg over both of his thighs and ran your fingers through his curly chest hair. He kissed the top of your head. You were sad and blissful at the same time. You knew you couldn't stay at the commune because you would never be able to share this gorgeous man. You also knew it would take at least a week to figure out your next move, and after a decade of misery, you deserved seven more nights of pleasure.

[jokeroutsubs]

Joker Out on Croatian RTL. Translation by drumbeat

In addition we're adding the accompanying article translation:

They are the most popular Slovenian band. After the Eurovision Song Contest, the concert in Zagreb was sold out in five hours

One has a degree in chemical engineering, the other in philosophy* (T/N: mistake by the article, it's actually sociology), and he says he could imagine himself as a professor at a university.

Do you remember those five guys who represented Slovenia at the Eurovision Song Contest? The audience and the jury didn't like them too much, they finished only 21st. But the Croatian audience loves Joker Out. They announced the date of the concert in Zagreb, and sold all the tickets within five hours.

They want to dance all night, and everyone wants to listen to Joker Out today. They only finished 21st in the final of the Eurovision Song Contest, so even the band members themselves did not expect to be recognized on the streets of Zagreb.

"We already had many fans in Slovenia, we know how to deal with that. But it's incredible that there are fans outside of Slovenia as well," says Kris Guštin , a member of the band.

These five sold out London, Liverpool, Belgrade, Sarajevo and Zagreb, which was gone in just five hours. They thought it would be much more difficult, that they would be selling three thousand tickets for months, but they didn't and now they are getting ready for their first big tour.

"In England, we will use a tour bus for the first time, and we are looking forward to that more than anything else," says Guštin.

Bojan Cvjetićanin adds: "A tour in Slovenia looks like this: you pack your suitcase and go to a concert. If it's more than an hour away from home, then you sleep there, so you don't need to return back in the middle of the night. So this is the first time we go outside the borders of Slovenia where there is no returning home on the same day".

There is no turning back because 10 million people have already listened to their song on Spotify. Europe has learned Slovenian since May, so carpe diem was sung in Helsinki, where Bojan performed with Käärijä, the Finnish representative from the Eurovision Song Contest.

"He invited me as a guest, I sang Carpe Diem and it was incredible that people sang in Slovenian. Later, they stopped me on the street, they asked to take a picture with us," claims Cvjetićanin.

They became friends with the Finn, but also with Let 3, so the invitation to group sex was also mentioned as a joke.

When asked about Let 3's impression, Guštin says: "As people, they are great. As far as I'm concerned, they were in the top 5 of visual performances. They were superb. And they admitted to us that their daughters are fans of our music".

Yes. Younger audiences love them, especially female fans. Bojan is already being called the Slovenian Harry Styles , and there have also been marriage offers.

"I already said that once, if everything fails for us - we can certainly get married," points out Cvjetićanin.

Until a month ago, few people talked about them, today they are an internet sensation who is preparing to be the opening act for Franz Ferdinand at Špancirfest in Varaždin. And what if they hadn't become a musical hit.

"We all have university degrees, I'm a chemical engineer, so I guess I would work in a factory, but luckily we became musicians. Thank God. Bojan graduated from sociology," Guštin points out.

"If I were to become a professor at the university, I wouldn't mind," concludes Cvjetićanin.

They wouldn't mind, but they're sticking to the music - at least for now. Well, maybe we will join them at the next concert.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Satine Priestly Species: Spellcaster Occupation: Apothecary Owner (Alchemist) Age: 38 Years Old Played By: Tatiana Face Claim: Yaya DaCosta

“The shadow is the greatest teacher for how to come to the light.”

TW: Parental death, forced marriage

Satine Priestly had always known that ambition ran deep in her blood. Her parents, famed alchemists who were heralded as geniuses in their field, had devoted their lives to the pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone—a legendary creation capable of transmuting base metals into gold and granting eternal life. Their reputation preceded them in every magical circle, and their potential breakthrough was all anyone talked about. Yet, in their eagerness, they had overreached. They had failed to properly account for the law of equivalent exchange, a fundamental rule of alchemy and most magics that dictated that nothing could be gained without something of equal value being lost.

