#seeing your toxic ex move on without you with your other worst enemy is a Bad Time

[fantasticalleigh]

Drew's Mcintyre's No Good Very Bad day

[thr0wnawayy]

Dissecting the Jaku General Hospital Disaster and MHA's failures with complexity

Ahhh, The Jaku Hospital Raid. The point where MHA's story went from it's ever increasing decline to throwing itself right off a cliff.

(boooring)

I think most can agree this event was a travesty writing/plot wise, but how about all of those in regards to MHA's setting. Well that's what I'd like to discuss.

Point 1: A Goal Without a Plan is a Dream

The plan summed up is "fuck around and find out".

The heroes came in to uncharted enemy territory relying soley on brute force, broke a bunch of equipment that did God knows what (for all they knew, it could have been lethal*).

Then they proceed to shoot themselves in the foot by getting too cocky, despite knowing that Shigaraki was undergoing some sort of procedure. X-less shoots a machine that for all he knew could have been a bomb or generator. Why?, because he had a "bad feeling".

* I'm talking potential toxic fumes, gas leaks, accidental combustion, etc

Now let's focus on the evacuation effort...

Oh.

Oh FUCK!

That's it!?. A couple hundred dozen heroes and a select handful of first and third year's.

One of whom, mind you, is strictly combat oriented by the (extremely niche) capabilities of his quirk. What can Bakugo actually do here?, in the worst case scenario (being Shigaraki's awakening) he's limited to one arm and two legs (maybe his mouth?). That will further drag him down due to his quirk relying on both hands to be viable.

And we see this!

Moving along.

Another thing they didn't count on was outside help. The moment Gigantomechia arrives, it throws another curve ball. With the only reason for their survival being Dues-Ex-Machina Best "Dirty laundry" Jeanist.

They failed in the end anyways because a large portion of the LOV+ the MLA escaped.

Point 2: Organisms Used for Nefarious Means

I will keep this section brief

Nomu are in my opinion one of the biggest wastes of potential MHA produced. Going from being unnatural goliaths capable of striking dread into the hearts of even the long standing No1 Hero, to being undead cannonfodder that heroes can beat up so the audience doesn't question their ethics or (lack of) morality.

It is a sheer miracle that the Nomu didn't leave the heroes worse for wear. This is again more due to Hori relying too heavily on "convince" and not enough on in-world solutions, but I digress.

The Nomu should have been the biggest threat and again, the heroes failed to account for this. They had no way of knowing, sure.

But they should have accounted this early on. What about the civilians, evacuating them isn't enough as seen in Hosu. I mean they were walking into a lab and they had dealt with Nomu facilties before (Kamino)

Were there inpatients during the raid? and if so were they evacuated or did the Heroes say "fuck it." Given what eas allowed at Central Hospital I wouldn't put it past them.

Point 3: A civilians point of view.

I want you to imagine for a moment: You're a civilian and your whole life, you've been told how wonderful heroes are and how they'll always be there, after all they're heroes.

Sure, they may dictate what quirks are "in" and maaaybe they have a tad to much influence over your average person but they're licensed and your not.

Why question it?

Then one day everyone and everything you've known is just blown away. Heroes barge into your house and begin scrambling to get you and your family out of your house before something happens, they dont tell you what.

It is a sloppy and hurried effort, your life's belongings tucked into a small carryon if you're lucky and some plastic bags if you're not. They tell you it's probably only temporary and you'll be back to normal shortly.

Then the nearby Hospital blows up. You and your family can only watch as heroes flee from the scene, some rising into the sky, others sprinting like hell. You barely make it out alive yourselves.

Within minutes everything is gone and it's not until the fightings iver that you hear it. You hear people (you think it's your neighbors) pleading in pain underneath the rubble, a little girl can be heard sobbing somewhere in the torn landscape.

Everything's been torn upside down.

And the heroes, the poeple you've depended on your whole life...

They quit. They say they need to find another line of work.

Is that what you are to them!?. Just another line of work, a number on a tally!?.

Worse still. The NUMBER ONE HERO has just been exposed by his presumed to be dead son for being a child beating, wife trafficking, eugenist with an implication that some, if not all of his children were made against the mother's will.

The current Number 2 murdered a man for the "greater good" (what even is "good" anymore).

The people who were supposed to protect you are quitting in droves, leaving vast portions of city to fall to villains and are refusing to take any responsibility for their negligence and poor planning that made an already bad situation worse.

Oh, also the single most dangerous villain in history has broken out of Tartarus and multiple prisons have been destroyed leading to further destruction.

This is then followed by a "blackout" period. Heroes give zero insight into what they're doing or what their plan is. Mutant discrimination is running wild, support gear is flooding the streets and any protests are being silenced.

So I'll ask you again, how do you react?.

Point 4: Hubris

Over all the entire operation was a complete and utter failure. I see alot of people giving the civilians flack for their strong reactions, but honestly I can't blame 'em.

The issue is Hori paints the narrative to minimize the damage towards the heroes. (For example he characterizes one of Enji's critics as a snobby shut-in surrounded by trash bags). We only ever see the worst aspects of the civilians because Hori has consistently failed to delve into anything beyond surface level emotion/themes.

Eri is a good example, she should be a very different character. She should be allowed to show her trauma and all the "ugly" emotions and baggage that come with that, we as the audience should see the lasting impact being killed repeatedly has had on her.

For example, Eri should be very adverse to touch. A problem that started with her father and was worsened by Kai.

She should be expressing her trauma through play (think reenacting her "surgeries" on dolls)

She should be distrustful and even cold (especially after Mirio abadoned her).

Her inability to smile might stem from a lack of viewing her self as equal to others, viewing herself as more of an object than human being.

But do we ever see this. No.

Because Hori doesn't let us. He simply as a writer, cannot appropriately handle or even seem to grasp complexity and every part of the story suffers because of it.

With the civilians it's no different and as a result Hori whether intentionally or not, twists the narrative to make them seem unreasonable.

This doesn't help when from what we've seen a shocking amount of MHA's main cast are drenched in hypocrisy. The only experiences we've had with the civilian population is through Shigaraki's backstory (bad) Toga's parents (very bad).

It's just not a good look.

Conclusion:

Over-all, the Raid and by extention the war was a mess in every aspect and I personally think the story would have been better off doing something else.

The time wasted here could have gone to any number of things (how about fleshing out the non existant world building) but I honestly believe that it would have been subpar regardless, it's all to apparent Hori had no idea where he wanted the story to go. That can be seen as far back as everything post MVA.

Just, what a mess.

[sleepiexx]

The Love of my Life and my Worst Enemy

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.2

Note: Alternatively titled: Cell Mates? More Like Soul Mates. Much appreciation to @log-1n for the alternative title.

Summary: Valeria is the only person who believes that (Y/N) is innocent when she finds herself landed in a prison cell.

Warnings: mentions of torture by a partner (not Valeria), threats, reader has a toxic af ex gf, reader doesn’t speak/understand Spanish

Word count: 1401

“Let me out!” She screamed until her throat was ripped so raw that she could taste blood. “Let me the fuck out of here, I didn’t do shit!” And yet no one listened as she pushed past the pain in her throat and continued yelling.

She tried not to cry. Prison was not the place for crying she had reasoned. She tried to be like her father, exchange her sadness for anger and, in part, it worked but at her very core she was nearly gutted by sorrow and pain.

How could Katya do this to her? In the weeks that had passed the steaming pile of utter shit that Katya had wrought on her just piled up all coming to a head with her landing in a prison cell in Mexico. She didn’t speak Spanish so she had no clue what was happening but she knew that they were speaking to her as if she were Katya.

“Your screaming won’t do anything.” A smooth voice echoed from the corner of the room. (Y/N) jumped in fear, despite the bunk bed in the corner of the room, she hadn’t thought there was anyone but her in the cell. She licked her lips and furrowed her brows.

“You- you speak English?” She asked, treading carefully towards the bunk.

The figure in the corner moved from the dark at the back of the bunk to sitting on the edge of the bed, making themselves visible. It was a woman. She had dark hair cut above her shoulders and dark eyes that (Y/N) swore could see right through her soul. Tattoos lined her toned arms, completely on display with the tank top she wore, catching (Y/N)‘s wandering eyes.

Despite her slight attraction, (Y/N) stopped in her tracks, as if she was calling to a wild animal and was unsure whether or not it would attack.

“I do, and I would like some peace and fucking quiet in my prison cell.” A slight bit of bitterness twinged the woman’s tone.

(Y/N) curled in on herself, noticing how the woman had said “my” instead of “our”; she had no control in this situation and she knew that.

After two weeks of unrelenting torture, she figured Katya took pity on her and was letting her go. But it seemed she’d just been moved out of one lion’s den into another.

(Y/N) sat down in the corner opposite of the other woman, thighs tucked tightly to her chest, head buried into her knees. Without yelling she had nothing to distract herself from the storm brewing in her head.

How could Katya do this to her?

A loud sigh caught her attention, making her shoot her head up. The woman was staring at her, manspreading with her elbows resting on either leg, clasped hands in the middle.

“Alright, you’ve caught my attention, I can practically hear the little anxious thoughts rattling around in your head. Why are you here?” The woman questioned, intense eyes striking fear in the girl on the floor.

“Because I was arrested.” (Y/N) frowned, the sentence leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

“Well no shit, I meant what got you arrested. You don’t exactly look like the criminal type.” Piercing eyes scanned (Y/N)’s body.

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up at her words, the thought that maybe someone believed she was innocent.

“I- I’m not. My girlfriend… ex girlfriend, she uh.. well it’s a long story, I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”

The woman perked up and leaned in, “Well now you’ve got me intrigued. Tell me, did she convince you to do something bad?”

(Y/N) scoffed at the idea.

“No, god no.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Now there wasn’t exactly a manual on getting arrested, at least not one that (Y/N) had read, but she had seen enough tv to figure you shouldn’t ask why someone is in jail. Why this woman was interested, she had no clue.

Someone else might be angry when getting asked this but (Y/N) couldn’t muster up any rage, squeaking out a fast “Why should I tell you? I don’t even know you.”

“Me llamo Valeria. Now you know me, tell me your story, stranger.”

(Y/N) sighed, she couldn’t argue with that logic. She wondered how much she should tell.

“Well uhm… I’m (Y/N). I work as a tech analyst for the military. That’s where I met Katya.” She took a deep inhale “I fell for her pretty quickly. I hadn’t known what she was.”

