#like. this is the woman who starts the fucking war to fix society

[kanohivolitakk]

@toaarcan I find your thoughts geniuely fascinatig and wnat to comment on the full thing when i have more time but right now I have to respond to this

Since given how the most contentious and divisive character in my other fandom is literally just "Toa Tuyet but anime girl" my reaction to this is comment just.

You know, I find the difference between how the fandom treats Nidhiki and how the fandom treats Tuyet rather fascinating.

Because both of them are traitorous Toa Mangai who betrayed their team (and thus the ideal of Toa) for their own selfish gains. Both are characters who can be read either sympathetically or as completely selfish and vile characters. And lastly both are mean to represent the different ways a toa can fall to the dark side by having their vices and flaws win over their virtues.

Yet despite of those similarities, I have noticed people tend to be far more sympathetic to Nidhiki than Tuyet. People tend to give Nidhiki far more sympathetic towards his circumstances, minimize his flaws and outright wish he had been redeemed. While with Tuyet is at best seen as an interesting and somewhat complex villain, or at worst as a tyrannical lunatic.

It is easy to chalk this dichotomy up to Nidhiki being canonically more sympathetic than Tuyet, but I don't think that's necessarily the case. If we go by Greg's own commentary, his intention was other way around. For Greg Nidhiki was a selfish opportunist with few sympathetic traits, while Tuyet was someone who took her noble goals too far. Greg also has stated multiple times Tuyet is not evil, but rather insane (something that has it's own can of worms but thats neither here or there)

As such, we can easily think the dichotomy is either misogynistic doublestandards of sympathizing with a male villain while demonizing a female one in spite of the latter being less heinous, or yet another case of fans disagreeing with Greg. And while either of those conclusions are understandable, I think to simplify it would be rather dismissive and disingenous. As I do tink there are a few reasons why this is at play beyond misogynistic doublestandards or fans disagreeing with Greg for the fiftieth time.

Firstly, while Nidhiki was meant to be unsympathetic and selfish, his hints of a tragic backstory™ kinda muddy that interesting. If Nidhiki was meant to be a selfish powerhungry jerk, why then tell the audience he had to survive his whole life in one of the harshest conditions in Matoran Universe. Knowing Nidhiki's upbringing in TK Peninsula, it makes his actions far more understandable and sympathetic than if we knew where he came on. Tuyet meanwhile has no backstory or mindset that explains her motivations and goals, beyond her viewing Toa as too weak-willed to protect matoran. As such, it is easy to read her as a totalitarian despot who wants to control others, than anything more.

Secondly, Nidhiki is far more likable than Tuyet in their respective backstory oneshots. Tuyet in MDOTT is largely characterized as rather curt, nononsenical and somewhat manipuative, making her hard to sympathize for the audience. Contrast this to Nidhiki in MDOTT and BOADH, who while flawed is given more likable traits. Nidhiki is shown to be witty, clever and a bit of a snarker, which make him more endearing to the audience in spite of his impulsivity and selfishness being clearly present. Paired with BOADH being largely from his POV (and thus, allowing us to see his perspective, reasonings and mentality), it just makes Nidhiki a far easier character to root for than Tuyet, who is presented as an antagonist in her story.

Lastly, Nidhiki is just a character most fans have more connection to due his importance in the overarching story. Nidhiki was an already established antagonist in a main story arc, who'se backstory was mysteriously intriguing before being later expanded on. Tuyet meanwhile is a serial exclusive character first introduced as a plotdevice corpse, who was given a backstory to explain who she was while beinng alive and later used because she presented many interestig opportunities and potential. As such, people are more likely to be interested in the character present in the main story than the one who mainly exists in supplemential material.

But yeah that's just my own two cents on this as a Nidhiki fan who likes both characters. There's also the way how Tuyet does far worse things than Nidhiki and has far steadfast morality, but I feel I have talked about those earlier so I digress.

[catofoldstones]

The thing is I probably wouldn't hate Rhaegar as much as I do if he wasn't glorified by the fandom and to a lesser extent in the canon too. How do you expect me to read Elia being raped and killed, Aegon's skull being crushed and Rhaenys hiding under her father's bed only to be stabbed 50 times and not blame the man who was off galivanting with a teenage girl in his wife's home while abandoning his wife and children to his lunatic racist father!? In a war HE started!! The people responsible for their deaths were Gregor, Amory Lorch, Tywin, Aerys, and Robert yes but their protection was Rhaegar's responsibility. The very existence of Elia and her children ensures Rhaegar/Lyanna can never be anything positive, whether it was consensual or not. Because whatever his dynamic with Lyanna, his treatment of his wife and children stays the same. There is no need for confirmation that Lyanna was a victim to hate him, he is a piece of shit in either cases. [Not to mention here, his treatment of Lyanna is also highly problematic even if we go by it being consensual].

The very existence of Elia and her children ensures Rhaegar/Lyanna can never be anything positive, whether it was consensual or not. Because whatever his dynamic with Lyanna, his treatment of his wife and children stays the same.

YEP!

The problem with this fandom is that they will always find a woman to blame for a man’s mistakes. This becomes “Rhaegar was not wrong 🥺 why did Elia expect him to act like her husband when he was her husband. the marriage was arranged!!!🥺” as if till then no marriages had been arranged amongst Westerosi noblefolk with the expectation that the obligations and rights and duties that come with the marriage will be honoured by the both parties. Nope. That’s just not Westeros at all.

The moment you say Rhaegar was obligated to protect his wife and children because that’s his duty as a lord husband and lord father, people will jump on you claiming that you’re upholding these patriarchal, regressive standards. Don’t you know Elia should’ve girlbossed and picked up a sword and killed the Mountain to give the reader independent girl satisfaction? How dare she be a literary vehicle to show the systemic disenfranchisement of women, even women who come from powerful backgrounds, in a feudal society and draw attention to the fact that it it’s still happening to women all around the world. How dare she not be a girlboss wet dream to satisfy our own fixed ideas and to assuage our insecurities?

And then they do try and turn her into this girlboss who was a-okay with her husband going out and getting himself a girl to become a broodmare to get another child on because “that gives Elia agency”, which is so fucking racist and straight up misogynistic towards both Elia and Lyanna, i cannot even begin to tell you. Whatever Rhaegar’s dynamic was with Lyanna, whether he married her or not, can never be consensual because Lyanna was an impressionable 14 year old child who wanted some agency and reprieve from a suffocating, oppressive society and Rhaegar was an adult, married man with two children and a kingdom to take care of who kidnapped the said child by promising her said agency. What more words do I have to use now to that Rhaegar is unequivocally at fault here. He’s the executor of his children’s death, his wife’s rape and murder, the plunging of a kingdom into war, and his family’s tragedy for a generation at least. Rhaegar is. at. fault.

I genuinely don’t know how people take the blame from a man and throw it at the women he wronged. Oh wait, I do. It’s unchecked misogyny 🙄

[janeyshivers]

i'm sick of modern politics ruining JRR Tolkien's original vision

haha you thought this was gonna be about wokeness or Rings of Power or something didn't you dipshit. actually its about how Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor (2014) has a bizarre hard-on for slavery apologia because it's unacceptable to call out the modern slavery we see in the prison system.

pretty much as soon as you start Shadow of Mordor, it draws a very hard line between the orcs in Mordor (bad, nasty, are using slaves to fuel their war effort) and the Men of Gondor (flawed but heroic, built and maintained the Black Gate with """prison labour"""). the slaves in Mordor must be liberated! most of the missions revolve around this! but the fact that Gondor also uses literal slaves is never brought up, because it's always elided as "prison labour", which is the same thing as slavery, with the crucial difference being that it's just the modern version that's still legal in modern-day prisons. and god forbid we bring any degree of focus to how the protaganist faction of mostly handsome white dudes actually engage in this kind of shit constantly, because that might almost border on social commentary. can't have that!

ok, that's shitty on its face, but i also think it actually misses a great oppurtunity to underscore Tolkien's original stories. don't get me wrong, i'm not trying to argue that the dude was a prison abolitionist or whatever. what i am arguing is that he was writing about Gondor as this kingdom that's slowly slipping into decline, corruption, and ruin because the royal line was broken. do i agree with that? fuck no, obviously not, royalty are parasitic swine and every kingdom on Earth would be better off without them. but if you're writing a modern followup to Tolkien's stuff, the slavery shit actually gives you a real oppurtunity to build on that. with a little tweaking, you could turn the slavery/"""prison labour""" dichotomy into a real illustration of how the slow rot of Gondor going to shit is making space for Sauron's return.

considering a lot of the Outcasts in Mordor who end up enslaved escaped from under Gondor's thumb, you could make a real argument that Gondor's breathtakingly evil policy of using slaves to maintain its defences was not only morally bankrupt by itself, but also delivered a population of defenceless slaves with nowhere to run to right into Sauron's lap. like the underfunding of the Rangers, like the lack of maintenance of alliances with kingdoms like Rohan, Gondor's weak and ineffectual political system under the Stewards is actively accelarating Sauron's return to power. again, i don't agree with making a story about how only the return of the king will fix the kingdom's problems, but if you're making a Tolkien story, that's the wheelhouse you're operating in.

the bones of this reading are in the game, but they're undermined by the game seeming to be utterly reticent to capitalise on it. at no point does a liberated Outcast slave say "hey actually, fuck you Talion, you and the other Rangers were as bad as the Uruk are". they are only ever deferential and grateful. even Dirhael's wife, who thinks Talion is a dick, doesn't go there. the orcs who are like "we're not so different, you and i >:)" only talk about how you like killing orcs, not the fact that you BOTH KEPT THE SAME FUCKING PEOPLE AS SLAVES. like it feels very deliberate that they don't go into this at all, like the devs are hoping you won't notice. this is ACTUAL "modern politics interfering with the story and themes of the game", far, far moreso than any like, black elf or woman with a big sword or whatever the fuck they've ever put in a Tolkien adaptation. the writers were too scared to commit to an idea that would have jived incredibly well with the themes of the story they were spinning off from, because it's a taboo to point out that the way prisons treat people in modern society is absolutely monstrous. genuinely craven shit.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for not telling my best friend I remembered my past lives?

I (23 M/NB) have been close friends with this girl (?? F, immortal being with amnesia, she's been stuck under a river for at least a century) for about two years now. We've traveled the world together and been through a LOT and I felt like she really gets me. We were like, kind of maybe talking about being in a QPR because we realized that even though there's no romantic interest we wanted to be by each others sides for the rest of our lives, or at least the rest of my life since it seems that she can't die.

Well, I was feeling like this was pretty great up until a few weeks ago. We were exploring this tomb and I put the crown of an ancient god-emperor on my head as a joke. I immediately realized that this crown was the key to unlocking my own memories of my past lives.

Here's the problem: I have extremely clear memories of being decapitated by my best friend. She doesn't remember it, and has been hoping to regain her memories for years with no luck. Now I'm absolutely terrified that she will. We've figured out that she was artificially created, and now I'm realizing that her soul was crafted specifically to be a weapon to kill me. We've literally been on a quest to find a weapon to kill the "reincarnation of the god-emperor", and I'm now realizing that guy is lying about it because I'm the ancient god-emperor, not him. And the weapon is referred to in the prophecy has been translated as a sword, but I'm starting to realize it's her soul.

I'm still down to help her kill this corrupt king who claims to be me btw, he's a fascist warmonger and now I have extra personal beef because he's stealing my identity. But I'm terrified that in killing him she'll realize that it doesn't fulfill the prophecy, and that I'm the god-emperor and she'll try to kill me too. She'd totally kick my ass btw, no way I could win that fight.

So WIBTA if I fake my own death and run away to rebuild the world anew without her? I'm terrified of losing my best friend but I've got shit to do and she stopped me from doing that in my past life. Even in previous lives I kept getting decapitated by a woman that was MAYBE her? Still a bit unclear. But if that's the case, the cycle's been going on for at least three thousand years. This world is a fucking mess of war and oppression and I've rebuilt it once before, but I'm sure I could do it right this time.

I just feel like such an asshole for not telling her any of this. The one thing she's always wanted is to remember who she is and why she was made, and now that I know I can't tell her for fear of her cutting my head off again. But I'm the only one who can go to the center of the world and FIX things. Completely reworking the shape of the world we live on (I made it into a cube last time but I think a tetrahedron would be better) and how magic works would be disruptive to society, I guess, so I can see why she'd want to stop me, but how else could the world reach towards perfection? AITA?