The day they tried to complete the ritual was the day everything fell apart. Satine had been there, only sixteen years old, watching from the shadows as her parents meticulously placed the reagents—monster hearts at the corners of the pentacle, rare gems at its center. But the magic had turned on them, backlashing with a force too great for their careful planning. As the spell collapsed, so did her parents. Their bodies were consumed by the very forces they had hoped to harness. It was not a slow death; it was violent, horrific, and irreversible. And as their forms unraveled before her eyes, they had the audacity to beg her to "finish it"—their life’s work, their obsession.

But Satine had no intention of finishing it. She wasn’t foolish. She knew, even then, that her parents had died because they didn’t respect the delicate balance of alchemy. They had sought immortality, and in return, they were reduced to dust.

In the aftermath of their death, the world turned its gaze on her. The wealth of the Priestly family remained intact, as did the vast collection of alchemical knowledge her parents had amassed, but none of it felt like a blessing. The vultures began to circle. Satine was placed in a foster home, and soon it became clear that her new guardians were more interested in what she represented than who she was. They plotted to marry her off to a rival family’s son, a political move to secure control over her family’s inheritance. The marriage would have tied her wealth and her family’s secrets to those who only saw her as a prize.

That was when she ran. She fled in the dead of night, determined to escape the life others had planned for her. Satine almost didn’t make it if not for the help of a kind stranger whose face she could never really remember. With her knowledge of alchemy, a bus ticket and the few possessions she could carry, she began her journey. It wasn’t easy. She spent years in obscurity, wandering from place to place, using her alchemical skills to survive. But Satine was nothing if not resourceful. She built her own life from the ashes of her parents’ failure, creating an apothecary, "The Shadow’s Bloom," where she could practice her craft in peace.

Yet, despite the life she had built, the past still haunted her. Her parents’ voices, their final plea to "finish it," echoed in her mind, even as she tried to forget. She never truly could. The law of equivalent exchange had taken them, but it hadn’t taken her. And now, years later, Satine had found something that reignited that old obsession: The Vanrown was what the dealer called it. A crystallized heart covered in ancient runes inscribed with precious metals. The strange energy it emitted was unlike anything she had ever encountered. It pulsed with a magic older than any text she had read, a magic that might hold the key to circumventing the law of equivalent exchange. But it seemed that the heart had come with a custodian. A strange shadow bound entity that watched but didn’t seem to want to interfere directly with her research.

For the first time in years, Satine felt the pull of her parents’ legacy. If The Vanrown truly was the answer, it could change everything. The very thing that had destroyed her parents might be the thing that allowed her to succeed where they had failed. But as always, Satine knew the price. Magic never gave without taking. She could feel the weight of that knowledge on her shoulders, the risk of falling into the same trap that had claimed her parents. Still, she couldn't stop. The shadows of her past were always there, but perhaps, just this once, she could bend them to her will. And if she succeeded? She would not be remembered as the girl who ran. She would be remembered as the one who finished it.

Character Facts:

Personality: Hardworking, stubborn, wrathful, kind, intelligent, cynical, patient

She cashed in favors with some customers past and present to make her shop ‘sentient’.

A ritual went wrong and killed her parents.

Satine ran away from her foster home as a teenager rather than be adopted by a family who planned on marrying her to a son to inherit her family's fortunes.

Though she procures bits and bobs as a trade, Satine is an alchemist at heart.

Has a fear of dying and being forgotten.

[art-but-only-sometimes]

Stardew Valley 12 to 20 Headcannons!!!!

Emily!! 🧵💎🪨👗

Emily's Turn!: 🧵 12 heart event: You head to the saloon for some food and run into Emily who is very happy to see you. She asks you if you'd like anything to eat or drink. As she goes to get what you wanted Gus walks up to you from behind the counter. He says that Emily has been so happy lately, he says it's got to be because of you. He's very glad you two are dating. Emily returns with your order, curious what the two of you are talking about.

🧵 14 heart event: Same as her 14 heart event, if you give Emily 200 pieces of fiber and return to her in a couple of days she will make you a set of clothes. She's very happy that they turned out so well and hopes you like them too.