Valeria almost insisted she continue the story with her eyes and body language.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “A spy. She was a spy. And not for our side. I didn’t realize that until she hit me over the head and I woke up tied to a chair.” She didn’t want to even mention her time in that awful place, the aching of her body already a constant reminder, so she just skipped over it, “and I guess when she got bored of me she just dumped me here. I don’t know what she told them but the people here keep calling me Katya and I am not Katya. Hell, I don’t even know why she would be wanted in fucking Mexico, she’s Russian.”

Valeria noticed the hole in her story but the girl before her was insanely easy to read. She could tell by the fidgeting and fleeting looks that whatever had happened was bad, especially if it was done to her by someone she loved.

One thing that had set off alarms in her head was the name. She raked her mind as to where she’d heard of a Katya. All of the sudden, it hit her.

She got up from the bed and stood over (Y/N).

“Katya Antonov?”

(Y/N) looked up slowly and nodded.

“She’s not just Russian, she’s mafia. Been giving the cartels and Mexican Special Forces the turn around for nearly a decade.“

“Oh.” (Y/N) muttered, unsure how to respond.

“You said you’re military?” Valeria asked.

(Y/N) shivered; was that a bad thing? She’d heard how prisoners hate cops but surely military is different, besides, it’s not like she was actually military, she just worked with them. Yet she figured there was no point in denying it now.

“Kind of, I work with them but I’m a technical analyst.”

“Where has your team been? How long have you been gone? Have they not come for you?”

Of course they didn’t, (Y/N) spent her weeks of torture praying to whatever higher power there may be that they would come for her and yet nothing. She shook her head.

Valeria angrily muttered in Spanish about how disgraceful they were, how disgusting it was to just leave a team mate like that. When she managed to calm herself to a level head, she turned her attention back to the girl cowering on the floor. She held her hand out to her, swiftly pulling her to her feet when she grabbed it.

“Let’s help each other, yeah?” Valeria leaned in right next to (Y/N)’s ear so she could lower her voice. “I’ve got a plan to get out of here, your skills could be very useful. I assume you are good at hacking?”

(Y/N) nodded bashfully.

“Very good, are we on the same page now?”

“I- I don’t know…”

“You could sit in here waiting on someone else to save you, or you could be a smart girl and let me save you, all you have to do is join me.”

The air was thick, (Y/N) didn’t know what to do.

“Of course, there is a third option. You could try to cross me, try to snitch to the guards in hopes they’ll let you out on good behavior but you mark my words (Y/N), you do that and you are dead.” She emphasized her words by trailing her pointer finger along (Y/N)’s throat. “But you don’t want that do you? You’re gonna join me, aren’t you.”

(Y/N) was caught in a trance by Valeria’s allure. The threat did nothing to deter her, fear coursed through her and yet so did attraction. Her eyes flitted between Valeria’s lips and eyes, and she nodded.

“Good girl.”

God, (Y/N) was fucked.

Note: I’m already working on a part 2 whether y’all like it or not.

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 23)

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: 6,000

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

Full Masterpage |

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. 

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, 

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, 

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo. 

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets. 

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much. 

He always held it down. 

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan. 

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to. 

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it. 

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons. 

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler. 

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours. 

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short. 

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family. 

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family. 

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again. 

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down. 

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized. 

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders. 

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now. 

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips. 

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead. 

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body. 

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly. 

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?” 

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior. 

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling. 

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously. 

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.” 

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin. 

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here. 

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends. 

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date. 

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did. 

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home. 

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him. 

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.” 

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine. 

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue. 

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away. 

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution. 

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate. 

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.” 

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t. 

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that. 

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that. 

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him. 

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor. 

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy. 

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon. 

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here. 

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I  was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip. 

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy. 

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious. 

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+  +  +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

 “Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies. 

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely. 

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

 +  + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past. 

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone. 

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe. 

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible. 

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible. 

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all. 

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right?  At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom. 

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters. 

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror. 

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels. 

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

 She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades. 

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight. 

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.  

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use. 

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

 She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

 At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes. 

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted.  Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.  

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad. 

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act. 

 It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her. 

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier.  The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI. 

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk. 

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing. 

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

 When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof. 

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.  

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe ,  @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 ,  @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing​ @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat​ @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite​ @alwaysclassyeagle

[stillebesat]

Christmas Eve (3/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk Taglist in Reblog To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 

He supposed it was the shock of Roman actually helping him that allowed his Ex to drag him halfway through the store before Janus remembered he didn’t have to be complacent in this. 

“Seriously.” He rasped, jerking his arm, finding it difficult to focus on anything more than the burning grip of Roman’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t have to do this.” 

It sounded so flimsy soo--so trite. So insincere. Even to his own ears. Roman had to be dissecting his words and tone even now, searching for the trick--the manipulation he had used as easily as a fish breathed water all throughout his--well his entire life, even if Roman had only experienced it first hand for a couple of years during college. 

With that sort of bad history between them...of all the possibilities that had flashed through his mind when he and Roman had made eye contact...having him actually help them had never--well it had--briefly. Very very briefly. Crossed his mind. But it had been a fool’s hope. Not when their relationship had ended more explosively than the grand finale of a firework show.

“I--” He swallowed trying again as he adjusted Pattey’s weight on his hip. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured them meeting again. He wasn’t ready for this. “We really can just leave. He’ll understand.” His son knew all too well about his history with the Prince even if it was just through bedtime stories. “You don’t have to--”

“Shut up, Dragon Witch.” Roman growled, tugging him around a corner. “I don’t want to either. But I’m not heartless.” 

“You’re not.” He agreed. Roman was anything but that. He was good. He’d been the best thing that had happened to him before Patton came into his life, and Janus had taken advantage of that in the worst ways possible, using him and then tossing him away like so much trash without realizing what a treasure Roman actually was. “But you don’t have to force yourself on my--” Janus cut off as a small hand covered his mouth, his son’s bright eyes filled with excitement. 

“Shh, Daddy.” He patted his lips. “You told me if a Prince offers to help you, you let him help! You don’t say no.”

Yes. But he hadn’t meant that to apply to himself! What he’d done--it could be considered unforgivable. No one should be treated how he’d treated Roman--or well, any of his former relationships. It had taken Patton’s birth to get him to...stop. To want to change. To be better. 

Roman had the gall to smirk at him as he stopped in front of a display of cages, letting go of Janus’s wrist so he could fish out a set of keys from his pocket. “Correct, little man. It’s a Prince’s duty to help all those he encounters in distress….even if the fair damsel turns out to be a---.”

“Aaraog!” Patton piped up.

Roman froze, looking nonplussed at the nonsequir. “Aaraog?” 

“You can’t trust them. They’re Evil.” Patton said solemnly before bouncing in Janus’s arms as he stared eagerly into the cages. “Daddy says that even though the Dragon Witch is a jerk, he still occasionally helps the Prince! And so they can’t be meanies to each other all the time like Aaraog sooo if the Prince can help the Dragon Witch then you, Prince--” 

“Roman.” Janus said softly, the name feeling like he was tasting the forbidden fruit as it rolled off his tongue. He looked away as his Ex shot him a dark look. Yah...he didn’t think they were on first name terms anymore, hence why he only ever called the Prince...well Prince. But Pattey had been upset that the Dragon Witch always fought with the Prince and always lost...so he’d told a slightly different story from the usual, using a giant spider as the villain instead. It’d been... a kind of self wish of his. Where he hoped things would eventually...maybe...work out.

“Prince Roman! And my Daddy can be friends today too as you help!”

Ha. That would be the day. He wasn’t a fool enough to believe them rekindling any sort of...friendship...would ever actually happen. Even if he wanted a redo...he was pretty sure he’d burned that bridge and then buried the ashes in a pit a hundred feet deep back in college.

“I--I--don’t think he’s...uh...I’m sure the Dragon Witch can be...nice.” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

And Janus was a platypus. “Liar.” He mumbled. Roman had only ever known his manipulative nice. Not his genuine niceness. How could he? Janus had only learned how to be so after Patton had said his first word. Years after everything had...ended between them. 

“You’re one to talk.” Roman hissed. 

“Yes and?” 

Pattey looked between the two of them, before deciding that comforting his Dad was needed. His little hands squished Janus’s cheeks. “But Daddy isn’t a true Dragon Witch!” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact before he flashed his hundred watt smile, succeeding in melting Janus’s heart once again. “He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world! Even if he doesn’t think so.” 

Janus flushed. “Liar.” He repeated. He was sure there were plenty of other Dads who were far better than he could ever be.

“Truther!” Patton grinned. “The best best best BEST Daddy!!” 

He shook his head as Roman scoffed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as a tomato--this awkward encounter was only going to get much worse if he didn’t hurry this up. Janus quickly set his son down, pushing him towards the cage his Ex had unlocked. 

“Go pick one you like.” He encouraged, staying crouched to discourage Roman from talking to him even if it did mean his Ex would be hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. It wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully keep himself from saying something he would regret and get them kicked out before he could buy a Frogmin for his son.

After all, Roman had to only be helping him on Patton’s behalf. If his kid hadn’t been here he was sure his Ex would have taken one look at him and thrown him right back out, no questions asked. So the sooner they could get out of here the sooner they both could forget this whole encounter. 

Not that Janus would be able to forget. Not when Pattey usually demanded a Prince story for bedtime. 

“Oh!!!” Patton pressed his face against the glass where little multi-colored frog-like humans crouched among the branches inside the cage. “Look at them, Daddy!!! LOOK! FROGMINS!! They’re here! AWWWWWW. Look at their cute little spots!!”

Janus let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Finally. After fifteen stores he could finally make good on his promise to his son.

“Careful. You don’t want to scare them.” Roman said, also kneeling down, keeping Pattey between them as he pointed to the half dozen Frogmins inside. “While they have frog characteristics, it’s easier to think of them as mini people. And some of them can get really scared when a giant face suddenly appears in front of them.”

His son’s eyes went wide. “Noooo. I don’t wanna scare them!” Pattey leaned back, wrapping his arms around himself as he twisted back and forth. “They’re just sooo cool! And so Princely! Cus if you kiss one they can turn large and save the day! Like the stories! But I want mine to remain small, so I’ll be very careful in my kisses. And they can hop and climb walls like--” Patton made a face and Janus had to bite back a smile at his son’s reluctance to say Spiderman. “Like superheros!! And they eat bugs! Like...like!!!....like….spiders.” He shivered. “I don’t like them.” 