[deadmegumi]

8, 10 + 2 if you're feeling heinous 😈 24 if ur not 😇

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

well MY special little noble is actually the most inherently just and pure of heart and when they win the throne there will be a thousand years of peace. Wdym inherent violence of feudalism that's not real. And while there has been a downtrend in this belief throughout the last five years it HAS influenced a lot of other discource subtly... most people have realized that the way to start fixing westeros's problems is not thru a nice feudal monarch, but they dont understand that abandoning this framework for character/plot analysis also means abandoning a lot of other framework. In the arya v sansa wars people still use feudal patriarchal definitions of femininity to decide who is the Best Sexy Feminist (preteen girl). In debates about morality for certain actions people excuse things because it aligns with the feudal code of ethics- a deeply flawed and violent code. See: ned HAD to take theon hostage because well we live in a society. Like i think it's important not to hold characters to the same moral standards that we hold people in modern times to, because their circumstances are so wildly different, but we dont have to adhere to THEIR feudal values when analyzing them because its only a detriment to their characters. They live in a society but WE do not... cmon guys...

10. Worst part of fanon

no one fucking draws these characters ugly enough. Asoiaf fandom has a plague of sameface ig model syndrome and it sucks cause george puts so much distinct personality even in minor characters and then people are like hmmmmm what if they had the same button nose and good chin that everyone else has. Brienne is ugly let her be ugly!!! Arya and jon have long plain faces u dont have to draw the teen/preteen kids as super defined and striking! Let the kids look like kids. I don't care how beautiful dany is let her be a 15 yr old. OR the instinct to make everyone best friends forever and soften the complicated dynamics btwn these characters. like modern aus where the starks are the benevolent rich people who adopted theon from his abusive trailer park family grind my gears like hes a child hostage from a powerful noble house and u cant erase such a defining part of his character bc you want everyone to be nice to each other. Also related to this is people making jaime nice/acting like asos was a redemption arc or that he didnt commit some uniquely horrific acts in agot/acok. His actions thru out the last two books are not the acts of a changed man they are the acts of a man who realized he can make choices based on empathy and reason not instinct. LAST thing which is something i dont reaaaaally see here much but i know the cunts on ao3 are doing it: the post canon thing where people want brienne and jaime to get married and have twelve kids. Fuck you eat shit and die brienne is not an incubator especially not for that lannister SLAG

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

cersei is not necessarily my fave but shes a character whose sexuality i often think of. In canon the only time she's had sex with a woman she's topped and every time she fucks a dude she's disassociating so hard shes on another planet. Even when fucking jaime shes like imagining herself in his body fucking him in her body. In the bulldyke cersei universe he's stone. The pants stay on during sex and so does the shirt and probably also the shoes. Cis gay guy cersei universe he already thinks being gay is emasculating enough so obviously he's not going to let anyone penetrate him. Transmasc bi universe its like you've never been strapped until you've been strapped by a dude who's never cum once in his whole life. THANK YOU!

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

"Daenerys is basically george bush because she uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well its a post 9/11 metaphor and uhhh well astapor is basically iraq and uhhhhh nuclear arms" "dany has never done anything wrong in her life and criticizing her means uhhhhh you hate women and abuse victims" "dany is a RAPIST and a RACIST and wants ALL BROWN PEOPLE TO BE SUBSERVIENT TO HER" "mirri maz duur deserved to die horribly for killing (checks notes) her enslaver" "dany is a colonizer (that's not what that word means. you need to look up what that word means)" brothers. Lets all link arms and kill ourselves

Jesus Christ this is long as hell. Sorry I got a lot of beef

[lackadaisical-lesbian]

I posted 10,605 times in 2022

265 posts created (2%)

10,340 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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@glassamphibians

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I tagged 1,378 of my posts in 2022

#my post - 273 posts

#tw ableism - 103 posts

#demon slayer - 41 posts

#bnha spoilers - 39 posts

#kimetsu no yaiba - 36 posts

#kny - 34 posts

#demon slayer spoilers - 33 posts

#tw abuse - 27 posts

#tw flashing - 17 posts

#bnha 350 - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#like yes girly u are!and ur supporting the film at the same time😭the us military does not need ur financial support or free advertising😭

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I am so tired of people missing the point so let's talk about a specific take I keep hearing in reference to Rei and Endeavor

So the specific take is that if Endeavor had just gone about his goal differently not only would he have succeeded, but he would have done so ethically

If he and Rei were just a team instead of just a Hero and A Mother; if he played up the family image and Rei doubled as a wife and a sort of pr manager, and how that family image would have boosted his ratings(one person even said "if Rei had a backbone" and to that person: go fuck yourself, that's not how domestic abuse works you uncompassionate fuck)

However while this may fix the domestic abuse part if the relationship, it still misses the point. Endeavor did not come into this marriage with the intent to beat his wife and child, he did not intend to neglect his children from the get-go. That is something he did as a means to an end. Saying he did so by accident would obviously be a lie, but he did not wake up one day and decide "Abuse Is Okay, Actually". The manga makes it clear this is more of a spiral; he came into this marriage with a goal: produce and raise a heir, he got worse and worse over time.

The reason I'm highlighting the spiral here is because the narrative point is that Endeavor's goals were wrong. His intent is flawed. His reason for starting a family is inherently unethical, and his single minded focus of a selfish goal is what produced the consequences. He did not have a family because he felt he was ready to have children with the woman he loves, just for the sake of that family and those children. Their happiness and wellbeing was secondary to his goal.

Having a equal relationship with his wife isn't fixing all the problems; so long as he has kids for the purpose of a legacy, to give them some sort of pre-determined goal he is wrong. As long as he has kids for the sake of his career he is Wrong.

(That's not to say that people who have kids for the joy if it, or out if love for family can't be abusers, just that Enji was wrong from the get go)

Furthermore, this also fucks with the major themes of bnha. The Todoroki family is pretty symbolic of and involved in all the major themes and messages of the show.

The major message is that society creates it's own problems; that the false dichotomy of heroes verse villains is inherently flawed and a self fulfilling system. Society gives people roles based on their quirks; those with flashy quirks are given privilege and encouraged to be heroes whether that want to or not, people with unappealing or "scary" quirks(or just mutant quirks) are harassed and called villians, limiting that persons options and making it difficult to be anything but what society tells them they are, weak quirked or quirkless people either have to work extra hard to be a hero, or are denied anything but ridicule and forced mediocrity. There's other things taht intersect with this, like class, family heritage, or queerness(seen through Magne).

Societies often play a game of sacrifice; what are you willing to sacrifice? Who are you willing to sacrifice? What is the cost you are willing to pay(or let someone else pay) in order to sustain the current social order? In my hero the sacrifice comes in the form of the underprivileged, and children's lives. This society is forced to contend with taht fact, and the consequence of the war arc and the resolution of this arc will answer that question, but so far the answer seems to be that, no, this is not something tehy can sacrifice. Systems made in blood to maintain a hierarchy are unsustainable.

This hierarchy is exemplified by the hero ranking system. If you think about this system of more than a moment it becomes clear that it's pointless and harmful. The most effective form of hero-ing would involve cooperation, transparency, and community outreach, and the ranking undermines all of that. When teams start being formed post-culture festival it's inspite of the system.

You get higher ranking (more money/notoriety/fame) by a) arrest numbers and b) popular vote. This creates a system where heroes are competing and trying to arrest as many people as possible, which makes teamwork difficult and can produce carelessness and property damage. Also, they are incentivized to preform more-so than do their jobs. This means focusing on high-traffic areas, wealthy areas, appeal to people more likely to vote, and preform for the camera. The focus isn't inherently on saving lives, it's on preforming. Working with criminals, minimizing crime, and actually making things safer is actively discouraged in this system because of the way it's made. There can't be heroes without villians, so they have to keep the villains around because this is a profitable industry. And it doesn't even have to be real villains! Most people aren't committing mass murder! Why do you thing the first scene in the show shows a man who stole a purse being called a villain, with the heroes(specifically Mt. Lady) escalating the situation and preforming for the camera? Mha isn't subtle in it's themeing.

And the public doesn't realize these things because of propaganda and "they're a hero! Of course they're saving lives, that's their job!" The public is both being deceived and acting as an active and passive participant in upholding this system.

So, what does this have to do with the Todoroki family?

Well, for one Endeavor serves as an example that being a hero does not equal being a good person. He also shows the flaw of the system in how notoriety and competition has unhealthy and damaging results.

One important thing to acknowledge is that society is currently answering what is a cost they're willing to pay? Well, they've decided taht the Todoroki family is an appropriate price. Sure, he's faced backlash because one of his sons is a Mass Murderer, and some people are, in fact, not chill with domestic violence. But. They need him for the war effort, so h doesn't face consequences. Not significant ones, anyways. Because he's never cared what they thing, he's never tried to but on a PR friendly mask. Their word's font hurt him. He has interpersonal consequences, but that's it. They've decided the perceived protection Endeavor the hero gives them is more important than justice for the harm Endeavor the father has done.

TLDR: The Todoroki family has thematic importance, and saying if Endeavor respected his wife everything would be fine is missing an important fundamental message that his intentions in starting a family were flawed. Disregarding the messages in the story and how they intersect with the Todoroki family is also harmful.

34 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

#4

This is the funniest joke edit I have seen in my life

See the full post

40 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

#3

I'm sorry, is his middle name actually, honest-to-god, Fahrenheit??? Are y'all fucking with me in the tags?

56 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

#2

I know I've said before that it doesn't matter if you dislike the BNHA villains, and that idc if you want them to die

However

I am so fucking smug rn lmao. How does it feel to be wrong? How does it feel to have such little reading comprehension that you are genuinely suprised that the character beloved for his kindness, the character who said he sees himself in his brother, the character that talked about getting lunch with his big brother, how does it feel knowing you were so incredibly wrong that you thought he'd kill his brother? How do you feel? Because I feel VINDICATED

58 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I'm thinking about how badly the Percy Jackson universe is begging for change, yet stubbornly refuses to do so.

Think about it. The demigods are stuck in an endless loop they did not ask for; monsters that can never be truly killed because they just respawn, suffering grudges born thousands of years before their time, wars of rebellion begging to be won. The universe is in a cycle. The primordial gods made it all, the Titans over threw their oppressive father, the Gods doing the same to theirs. But then it just... Stopped. There was no next generation of slightly-more-righteous rulers. The God's have ruled for a millennial, yet they remain. The world has undeniably moved on; a bronze age, an agricultural revolution, an industrial revolution, a technological revolution- by all logic, they've vastly outstayed their welcome. They retain old traditions no one quite remembers the purpose of and they've been abandoned by a vast majority of the populace. The Roman gods should have replaced them in an epic battle of the ages, but they didn't. They evolved and merged until they struggled to differentiate themselves and avoid identity crisis.

The demigods are born for this age. They understand the world- what it needs, how it works- in a way the Gods do not and Cannot. They can become known to the public(Percy is internationally famous in tlt, Piper, Jason, and Thalia have famous parents) they have compassion where the gods have become out of touch with the mere concept. They're angry and abused, like Zeus and his father before him.

But it doesn't change. The gods make up rules and quest, have convinced these kids that 'this is life and you're lucky to have made it this far, so thank us'. The ones that want change have gone about it wrong. They brought in Kronos and Gaea, monarchs of forgotten ages; those deities got their time, and were duly replaced. To reinstate them would be to replay an era long since past, and no longer needed. They are not the fated revolution; history repeats, but it does not rewind.

The Titans and Giants were not the answer, but a revolution must be had. Before the line is tarnished anymore, something has to give. The halfbloods have been beaten and broken, they use weapons of old, replay old grudges, and in their old Greek/Roman attire and training they stick out in the modern age; they've been held back while the world evolved.

So something needs to be changed, and it needs to be them. They need to be the ones to instate a new rule, before the universe is messed up any further. Fate is screaming out to them with increasingly peril threats of old, with large powers at play that refuse to lend a hand. These kids do so much for their parents, but the gods just keep biting the hand that feeds them. It's time they bite back.

They wouldn't even be hopeless; it fits with the history(the Gods were greatly outnumbered, and the Titans had to fight the sky itself). They are increasingly strong and have defeated gods already. They beat Time and Earth. The gods rely on them: they do their dirty work, they keep them alive and powerful through prayer, they protect them. As much as their parents refuse to admit it, they would be dead without their children. They could fight, and they could win.

The world is begging for change, so change it.