🧵 16 heart event: You go over to the saloon one day and they are super busy. Emily is happy to see you but can't hang out or talk to you because of how busy they are. (aw darn/ that's ok I can wait) you grab a free seat nearby on the left side of the bar. Emily come out of the left side of the bar with a tray of drinks and slips. You act fast and grab the drinks and make sure Emily doesn't fall. She's shocked, Gus asks Emily if she is ok. She says she is. You stand her up and give her the tray of drinks back. She thanks you sheepishly and she goes back to work. Her face is almost as red as her dress. Gus applauds you and asks, jokingly if you'd like a job here sometime. Many hours later as the crowd at the bar settles down, you leave waiting outside for Emily. She exits, seeing you, she thanks you for the help in the bar. She is surprised she slipped but is grateful you saved her. She stands next to you, commenting how cold it is. Then you two kiss, after that she comments on how much warmer she is now.

🧵 18 heart event: After Emily made you clothes you can't help but think how nice it would be to make her something. So one day you head over to Emily and Haley's house after you've made your gift for her. When you enter the house she lives in you run into Haley on her way out. She's surprised to see you and ask what you have with you. (It's a secret/ I made Emily a gift.) If you choose the first prompt she dismisses it but has an idea of what it might be. If you say the second prompt she's happy and leaves so the two of you can talk. You head into the area infront of Emily's room and she opens the door. She's happy to see you and begins talking about what she'd been doing lately. She notices the gift you have with you. When she asks who it's for you say it's for you. You made Emily a shirt, in red and blue. (I hope you like it) you say. She LOVES it and she says she loves that you took time to make one for her. She puts it on right away and asks how she looks in it. (You look great!/You look super cute.) Either way she thanks you and kisses you.

🐚~ Marriage~🐚

🧵 20 Heart Event: Emily is in her home, talking to Haley. She's upset that she doesn't get to go to a fashion show in the city. The show is supposed to show "all natural fashion" as she puts it. The tickets for the show sold out really fast and she wasn't able to get them in time. She also mentions how she wasn't sure if the farmer would be able to go anyway because of work. After talking about it she heads home. The farmer is already there. (Hey how was your day?/ Guess what? I have a surprise for you.) If you ask her how her day is she tells you about it and mentions the show briefly but then changes the subject. If you say the surprise she's immediately interested. You show her the tickets to the exact fashion show she was talking about earlier. She is shocked and super excited about it. She's so happy she gives you a big hug. She pulls away after a moment, she asks you about how you'll get your work done. (I can do it before we go!/ Oh I'm sure it'll be fine, don't worry about it) Either way she is super excited and kisses you. The day of the trip is here. You go to the bus stop and see that Emily is already there. Despite the trip being only one day she's packed a bag. She's super excited to see you and is all ready to go. You both get on the bus. You both get to Zuzu city and head right for the show. Emily is so excited she grabs her seat and the both of you watch the show. It's full of unique fashion and, as Emily put it, it's all natural. Some of the people in the show look like sheep. There's dresses made from leaves, there are also other clothes with fabric entirely made by hand. Emily points them out and says that it reminds her of the wool you make on your farm, she corrects herself and says "our farm" instead. The show ends all the artists coming out as well as the show's host thanking everyone for coming. You both leave and head for the bus, Emily is so happy and is very glad you were able to get the tickets for her. She also says she wants to do something special for you to pay you back for buying the tickets for the show. She mentions that the tickets couldn't have been cheap. (You don't have to/ I did it because I wanted to.) Either way she's very grateful and happy she was able to go and that you were able to go with her. As the two of you wait for the bus. She kisses you under the light of the streetlight.

Final one! I'm so happy I was able to write this out, Emily's headcanons happened a lot faster than the previous ones!

Thanks so much for reading! Also thank you if you read all of them and for all the likes, reblogs (if you rebloged any of them) and tags, I love reading your tags!

Elliott 🪶/ Sam 🎸/ Sebastian🎮 / Alex 🏈/ Shane 🍕/ Harvey✈️ Maru 🤖/ Haley 📷/ Leah 🎨/ Abigail ⚔️ / Penny 📖 / Emily 🧵

[jh-newman-opn]

at one of my favourite nun's final profession today (effervescent). this random woman came up to me when I was sitting in costa beforehand and gave me her business card-- turns out she used to teach at the Angelicum and runs a catechetical/spiritual theology course. watched the final profession of a friar friend on livestream (excellent homily) while I waited for the time appointed. mass was transcendent. mystical marriage indeed. lots of unexpected friends there to celebrate. met some other lay Dominicans afterwards-- one of them was an older man (70s id guess?) from the midlands who told me there'd been a recent influx of young people into the church and the fraternity in his area. the other one was a younger woman (30s) on the same train as me with a really interesting conversion story and some excellent book recommendations. good vibes all the way home. the ticket lady did not fine me for being on the wrong train after the rail replacement bus service was late. glorious mysteries of thanksgiving. good day praise be to god.