Roman tilted his head, amber eyes flashing with understanding. “So you’re looking for a Frogmin to protect you from spiders?” 

Pattey nodded hard enough he looked like a bobble head. “He’ll keep me safe while I sleep!”

Roman chuckled. “A good reason to get a Frogmin. Though not all of them like to eat spiders. Just like some little boys don’t like to eat their vegetables.”

His son grimaced. “But carrots are icky!!”

“And some Frogmins think spiders are icky too.” He said gently, opening a small hatch in the side of the cage where three of the Frogmins had already gathered. “While you can just pick one that you like the look of...you could also come over here and hold out your hands--don’t reach in, but hold out your hands and ask them if any of them would like to come live with you and eat spiders...or well, like to have them as a treat as I’m sure you don’t want to feed them dried ones.” He glanced over to Janus as he spoke.

Ha. No. While he did have some dried spiders waiting at home, there was no way he’d pull out any of the creatures...even dead ones...where his son could see. One meltdown at the first pet store had been enough to convince him why having his Lilypatton see spiders--dead or alive--was a bad idea. 

Janus let out a slow breath as Pattey eagerly moved closer, his small hands held out to the opening. 

“Do you guys like to eat spiders?” He whisper-shouted to the group. “If you do, we have plenty of them at home and I really really REALLY want you to eat ALL of them. Please? Pleeeease.”

And now Roman was going to think they lived in a haunted house or something. Really, it was more of an issue of all the spiders in their backyard instead of inside. 

Janus shook his head, holding up a hand. “I have a variety of other dried insects to choose from at home if the one Pattey picks doesn’t like spiders.” He said, glancing at his Ex before turning his attention back to the cage, watching as more Frogmins crept out of the leaves towards his son. 

Sure, he knew that Pattey wanted the Frogmin mostly for their ability to eat spiders--and their connection to Princes--but he wasn’t a fool to expect that to be the only food source.

Though knowing his luck, whichever one his son picked would be extremely picky and want to eat only the most expensive of the bugs. 

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You already have everything else as well? The cage?” 

Janus rolled his eyes. Nooo he’d just spent months preparing and all day searching for a Frogmin and totally forgot about getting the creature a home to live in. “Yes.”

Roman pursed his lips, an obvious indication that he didn’t like the answer and stood, tilting his head down the aisle to where a variety of cages sat on the shelves. “Show me.”

To Be Continued. Part 4

[watchinglikeafangirl]

People being trapped in a circle

This is more about psychological stuff but I got inspired by this post and I thought I could dig a little bit deeper into the matter of why some characters have our pity no matter how they behave themselves.

Human beings love rules and habits. It's actually quite fun to observe people and discover their tics, their weirdness. Because everybody is weird and is ashamed for certain habits or behavior in situations.

Habits are by definition "a settled or regular tendency or practice" and new ones are established pretty slowly in life. They are hard to change and forget because the everyday-life doesn't feel the same without them. Establishing a new habit takes three months until you don't have to force yourself any more. That's why it's so hard to change oneself's style, language or lifestyle in general.

Okay, so, here comes the balancing act to TV shows. Every show (or movie) has an antagonist and you know it's a good storywriting when you're having a hard time hating them completely. They still show some humanity they have left deep inside and we mostly sympathize with them because they seem lost, unloved and trapped. Trapped where? Well, the circle repeating itself endlessly. A habit.

Everybody has a habit they can't get rid of, so everybody can relate to the antagonist in that matter. It's hard to change a habit or lose it and mostly, it doesn't work very well.

The circle out of a habit one can have is mostly the main reason for the antagonist to feel so pathetic. They can't stop but don't feel good about it.

I have two examples and of course, I'm talking about BLs because it's the genre I am consuming the most right now. The two most recent ones I can use as an example are "Lovely Writer" and "Fish Upon The Sky". I know, Pi is not the antagonist of the show but wait, it will make sense when I get to this point.

Let's start with "Lovely Writer". Here, Aoey is the antagonist and probably the most devided character I've seen in a long time. He seems good from afar but underneath this mask, he's a spoiled person and the worst, but the most pityful as well. He is the perfect example of someone being trapped in this circle of repetitiveness. His next move always means something bad and the drama always waits around the corner. It's who he is. It's his habit. But where does this come from?

Well, we've seen that Aoey's family doesn't support nor care about him. His father makes him feel unworthy of everything and that he won't survive on his own for long. His father is also the reason, why Aoey has a trauma because something happened to his ex-boyfriend because of him. So, Aoey is lost because he got kicked out. Aoey is hurt because of his ex-boyfriend. Aoey feels worthless because he feels like nobody loves him. Aoey feels pathetic because he pushes people away. He is full of desperation to find something, someone he can hold onto. He is ready to do everything in order to get that. That's why he runs after Gene who didn't make him feel bad about himself for a second. It meant relief for this second. It's the redemption and acceptance Aoey always wanted and craves for. But he is never the center of attention, not even close to it. Even playing the main lead in a TV show didn't help him to feel more appreciated either.

So, the only way to make people see him and hopefully notice how lost he is, is seeking their attention. He climbs on the highest mountain, crosses borders and screams at the world, only to be heard for at least a second. This is more than just desperation. This is helplessness.

Seeking attention is all Aoey does and he does it in the ugliest way possible because then, the attention will be bigger. It's his habit. He does bad things because people will then be forced to talk to him. A habit only establishes itself in ones life when you get something good in return. It might not look good for others. It might not be received out of good actions. But at least, you'll feel better than you did before. So, it's Aoey's habit to blow things up in oder to be noticed because he gets a good feeling in return.

This explains why he cries very much even when he's alone. Because he knows exactly that he's doing something wrong and he feels extremely guilty for it, but despite of this guilt, he can't help it. This habit is definetly a toxic one and causes him to feel even worse ever single time. The loneliness gets worse. The feeling of being pathetic gets worse. He's trapped in this circle and is drowning. But he's willing to pay this price because he'll feel good for a single moment. It's like a drug for him. That's why this habit will be extremely hard to let go. He even says in episode 9 that he's not ready to do so when he rejects Mhok who is really worried about him and sees Aoey drowning in his self-hatred.

This toxic habit he has lost himself in, is the reason why we sympathize with him. He is his own victim. It's what we believe makes him human because things are not black and white. You can see that he's not entirely bad but not entirely good either. It's an interesting storywriting for the antagonist to make him look like a human being. Habits make people unique and we sympathize with the idea of someone struggling to overcome one.

This was longer than I expected, but let me continue with my second example: Pi. The thing with Pi is that he's the main lead and he's not shown as the antagonist but he's also trapped in his circle. But when Pi is not the antagonist, then who is? There is no other option. So, I believe, Pi is the protagonist and antagonist combined because he is his own enemy.

When we get introduced to Pi, we know immediately that he finds himself ugly. He means, he doesn't like his looks but he obviously feels ugly inside... but more to that later. He feels like a weirdo. He feels pathetic. All his friends turned out to be not loyal at all, so he became a loner.

Because of the people who were close to him and turned their back on him, Pi hides. Like I mentioned here, he is very hysterical. He is loud. He snaps. His only friend is on Facebook (Or Twitter? Or Line? I don't really know). It's his habit to hide his true self because he is scared. Again, habits only exist because you feel something good in return. Pi feels better when he is not his true self. The change of his look is just the visible outcome of this habit. And it works because people seem to like him more than before. So, this is just a verification for what he always thought about himself: that he is weird and ugly. He choses to be weird and handsome instead because this change will at least cover up his flaws from the outside.

But this habit leads him to turn Mhok's friend request down everytime Mhok asks him and lets him screw up every private moment he and Nan have. He doesn't let people in and destroys situations by himself, to later blame it on the others. He is not even aware of his habit. He is too selfish to see it.

Pi dislikes himself so much and feels ungly as a person that he has become his own enemy.

Mhok sees that. He sees Pi's true self behind the mask and insists on wanting to be his friend. He keeps confessing to Pi, because to overcome a habit, you actually have to implement the thought of it in your hand. Only when your mind tells you, you should get rid of it, you have the self-devotion to do so. Pi will slowly see that he has to blame himself for screwing things up and that hiding himself doesn't necessarily mean a better life. He has to stop being his own antagonist. This is something the preview for episode 6 addresses. Pi supposedly screws up, scares Nan away and then blames himself for it. Maybe this is his awakening...

Pi is the character I dislike the most but he has depth we will get to explore. He only is such a dislikable character because he doesn't like himself but you can see this fassade fading slowly and it's again someone struggling to let go of a habit which is again something, everybody can relate to - in this context, probably more than I can count.

So, what is my point here? Habits are hard to overcome and we like antagonists because they are mostly trapped in a circle. The good feeling they receive consumes them so much that they can't let go of it even though they will feel bad afterwards. It's the price they are willing to pay. Mostly, they are self-centered characters because they don't care what they do to the others during the process. They long for something that will only make themselves happier with no sense of solidarity.

I didn't expect this to be that long...but what can I do when my brain doesn't let me sleep?

[nona-gay-simus-main]

Top 10 Worst Romance Tropes - Part 1

It’s Valentine’s Day and that means it’s time to talk about romance. Specifically, shitty romances. Woo!

Disclaimer: This list is just my personal preference, and I don’t want to fight with anyone about it. You do you, boo. 

I’ve also tried to avoid things that have been talked to death like romanticizing abuse or love triangles because I want to keep things original. There’s also definitely going to be a part two to this post since I came up with so many terrible tropes.

And third, but not last: this list specifically pertains to the genre Romance (whether paranormal, fantasy, etc. the point is that the romance is the main plot or at least half the plot). There will be a separate list for romantic subplots in other genres.

1. The Misunderstanding

If the entire plot of the novel can be solved by the characters having ONE (1) conversation, I’m just not interested.

Chances are these people should not be together anyway, since apparently, they can’t even communicate properly. You can’t both/all be communication bottoms. One of you needs to suck it up and be the top.

I’ve seen people argue that this actually a good trope because it’s “realistic”, but to me, the whole point of romance is that it’s supposed to be escapist. 

Otherwise, we’d all be reading about mediocre people going on mediocre dates and being boringly happy together - that’s realistic too. Do you want to read a book about it? I sure don’t!

2. First Love is The Best Love

This is more applicable to YA than any other genre, but I’m so tired of stories that make your first love be your one and only true love. I’m not saying it never happens, but it certainly doesn’t happen as much as the media says it does.