97 notes - Posted March 22, 2022

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[ramrodd]

Tina Nguyen — The MAGA Diaries- with David Frum

COMMENTARY:

This woman's experience how the Nazification of the GOP by William F. Buckley's Conservatism. Buckley's campaign to convince the world that he was a charter member of the John Birch Society and that the John Birch Society hijacked Barry Goldwater's Conservative brand as campaign workers and campus activists that came to DC with Reagan and is the mother board of the January 6 insurgency that Mike Pence derailed. The leading edge of the John Birch Society of Movement Conservatism was the Plumbers who fucked up Nixon's presidency and now have bet the ranch on Trump.

The Reagan Cult of Personality that can be quantified by every mention of Ronald Reagan National Airport. Regan did nothing but fuck up commercial aviation with PATCO and the white supremacist economics of the John Birch Society, Elon Musk is the Archetype of the superior commercial executive according to George Gilder's Wealth and Poverty. Ayn Rand's Aryan ideal contained in the character of John Galt. This is what the Studio-SAG trike was all about. The Studio executives share Elon Musk's passion for management by fear while the leadership model of the Quality Assurance business model of Fran Dresher's workers is the Cooperate and Graduate  leadership model of the Army Ranger School and the Starship Troopers of Vietnam,

The score card is easy to understand: everybody who voted to expel George Santos, Republoicans and Democraats are constitutionally woke and all the January 6 coalition of the House Freedom Caucus who voted to keep him on the Island are the leading edge of the John Birsch Society's legacy of the Nazification of America. with Trump at the head of the 76 Trombones of the Anti-Christ.

This is easy to fix, The first thing is, newly woke Republicans are are authentically repentant of their moral blindness in the manner of Nicole Wallace and the MSNBC cockpit of the Prty of Lincoln Coalition to drop kink the John Birch Society through the goal posts of due process and into the cess pool of their own Nazification, like Satan in Paradise Lost, into the Outer Darness

The things you believed in as a Eisenhower or Jack Kemp Republican that have been hijacked by the William F. Buckley's insurgency to overthrow the US Constitution and cause the collapse of the US economy like in Atlas Shrugged, That's what the January 6 Nazification is all about. That's happening and came very close to working except for Mike Pence.

In Indiana, Mike Pence is noted universally as being dumber than a box of rocks, but family money can cure all sorts of social handicaps. Like Matt Gaetz.

The good news is, this is fixable, If you want to restore the Party of Lincoln Coalition as the dominant leadership coalition of the GOP, get behind Nikki Haley at the moment and begin a write in campaign starting with South Caroline for Party of Lincoln candidates for the GOP Convention and re=claim the Party of Lincoln from the John Birch Society. Get behind Nikki Haley: she has the dagger the convictions against Trump as a dirty old man has turned him into a Archie Bumler punch line. .

Here's the irony: Biden's Build Back Better capital budget will complete the  implementation of Reagan's New Federalism which will complete Stage 2 of Eisenhower's 3 Stage process to transform the social infrastructure for the Manhattan Project to the Star Wars economics of 2001: A Space Odyssey, An objective of William F. Buckley's Nazification insurgency was to prevent Eisenhower's 1956 Presidential Platform from working in order to achieve the Atlas Shrugged outcome he wanted to create in order to seize control of America. We have been a cunt hair away from triggering the final paradigm shift of Stage 3 that will end up as Starship America since 19 January 1981 and that cunt hair is all things associated with William F. Buckley and the John Birch Society.

[anarmel]

six of crows gang my beloved

what is fanart without me complaining about a thing i like

as a person who read SoC duology a long time ago, my SoC only related thoughts

-did they make Jesper gay and not bi?do not support that decision. that scene in a stable was kinda unnecessary (but i’m not a big fan of those kinda scenes in general) and felt like they just wanted something gay in this season and sort of a nod that they didn’t forget Jesper’s attraction to men but in process of that forgot that he’s bi. i think he should’ve had flirtatious interactions with everyone(he flirty).especially that we know that his main love interest is a man and his light crush on Kaz he should’ve flirted with a woman in this season. and i know that bi people are not obligated to date several people of all gender spectrum to know or like affirm that they’re bi but that’s in real life and SaB is a piece of media that communicates through visuals and limited dialogue and not a book where you have access to mention it in characters thoughts soo....yeah....not invisible bi representation where?and Nina is taken with her romance with Matthias already

-Nina(my beloved) and Matthias...yeah that’s the start of their story

-i liked “more soft” Kaz he felt less like an archetype of a character that he is(a traumatised bad boy who doesn’t care for anything or anyone but will eventually be “fixed” by love for a girl). book version of him works because we have his inner thoughts and machinations if he was on screen like he was in a book it just wouldn’t work as well he needs to emote and show a little bit of feelings that he experiences to work in a given medium and to not be a brick character on screen

-and Inej, my girl, my beloved . i don’t think she would sass tante Heleen while still being under a contract. i don’t understand why they took out her having panic attacks near the menagerie, and she refused Jesper’s backup(girlboss of her to do that but not being alone in that place is beneficial for mental stability !buddy system!). maybe because she is in that situation where she is still under indenture and she didn’t feel real relief and still is to take her first breath as a free person so she doesn’t feel constant fear of being robed of her freedom by the same place again? idk maaan...maybe i’m wrong but that’s jus how i feel. she is the strongest character in the series but that doesn’t mean she should be “strong” in every situation she is still a human who was treated so terribly by so many people and the menagerie represents it. ooof. in a book her strengths and weaknesses were established so well. i appreciated her fangirling for Alina though and that they didn’t brake her character in that way.her beliefs are still intact and she is apprehensive about kidnapping a saint. nice. love her

as a viewer of Shadow and Bone content without a book base but with basic knowledge of the universe and characters:

-(speaking as a slavic person in predominantly slavic society) didn’t like Zoya’s racist comment towards Alina like at all. like she is asian herself different part bur still. and i felt like her problem with Alina wasn’t race related then why throw that in? if my rival was poc i wouldn’t throw a slur at them and go a racist rout because that will not who i am(and i’m not that lazy at insulting/j) and it’s not even a part of my problem with them, i would go for something more personal and connected to the root of the problem to be a full bitter bitch. like Zoya feels useless and like she’s being replaced (right?) she could’ve commented how useless Alina is, how she can’t be strong by herself without help of darkling to reflect her own insecurities on Alina? why drag race into that problem? why? i know they had asian writers working on the script and in my opinion they did a good job at war era racist propaganda and how it ostracised Alina in society but making Zoya on a personal level a racist was kinda dumb. she’s a bitch but not a bigot

-i’m afraid of saying my thoughts on darkling/alina/mal situation because that part of the fandom really scares me. and that was not really my interest in this show

-not enough Genya(i really like her character)

as a person who was born in russia and will die in russia(not by choice) my russia related thoughts:

(i know that it’s only inspired and not based on imperial russia but i wanna nitpick and bitch about things)

-for imperial russia not lavish enough(yeah budget and stuff but it’s true) those bitches only knew how to burn gold on luxuries and wars

-Alina’s last name is Starkov. so in russian usually last names that end in -ov/-ova -ev/-eva are gendered her version is “male”. i don’t care for gendered stuff but in russian every word is that way. as a gender abolitionist i don’t care as a russian speaker kinda not right but eh. i(nb) go by my -ova last name because it flows with my name better like Alina Starkova i kinda like how it has an A at the beginning and on the end. Alina Starkov is still a cool name because fuck grammatically correct things

-i don’t understand why they decided to call uniforms kefta and not kaftan, kefta sounds more like kofta(casual shirt) and kaftan is a real thing and a nicer word in my opinion(and isn’t kefta a dish? but then again we have a dish named “herring under a fur coat”)

-do not understand the name of an episode “otkazat’sya” it means “to refuse” as in like a verb, kinda weird, “otkaz”(refusal) would suit more as a name because it’s a noun and less confusing and a cooler looking word. it just doesn’t work in russian and was kinda jarring to see it. and didn’t they call a food taster an “otkazat’sya” like huh??? he would be just a low ranked “pridvornyy”(courtier) or a “sluga”(servant) or if you want a fancier word it would be “mundschenk”(world of german origin used in imperial russia under Peter the First) but they were only for vine and drink tasting

-there is like three words in russian and pronunciation is funny. o to pronounce ц like ц and not like ts. there is no need to be soft

-and it’s so funny that magic users called Grisha it’s just a slavic name Grigori in short form. imagine a world where magic users are all called like Josh in all seriousness

-(did they have at least one russian speaking person to consult on language usage or pronunciations?they merged two books together couldn’t they change some words to more correct ones?)

-so mad that they killed of my main man Ivan he was THE russian representation of that show. such a single minded serious bitch. i connected to him so much (i love me some unimportant background characters) and that goth bitch(darkling) lives on. i only can be satisfied if one of those shadow monsters is Ivan(i only jest...unless?....)

general:

-found family is top tier, love triangles are in hell(not fun kind) but that’s my general hiccup with this franchise (it has so much potential but choses to focus heavily on romance, like romance is good and great and all that but friendship is magic)

-in conclusion i really liked the story as a separate being and it’s one of the better book to screen adaptations i’ve seen but it’s not without flaws

-i’m always critical of things that i love. it’s my passion to scrutinise and see flaws. i am but a miserable being

🖤only my personal opinions and feelings,hope you enjoyed my art despite my tirades🖤

[tg-headcanons]

Touka Was Done So Dirty So I Must Analyze It

I have a lot to say about how poorly Tokyo Ghoul turned out. There was so much wasted potential, so much meaningless angst, so many straight relationships crammed where they didn’t need to be, and so many sudden, anticlimactic plot points. But of all of the mishandling and poor choices, I think that Touka’s treatment is the worst.

Touka was a complex and interesting character. She was raised by loving parents, one of whom died early, the other lived a little longer while doing everything he could to impart lessons to keep her and her brother alive. When he died she was suddenly forced to become her brother’s guardian and rush out into a world that is so much less forgiving than her father was. They got taken in by her uncle and his friends, housed and fed, and she even got the opportunity to pursue an education which is a monumental luxury to ghouls. Despite resenting humans for the way her family was massacred and she is forced to live, she became close to a human, looking past her trauma for a friendship she cherishes. Her brother reacted badly to the idea of her being around such a dangerous person who could have them killed like their parents were, and ran off to join Aogiri, leaving her and her uncle as the last remnants of their family.

Touka is angry, and id say rightfully so. Her parents murder, being forced to grow up far too fast, being forced to live in this war she was drafted into at birth, any one thing would be enough to fuck someone up. She has all that going on, so understandable, she’s going to be pissed at the world. If it ended there it would be perfect, a great starting point for a character to delve deep into the concepts of society shaping identity, but then the worst happened

Touka is an archetype I like to call ”Angry Teen Girl”

Before we talk about the archetype, let’s talk about teen girls in real life, specifically how they’re treated by society. The teen girl in the public eye is simultaneously the epitome of beauty who is seductive and manipulative and lustful, as well as airheaded and shallow and naive and pure. The way that changes has to do with the convenience of the adult male onlooker. She’s A tactical mastermind when she doesn’t want to fuck you and she’s an airhead when she has opinions. She’s a prude when she doesn’t respond to advances and a whore when she wears a t-shirt. Most importantly, she’s a silly stupid baby when she demands independence and respect, and a grown woman who should know better when she acts her age

Teen girls don’t have the same understanding that boys their age do. When a teen boy messes up its “oh he’s 15 he’s still learning.” When a teen girl messes up its “shes 15 shes practically an adult she should know better by now.” Because adult men have decided the teen girl is desirable, she’s forced to grow up faster to save them the shame of acknowledging that she is a literal child. And after being treated like stupid children and sexy mature adults, teen girls are rightfully angry. This is so universal, so all encompassing, that almost every teen girl has this undercurrent of anger and grief at how they’d been socialized. Because of that, it too is brushed off as “stupid teen girls and their silly little feelings.”

This is where the Angry Teen Girl trope comes in. There is so much history behind women’s treatment, so many valid reasons for a teenage girl to be pissed, but this character is almost always played off as a joke. Either a joke or something to fix.