[thisisyourprincipalspeaking]

This is going to be long. However, I'll say this that spending so much time dissecting a marriage, a man's career plan, life etc as some blogs have been doing is not normal especially when it comes with being rude, defensive, calling people names nothing regarding this situation is ever that serious to the point there's needs to be name calling. This goes for "all sides."

I agree you with you that "his team" isn't incompetent as some are making it seem. a lot of what has happened is because of his own decisions. Some people keep saying his team threw him under the bus and making it seem like he had no choice and that he's some poor soul that got taken advantage of. The same team that is working with quite a few different actors and yet none of them have been forced into BS like this on this level. The dude is in his 40s, been in the business for decades, built a certain reputation for himself and i'm to believe he couldn't say no and was forced into a PR situation with a woman who is/still is a nobody, and who has received no actual benefit from this. Like I know he isn't the biggest and most talented actor but he still is a white man in Hollywood who had a big enough fanbase, which would trend and was loved by many so he would have been fine had he said no. But no it apparently went from it is a PR push by studios to CAA to brands yet none of those groups are benefitting off this nor are Chris and the girl besides getting a few articles every other month.

She has no stable career and he went on to lose significant amount of his fanbase and hasn't had a hit in years. CAA has other actors who are hot tickets and they're pushing them out there so for them to push Chris into this "PR" wouldn't do anything for them considering he isn't bringing them much anyways. None of the brands are getting anything out these two so why would they choose them? Cartier doesn't even follow her nor repost her on their ig same with miu miu, he has always gotten brand deals before she even came into the picture so why would brands push her onto him? None of this makes sense no other celebrity is getting bamboozled like this the way apparently Chris is according to them.

The clear fact is no one knows this man and what goes on in his life. Yes he could say and do one thing publicly and be a whole different person in private it is not far fetched. Like how many times has a celebrity been considered nice, open, and accepting for only to be outed as an asshole, racists, sexist, or abuser decades later. No one outside of hollywood has a clue how these people are in RL doesnt matter what other people in hollywood have to say, they protect their own until they cant no more. Like thats the whole thing about Hollywood, celebrity, fame, images, pr teams etc. People in Hollywood have to sell themselves, they need to be marketable, they're basically brands thats why PR teams are hired so an image can be created that will get the people's attention. Disney and his team created the prince charming dog loving RL Cap image and he ran with it. He wasn't that prior to Marvel and I don't think he is that post cap, so to act like he didn't go along with this or chose this woman on his own is ridiculous. He chose do this whether its a fake marriage or a real marriage, he wasn't some poor sap that had no choice. Idc what they look like and act like in public that doesn't negate the fact he did have choices and it isnt solely his team's fault. The man has been tone deaf all his career so to act like he wouldn't choose this/her and act like everything would be the same is taking accountability and responsibility away from a grown man.

i agree with some of what you said and feel pretty safe saying there are a lot of people in the fandom who would agree with much of what you've said as well.

while i don't want to get too into the nitty gritty of what he/she may have "gotten" out of the deal if it has been a charade, i think given all the circumstances, they should be happy with the way they've landed. on the flip side, if it's a genuine relationship i personally think they should quit while they're somewhat ahead.

we all have choices. to be fair, sometimes our choices are: shit or sprinkle-covered shit. but we still have choices and i very much agree that everyone needs to be held accountable for the choices they make.

[televisionenjoyer]

bucket list of random things i want to experience so badly:

Push the stop button of an elevator

Object to a marriage

Tell a taxi driver to "follow that car"

Kiss someone under the rain

Go to a ball

Run after a train

Climb up a window

Get into a mud fight

Get picked as a volunteer by a magician about to perform a disappearing act

Buy a random bus ticket without checking the destination

Ride in a zeppelin

Get detained for a night

Cross a "no trespassing" sign

Drive to the middle of nowhere and park the car on the side of the road to lay down and watch the stars

Burst into an airport at the last possible minute to make a confession to someone who's about to move far away

Meet someone on the train and stay in touch with them

Get ovationed