I feel like it’s both disingenuous, and possibly even dangerous, to raise such a cult around first love. Your first love is not going to be your one and only chance at love and that’s probably for the best. It’s likely, that along the way you’ll find someone who’s an even better fit for you and by then you’ll be more mature and better at handling relationships.

I just wish there were more stories that didn’t romanticize the magic of first love, as much as the showed how experience and knowledge can often be much healthier in the long run.

3. Fighting means Flirting

Just to be clear, I’m not talking about enemies-to-lovers or disdain-to-love, where the characters start out fighting and eventually grow to have a much healthier dynamic; nor am I talking about affectionate fighting, where they insult each other, but they don’t actually mean it.

I’m talking about cases where the love interests are actually fighting, but the author will have one of the side characters say something that implies that actually, they are flirting. Fuck right off!

I’m not one of those people who think that if the characters have one fight, that’s an instant sign of a toxic and unhealthy relationship. It’s fine if your characters fight sometimes. It’s also fine if they flirt sometimes. Just don’t try to tell me those two things are one and the same. It’s not cool to promote the adult version of the message that ‘boys pull on girl’s pigtails because they “like” them’. 

If your characters are older than fourteen, I’m going to be expecting them to act accordingly.

4. Virginity Naïveté

This is a trope I see a lot in cis-hetero romance and I’m so repulsed by it.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being sexually inexperienced, or writing about someone who is sexually inexperienced, but these characters are rarely just inexperienced. They are also so ignorant about sex, to the point of making me question whether they are emotionally mature enough to be having it at all. And not only that, but they are often paired up with the biggest sexpot character and it turns into this icky power imbalance, where the more experienced person uses their sexual experience to manipulate their partner.

It’s not realistic, and it’s gross, stop perpetuating the social construct of virginity. Just let women (and sometimes pretty feminine gay men, but that’s a whole ‘nother can of worms) have healthy sex lives. And if they are inexperienced, at least let them have a healthy attitude towards sex and sex-havers. And pair them up with someone who, if not at the same experience level as them, is at least at the same level emotional maturity.

5. Questionable Consent

Nothing puts me off a story faster, than if I have to wonder if the what happened was fully consensual. 

I don’t know how to say this, but please stop having your big male characters groping strange women (or sometimes strange smaller man, but again - ‘nother can of worms) or even women (men) they know, who have not expressed any romantic interest in them; pressing them against walls/doors; giving them lovebites (yes, something I literally read once - though admittedly, it was in a fanfic) and any number of inappropriate physical behaviors without explicit consent.

Surprise kisses are fine if the other person responds, or if you stop when they don’t - but anything other than that is weird, uncomfortable, and it makes me feel like this character doesn’t understand boundaries. And frankly, I don’t want to root for someone who in any other circumstances would be a rapist. 

6. Insta Love

I’ve recently been exposed as a slow burn hoe, and that’s true enough, but even if you like faster-moving romances, what’s so compelling about Insta Love?

The whole point of romance is to see the development of the relationship (except for the rare cases the partners are already together at the start, or if it’s a second-chance romance) and see them falling for each other. 

If they are already in love by the second time they meet, all that potential and stakes are lost.. And half the time, you can’t even figure out why they are in love, to begin with, aside from the fact of being two people of similar ages, attractiveness levels, and the right sexuality. It’s boring and lazy, do better.

8. Teacher/Student:

This is probably because I work as a teacher, but no power dynamic will skeeve me out more than the teacher/student one.

It’s particularly awful if it’s a high school student / high school teacher, for a multitude of reasons I hope I don’t have to explain, but even if it’s college it’s still pretty gross. 18-19-year-olds or even 21yos are just not mature enough to handle a relationship with their professor, who is a minimum of 35 btw, (unless they are some super-genius), and holds their future in their hands.

Maybe grad school would be okay if I’m sure it’s a one-off and that professor doesn’t make a habit of dating their students. Really, the most acceptable versions of this, are either grad-school student/professor, but the student is not that professor’s class, or a college student having a one-sided crush on their professor, and then they meet on equal terms, years after. 

9. All in the family!

I’m not talking about actual incest, which should obvious - but specifically about dating your partner or ex’s sibling/parent/uncle/aunt/first cousin. 

I mean, if it’s a one-night-stand, fine, everyone makes mistakes, but a prolonged relationship, that I’m supposed to root for? Yikes.

Your ex will always be there. At your wedding. At your anniversary parties. Every holiday from now on. And how awkward are family get-togethers going to be when everyone knows where your genitals have been, from now until the end of time. And especially currently, with the internet and how everything is forever? Once your kids /your ex’s kids grow up? They’ll know too! That’s gotta be uncomfy.

10. Cheating

Look, if the romance starts with cheating... well, first of all, I’m already rooting against this couple, because they are assholes and I prefer my romances asshole-free (when it comes to the main characters at least). 

Not only is cheating such a gross and awful thing to do to someone but frankly, I don’t think any relationship that starts with cheating can last. I don’t think you can really trust a cheater - not just to cheat again, but really for anything. They already broke their ex’s trust, who says they won’t do it to you too?

Now, I will say there are some borderline situations that I find more acceptable, where your mileage would vary, if things with the third person beyond purpose-less flirting (aka flirting for the sake if a confidence boost, rather than with the intention of starting something - some people are just naturally flirty) and/or at any point the people involved know that what they’re doing is wrong, but they keep doing it anyway - I’m out.

Some authors will try and justify the cheating MC, by having their partner cheat too, but I’m sorry - two wrongs don’t make a right. That just means everyone is an asshole, and I’m not rooting for any of them to be happy.

[toongrrl-blog]

Pink Power Rankings (Pt. 1)

Hi I am here to look at famous pink outfits in film and TV history and figure out: is pink a power color for this character? I choose to leave out obvious ones like Pink Power Ranger because, duh it’s in her name and this is gonna be a long list. Also avoiding real-life figures and onscreen depictions of real life figures because keeping it short (and I don’t have the time)

Pictured above are the bridesmaids at First Daughter Luci Baines Johnson’s wedding in the 1960s. 

Mimi Tachikawa

She is the most obvious pick from Digimon and the girl most decked out in pink. To paraphrase this video from The Take: there was once a show about a strange world beyond our own, somehow a group of preteens were pulled into this world not of their accord, including a young 10 year old girl. Along with her friends they were exposed to the elements and fought monsters out to harm them, she was sexually harassed by two clearly adult digimon, uncomfortable with the elements, often had to put up with toxic masculine BS, and was often snarked at by the story and even some of her own friends for being so girly and into pink. Of course some audiences and the story were overcome with sympathy with this girl pulled away from a familiar world...

Just kidding! They weren’t and some audiences even gave her a lot of shit and this has only been recently examined. For a while Mimi Tachikawa had a problem that seemed to be well known by a lot of female characters, like Carmella Soprano, Betty and Megan Draper, Margaret Sterling, and yes Skyler White. Put a flawed, complicated woman character alongside more charismatic (and male) characters and she will be disliked (despite the audience being more likely to be she than the menfolk held up as icons). 

This is sad because looking back, Mimi was truly a badass all along: she sticks up for herself, speaks up for herself, she is unapologetic about her love of pink and girly things, she is quick to tell guys when they are getting in her space, she’s honest, she lets Tanemon go on and fight with only a sincere question if she really is going to while the others hold their Digimon down, she stands up against the Numemon who were harassing her and her friends, and she was funny as hell. Sadly it took a long while for fans to grow up but many of us, especially girls, reclaimed her as our own. It also helped that Mimi came before girly icons like Elle Woods, Leslie Knope, and Joan Holloway and also before the boom in Gen X and Millennial women contributing to comedy and starting their own stand-up specials and movies and TV.

Power Ranking: 10, all because she held her own, no matter the haters and was glad to see us no matter how odd. 

Karen Wheeler

Another complicated lady, this time older and from the 1980s. This is Karen Wheeler of Hawkins, Indiana whose children are off on their own adventure. She is trying to tap into her sexual power here. It’s dicey because the man in question is a young man and she is a unhappily married affluent housewife in the suburbs; she agrees to meet him at the motel for “private swimming lessons” and does herself up in a way inappropriate for swimming lessons (in Scarlet Letter Red to boot!), only to be stopped by the sight of her lazy husband sleeping on the Laz-E-Boy with their youngest child Holly on his chest. This season sees Karen open up to her two older children over the patriarchy and saying goodbye to a best friend and girlfriend after confessing his love for her.

Power Ranking: 6, because her sexual power was on shaky ground and only based on her looks and attention from a man but she shows some character development that season. 

Nancy Wheeler

This look was a game changer, but Nancy is no stranger to pink and preppiness. Here she is wearing an outfit that recalls the postwar “Boyfriend Shirt” from Brooks Brothers for the female collegiate set and it’s updated with long loose but pinned hair and designer (or mock) jeans. In this outfit she goes monster hunting with her younger brother Mike’s best friend’s older brother and Nancy’s classmate, Jonathon Byers and squares off with slut-shaming police officers and a mother who chastises her for lying about her whereabouts and losing her virginity while Nancy’s best friend Barb Holland is missing and she also tells off boyfriend Steve for trying to cover his ass by not participating in the police investigation. This is the look (which can easily double as office wear) when you want to go straight from school where you have an impeccable GPA to monster hunting in your neck of the woods to find the whereabouts of your best friend and for fighting the patriarchy. 

Power Ranking: 8, this is a girl on the move as we can see with her rolled up sleeves. 

Eleven

The Iconic Look, the look where she made a boy wet his pants, found two missing kids, broke a bully’s arm. The Polly Flinders dress would alter the way we see girls in dainty pastel pink dresses. 

Power Ranking: 10, can you do all that without touching someone?

Barb Holland

The most tragic look for this was the sweater that Barbara Holland (1967-1983) wore when she was taken by the Demogorgan and killed. This was the look where she was the recipient of a wet willie from a boy who looked down on her and her best friend who was dating his popular friend, the look where she accompanied her best friend reluctantly to the popular boy’s party, and where her friend turned her back on her concerns. This is the look of a passive and traditional (to her detriment) femininity. She did gain a huge following who cried foul over her fate. 

Power Ranking: 4, points up for the fandom and devotion but she wasn’t empowered. 