Back to Touka, let’s run through this again, this time through her eyes. Her family was perfect until it was taken violently away, she had to become violent against her dead fathers wishes to protect her little brother, that little brother who she was forced to sacrifice her bloodless life for left her for having a single friend, she lived her whole life knowing that no matter who she is or what she does the world hates her and she’s going to be murdered by the state. She has to deal with all of this, and then she meets Kaneki, who tells her to her face that he’s better than her because he was human, not realizing that not eating people is a privilege from birth that she never had. Touka is angry, and Touka is a child. A traumatized child who isn’t in the right for her violent reaction, but isn’t an adult with a peaceful world who knows better

Now if people just hated her for that then fine, but there is a huge overlap of the people who hate Touka for her aggressive personality, and people who love ayato. For every “she’s a bitch who’s so mean and super violent and shouldn’t be killing investigators when she doesn’t need to and deserves getting hurt” there’s a “he’s a sweet boy who’s trying his best and he killed all those people because he’s traumatized.” More and more, it’s clear that the same sympathy given to ayato, the much more violent and aggressive sibling, is not given to his sister. Right off the bat, she’s easy for many to dismiss because the misogynistic tropes that made her are fully reinforced

She is established as a complex person who simultaneously resents humanity for how ghouls are treated and doesn’t want them dead. She’s aggressive to her loved ones as a way to protect them and kills investigators so they don’t have the chance to threaten them. She’s angry because of how she spent her whole life just barely avoiding death at the hands of a genocidal government, she’s angry that she has to live this way, she’s even angry that she had to become violent at all and couldn’t live the peaceful life she could have had

But because she is an Angry Teen Girl, nothing matters except “But She’s such a bitch”

Now Touka at this point is still a great character, but things go south fast. The focus shifts from the world and complex relationships to Kaneki. Out of nowhere, Touka is pining after him. Out of nowhere, she has feelings for him. It was more convenient to just Insert Romance instead of developing them. Even if it stopped here Touka would still be a great character, but it didn’t.

After she fled anteiku, her character died. Not only was she completely cast aside during Ken’s Plot Convenience And Honestly Lazy Amnesia arc, but everything behind her character was stripped to its bare bones

You see, the Angry Teen Girl is only a teen for so long, and she can become one of two things: Hysterical sad evil woman or Calm Momwife. It’s a problem a lot of male authors have of only seeing a woman’s anger as a character flaw. In order to keep her as a hero, her anger needs to be “fixed,” and even that isn’t done well.

Suddenly, her drive is gone. Her love of Yoriko is completely abandoned, as is her reason to care for average humans. Her ambitions of collage and success are cast aside. Her complicated feeling towards her brother become “oh I get it it’s all cool I love him and just want him safe no hard feelings haha.” By the time we see her in Re:, she is no longer Touka. She is just the Momwife personality she got crammed into because Ishida just couldn’t think of a use for this previously complex character than “Wife And Mom.”

I’m not saying that she should have stayed angry and aggressive, but she should have stayed consistent, she should have changed over time and for coherent reasons. Such pivotal parts of her character are unceremoniously thrown out, we don’t even get a good explanation for why she turned out that way. Yes, she could rebuild her family with her brother, but it should have been built up to. Yes, she could leave Yoriko behind, but it should have any reason for it at all. Hell, I’m a die hard Hidekane fan, but I’d say she could have had a great romance with Kaneki if it didn’t come out of nowhere

She was “calmed” by having her dreams stripped from her after losing anteiku. She was given her “happy ending” by getting knocked up from desperate and uncomfortable pity sex. She was a girl who wanted to go to collage and protect her loved ones, she had queer undertones of being in love with her human fried, she had reasonable aggression as a self defense mechanism. Any one of these things could spring into an arc of their own.

But all that was thrown out in favor of being the most convenient straight love interest for Kaneki, though her personality was so incompatible with him that it had to be stripped bare to even pretend it works

If she had been given the same treatment as her brother and had her anger treated as a byproduct of the way she’s forced to survive rather than a self caused character flaw, she could have been perfect. If she’d been kept in the focus and not shoved aside for so much of Re:, she would have been good. If any part of her character at all stayed in tact, she would have been fine. But instead she’s reduced to either a Bitchy Child or Momwife. She was so interesting, and I wish her character didn’t get gutted for the sake of her male family and rushed love interest

[myrskytuuli]

I’ve been rewatching Steven Universe and was suddenly hit with the chaotic crossover potential of Steven, the pink jacketed, forgiveness preaching, eager to make friends with everyone, Steven refusing to trust any other protagonists’ stories of their tragically dead good moms. Especially Harry Potter holy shit. 

Steven: Okay so, let me get this straight. Your mother, named after a flower, died so you would be able to live?

Harry: Yes.

Steven: And she was a respected warrior in a civil war trying to protect non-magical humans of this earth, to the point that people still reminisce of her skills and are inspired by her memory?

Harry: Yes. And her sacrifice made me magically shielded, but now all the bad guys also target me because the fact that I live is unprecedented.   

Steven, his eyes taking a pinkish tint: And people were surprised when she married an irresponsible, a bit childish man enamored with her long before she even took him seriously? 

Harry, a bit offended at the tone Steven has taken: My mother saw beauty in everyone, even if they themselves could not see it. Her capability for love was unparalleled! 

Steven, eyes fully pink: And how many horrendous war crimes has she committed??????????????

It would be awful, because everyone would be forced to be nice to this new alien overlord, visiting the magic world, but every time someone would mention Lily Potter and how extraordinary she was, he would look suspicious as fuck and honestly it is starting to be a bit disrespectful. 

Snape would hate him the most, because he would cheerfully declare that: “I understand that you feel like your entire self-worth is tied to the idea of serving the right people and dedicating your entire life for grieving over a woman who chose to marry a man you think is unworthy of her, while hurting those around you, because taking responsibility of your own actions has become so hard after a lifetime of believing that you need someone to tell you what to do.” casually snatching Snape with him, “but now we are going to a garage rock-concert, where we practice saying no to masters and maybe you’ll even meet a cute mystery girl of your own.” Cue Snape trying to unsuccessfully curse Steven into little stain on the floor. 

I would also love to imagine Steven’s smile growing more and more fixed as some poor wizards would try to explain the house-elves to him

Some poor wizard: No you don’t understand! They are born to serve, that’s their whole function, their place in the society! They don’t want to be free, it goes against their nature! And it is not like most masters even overwork them. Mostly they are just a status symbol for rich wizards to flaunt their wealth around, making them hold their stuff and stand around, clean their house and cook their food. It would be cruel to force them to be independent, when they don’t have any purpose if they don’t belong to anyone.”

Steven, eyes turning diamond shaped. “Do you take constructive criticism for your society-”

[babylooneytoonz]

Green is Your Colour

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader is Isaiah Jesus' older sister, still much younger than Tommy however. They always had this platonic and not implicit flirt going on, but one night they are alone and they just can’t keep going on with the platonic attraction they both have for each other, they have to do something.

Warnings: Physical Abuse

Requested By: @thepeakygurl ( I tried my best, hope you like it! 💗 )

Almost growing up with the Shelby's had changed your outlook towards life, especially when you were usually joined to the hip with the two, Isaiah, your younger brother, and Finn. Your family was never welcomed into the society, and you knew it, but ever since you met the Shelby's, they had formed like a halo over you, an invisible coating, that kept you protected from anyone who didn't see you for the person that you were. They made you feel normal and accepted, and you were thankful to them for it.

There were a few incidents, that you remembered at the back of your mind, that caused shivers to run down your spine, and sometimes, hatred brew inside the pit of your stomach, causing it to churn, but the Shelby's made sure that your family was shielded, as much as possible.

"Finn, what the fuck happened?" Tommy Shelby's voice was chastising, as he stood over Finn, looking down at the cuts adorning his pale, ashen face, his face almost shaking in disappointment, as he walked up to Isaiah, "Will you bloody speak? Or have the two of you decided to keep mute going forward?"

The three of you hung your heads, partly with shame, but you more so because you didn't want Tommy to notice the way your glasses were cracked at the edge and a tiny bruise was already forming on your left eye, giving you a black eye. It was good that the lights to the Shelby's office were dimmed out and he couldn't really see your face.

"It's nothing, got into a fight, that's all. You don't have to keep asking me, yeah?"

Tommy couldn't help narrow his eyes at his youngest brother, and neither could you refrain from giving him a side glance, the small movement of your head causing Tommy to notice and finally turn towards you, his eyes now on you, a watchful gaze in the blue of them.

"Will you tell me? Your brother probably picked his side, and looks like he sided with my brother," he side glanced towards Isaiah.

"It wasn't their fault, Mr. Shelby."

Your voice came out weaker than you had imagined, immediately causing you to draw your eyes shut and shoot in some air through your mouth , only to exhale. "I should have known this would happen. Well, they, uh, we got into a fight at that seamstress shop on the next street."

"Fight about what?" Tommy asked.

Isaiah finally spoke up, and you could feel a knot on the side of your thigh where his fists were clenched together hard. "All my sister wanted was to admire that dress on display."

Tommy understood; you heard him exhale, almost very softly, but there was a thick silence suddenly. A sound of a match lighting filled the room, Tommy's face now glowing a bright orange as he lit the cigarette stick in his mouth, smoke coiling around him like dense smog. Once he had taken a drag of the cigarette, his hand came to rest on Isaiah's shoulder as he patted it once, "Take your sister home, your father must be worried about the two of you, ey?"

"Yeah, yes, Mr. Shelby." Isaiah turned towards you, and you, keeping your head hung, slowly sneaked past the two, feeling Tommy's eyes on you, as your silhouette disappeared out through the door.

Once Isaiah and you had left, Tommy sent Finn back to the living quarters, for he wanted to be alone. The lads had all left an hour back and Tommy was the only one in the empty office now. He made his way to his office, darting towards his liquor cabinet until he had poured himself some whiskey in a glass. Sitting down finally, letting his head rest against the leather of the chair, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, Tommy blinked, his thoughts running like a haywire. There was a perplexity in his mind, stuck to him like a disease and he couldn't shake it away, no matter how hard he tried. It was like the war again, he wanted to hard to go back home, but he was trapped in those tunnels miles away from home.

The clock kept ticking, and the hours passed, slowly yet Tommy kept sitting there, the bottle of whiskey now almost gone. The Sun had began to draw up, the faint orange hue filling up the quiet streets of Birmingham. Tommy had fallen asleep, his chest heaving up and down, and it was perhaps after ages that he had had a night when the nightmares had not tortured him, when his eyes fluttered open, thanking the sunlight that was falling over his face.

He groaned and grumbled, swiping his palm over his face, looking at the time in his pocket watch. It was 7, two hours before the lads will start piling in and he will sucked in to work. He had someplace to be.

𖠁𐂃𖠁

Tommy found himself leaning against the streetlight, a lit cigarette in his fingers as his hand mechanically moved back and forth his lips. A satisfied look rested on his face, his eyes fixed on the Peaky boys in front of him, that were thrashing up two men outside a seamstress' shop. Upon taking the last bit of smoke, he let it drop, his hand reaching for his cap as he pulled it off the top of his head. With slow steps, he walked up to where the lads were holding the two men, their faces now covered in blood, who were now pleading to be let go.

"This is our city. And they are one of us. You should 'ave thought of the bloody outcome before you decided to meddle with their business."

"But Mr. Shelby, t-trust us, we didn't know they were associated with y-you," one of them stammered, coughing up blood.

"Lads, take them away. And make sure they know who this fucking city belongs to." Tommy waved his palm in the air, moving past the men until he had vanished into the shop behind them.

You sighed, staring at your hands. Your hands still trembled, and tears relentlessly streamed down your cheeks when you remembered how the men had tried to hit you, assault you, forgetting the fact that you were a woman. Had Finn and Isaiah not stepped in, by chance being someplace around, you didn't want to think of the gruesome images that propped in the back of your mind, the things that would have perhaps happened to you.

You looked at the bruise on your arm, where one of the men had grabbed you and jerked you so hard, it felt your arm would break off. It was now turning blue. A pained sigh escaped your lips, forcing you to jerk your head up to look at your face in the mirror, a small cut had formed over the side of your lip, trailing down towards your throat, and you had a black eye.

You didn't want to go out, but there were chores you had to do. Life didn't stop, no matter what happened. That's something your father, Jeremiah, always said. Dressing up without the will to do so, wearing a simple white blouse, you stepped out of your apartment.

You worked as a florist, your tiny squabble of a shop centred a few shops away from the seamstress lodgings, the one where that incident had taken place yesterday. This was one place that you felt like yourself; that you were free, and were only judged once you stepped out of the confines of the shop. Although none of the Shelby's never said anything, to either you or to Isaiah, but deep down, you knew, that it was because of them no one really bothered you at the shop. It was the understanding and the friendship between your father and Thomas Shelby, you had a place which you can term as your safe haven, and you were finally doing something you always wanted to do.