Erica Sinclair

That was depressing, let’s go to the girl who embodies America: Hawkins resident wise-ass, the girl who kept her observations and words as tight as her corn rows, and her planning as precise as her perfectly well done baby hairs (Black readers, feel free to correct me as I document her fabulousness), My Little Pony nerd and Economics wonk, and American Heroine. Erica sassed her way into Stranger Things with a raised eyebrow and a lusciously girly girl wardrobe that stands out and fits in with her Midwestern environment. She’s no stranger to pink and she commands attention and the best service at Scoops Ahoy and manages to get several ice cream dishes for free (the most elaborate ones) before getting in on finding the secret Soviet military base. Girlfriend manages to deal with teenage shenanigans, assassins, creatures from another world, near-death experiences, almost being captured by foreign enemies and the most awkward sing-a-long ever. She doesn’t seem to have lost her child-appropriate enthusiasm for games even when telling off old balding men for getting her age right.

Power Ranking: 10, you can’t spell America without Erica

Joan Holloway

Pink is an appropriate color for the resident femme intellectual of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, it shows that Joan is willing to defy “the rules” of fashion for redheads (she also wears red) and it ties into her 1950s persona of the bombshell who is trying to get married to a man who’d move her out to the upper-middle class suburbs and she wouldn’t have to work. That was Joan at the beginning: over time she started to own her natural independent streak and her willingness to buck expectations of her based on her gender and looks but also deals with the same men who ogle her, disrespecting her intellect, her hard work ethic, and even her body (fuck you Greg Harris). In this fuchsia number (still in the pink family), she sets up a luncheon with a colleague (Peggy Olson) where she pitches the idea of them setting up a production company with their names, while Peggy didn’t take, Joan starts her own “Holloway & Harris” with her babysitter and mother. Sealing her end as a strong, productive, independent woman who learned to own herself as she was. 

Power Ranking: 10, men may like scarves but women like not being tethered to men. 

Betty Draper Francis

Meet Elizabeth Hofstadt Francis and her ex-husband Don Draper (actually Dick Whitman), for about 10 years of marriage, they have enjoyed a union where they looked like a couple right out of a magazine, he being a square jawed handsome self-made man with an athletic build who often is compared to old-school movie stars like Tyrone Power or Clark Gable or Cary Grant and she, a beautiful model from a wealthy family in the Main Line area of Philadelphia who studied anthropology at Bryn Mawr and speaks fluent Italian and is often compared to Grace Kelly (and other Hitchcock Blondes). But the interior of their perfect colonial in the suburbs hid an ugly reality where she suffered from ennui and was a brat to her kids while he gaslighted and cheated on her with other women, more modern women, like she wasn’t enough. Eventually she found out his true identity and floored that she had been living a lie and gave up her last name for an imposter, she divorced him and married a man she met at her husband’s work function. 

About three years later, Don is happily married with a younger and much more modern woman (Megan Draper) while Betty is married to a man who loves and accepts her even at her worst but to her chagrin has put on a lot of weight (a blow to a former model who grew up being raised that weight gain or being fat was the worst thing a woman could be) and she hasn’t dealt with her unhappiness in a productive manner. 

For a while well into 1968, she accepted the extra pounds (although looking like she lost some) and coming middle-age and even dyed her hair black, until her new husband tells her he plans to run for office and as he was excitedly recounting what is to be done, says “Everyone will see you” not knowing that his young, vain wife would read this scenario differently and after assessing her new look to an old evening gown of her’s, she sped up her weight loss and returned to her slim and blonde look that turned heads. Soon she takes a drive to her son’s summer camp and runs into her ex-husband and they feel the old spark and sleep together; it is there she tells him that he as a lover is different than him as a husband and admits about the young wife she looked down on, “That Poor Girl, she doesn’t know that loving you is the worst thing to get to you”. Next morning she has breakfast with her new husband, who is none the wiser, while Don heads back to the city. But is Betty really happy?

Power Ranking: 7, not satisfied but has received some closure about her relationship with her ex-husband. 

Sally Draper

This is Sally in her birthday party dress. On that day her father built her a pastel colored playhouse, Mother prepared treats for the adults and kids for her birthday party, she and her friends played out their parents’ (admittedly shitty) marriages at the playhouse, her father goes out to get her birthday cake from the bakery and returns only with a golden retriever named Polly, while her unhappy mother fumes about her husband doing something shitty and humiliating and not being allowed to ream him out because he brought a dog and that makes him the good guy. 

Power Ranking: 5, she gets a dog but is still young and dependent on her messy parents. 

Rachel Menken

Meet Rachel Menken Katz, running into her ex Don Draper while he is out with his latest mistress and she with her husband Tilden Katz. She would end this series as dying from cancer after having two young children and running her father’s department store and instead of flowers, requesting that donations be made for a Jewish hospital in the Jell-O Belt. In 1960 she fell in love with an ad man who proved to have been miserable and having lost his mother during his birth, as she did, she also competed in what was called “a man’s world” at a time when women were relegated to assistant roles at best and she split from him when he wants to run away with her, mostly because he wants to run away from his issues and not because of his feelings for her. As her sister Barbara said, “she had everything”.

Power Ranking: 8, she ends up dying young but she manages to “have it all”. 

Megan Draper

Meet Megan Calvet, later to become Megan Draper. How does she become the next Mrs. Draper? At this timeline, Don Draper is dealing with life after divorcing Betty Draper (now Francis) and is trying (and failing) to quit alcohol and trying to date the intelligent, warm, no-nonsense, and close-to-his-age Dr. Faye Miller. But that night Megan, who noticed she caught her boss’s eye, decides to make the moves and in a uncharacteristically demure (many fans thought she looked frumpy here) but at worst basic outfit, she sleeps with him. This is the outfit for a quickie that later won his heart and has him pop the question and she becomes part of Creative at their work. But is this really for the best?

Power Ranking: 7, she married Don Draper but then again she married Don Draper. 

Peggy Olson

Meet Peggy Olson, who officially walked away from the things holding her back from feeling at ease with herself and her choices. After a whole season where the priest impressed by her skills has learned that Peggy had a child out of wedlock and put him up for adoption and starts pressuring her to admit her “sin” while Peggy would rather move on with her life, she tells him they don’t see eye to eye and walks away from the Catholic Church and while the Cuban Missile Crisis is going on, she lays down in her bed with the pink comforter and pillows with her pink floral nightgown, she lays herself down to sleep and prays with a contented look on her face.

Power Ranking: 9, she’s not fully absolved of the issues plaguing her but refusing to wear a hairshirt and beat herself up? Awesome. 

Dawn Chambers

Meet Dawn Chambers, from 1966-1968, she was the only black person (let alone black secretary) at the uber-white Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (pun intended for the decor) and like many minorities in positions occupied by less marginalized people, Dawn had to keep her head low and not stand out (despite some co-workers considering her as remarkable as a sore thumb). But then in 1968, she made the mistake of punching in for a co-worker and they get caught by Joan Holloway (and it’s so horrid, thank God Don Draper intervened on Dawn’s behalf and Pete reminds them of how the ad agencies are being looked at for their minority quotas). This was also the season where Dawn took to wearing blazers over her blouses and skirts or dresses and here Dawn is wearing a conservative grey blazer over a pink shirt with ruffles down the front and a red plaid skirt when her work life alters for the...better? It is there that Joan sternly gives her the promotion of keeper of the keys, title not pay, and Dawn tells her that she decided she doesn’t care whether other people in the office hate her but she doesn’t want to disappoint Joan, who withholds any warmth or approval. The next season we see Dawn stand up to a entitled and mediocre white man (Lou Avery) and first she is moved to reception and then she takes over Joan’s post as Office Manager (With her own office! And the salary!) while Joan goes upstairs to her own office in Accounts. 

Power Ranking: 10, this is a big fucking deal for a Black Woman in a mostly-White corporate setting during the 1960s. 

Trudy Campbell

1970, Trudy Vogel Campbell has remarried her estranged husband Pete and they are moving out to Wichita, Kansas with their young daughter Tammy where he will work a plush job for Lear Jet (and they are being flown out by them!). 

For the past ten years, Trudy and Pete have had a difficult marriage where he was dissatisfied with the choices he made and that he really didn’t want to marry her, and Trudy had to deal with being a woman with fertility issues at a time when motherhood was seen as a primary goal for women and women who didn’t have kids or chose not to were seen as weird at best. They had to deal with pressure from her father to adopt, his parents snotty issues, she had to deal with her husband’s attitude, his envy of others, and his cheating. But Trudy laid her boundaries and was able to stand up to her husband, without losing her gracious manner and her zest for society. She tried to be a supportive wife and she found some common ground with him, when it comes to common decency and politics, and they make an amazing pair on the dance floor. 

Then came the end after their divorce: they behave more amicably, he’s more involved with their young daughter, he fights for Trudy, and he gives an amazing pitch for her to come back. She takes him back but lets him know that she isn’t the same girl he married a decade before and she looks at things for how they are. 

Plus she is gonna rule Wichita!

Power Ranking: 8, she accepts there will be compromises but states her boundaries and has them met and will be a society wife. 

Elle Woods

Who shows up in court in LA hot sandals, a pink tote bag for her canine companion Bruiser, long glossy hair, and a curve-hugging but professional power dress in shocking pink? Elle Woods. After trying hard to be taken seriously by her fuckboi ex Warner and her snotty, neutral toned Harvard classmates and learning that her Professor got her in an internship for a important lawcase (where they defend her fellow Sorority Sister) just for her looks, she leans into both her natural intelligence, expertise, and love of pink and all things girly to defend her friend and solve the case. 

Also can we talk about how both Legally Blonde and Bridget Jones’s Diary are both movies where the attractive blonde protagonist is humiliated by showing up for a costume party in a Playboy Bunny costume under false pretenses and she deals with sexual harassment and being underestimated regarding her intellect? But LB ages better because it kinda pokes fun at the beauty myth more and is more inter-sectional and Elle finds supportive women to add to her posse of supportive sisters and she supports other women in turn.

Power Ranking: 10, Sisterhood and owning your personality quirks and interests and boldly defending others is always a win. Case Dismissed. 

Lorelei Lee

The ultimate Pink Power icon and the one who set the path for all femme-y and cute loving blonde protagonists with wit and ambition. This is the song for a woman who sings about how transactional heteronormative relationships in the mid-century were and how the performative actions of men in heterosexual relationships don’t do much to improve women’s lives, like paying the rent and that they would use women for their own uses and could be shallow enough to dump women if they lost their beauty and/or got older, so for insurance make sure you get money or rather things that can be hocked and worn with pride, like diamonds. Tom & Lorenzo covered this in their One Iconic Look series and this sequenced has been spoofed several times in Hey Arnold!, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend, Birds of Prey, and most famously by Madonna, and it is the look for women who not only feel good about their curves but also want to show them off.  As T&Lo said about the ditzy Lorelai and her savvier friend Dorothy Malone (Jane Russell):

These women were all about power, control, and looking out for each other. Men were side stories or play things.

And in the repressive Fifties it was outrageously pink and smelt of female sexual power (pink pussies). 

Power Ranking: 11, hawwwwwwww that’s what you get for having an iconic and referenced look!

Marge Simpson

The most nostalgically remembered outfit in cartoons and the most written about in think pieces and articles by Millennial women who grew up watching The Simpsons and the rest of what the Animation Renaissance had to offer. In “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield”, the family goes out to the outlet mall in Ogdenville where Marge and Lisa happen upon a beautiful pink Chanel suit that even left my cartoon-apathetic mother enthusiastic and Marge is soon seen by a old high school friend who mistakes her for being wealthy and Marge goes along with the ruse and is invited to Country Club activities with the ladies where she shows up in several talented alterations of her suit (until getting destroyed by Santa’s Little Helper, RIP Iconic suit), she also gives her family a hard time about how they don’t fit into that Country Club Scene and then when forced to see how she hurt them (and even Baby Maggie), turns around and tells them she loves Homer’s sense of humor, Lisa’s compassion and outspoken human rights politics, and just loves Bart (even if she can’t figure what she likes about him). 

This also happens to be another instance where Marge sacrifices a social life (she’s not seen with a lot of friends who have her back, aside from a brief time with Ruth Powers), chances for social mobility, and her own self-improvement for her family. While we love a mother who prioritizes her family’s autonomy, we still kind of hope that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own identity for her family. 

Power Ranking: 8, points for the iconic suit and it’s layered meanings. 

Bridget Jones

A rare move of power for a normally powerless and insecure woman and in a shocking pink blouse and black slacks that show off her hourglass curves and go with her coloring. 

Pink is not a color Bridget isn’t familiar with, especially with this deleted scene that shows her in Pink Passivity (and it looks delicate on a blonde with blue eyes and pale skin but could risk her fading but I as a brunette would look popping!). But here after entering a relationship with Daniel Cleaver (who is a walking red flag) and finding out he was keeping her as his side-ho to his skinny, bitchy American girlfriend and colleague and I have my problems with Bridget Jones as a series (which would take several parts) and I can talk about how Peggy Olson and Joan Holloway were a lot better written versions of her (klutziness and awkwardness but succeeding!). But this is a huge power move where Bridget wears a simple outfit that owns her looks (even being affirmed by a older and previously antagonistic co-worker that she’s actually thinner than the average woman and she can’t back down, like ever) and is able to quit her job for a better and more glamorous job and tell off her ex-boyfriend for how poorly he has treated her. And all her co-workers smile off as she walks off in triumph after telling Daniel she’d rather wipe Saddam Hussein’s ass. I kinda wish I could go Joan Rivers on Daniel here. 

Also points on that bolder shade of pink. 

Power Ranking: 10, no one gets to burn a cheating, manipulative bridge like that (and yes she is conventionally prettier than I but that’s not the point). 

Alice Macray

I know, I should shut my mouth and wear beige but my personal color analysis says I’m a winter person.

It’s an interesting power move, albeit within the confines of patriarchal society and even the only defiance that wouldn’t get her tsked at because she is serving the Male Gaze. And yet it’s a natural part of her characterization in this part of the series: the traditional housewife stubbornly keeping her pedestal and fighting to stall progress for other women pursuing other paths (part of wearing beige and shutting up as Mother of the Groom is to allow the Bride to take center stage) but it’s also a path she had to take what with being a dyslexic in a less informed and intolerant era and growing up in a sheltered, conservative Catholic family. This is also the outfit she wears when she spots a younger wife being forcibly yanked by her husband, alluding that the patriarchy isn’t benevolent. 

This isn’t her first time in pink, or even a pink and blue combination: she wears pink when she goes and gives out bread to defeat the feminists at the Illinois Legislature, she wears pink and blue when Bella Abzug calls on her and her peers’ hypocrisy, she drinks a Pink Lady when she is given a “Christian Pill” and it matches her lavender dress. It’s also ironic: pink, white, and blue are the colors of the Transgender pride flag and she is defending White Heternormative Cisnormative Christian Values TM and it’s also a color combo that shows up in the beauty parlor she frequents where she and her friends wring their hands over working women gaining more ground and feeling that their comfortable privilege is being taken away by women who sully their hands working outside the home while they stay home with their children in their coordinated pastels and have maids of color keep their worlds nice and orderly. 

But she is wearing a pink maxi dress with a high neckline and a very prominent hat that provides very ladylike shade for her fair skin, just like our first Pink Power Girl Mimi Tachikawa, and like Mimi, Alice will take a life-altering short trip to Wonderland. And like Pink Power Girl Eleven, she finds her true hidden power and starts wearing more saturated colors as time goes on. 

Power Ranking: 5, she is on her way to breaking out of her little safe world and doing more than subverting a wedding tradition. 

[deathdoors]

𝐇𝐄𝐘  𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒  !  meredith  here.  nineteen twenty,  they/them  or  she/her,  the  best  admin  in  the  world.  it’s  why  i’m  using  manny  for  my  gif  for  this,  when  he’s  the  best  and  my  mascot  on  the  main  <3  if  it  ain’t  broke  don’t  fix  it.  so:  a  little  about  me  !  i’m  a  libra,  from  new  jersey,  in  my  second  year  of  college,  use  a  lot  of  emojis,  have  recently  and  embarrassingly  been  both  playing  fortnite    (    i  know    )    and  reading  like  2  books  a  night,  which  might  seem  like  it  makes  me  smart  but  actually  just  makes  me  go  to  bed  at  seven  in  the  morning.  which  also  makes  me  a  dumb  bitch.  on  to  the  show  !

name:  emma  phillips age:  thirty occupation:  preschool  teacher trope:  the  wide  eyed  idealist aesthetic:  fresh  baked  chocolate  chip  cookies,  wildflowers  in  a  vase,  half  empty  bottles  of  pink  wine,  stopping  to  pet  every  dog,  happy  tears,  rom-com  movie  nights,  coffee  with  too  much  cream  and  sugar.

emma  was  born  and  raised  in  the  suburbs  outside  springfield,  missouri.  her  mother  was  incredibly  anxious  and  doting,  disliking  emma  riding  bikes  in  the  streets  with  the  other  kids  and  climbing  trees,  etc  she  was  thus  much  closer  to  her  dad:  camping  trips,  bedtime  stories,  the  works.  she  adored  him,  and  when  her  twin  younger  siblings  were  born,  emma’s  mother  interpereted  being  a  daddy’s  girl  as  hating  her,  and  started  ignoring  emma  when  she  wasn’t  scolding  her,  instead  focusing  a  much  more  positive  attention  on  the  twins.  

then,  of  course,  because  life  sucks,  her  dad  got  sick  of  it  and  left  without  so  much  as  a  goodbye.  ran  off  with  his  secretary  when  emma  was  twelve,  leaving  her  with  a  toxic  mom  and  two  little  toddler  twins.  she  entered  mom  mode  when  her  mom’s  anxiety  turned  to  severe,  don’t  get  out  of  bed  depression  ...  emma  was  cooking  for  the  twins    (    and  failing  miserably,  most  of  the  time  it  was  pizza  and  frozen  dinners.  to  emma’s  credit,  that  did  include  frozen  vegetables.    )  helping  them  with  schoolwork,  getting  them  to  and  from  school,   etc.   

her  grandparents  were  semi - well  off,  and  sent  some  money  to  the  phillips  clan,  but  emma  got  a  job  as  soon  as  she  was  able.  the  combination  of  the  two,  and  her  mom’s  on  and  off  working  was  enough  to  not  go  hungry.  the  twins  could  go  on  some  field  trips,  there  was  enough  for  new  clothes  when  they  grew  like  weeds  ...  but  obviously,  no  pre-teen  /  teen  wants  to  constantly  care  for  little  kids.  it  sucked.  

the  money  continued  when  her  grandfather  died  when  she  was  sixteen,  and  then,  a  little  while  later,  right  before  emma  graduated  high  school,  her  grandmother  died,  leaving  them  her  house  in  fort  elms,  washington.  

the  phillips  clan  moved  there,  with  a  month  left  of  high  school  for  emma.  as  soon  as  she  turned  eighteen,  a  mere  month  after  graduation:  emma  was  kicked  out  of  the  house.  her  mother  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  her  anymore,  saying  emma was  tearing  her  away  from  the  twins.  for  the  rest  of  their  childhoods,  emma  was  not  allowed  to  see  either  of  her  siblings,  with  emma’s  mother  telling  them  that  she  had  left  on  purpose.

thus:  she  went  to  college,  moved  out  of  the  house  into  a  new  apartment, fell  in  love  and  pined  boyfriendless  for years  like  some  kind  of  loser,  was  incredibly  on  and  off,  got  cheated  on.  she  hasn’t  been  able  to  land  a  mans  since,  despite  wanting  a  storybook  romance.

while  all  that  was  happening,  she  got  a  degree,  teaching  at  the  fancy  private  preschool  school  in  town.  remember  when  i  said  she  entered  mom  mode  when  her  dad  left  ?  yeah.  she  never  left  it,  apparently.  she  loves  her  job,  though.  lots  of  stickers.

tl;dr:  toxic  mom,  dad  left  when  she  was  12,  effectively  raised  her  younger  siblings.  moved  to  fort  elms  when  she  was  about  to  turn  18,  finished  out  high  school,  and  was  kicked  out.  she  became  a  preschool  teacher,  inexplicably  staying  in  fort  elms.

     personality:  emma  is  kind  hearted  and  optimistic  —  she's  a  little  bit  of  a  people  pleaser,  and  a  lot  a  bit  of  a  hopeless  romantic.  she's  pretty  friendly  /  chatty,  and  considers  people  her  friends  approximately  .5  seconds  after  meeting  them.  she's  a  little  naive  in  the  sense  that  she  believes  everyone  is  good,  or  can  be  good  with  just  a  little  effort,  and  is  pretty  forgiving.  she's  much  more  of  a  go  with  the  group  kind  of  person,  and  hates  being  alone.