You didn't realize when, lost in your own deep thoughts, you almost crossed the seamstress shop, until something didn't feel right. You lifted your eyes, fixing your gaze on the shop that looked like it had been taken down, the racks that hung the beautiful dresses now looked empty and all the beautiful silks and the chiffons were gone. Men were walking in and out, no one bothering to even look up at you until one of them caught your eye.

You didn't understand what John was doing in there.

And then you saw him, your brother lurking back with a few of the Peaky boys, and Finn.

Clearing your throat, you pushed your way through the lads, minding your own business, until you stepped into the shop, your eyes raking the interiors, the wallpapers that had already been taken off, and the walls were being painted a pristine white.

"Whatever happened to the seamstress that worked here?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Mr. Shelby bought this shop."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, nodding towards your own brother.

"Does he want to open another pub in here? What about the Garrison?" You asked again, innocently.

Finn almost gave you a tight lipped smile, that you noted, but decided not to comment on. Isaiah only parted his lips, a warm smile now draping over them, "Well it's ours. Yours technically. You're not to bloody run that squabble of a flower shop that you run down the street."

The first few hours of that day were spent in shock and then denial, that you couldn't accept it; and it wasn't right. But when Isaiah told you that Mr. Shelby had made up his mind, and he wanted you to have the shop, you did accept it in the end. The next day was spent decorating the shop, putting up your flower stands, and making sure that it was ready to be opened up again. The third day was, well, it was spend sitting in your shop, your apron wrapped around your frame, your mind thinking of ways in which you could thank Thomas Shelby in, and express your gratitude.

𖠁𐂃𖠁

You finally decided on mustering up the courage to finally walk up to him and thank him, after your day ended. By the lunch hour, the people in your shop had left, and you were left in peace to finally relax and bask in the freshness and the fragrance that the flower stands emitted. You sat back against your chair, resting your head against the leather when the jingling of the bell caused you to flutter your eyes open, and your eyes to widen momentarily, your cheeks turning scarlet red.

"Mr. Shelby?"

"Call me Tommy." Although his voice sounded curt, it wasn't rude or arrogant, this was simply the way he spoke. You nodded, and he walked in, shutting the door behind you.

"How can I help you?" You asked him with a warm smile, ignoring the sudden thumping in your heart.

You were sure you caught a small hint of a smile on the man's lips, and it was easier to read because he hardly ever did that. But just as faint the smile was, it vanished when he stepped closer.

"How did this happen?"

His palm reached up to your face, his thumb grazing over the bruise underneath your left eye, and you flinched slightly, not from the touch, but from the realization that you had forgotten all about your pretty obvious injuries. You took a sharp breath, and bit the insides of your cheeks.

"Those men, they tried to– "

Tommy Shelby's eyes darkened, and you felt his demeanour shift to more rigid, his body stiffening.

"Never again."

"What?" You asked, when you heard him mutter in a low voice.

"Never again would anyone fucking dare to do that."

A sudden flush crept over you, and you were sure you were blushing scarlet in front of him, so you drew your eyes away for a bit, fixing your gaze on a set of peonies right next to him.

"Come with me. Close the shop and come with me– ," he suddenly said, out of the blue and caused you to snap your head back at him. You were planning to find him after your shift yourself, but now here he was, asking you to come with him, and you had no idea where.

"– Please."

Your heart almost skipped a beat. The please was the softest you had ever heard from him.

"Alright, five minutes," you replied, your mind in a daze.

"Where are we going, Mr. Shelby?" Five minutes later, you tugged on your coat to pull it tighter against your frame, as the winter chill was biting down on you. Thomas Shelby was walking next to you with a lit cigarette in his hand.

"The office. I needed your help with something, hope that isn't a bother?"

"Mhm, not at all." You smiled back.

After a few minutes, you stepped into his office and the first thing he did was help you out of your coat, and you thanked him politely before you followed him through his office. A few of the Peaky boys were still there, and your eyes met with Isaiah who gave you a look that pretty much was asking you what you were doing here, so you gave him a look back that said that you were just doing what he asked you to, your eyes pointing towards Tommy, who was walking in front of you.

Tommy cleared his throat, as he switched on the lights of his office, and immediately your throat went dry, your breathing hitching slightly. There was a whole rack of dresses in there, the ones that you had been admiring at the seamstress shop. Tommy's gaze followed yours as he noticed you looking at the dresses, and he let his lips curve into a smile, knowing you weren't looking.

"Can you, eh, help me out? There's, well, a woman I fancy who I wanted to give these to. I was wondering if she would, eh, like it?"

You didn't know where this feeling had gnawed out from. You knew it but you didn't want to believe it. When you heard his words, the smile that was playing on your lips broke suddenly, a dry lump forming in your throat. Of course he had another woman. He only needed your help.

"I,uh– " Words didn't fall out of your lips, and you were afraid he would notice how your eyes had now a glossy sheen on them, so you averted your gaze and slowly walked up to the dresses, admiring them, your fingers brushing through the satin fabric of one of the green ones, "These are lovely Thomas, of course she would love it."

He gave you a faint nod, and you stepped away, running your hand awkwardly through your hair. A sudden hushed silence fell over and you slowly stepped away, looking towards the door. "Well, I should leave with Isaiah now. And Mr. Shelby, thank you. For what you did for me."

You didn't wait for him to reply, but rather, you hurriedly turned your tail, and took a deep breath, slowly walking out. You didn't know why, but your heart was hurting now, and you didn't know why you were feeling this sudden dejection inside of you, for you had never seen him in any other way before.

"Wait."

His words caused you to abruptly stop, your hand on the doorframe, but your back turned towards him. You didn't turn around, for a loose tear had managed to slide down your cheek, and you didn't want him to see it.

"Would you take these dresses with you or shall I send one of the lads?" There was a hint of a teasing in his voice.

You turned around, your eyes widened.

"I– "

He finally walked up to where you were standing by the door, and almost leaned in, until his lips were directly above your ear, and he whispered softly, "I'll send them over love. They're yours."

"Thomas, I– "

His index finger pressed against your lips, almost grazing over the dried up cut.

"Wear the green tomorrow, I'll pick you up from your shop at 8 eh?"

You nodded, your lower lip trembling underneath his touch, and a sudden shiver running through your body. It felt like you were frozen in time, and hypnotized. Isaiah's voice finally snapped you out of the trance you were in, followed by his head poking in as he asked if you were ready to leave, and you nodded.

Once again, as you were about to step out through the door, you hurriedly turned towards him, and noticed that he had settled into his desk, so you blurted out, your words coming out so fast, it felt as though you were hyperventilating.

"Is this a date?"

He sat back, his fingers toying with the box of cigarettes, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Aren't you a slow bloomer, love? Remember to wear that green. Green is definitely your colour."

You bite your lip, unconsciously, and nodded, finally walking away from him, but you had the warmest of smiles on your face. You were nervous, how it was going to go, for people weren't going to welcome whatever little you had with Thomas Shelby, and they were probably going to abhor it. But you were also happy, that this man had chosen you, by his own free will, and was finally treating you like you actually deserved. You closed your eyes, hoping that this would actually last.

You didn't know if green was really your colour, but green somehow did become your favourite colour the minute Tommy Shelby asked you to wear it.

𖠁𐂃𖠁

A/N : I'm sorry this turned out pretty long, hope you guys liked this.💚

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[coveredinbees]

I started writing another kathony thing. And it's... well... it's smutty as all hell, I'm not going to lie. It's an AU, and includes references to sex work in the regency period, male impotence, and a few creative swear words that would make your mother cry.

So I'm going to post a little teaser for my new fic under the cut, to spare those of you who are not particularly interested in that sort of thing.

"Duels and Duality"

Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was used to frequenting bawdy houses. But, after a duelling injury leaves him feeling a little insecure in the bedroom, he decides to try his hand - and other parts - at Covent Garden's most exclusive establishment. It all appears to be for nought when he finds none of the ladies can peak his interest. Until he sees one exotic beauty from across the room...

Kate Sharma is not a lady of the night. She is, in fact, a destitute war widow and nurse struggling to make an honest living after the end of the Napoleonic War. But one evening, as she's tending to a broken wrist of Covent Garden's leading courtesan, she finds herself being propositioned by a handsome stranger. She can't deny the attraction, and she might even have been tempted to go with him, if he hadn't started waving a wad of money in front her face. Instead, however, she offers to do something else - to fix his lame leg, and rehabilitate him back into polite society.

Could this be the start of a beautiful friendship?"

Teaser under the cut:

For the second time that evening, it started to snow. This did not bode well for Anthony Bridgerton. As he had not been able to navigate his carriage through the narrow roads of Covent Garden, Anthony had to satisfy himself with limping along the iced-over cobbled streets until he found the place he was looking for. It was a less-than-ideal situation. There was something about the chill in the air that made the muscles around his old injury ache, and more than once he felt his right leg give way underneath him. If it hadn’t been for his walking stick, he would have keeled over entirely. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to find the right place. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket with numbed fingers, checking the address there against the townhouse in front of him. Hind Close. Yes, this was definitely the place. Unfamiliar as he was with this part of town, it had taken him longer than usual to find where he was going, and it was only the cold bite of the January wind that meant he could make his slow journey without being accosted by anyone. This part of town was normally rife with pickpockets and drunkards, but unlike Anthony, any man, woman or child with a lick of sense was sitting indoors right now, huddling around a roaring fire. He sighed, dragging his lame leg up the steps of the townhouse. There were times in life when you didn’t realise you had done something stupid until it was too late. And then there were times when you were fully aware that you were in the middle of doing something stupid, but you carried on doing it any way. Even as he lifted the knocker on the nondescript townhouse, he realised that today fell into the latter category.

Knocking on the the door, he waited for a moment for someone to open it. Instead, the door remained firmly shut, and thick, cockney voice emanated from somewhere within.

“Wot’s the password?” The password? Damn. Benedict had told him this. Hang on. “Elysium.” He said. There was a moment of silence, and for one horrible moment Anthony thought they might turn him away. He desperately needed to rest his leg, and he wasn’t sure he could make it back through the winding streets of Covent Garden without assistance. But then there was a metallic thunk – the familiar sound of an iron deadbolt being pulled back, and then the door was opened. Anthony was met with a blast of warm air and the sweet scent of rose and lavender water wafting from inside. The man standing at the door was a wall of a man, with brutishly thick arms and a cauliflower ear. He wasn’t the sort of man Anthony had seen before, not even at Gentleman Jackson‘s boxing ring. This man, with his scarred face and non-too-inviting sneer, he was not like anyone Anthony had ever met before. Regardless, the man stepped aside and waited patiently while Anthony dragged himself through the door. Anthony didn’t wait to be invited. He collapsed onto a chair by the door, not even caring that he was leaving a trail of muddied snow behind him. As the doorman closed the front door behind him, he regarded Anthony with little interest. “Y’new then?” “Pardon?” “I said, are yer new 'ere, or what? I ain’t seen you round ‘ere before.”

No, Anthony supposed, he wouldn’t have. This was his first time at such an establishment.

“Yes. I suppose you could say I’m ‘new’.” The man grunted. “I’ll get Madame Charlotte then. She’ll sort yer out.” “Much obliged.” Quite against his will, Anthony felt his head fall back against the wall. He closed his eyes. God, his leg was throbbing. He already knew that this was a mistake, but there was quite literally no turning back now. At least, not until he’d had a chance to rest his leg and hopefully a dram or two for the pain. He opened his eyes lazily, watching as the great, hulking doorman disappeared behind a red curtain, presumably to find Madame Charlotte.

Anthony sighed. He was miles from home, and his footman had parked the carriage somewhere in the more respectable area of town. Even after he rested his leg, he would have a devil of a time walking back – especially if this snow kept up. But then, he supposed, wasn’t that the whole idea? In order for his plan to work, he had to go to a place where he wouldn’t be recognised. To be clear, despite Anthony’s rakish reputation he had never actually visited a bawdy house before. Or rather, perhaps he should say that he had never engaged the services of une femme galante before. All of Anthony’s previous dalliances – of which there had been many – had been with either divorced women or women of the stage. And yes, he’d kept a mistress or two in his time. And yes, he had spent more than his fair share of money on trinkets. But that was different. Those were gifts. There was something about the transactional nature of bawdy houses that didn’t really sit well with him. To Anthony, the whole point of pleasuring a woman was to, well… pleasure a woman. It had to be reciprocal, otherwise he didn’t see the fucking point.

Paying a woman to bed with you, well. It was a bit embarrassing really, wasn’t it?

And honestly, if Anthony had his way he certainly wouldn’t be sitting in a Bawdy House right now, if he had any other option. Anthony grimaced, rubbing his face with an ice-cold hand. So what was he doing here now?

Of course, he already knew the answer. He was here, because he was desperate.

You see, Anthony Bridgerton was not a man that was prone to misjudgement; but when he did misjudge something he did so spectacularly and with long-lasting effect. It was a misjudgement that led him to challenging Lord Carnarvon to a duel some three years previous after a particularly heavy night of drinking, and it was a misjudgement that led to him getting shot in the leg. If it wasn’t for his brother’s quick thinking, and for the skill of a particularly renowned surgeon, he most certainly would have died. Hell, he thought, sitting up in the chair and stretching his pained leg out in front of him, it was a damned miracle that he’d got to keep his leg at all. But as it was, there was a large, tennis-ball shaped indentation where his thigh muscle used to be, and it was visible even through the thick fabric of his britches. The dead tissue of his leg had been purposefully removed in a grotesquely painful procedure that the surgeon had called ‘debridement’. Anthony, feverishly out of his mind the entire time, remembered little of event except that it had involved applying maggots to the infected area. Maggots. Those damned maggots. He saw them in his dreams, even now.

So apart from being in near permanent pain all the time, Anthony was now grotesquely misshapen. His former lovers couldn’t even bear to look at him, let alone take him into their beds. And, Anthony thought, even if he could somehow persuade some poor, desperate woman into seduction, he was in near permanent agony. Although his wound had long since healed over, the muscles spasmed like the devil himself was twisting a knife in his leg, and the sorry fact of the matter was, (and in many ways, this was the worst part)…

The sorry fact of the matter was that the famous Viscount Bridgerton, (the society papers’ darling and the once the ton’s most sought-after bachelor), was now a disfigured monster that could go weeks at a time without even getting a fucking erection.

It was painful. No, it was more than painful – it was humiliating. He’d once been famous for his appetites, and sought-after for his skills as a lover. Now here he was in his late twenties, looking down at his stubbornly non-tumescent cock and wondering if the bullet wound hadn’t somehow nicked a muscle or a nerve or something that was integral to the most valuable part of his anatomy. For any man, not being able to get a cockstand would be bad enough, but for a man with a title – a Viscount no less, who regardless of his injury, was still somehow expected to marry, produce an heir and carry on the family name – why, it was the end of the world.

If his cock couldn’t work, well – he might as well sign the viscountcy over to Benedict right now.

Benedict had been none-too-pleased with that particular suggestion. Anthony knew his brother and had no interest in a title that had been earmarked for Anthony all his life, but he never appreciated how much of an aversion the man had to being the Viscount until he floated the idea past him one day. He’d never seen a man turn quite so pale. And so, without going into too much detail, Anthony had relayed to his brother the distressing news that his injury was preventing him from, ahem, partaking in his preferred activities, and somehow Benedict had managed to produce a copy of Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies with surprising alacrity.

So that was why he was here. Suddenly, he had seen the appeal of the transactional nature of bawdy houses. Perhaps if he could pay a woman enough, she would be willing to overlook his deformity. And it wasn’t like he was looking to fuck anyone – in fact, he didn’t rightly see how he could, the pain being the way it was - but he was sure that given the right woman, she could take him in hand, or maybe in her mouth, and try to breathe life back into his stubbornly flaccid cock. If he could get the damn thing working again, then at least that would be a step in the right direction.

So here he was. Hind Close. Which, according to Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies, housed the most exclusive and high-price cyprian beauties that money could buy. He had chosen this establishment firstly, because it was far from home and he didn’t want to be recognised by anyone, but also because the women here had a reputation for being choosey in their clientele. No man could walk up to these women and demand their services for a price; no, the woman had to agree. And allegedly, Hind Close’s books were so full and their clientele so numerous that the women here could afford to pick and choose their gentlemen.

As hideous as he was, he didn’t want to force himself on anyone – nor did he want a women to feel obligated to take his money and his body. He could make an offer here, and feel secure in the knowledge that the women would be able to say ‘no’ if his leg was too disgusting for them to bear.

Which, he thought sadly, they probably would.

[empirexsin]

retrouvaille / @treebitched​

his life has been a journey that most people would gasp in disbelief, or simply not believe at all. he recalls being a small boy. guessing his age would be pointless, but he knows he still had some sense of innocence, idiocy, and ignorance about the world. the three i’s that seem to be the key to a blissful existence if they can be maintained. he liked pulling things apart - objects, and then, putting them back together again. it had started when he had broken his uncle’s camouflage-designed lighter. his uncle had always lied about how he had been a military man and fought in all kind of wars. the reality was, that he was a bum and had been in so much trouble with the law, that no good place of work would take him. and so, it seemed like being a fabricated veteran was a good enough excuse to tell people as to why he didn’t work. 

but max had known the lighter had meant a lot to him. as if it would continue this image he’d created of himself. and he knew, that if unfixed, his uncle would do what he often did - and often didn’t need an excuse for; violence. max had quite a knack for fixing things. his mother, a mentally ill, abused woman, had doted over max claiming that he’d be a doctor when he was older - a surgeon. but they had such little money for an education that the idea of such a profession seemed laughable. it was only when max got into computers that he’d earned enough money to buy himself into college. to sit among kids from hallmark happy families and middle-class upbringings. for a while, they seemed to look at max as if he were the token poor kid. it was only when he began to use his intelligence, to laugh in their faces at their mistakes, and use manipulation, that he won them over. charm, he’d learned, was a good way to lure people into false security. 

he’d fucked many women throughout college. he’d smile and they’d flock to him like geese after breadcrumbs. and becoming this heartless killing machine, max had learned more things about people. like how plants are more courageous than human beings: an orange tree would rather die than produce lemons whereas instead of dying, the average person would rather be someone they are not. it’s why he finds that when he kills, it’s merciful rather than cruel. people just don’t see it that way. far too weaved into sociological ideas of how society should be. but all of these unwritten rules are written by white men from the 1500s. and max could say a lot about that time in history. 

things had changed when he met willow. simple willow. blonde and stupid. he could have killed her. should have. didn’t. somehow along the way had found himself fascinated and infatuated with her. somewhere along the way, had become distant from her. if only because she had met another man. someone seemingly more trustworthy than max. more truthful in her eyes, but max thinks she only likes the truth when it’s said with flowers and soft-spoken words. not direct, harsh overtones. he hadn’t seen her since. a weird disappearance. nothing in the news. or the papers. no words were spoken about her on the street. just gone like a leaf being blown by the wind. you see it one moment and don’t think about it when it’s out of your eye line. 

but tonight he’d seen her. he was out of town. skipped town. hands in pockets on a cold night, in a big coat. the road is quiet. empty. he waits for the bus that comes every hour thirty. but he sees her, across the street, like some kitten that’s been dumped in a cardboard box by some lousy owner who can’t make a quick purchase on a dumb cat. and joy fills him. and aggression. he wants to hurt her with how overwhelmed he feels with this...happiness. psychologists will call it cute aggression, but they don’t understand how easy it would be for max to actually follow through with killing her right now. “ weepy, ” he calls as if he’s recalling a dog that has fetched a ball. “ don’t tell me this is where mister romantic has left you. this isn’t very paris ” 

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 3)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,036

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage

Month: February

Year: 2021

It had been three years since you saw your parents being murdered in your living room and since the civil war started.

Society had fallen.

First, it was the fight for the cure, then it was the fight for protection. Next, came the riots, the fight for food, and eventually, it all became a survival of the fittest.

Electricity and communication were no more. You don’t even remember the last time you saw a working TV. Family was no more. Violence and dishonesty were now the brutal answer.

These days, protection came in the form of clothing you owned and how much you had of it. After it became apparent that this virus was actually a bacteria born and flesh-eating disease, everyone did what they could to try and keep their skin protected as much as possible. It ate through the skin and took over your body like a plague. Heavy clothing equaled less chance of being infected. It didn’t take very long for clothing stores to be looted along with the grocery and drug stores.

Eventually, you’d have to make use of any clothing you found on dead bodies that were killed by assassination and not by the virus itself. You couldn’t risk that.

But even that was rare to come by. Everyone jumped at the opportunity of a clothed dead corpse. Whether it was for the scarf, the pants, shoes, or socks.

During the riots, most of the homes had all been destroyed either by fire or vandalism. Some tainted by dead bodies; murder scenes. Some eaten by the virus. You didn’t want to live in a home that was infected. Destroyed homes were ruined by the winter’s harsh snowstorms and the summer’s heavy rainfall. Because of their collapsed ceilings mixed in with the weather, it all eventually began to mold and collapse.

Life was no more, happiness and serenity were gone, except for in The Capitol.

No one could get inside The Wall. You heard rumors that it was guarded by heavy military and machine guns, and all of Hydra.

The Capitol was a place where your parents had planned for every single one of you to make use of to help you survive and live a happy life. It was supposed to be a safe haven, not this.

It was now the place that had been savagely stolen by Hydra and the evil rich. The migration into The Capitol had happened very soon after your parent’s death. The rich, elite, privileged, and only some certain politicians, were taken in.

The other politicians, you heard in rumors, had either killed themselves or were killed by other government officials, just like your parents had been. You heard rumors that this had been an undercover mission for years. They all knew how to take over the moment it was necessary.

Even the doctors and scientists had been taken with them. And you wondered if it was at their own will. Meanwhile, everyone else - people like you and Will and simple middle-class families with children - were forced to fight each other to stay alive.

A bloodbath.

The first few months you and Will had refused to fight anyone for food. That wasn’t in your moral plans. But it had eventually come a day when neither of you had eaten in three days, and the only thing left, in a dirty store off Route 95, was a loaf of bread. You, Will, and this random girl all argued until you eventually agreed on splitting it into three pieces.

The girl had been chewing her piece, devouring like she hadn’t eaten in days when her eyes landed on the tattoo on your neck, and immediately you knew she knew who you were. Her eyes grew dark and she jumped at the chance to attack you when Will came from behind, hitting her on the back of the head with a heavy bucket, making her pass out.

You knew that no one really knew what happened to your family. They all think it was your parent’s intentions for all of these horrible things to have happened. They blame you and your family for this. This only made you want to avenge your parents even more and even Will knew. This life wasn’t what they wanted, and it’s not what you wanted either.

You had been sitting one night, in the middle of a forest in Connecticut around a blazing fire, eating a fish you had just caught with your handmade spear. It had fed you both for many months. Will smiled over the fire at you, licking the meat off the bone clean.

“We’ll get there, Y/N.”

You stared at the fire in a daze. You hadn’t lost hope. Or at least you don’t think you did. Your feet had been bare for weeks and they were starting to chafe and bleed.

You wouldn’t admit it, but part of you did lose a little hope. You feared the first snowfall of the year. It was almost comical to you how your last worry at the moment was frostbite.

You took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the Tilapia. You wrapped your heavy scarf over your shoulders.

“I know, I’m just tired. I wish I had more strength, I wish we had more strength. There’s two of us and thousands of them, Will.”

It was the first sign of doubt you had shown in months, and it surprised Will slightly.

“I know, but we can do it. I know we can.” he licked his fingers clean and then laid down on the wet and cold grass, his hands behind his head.

Could you do it? You weren’t sure anymore. You knew you wanted to kill Hydra and you wanted to overtake The Capitol. But were you two really capable of doing that? Have you two been delusional this entire time?

“Its been three years. Three years.” You said softly. Exhausted.

“True, but we’re young. And we’re smart. We have an advantage they don’t. That.” He bent one of his legs and stared up at the scars, a small smile tainting his lips, “We could always call The Avengers.”

You scoffed, running your hands through your hair as you threw the bare spine into the fire. You were a bit sad you finished it, your tummy still turning in hunger.

“What Avengers? Hydra destroyed their home, everything. They tried to fight and they lost. Worst than when Thanos beat them. And to make matters worse, this is a virus, it’s not something they can necessarily control. They’ve become overpowered, even the damn Avengers are overpowered now by Hydra. This is like a horror movie that will never end. It’s time we face the facts.”

Will smirked.

“I don’t know if I buy it. You mean to tell me even Bruce fucking Banner couldn’t break that damn wall?”

You gave him a glare.

“I don’t think the goal here is to break The Wall. If anything that would ruin the purpose, don’t you think?” you picked up a small and harmless rock and threw it at his chest, making him cringe, “dipshit.”

Will continued to stare up at the stars.  The night was midnight black, and now since there was no longer any electricity, you could even see the milky-way.

“I don’t see this ending badly.”