tw alcoholism, depression; 

name:  philippa  “pippa”  espina age:  twenty-two occupation:  unemployed trope:  fallen  princess aesthetic:  bottles  of  vodka,  half  burnt  cigarettes,  red  lipstick,  shattered  glass,  parties  going  late  into  the  night,  adept  fingers  rolling  joints,  sleeping  in  late,  the  twinkle  of  a  chandelier.

in  retrospect,  pippa  was  destined  to  be  spoiled:  she  never  got  attention  as  a  child,  and  her  parents  had  money,  and  anyone  who's  seen  a  movie  about  rich  kids  knows  that's  a  cocktail  for  disaster.  california  born  and  bred,  pippa  was  used  to  two  things  by  the  time  she  could  toddle:  the  sun,  and  getting  what  she  wanted.  

her  father  was  a  successful  ...  something  with  a  desk  and  lots  of  people  reporting  to  him,  she  never  even  payed  attention.  her  mother  was  more  focused  on  tennis  practices  and  galas  and  book  clubs  where  they  just  drank  wine.  a  series  of  nannies  raised  her:  not  one  or  two  where  she  could  bond  with,  cling  to  the  maternal  attention  she  desired.    

instead,  her  frequent  temper  tantrums  and  outbursts  lead  to  them  either  quitting  or  getting  fired  when  pippa  made  up  stories:  she  was  so  mean  to  me,  i  think  she's  stealing  from  the  jewelry  box,  she's  been  drinking  your  fancy  wine.  she  didn't  know  why  she  was  doing  it.  maybe  it  was  the  way  her  mother  would  stroke  her  hair  gently,  eyes  blurry  with  drunkeness  saying  they'd  work  on  finding  someone  better  to  take  care  of  her.  for  all  her  twisted  lies,  pippa  could  be  brutally  honest.  yet  she  never  asked  her  mother  why  she  couldn't  take  care  of  her.    

by  the  time  pippa  had  hit  the  sixth  grade,  she'd  been  kicked  out  of  two  of  the  private  schools  in  the  area.  her  third  was  all  all  girl's  school,  full  of  catholic  sensibilities  and  a  headmistress  that  refused  to  dismiss  pippa,  no  matter  how  much  she  acted  out.

she  was  twelve  the  first  time  she  was  the  one  breaking  into  the  liquor  cabinet,  little  sips  of  sweet  liquors  that  made  her  head  feel  fuzzy.  a  lock  was  placed  on  it  three  weeks  later,  and  she  didn't  get  drunk  again  until  high  school.  but  pippa  decided  she  liked  that  feeling,  and  more  importantly,  she  liked  the  feeling  of  her  parents  finally  looking  at  her.  

at  one  of  the  rare  family  meals  a  month  after  her  thirteenth  birthday,  pippa  said  i  don't  want  a  nanny  anymore  at  the  same  time  that  her  father  said  we're  moving  to  washington.  some  business  deal  her  father's  company  had  made  with  the  military  base,  it  was  a  wonderful  town.  she  didn't  want  to  hear  it.  another  tantrum  she  was  far  too  old  for,  a  slap  across  the  face.  selfish  brat.  

they  moved  to  washington  three  days  later.  she  didn’t  have  a  nanny.

pippa  was  never  popular  in  high  school,  nor  unpopular.  she  was  a  bit  of  an  outcast:  mean  and  pretty  only  got  you  so  far  if  you  were  already  top  dog,  and  she  wasn't.  she,  however,  threw  big  parties  that  drew  the  attention  of  high  schoolers  and  the  lamer  end  of  the  college  crowd.  holidays,  breaks,  every  weekend:  an  unlimited  supply  of  all  the  weed  and  alcohol  at  pippa's  house,  combined  with  the  loud  thunk  of  music  and  no  one  to  get  mad  at  you  if  you  broke  a  vase  or  woke  up  on  the  floor  the  next  morning.  her  parents  were  rarely  ever  home.

when  they  were,  however,  things  weren't  pretty.  slammed  glasses  on  tables,  shouts  so  loud  they  made  voices  sore.  pippa  would  stand  there  and  she  would  cry  until  her  face  was  red,  and  say  sorry  for  breaking  things,  and  the  next  day  her  parents  would  give  her  a  new  allowance  and  a  kiss  atop  the  head.  that  was  their  apology.  she  never  accepted  it.  she  kept  the  money  and  embraced  back,  of  course.  but  she  never  meant  it.  she  would  do  the  same  thing  again,  and  again,  and  again.  

attention  was  better  than  any  drug,  and  almost  as  good  as  the  bottom  end  of  a  bottle  or  a  shot  glass.  she  was  mean  and  she  was  catty,  sure,  but  then  she  was  warm  and  fun  and  bought  you  lunch.  by  the  time  she  had  made  stronger  connections,  latching  on  to  the  only  two  people,  the  only  two  friends  she  had  was  easy.  they  were  her  friends,  and  thus  everyone  else  was  her  enemy.  

after  high  school,  she  didn't  do  anything.  no  college,  no  job.  her  parties  persisted,  and  so  did  kisses  behind  locked  doors  and  afternoons  spent  sleeping  off  a  hangover  until  she  woke  up  and  did  it  again.  she  was  still  mean,  still  catty,  still  desperate  for  attention:  growth  had  been  stunted,  immaturity  and  a  desperation  making  her  miserable  to  be  around.  

she  doesn't  know  why  she  does  it.  not  even  deep  down:  sometimes,  it's  like  she's  staring  down  at  her  own  body,  watching  herself  be  cruel  or  unkind,  sparking  up  a  joint  to  call  someone  a  bitch  and  someone  a  cow,  or  taking  another  shot  and  whispering  into  the  nearest  fellow  partygoers'  ear  that  they  should  go  upstairs.  sometimes  she  wakes  up  and  feels  like  she's  the  worst  person  in  the  world.  especially  after  one  of  those  partygoers  is  the  ex  of  one  of  those  two  friends.  she  feels  like  the  worst  person  in  the  world,  and  she  likes  it  better  then,  she  decides.  at  least  then  she  feels  something.

tl;dr: rich bitch, loves partying, classic mean girl. not so functional alcoholic, hooks up with a lot of people. turbulent relationship with her parents, desperate for attention. definitely needs a therapist and a psychiatrist.

personality:  pippa  is  very  ...  sugar  and  ice.  or  more  aptly,  sugar  and  fire.  as  long  as  you  follow  her  my  way  or  the  highway  mentality  and  give  her  plenty  of  attention,  she'll  drag  you  along  on  all  her  plans,  lavish  you  with  attention  ...  until  she  doesn't  anymore.  she's  reckless  and  self-centered,  but  she's  a  hell  of  a  lot  of  fun.  if  you  manage  to  get  into  her  inner  circle,  she'd  take  a  bullet  for  you,  but  ...  well,  as  mentioned  before  she  still  might  sleep  with  your  ex  <3  or  ur  current  bf,  honestly.

tw bullying, anxiety, depression, suicide; 

name:  theodore  "teddy"  larsen age:  twenty-three occupation:  graduate  student trope:  shrinking  violet aesthetic:  pages  and  pages  of  notes,  shiny  comic  book  pages,  freshly  sharpened  pencils,  home  cooked  meals,  deep  shaky  breaths,  science  fiction  movies,  100%  exams,  thick  books  full  of  knowledge

theodore  larsen  came  out  of  the  womb  miserable.  he  was  a  colicky  baby,  born  to  a  loving,  young  american  mother  and  a  his  british  professor  father  in  england.  he  was  a  quiet  child,  once  he  grew  out  of  the  constant  exhausted  crying:  much  preferring  the  company  of  his  mom  than  other  kids.  he  was  smart  though,  and  a  heavy  reader.

when  he  spoke  was  when  the  trouble  began:  as  his  vocabulary  began  to  grow  and  he  talked  more  and  more,  a  stutter  came  with  it.  he  spoke  kindly  and  eloquently  for  his  age,  but  he  struggled  sometimes  to  get  words  out.  kids  were  cruel,  naturally,  and  it  only  made  teddy  more  reclusive.  

out  of  isolation  came  anxiety:  he  was  an  intensely  worried  child,  mostly  involved  with  his  parents  rather  than  people  his  age.  an  investment  in  books,  comics,  nonficiton,  novels.  teddy  was  perfectly  content  with  books  as  his  friends,  and  of  course,  his  mother,  his  favorite  person  in  the  world.

 and  then  his  world  came  crashing  down.  nothing  horrific:  no  one  died,  no  one  was  sick.  but  when  the  only  thing  that  brings  you  comfort  is  security  and  repetition,  your  father  cheating  on  your  mother  and  moving  across  the  world  is  a  pretty  far  crash  to  the  bottom.  port  elms,  washington:  his  mother’s  hometown,  where  teddy  would  finish  out  high  school.

he  was  relentlessly  bullied,  still.  the  label  of  new  kid  paired  with  a  lack  of  social  grace  and  nerdy  dispotion,  there  might  as  well  have  been  a  target  painted  on  his  back.  he  had  one  friend,  endlessly  kind  to  him.  she’d  saved  his  life,  figuratively,  and  he  saved  hers  literally,  an  appearance  at  her  house  shortly  after  her  suicide  attempt.

it  made  sense  that  he’d  have  one  too.  depression  was  a  dark  shroud  that  hung  over  him,  exacerbated  anxious  behaviors.  that  was  months  ago  now.  a  secret,  locked  inside  him,  not  quite  ready  to  come  out.  therapy,  once  a  week.  maybe  twice.

 he’s  not  excited  about  finishing  his  degree,  not  really.  he  feels  good  about  teaching,  it’s  what  he  wants  to  do.  but  the  idea  of  being  back  in  fort  elms  high  isn’t  exactly  leaving  a  good  taste  in  his  mouth.  he’ll  cross  that  bridge  when  he  comes  to  it,  no  matter  how  much  it  makes  his  heart  beat  faster  and  his  palms  sweat.  he’s  got  all  the  time  in  the  world

tl;dr: nervous mess, bullying target, has one real friend. very sensitive mama’s boy. british accent, moved to fort elms when he was in high school. sad. doesn’t like his dad very much. 

personality:  the  nerdiest  mf  alive.  teddy  is  a  total  sweetheart,  very  socially  awkward,  and  pretty  damn  smart.  he  know  a  lot  about  typical  nerdy  shit.  superheroes,  star  trek.  he  LOVES  star  wars.  he's  also  in  a  band,  playing  bass.  fun  times.  he's  nervous  as  hell  —  also  super  cautious,  he  never  likes  to  do  anything  without  it  being  meticulously  planned.  total  mamas  boy.