You wish you had his good heart and good soul. You furrow your brows at him.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“This whole thing. We’ll fix it, I know we will. I don’t know how, but it will happen. I’m sure of it.”

You consider his words and nod. You slowly take your time to get up and walk over to where he is. You pull your heavy apocalyptic-style hood over your head and scooch over closer to him. You cross your own arms behind your head, also looking up at the stars. They looked beautiful, and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to feel even a little bit serene.  This is why you enjoyed Will. He was your best friend and your guardian angel.

“You really think so?” You ask.

Will turned his head over and looked at you. You did the same thing, staring back into his eyes.

You were suddenly afraid; afraid of losing your friend. What would you do without a good soul like him to keep you sane and strong?

“I do.” There was no trace of doubt in his voice.

Still, you tried to believe him, you really did.

You and Will began to fend for survival. You often thought of killing your parent’s murderer when you would both be laying under a tree in the cold of the night trying to fall asleep. You would never forget that face.  You and Will would both alternate between being watchmen to guard your food and weapons. You mostly used the weapons just for hunting, but you never knew what could happen. Still, you remained alert and vigilant.

You both never ventured too much into the city, trying to stay on the outskirts as much as you possibly could. But one day you had cut your hand while trying to spear more seafood in a riverbed, and the cut ended up being deeper than you could manage. Not only did you fear it to get in the way of your hunting, but you also didn’t want your blood seeping in through your clothing, making it more versatile to the virus.

You both found a looted, but in not-too-bad-of-a-condition, dollar store just off the freeway. You both climbed over some of the abandoned cars, making sure to look in each one just in case there was something worth taking.

You got to the entrance of the store, and Will told you he would be outside waiting and keeping guard while you looked for some bandages.

The store was almost completely empty, yet you found your way into the med isle, stepping over fallen light fixtures and useless items like beanie babies and dusted up Happy Birthday cards. You were rummaging through some boxes when you heard it.

A scream.

Will.

Your heart jumped into your throat and you acted on autopilot. You didn’t second guess, you ran through the doors and over the fallen cable wires without hesitation. Your eyes searched the eery and abandoned parking lot. You didn’t see him and you screamed Will’s name over and over again, running around the deserted parking lot. You knew it was dangerous, but you had to find him. You heard a groan and you quickly saw him lying against the curb off to the side of the highway, his arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

You feared the worst.

“No, no,” you repeated to yourself. You tried to be careful to not slip on the black ice beneath your leather boots.

You ran towards his fallen body and the first thing you say was how pale he was. His face was emotionless. Most likely shock. You crouched down next to him and you pulled his arm away from his chest. You saw a knife sticking out from his upper abdomen and blood.

A lot of blood.

He was panting and it didn’t take you long to look up across the street. There was a man faced down into the pavement. You swallowed thickly, knowing there was a fight and Will had gotten hurt.

“He saw you and he kept saying he wanted your coat, he was a loon and he had a machete, and he — and he—” Will panted.

“Shhh, shhh.” You hugged him tightly to your body as you rocked him back and forth.

“I wanted to protect you.” “I know, Will. I know.” You cried, closing your eyes tightly together and holding him closer.

He barely coughed out, his eyes rolling back.

“It hurts.” He cried.

You saw heavy tears cloud your vision and you felt a sense of impending doom.

“I got you, Will, I got you.” You don’t know if you were speaking to him or yourself.

He stretched his arm up and grabbed yours, pulling your embrace tighter around his body.

“We’ll get them, Y/N. We’ll avenge your parents, I promise. I’m too strong for this.” He squeaked, “I won’t die.” He said through clenched teeth.

Tears ran down your face as you watched him grab his own open abdomen.

“You are, Will. You are so strong.” Your face tilted to the side as more sobs racked through your body, “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t be alone. I can’t do this alone.”

You felt his nimble fingers dig into your elbow, smearing you with his blood.

“I’m so sorry.” He whimpered, some blood escaping his lips this time.

“Please, please.” You cried over and over again, holding him tighter to your chest.

It didn’t take much longer for you to feel him go limp in your arms. Your body shook with your cries when you repeated it back to yourself: Will was dead.

You didn’t allow yourself to cry for too long. You wanted to but you knew you needed to keep moving, and being this exposed could only cost you your life.

You quickly found a nice area, the nicest you could possibly find in an arena of death, and you carefully laid Will’s body down. Ironically, it was in a field of dead daisies. You delicately draped his arms over his chest and you whispered your goodbyes to him. You took a moment to cherish who he was. He was a lonely son of a construction worker and an accountant. His bother died two years ago after being infected. He had been in pain for a long time, but he had a good heart, and he strived to stay at your side to help you. You let your tears fall on your hands as you held his for just a few more minutes.

No more than a half-hour later after finding some bandages, you were back in the woods, continuing your journey south. You pulled out the compass that Will had given you, just to be sure. It was close to dusk when you heard the sound of a river running down below. Your stomach grumbled, suddenly feeling very hungry again. You had been out of luck today, finding not even one squirrel or deer. Not even a bird.

You hadn’t eaten since that morning when you and Will had split a couple of spare pumpkin seeds. Your chest tightened at the thought of him again. You felt awful for just leaving him in the field like that. You knew someone would find him soon and take the clothing off his body to keep for their own. But you had no choice. And there was no time for a proper burial, at least not in the middle of a city like that.

You continued your walk more and more, the boots that you had stolen off a girl’s body, squishing in the mood and dirt beneath your feet. You were thankful it hadn’t snowed yet this year. The cold was already unbearable as it was, if there was snow it would only make your journey worst. You couldn’t take it for granted.

You don’t know how much farther you walked since you had no watch. No one had watches anymore. Time didn’t exist anymore. But, it would help in order for you to estimate your location and how far you had left in your journey. You were guessing, realistically, it had been about an hour, judging by how much darker the sky now was.

You knew you needed to find a corner to settle in and build a fire. You needed a place to sleep for the night. Food would have to wait until tomorrow, you would go to sleep hungry again.

You take a deep breath and rest your hand on a large tree. You were extremely fatigued, in desperate need of water. You had been dehydrated for a while. You knew your canteen was running low so you had to savor as much as you could.

You took necessary sips here and there.

You drift your eyes over the horizon and through the broken branches until your gaze lands of a patch of grass that looked decent enough for a rest stop. You would lay your dirty rag you call a blanket there and get some rest.

You slowly started your walk, tucking your canteen back into your bag.

You heard owls in the sky around you and you grew worried as you began to realize that with Will now gone you were truly alone. There was no way you could avenge your parents alone. You couldn’t go into The Capitol alone.

You had no chance.

Your hands grew clammy and you started feeling worried sick, your mind now in overdrive.

You were screwed. You were all alone and screwed and there was no chance in hell you were going to come out of this alive. Suddenly, you find yourself angry at Will. Angry for lying to you and saying that everything would be okay.

How could he say that? How could he lie to make you believe it was true? You wouldn’t be capable of doing this alone? Even the Avengers couldn’t do this, even the Earth’s mightiest heroes could not win against Hydra, yet here you were trying to overthrow an entire city filled with them?

You remember the people talking about how their compound had been bombed and destroyed. They didn’t have a home anymore. They had three missions where they tried to overthrow it and failed miserably. It pained you to see that your parents hope for the future had become a living hell of blood and war. How could Will have so much faith in you? You remember the feel of his limp body in your arms and your sadness is unbearable.

More tears found your eyes and you rubbed your wet nose over the back of your sleeve. Something heavy caught the tip of your boot, and with a shriek you found yourself tumbling down and down.

Then, everything went dark.

[lackadaisical-lesbian]

I am so tired of people missing the point so let's talk about a specific take I keep hearing in reference to Rei and Endeavor

So the specific take is that if Endeavor had just gone about his goal differently not only would he have succeeded, but he would have done so ethically

If he and Rei were just a team instead of just a Hero and A Mother; if he played up the family image and Rei doubled as a wife and a sort of pr manager, and how that family image would have boosted his ratings(one person even said "if Rei had a backbone" and to that person: go fuck yourself, that's not how domestic abuse works you uncompassionate fuck)

However while this may fix the domestic abuse part if the relationship, it still misses the point. Endeavor did not come into this marriage with the intent to beat his wife and child, he did not intend to neglect his children from the get-go. That is something he did as a means to an end. Saying he did so by accident would obviously be a lie, but he did not wake up one day and decide "Abuse Is Okay, Actually". The manga makes it clear this is more of a spiral; he came into this marriage with a goal: produce and raise a heir, he got worse and worse over time.

The reason I'm highlighting the spiral here is because the narrative point is that Endeavor's goals were wrong. His intent is flawed. His reason for starting a family is inherently unethical, and his single minded focus of a selfish goal is what produced the consequences. He did not have a family because he felt he was ready to have children with the woman he loves, just for the sake of that family and those children. Their happiness and wellbeing was secondary to his goal.

Having a equal relationship with his wife isn't fixing all the problems; so long as he has kids for the purpose of a legacy, to give them some sort of pre-determined goal he is wrong. As long as he has kids for the sake of his career he is Wrong.

(That's not to say that people who have kids for the joy if it, or out of love for family can't be abusers, just that Enji was wrong from the get go)

Furthermore, this also fucks with the major themes of bnha. The Todoroki family is pretty symbolic of and involved in all the major themes and messages of the show.

The major message is that society creates it's own problems; that the false dichotomy of heroes verse villains is inherently flawed and a self fulfilling system. Society gives people roles based on their quirks; those with flashy quirks are given privilege and encouraged to be heroes whether that want to or not, people with unappealing or "scary" quirks(or just mutant quirks) are harassed and called villians, limiting that persons options and making it difficult to be anything but what society tells them they are, weak quirked or quirkless people either have to work extra hard to be a hero, or are denied anything but ridicule and forced mediocrity. There's other things that intersect with this, like class, family heritage, or queerness(seen through Magne).

Societies often play a game of sacrifice; what are you willing to sacrifice? Who are you willing to sacrifice? What is the cost you are willing to pay(or let someone else pay) in order to sustain the current social order? In my hero the sacrifice comes in the form of the underprivileged, and of children's lives. This society is forced to contend with that fact, and the consequence of the war arc and the resolution of this arc will answer that question, but so far the answer seems to be that, no, this is not something they can sacrifice. Systems made in blood to maintain a hierarchy are unsustainable.

This hierarchy is exemplified by the hero ranking system. If you think about this system of more than a moment it becomes clear that it's pointless and harmful. The most effective form of hero-ing would involve cooperation, transparency, and community outreach, and the ranking undermines all of that. When teams start being formed post-culture festival it's inspite of the system.

You get higher ranking (more money/notoriety/fame) by a) arrest numbers and b) popular vote. This creates a system where heroes are competing and trying to arrest as many people as possible, which makes teamwork difficult and can produce carelessness and property damage. Also, they are incentivized to preform more-so than do their jobs. This means focusing on high-traffic areas, wealthy areas, appeal to people more likely to vote, and preform for the camera. The focus isn't inherently on saving lives, it's on preforming. Working with criminals, minimizing crime, and actually making things safer is actively discouraged in this system because of the way it's made. There can't be heroes without villians, so they have to keep the villains around because this is a profitable industry. And it doesn't even have to be real villains! Most people aren't committing mass murder! Why do you thing the first scene in the show shows a man who stole a purse being called a villain, with the heroes(specifically Mt. Lady) escalating the situation and preforming for the camera? Mha isn't subtle in it's themeing.

And the public doesn't realize these things because of propaganda and "they're a hero! Of course they're saving lives, that's their job!" The public is both being deceived and acting as an active and passive participant in upholding this system.

So, what does this have to do with the Todoroki family?

Well, for one Endeavor serves as an example that being a hero does not equal being a good person. He also shows the flaws of the system in how notoriety and competition has unhealthy and damaging results.

One important thing to acknowledge is that society is currently answering what is a cost they're willing to pay? Well, they've decided that the Todoroki family is an appropriate price. Sure, he's faced backlash because one of his sons is a Mass Murderer, and some people are, in fact, not chill with domestic violence. But. They need him for the war effort, so he doesn't face consequences. Not significant ones, anyways. Because he never cared what the public thinks, he's never tried to put on a PR friendly mask. Their word's don't hurt him. He has interpersonal consequences, but that's it. They've decided the perceived protection Endeavor the hero gives them is more important than justice for the harm Endeavor the father has done.

TLDR: The Todoroki family has thematic importance, and saying if Endeavor respected his wife everything would be fine is missing an important fundamental message that his intentions in starting a family were flawed. Disregarding the messages in the story and how they intersect with the Todoroki family is also harmful.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES {Quarterback AU}

Summary: When his brother forces him to go on a double date with him and with a girl that absolutely hates Grayson, he’s forced to realize that their mutual disdain might have been caused by his own actions.

Warnings: swearing, a lot of banter

Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N - this is sort of a version of This Is War (Ethan frat/soulmate fic), but there are no soulmates here. It’s probably bad since I stress wrote it instead of studying, but it’s also kind of fun? I guess I’m a sucker for enemies trope. Also, I am writing Fix me finale, but it will take me a while because I am back in college for the next month and a half or so and I have back to back exams every 2 or 3 days. Hope you guys understand and I hope you like this one as well. 

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Ethan never thought he'd have to beg his brother to accompany a beautiful woman on a date, but he still found himself in front of his arm-crossed twin and his defiant glare.

„No. Not happening.“ Grayson is adamant, refusing to budge and most definitely not when it's her who they want him to go out with. Why can't they find someone else to be their double date?! He just didn't see the sanity in that decision.

„I'm asking as a brother!“ Ethan pulled his twin card, hoping to see change in Grayson who simply laughed in his face before turning his back on him, still stubbornly refusing to even consider it.

„Bruh, never gonna happen.“

Rolling his eyes, Ethan's annoyance grows as he's forced to walk in front of his brother who seems damn determined to fuck up his night even after he tried to bribe him with chores, cash, even his dear Smooth cat.

„She's Amina's best friend. I am begging you, please, don't make me call mom on you.“ And that's when he played the ultimate card – the mom card. There isn't a woman in the world as important to Grayson as his mother, but then again, there isn't a woman as capable of making him do things he'd never want to do.

„Seriously? Playing the mom card now? What are we, like 10? Plus, why would she even want me as a date?! She fucking hates me and I'm pretty sure she's mental. You're putting your favorite brother in the line of fire.“ Reasoning with Ethan had never been fruitful in the past, but even as he watches Ethan shrug his pleas off his shoulders, Grayson clings to some hope he'd manage to escape this whole ordeal. It's probably the only time he had ever regretted being a playboy instead of having a girlfriend...taken men can't be forced into dates with their worst enemy.

„Favorite? You're my only brother, Grayson. It does not make you necessarily a favorite.“ Ethan retorted with furrowed eyebrows before tossing a white, classy shirt at his brother's chest. „Now get ready and be nice tonight, okay?“

Nostrils flared as he inhales deeply, staring daggers at Ethan's back as he leaves the room, Grayson yells after him: „No promises!“

To say he spent the entire drive over to the restaurant sulking would be an understatement. The last thing, absolutely the last thing, Grayson wanted to do now is to spend a few hours around Y/N Y/L/N.

You know those girls that are always seemingly fun but will cut you down with just a look if you make a single misstep? The girls that may be smaller than guys but cause terror in them whenever they scowl?

Y/N Y/L/N is the queen B of the club Grayson is certain exists as some secret college society of women that learn how to make men's lives miserable.

Sure, she's on good terms with everyone else, but Grayson always found her to be rude and mean-spirited with him. Every time he tried to bridge the distance between them for not only his brother's relationship but his own inner peace, she nearly chewed his head off. 

In time, Grayson learned to avoid her and her mood-swings, but he still found himself getting out of the car on this particular night, finding Amina in front of the restaurant and he could easily recognize Y/N, even from behind. Perhaps he's spent too much time admiring her ass in the past, but she wasn't hard to recognize, besides, who else would be helping Amina fix her hijab?

For a moment there, he just stands there on the curb, watching her as the wind picks up and her hair flies to the side, revealing her face as she steps away from Amina and giggles, the sound carried through the wind and to his unsuspecting ears. He thought her laugh is almost...tolerable...cute even.

Shaking his head vehemently, Grayson felt Ethan's hand on his shoulder and his expecting gaze as well.

„Come on. It might rain soon and I'd rather not worry if Amina will freeze to death when her clothes get wet.“

Sighing, Grayson follows his brother reluctantly, his gaze unwavering and on his enemy. She may be clothed in a beautiful green dress with bare back, but Grayson still remembers she's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

„Hey.“ Ethan smiles sheepishly at his dear Amina, giving her a small wave as she looks down shyly and her cheeks turn a darker shade. Their relationship is pure in Grayson's eyes – they rarely ever touch and when they do it's by accident and yet they seem to be inseparable. In a moment of weakness, he wished for something as simple and pure as they have too.

„Ugh. Grayson fucking Dolan? Seriously Amina?“ Y/N all but growled at her best friend who was forced to look at her instead of Ethan who really captured all her attention moments ago. Frowning, Grayson clears his throat, hoping to speak but Y/N continues.

„I thought I was supposed to be here with you as the third wheel because your dad insisted! Why call...“ She turns to Grayson, gesticulating to his face with slight disgust on her face before she adds: „Him.“

„Excuse me?!“ Grayson exclaims, quite frankly offended by the way she looked at him like he's not worth the dirt off her cheap heels, but she just turns to him with the fakest, fed-up smile she could muster.

„You may be excused.“ Showing him down the road, hoping he'd leave, Y/N looked at the way his face quickly changed from insulted, to angry, to wicked.

„Oh, no. I'm staying. Now that I know you have been blindsided into spending a whole dinner with me, I'd love for a chance to make your meal a little spicy.“ Winking, Grayson opened the door. Waiting for them to enter, Ethan and Amina were fast but Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the pavement, her eyes narrowed at him with suspicion.

„Waiting for a formal invitations, princess?“ Grayson clicks his tongue as he gestures with a nod for her to get inside, nearly bursting out laughing when she flinches with the thunder echoing in the street.

„You're just waiting for me to walk in order to let the door slam in my face.“ She guesses, looking up at the sky nervously as lightning tears the sky open.

„Maybe, but you'll never know if you don't come in. Or you can test your luck with the thunderstorm.“ Shrugging as if saying he's alright with either or, Grayson raises his eyebrow in challenge and then it crosses his mind – this is the first time since he met her that he has the reigns and it feels really, really good.

Pensive, she looks back up at the sky before shrugging. „I'd rather brave the storm then, quarterback.“

However, as she states her choice, rain starts to drizzle and the lightning illuminates every line of her frustrated face and her pouted lips as she closes her eyes in anticipation of what's to come. Brave...but stupid.

„Come in. I won't slam the door in your face.“ Clearing his throat, he adds. „My mama taught me better, alright?“

„Fine, but if you do, I know who to complain to then. Don't underestimate me, quarterback. I can find her number if I want to!“ Eyes narrower with every step she takes, arms tense as she expects him to go back on his word, she manages to walk into the restaurant without a scratch on her and surprisingly no attempt to even frighten her.

Y/N headed straight for the table next to Ethan and Amina, the only one available with 'reserved' card on it. She sat opposite of Amina so she could pick up on any signal her best friend sends, but also because she had many signals she wanted to send her and a middle finger might be one of them.

Of all the men in the universe, hell, of all the women in the universe, those two chose the quarterback from hell? She never quite understood how he and Ethan could be twins and be so fundamentally different but after the first two years, she just stopped trying to understand it – understand him, at all.

„Alright. What do you want to order?“ Grayson picks up the menu – the only menu on the table and she rolls her eyes at him again. „Might wanna watch the eye-rolls. Don't want your eyes getting stuck like that, do you?“

Glancing at Amina who just mouthed 'Please', Y/N let out a violent huff in utter frustration, even more so when Grayson continued to hog the menu.

„Why are you here? Really? Did they blindside you too?“ Y/N questions, more curious about how calm he seemed when he found her in front of the restaurant than the menu he holds. She can't eat much now when her appetite is for vengeance alone.

„Nope, Ethan played the mom card. I wouldn't be here otherwise, trust me.“ He responds without even looking at her, his eyes still going over the menu and if she didn't know better, she'd think he's confused.

„You have something better to do on a Saturday night? A girl perhaps? Did I cockblock you, quarterback?“ Raising her eyebrows with amusement, she leans in and cocks her head slightly to the left, awaiting for his response.

„Don't flatter yourself. My plans were more important than a girl. I was supposed to run on the treadmill.“

Shaking her head, finding his answer peculiar and she couldn't help herself but question him further. Besides, she had no other form of entertainment but to make steam come out of his ears.

„Running? That's more important? What the hell?“ Flabbergasted, she draws in a shaky breath as she puts a hand on her chest in surprise and Grayson dignifies her with a curious glance.

„Who chooses to spend a Saturday night on a treadmill?“

Putting down the menu, Grayson presses his tongue against his left cheek to reel his usually loud self which was always amplified around her.

„Someone who makes good life choices. Try it sometimes.“ Snarky tone he used made her bite her lower lip, slowly releasing the soft flesh with a little less lipstick than before. Shame – Grayson quite liked the red shade on her lips.

„Oh, quarterback, you're so scandalous. For future reference, if you ever see me running you should run too because I only run for my life...maybe not even then.“ Smacking her lips, she slyly grabbed the menu from his hands and looked it over herself. She noticed Ethan nod at his brother before they exchanged a few words in their weird gibberish language Amina told her about, though she had caught them doing so a few times before too.

„So, you're really into football, huh“, Grayson asks so naively, noticing exactly when she raised her eyes from the menu and up to him with a boy-you-better-run look and he gulps, aware she'd soon say something that would fuck everything up.

„Football? It's literally the last thing on my list of interests...hell, it's not even on the list!“ She exclaims, noticing Grayson's jaw clench and his eyes harden and Ethan facepalmed immediately, all too familiar with what will happen.

„Football is life! What do you mean it's not on the list?“ Shushed by Amina, he presses his lips together but his eyes are wide and wild and Y/N can't help but chuckle.

„It's the dumbest sport there is. All you do is throw hands with men with over-sized pads and helmets. You get concussions for fame? Fuck that.“ Tossing the menu on the center of the table, Y/N leans back in her chair as she notices a vein prominently showing on Grayson's forehead and she can't help but enjoy the view. There is nothing she likes better than a pissed off Grayson. He's got everyone treating him like a deity, but she was never among them. Perhaps it's because he fucked up when they first met, but she tried time and time again to give him the benefit of the doubt and he always proved her opinion of him, while abominable, is very accurate.

„Dumbest sport? Do you know how hard I work to be the very best on that field? The theories and strategies I have to learn? The physical preparations?!“ Whisper shouting, Grayson leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table and his biceps swell up as he moves some of his weight onto his arms and the table under him.

„Oh, wow! You work so hard? A doctor works hard, Grayson. They save lives and they will never earn the money you will earn after college. You're learning how to run zig-zag across the field with a crummy ball in your hands without falling, while doctors, lawyers, teachers, cashiers and many REAL professions are so underfunded and underpaid and you think that's fair?“ Shaking her head, she raises her hands in mock surrender, watching a little bit of Grayson's ego chip away and he shakes his head too, looking away as he keeps his mouth shut.

„Why do you even hate me so much?“ Grayson mumbled sometime during dinner -  a very quiet dinner.

Looking up at him through her eyelashes, she wondered if he really doesn't know. Hell, she always knew why she hates him, but she never knew why he hates her.

„You really don't know?“ She nearly chuckles when he shrugs, oblivious as always.

„Why is that somehow worse than everything you did?“ Talking to herself more than him, she lets out a heavy sigh. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Y/N presses her lips together and Grayson can't help but notice the red lipstick is once again evenly spread across her lips.

She remembered the way they met, the way he treats the girls, the pranks he pulled that left her mortified, or the nickname he started that followed her for a whole semester and most of all, she couldn't forgive him for scaring off a guy she thought she'd be with for a very, very long time.

„You're so smart and sure of yourself, figure it out.“ But then again, she did have an appetite for vengeance and he had no idea how ready she was to satisfy it.

He was clueless until Monday morning, right after practice when he was left last in the locker-rooms after his self-imposed morning practice. He was clueless as he walked out of the shower, confused as to where his towel is. He was clueless when his steam-clad body felt the breeze of the mysteriously open window in the locker-room had made him shiver.

However, when he opened his locker, Grayson was no longer clueless: his clothes – gone, his jersey – gone, his phone, bag and towels gone.

Everything is gone, yet when he looks at the mirror, he finds the cause for the message left in a very familiar shade of red gave him more than just a clue – XOXO next to a clear mark of a particular pair of lips he was admiring on Saturday night.

„Y/N FUCKING Y/L/N!“

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​ @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @dolandolll​ 

PART 2