[espejonight28738]

The Destiel Story (A Playlist)

Merry Christmas! Here’s my gift to y'all. I made a chronological playlist of destiel, and I’ll explain each song on by one. Or if you aren’t interested in reading that much (3) HERE you have the spotify playlist :)

Tagging: @verobatto-angelxhunter @agusvedder @legendary-destiel Happpy Holidays :3

04×01/04×06 Infra-red -Three Days Grace Just getting to know each other

Everyone’s living in black and white We see each other in a different light That’s why I look at you like I do Like nobody else is even in the room [...] In Infra-red The heat and the light and the way you move Like nobody else is in the room If you fall into me, I fall into you I see you, I see you

04×07/04×20 You Found Me - The Fray In 04×07 we have the whole “I’ll tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul”, so trust begins to flourish here.

Lost and insecure You found me, you found me Lying on the floor Surrounded, surrounded Why’d you have to wait? Where were you, where were you? Just a little late You found me, you found me

04×21/ 05×03 - Angel With a Shotgun - The Cab You know, rebel against heaven and everything you ever believed for a friend. It’s casual.

They say before you start a war You better know what you’re fighting for Well baby, you are all that I adore If love is what you need, a soldier I will be I’m an angel with a shotgun Fighting til’ the wars won I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe Don’t you know you’re everything I have? And I, wanna live, not just survive, tonight

04×05 - Stoned on You - James Young I was about to put Toxic, but I think that joke’s been made to many times already.

Girl, I get stoned on you Rubbing my bones on you (yeah) Nothing else burns like you do (no) Oh Lord, I get stoned on you, oh Stoned!

05×05/22×05 - Dangerous Night - Imagine Dragons Does it happen to y'all that you are trying to stop The Apocalypse, but you keep having gay thoughts about your angel? Annoying, I know

What a dangerous night to fall in love Don’t know why we still hide what we’ve become (oh, oh) Do you wanna cross the line? We’re runnin’ out of time A dangerous night to fall in love Started a stranger, a love endangered The edge of a night The face of an angel, the heart of a ghost Was it a dream?

Time Skip bewtwen s5/s6 Dare I Say - Alexander Rybak If only Cas had kept contact with Dean, I would be able to use Lips Of An Angel, but no, he had to go all MIA. But this song’s still good so. Cas POV, btw.

She doesn’t know that I’m thinking of her […] She makes me glad just by being alright Though I would wish that just for one night She would come back and again we’ll be friends Like those times where love never ends […] You said you love him the last time we met Please tell your boyfriend that I’m not a threat I know the difference between right and wrong […] But dare I say you are amazing in every way? And would you mind if we woke up with each other each day? But then I remember that I’m just a guy And still I keep dreaming of you ‘cause that’s all I can do

06×01/06×19 I’m Not An Angel - Halestorm Cas POV again. S6 is so angsty istg I had like 300 possibles songs for each of the following parts. 

You saw all the signs, but you let it go You closed your eyes […] Hate being that wall That you hit when you feel that you gave it all I keep taking the blame When we both know that I’ll never change […] I wasn’t always this way I used to be the one with the halo But that disappeared when I had my first taste And fell from grace and left me in this place

06×20 Set Fire To The Rain - Adele You can’t have a descent playlist without Adele, amirite? Dean’s POV this time. Poor baby really felt betrayed. The Man Who Would be King is probably one of my faves episodes tbh.

But there’s a side to you That I never knew, never knew All the things you’d say They were never true, never true And the games you play You would always win, always win […] I set fire to the rain And I threw us into the flames Well, it felt something died 'Cause I knew that that was The last time, the last time Sometimes I wake up by the door, That heart you caught must be waiting for you Even now when we’re already over I can’t help myself from looking for you

06×21/06×22 Angels - Within Temptation I love this song so much and it’s so destiel in these episodes I swear I can’t for how much it fits. Dean’s POV

Sparkling Angel, I believed You were my saviour, in my time of need Blinded by faith, I couldn’t hear, All the whispers, the warnings so clear […] You took my heart, deceived me right from the start You showed me dreams, I wish they’d turn into real You broke the promise and made me realize It was all just a lie

07×01/ 07×02 - What Have You Done - Within Temptation  I don’t know whose POV, but this song is so perfect I can’t believe no one has thought of this before.

Would you mind I kill you? Would you mind if I tried to? Cause you have Turn into my worst enemy You carry hate that I don’t feel. It’s over now, what have you done? (What have you done now?) I, I’ve been waiting for someone like you But now you are slipping away (What have you done now?) Why, why does fate make us suffer? There’s a curse between us Between me and you

07×03/07×16 Incomplete - Backstreet Boys And in this Dean Grieving Cas Pt.1, we have a little bit of denial and a lot of heart-brokenness.

I tried to go on like I never knew you I’m awake, but my world if hald asleep I pray for this heart to be unbroken But without you all I’m going to be is incomplete […] I don’t mean to drag it on But I can’t seem to let you go I don’t want to make you face this world alone I want to let you go

07×17 Taking Over Me - Evanescence The Born Again Identity. Dean’s POV. No more comments.

You don’t remember me, but I remember you I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you But who can decide what they dream? And dream I do I believe in you I’ll give up everything just to find you I have to be with you to live to breathe You’re taking over me Have you forgotten all I know And all we had? You saw me mourning my love for you And touched my hand I knew you loved me then

07×18/07×22 Clarity - Zedd Is this a joke about Crazy!Cas? Maybe. But I think it’s mostly serious. Probably.

Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need Chasing relentlessly Still fight and I don’t know why If our love is tragedy why are you my remedy If our love’s insanity why are you my clarity

Purgatory - A Thousand Years - Christina Perry The Purgatory storyline makes me so emotional I love it so much and now we are going back and- If they don’t solve their problems so I can add Halo to this playlist then what’s even the fucking point.

How to be brave? How can I love when I’m afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone All of my doubt Suddenly goes away somehow One step closer I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I’ll love you for a thousand more […] And all along I believed I would find you Time has brought your heart to me I have loved you for a thousand years I’ll love you for a thousand more

08×01/08×07 The Night We Met - Lord Huron Dean trying to deal with his feelings about leaving Cas behind, and his really platonic hallucinations.

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don’t know what I’m supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met

08×08/08×16 Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye Dean’s POV hurting because Cas is acting strange and doesn’t respond to his prayers even after all they lived together in Purgatory.

But you didn’t have to cut me off Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing And I don’t even need your love But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough No, you didn’t have to stoop so low Have your friends collect your records and then change your number I guess that I don’t need that though Now you’re just somebody that I used to know

08×17 Find my way back - Eric Arjes Cas finding his way to Dean even with Naomi’s brainwashing :D

On my way now Don’t give up on me And no one knows what What tomorrow brings These weary eyes will never rest Until they look in yours again […] There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do I’ll find my way back to you I’ll find my way back to you I’ll find my way back Into the dark to chase your heart No distance could ever tear us apart There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do I’ll find my way back to you

08×18/09×02 Hold On - Chord Overstreet Cas bailing on Dean -again-, and going AWOL -again-, and then saying he will close Heaven and probably die, or in the least never see each other again.

Loving and fighting Accusing, denying I can’t imagine a world with you gone The joy and the chaos, the demons we’re made of I’d be so lost if you left me alone […] I don’t wanna let go I know I’m not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying baby, let’s go home Let’s go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you

09×03 To Good at Goodbyes - Sam Smith I won’t comment this chapter bc it still hurts me :) “You can’t stay”

I know you’re thinking I’m heartless I know you’re thinking I’m cold I’m just protecting my innocence I’m just protecting my soul […] But every time you hurt me, the less that I cry And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry And every time you walk out, the less I love you Baby, we don’t stand a chance, it’s sad but it’s true I’m way to good at goodbyes

09×06 Do I Wanna Know - Artic Monkeys This is POV both of them kinda, I don’t know how to explain it, it just gives me the vibe. An alternative to this if you like music in spanish, is “Ex de verdad” from Ha-Ash. I think that one is much funnier for the situation, but I decided for english only :(

Do I wanna know If this feelin’ flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin’ things that you can’t say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when You’ve had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I’m too Busy bein’ yours To fall for somebody new Now, I’ve thought it through Crawlin’ back to you

09×07/09×23 I Would Do Anything For Love - Meat Loaf “His true weakness is revealed. He’s in love. With Humanity.”

As long as the planets are turning As long as the stars are burning As long dreams are coming true You’d better believe it, that I would do Anything for love Oh I would do anything for love Oh I would do anything for love

10×01/ 10×03 My Demons - Starset This is completely serious. I swear.

Take me over the walls below Fly forever Don’t let me go I need a savior to heal my pain When I become my worst enemy The enemy […] Take me high and I’ll sing Oh you make everything okay (okay, okay) We are one in the same Oh you take all of the pain away (away, away) Save me if I become My demons

10×04 /10×22 No Rest -Dry the River A.K.A time for the angsty parallel Cain/Colette & Dean/Cas

Did you see the light in my heart? Did you see the sweat on my brow? Did you see the fear in my heart? Did you see me bleeding out? I loved you in the best I loved you in the best way possible I loved you in the best way possible I loved you in the best way possible I loved you in the best

10×23 /11×10 Next to Me - Imagine Dragons -I almost killed you bc of the Mark of Cain and then you almost killed me with Rowena’s spell but still here we are.

Oh, I always let you down You’re shattered on the ground But still I find you there Next to me And oh, stupid things I do I’m far from good, it’s true But still I find you Next to me

11×11/11×22 If You Only Knew - Shinedown *Violently pinning while Cas is being Lucifer’s vessel*

If you only knew How I refuse to let you go, Even when you’re gone I don’t regret any days I Spent, nights we shared, Or letters that I sent It’s 4:03 and I can’t sleep Without you next to me I Toss and turn like the sea If I drown tonight, bring me Back to life Breathe your breath in me The only thing that I still believe In is you, if you only knew […] You help me live and learn

11×23 I’ll Follow You Into The Dark - Gavin Mikhail “I could go with you” GOD do they make me cry

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied And illuminate the no’s on their vacancy signs If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I’ll follow you into the dark

12×01 Arms - Christina Perry That hug so cute, my babies.

I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth And I’ve never opened up I’ve never truly loved 'till you put your arms around me And I believe that it’s easier for you to let me go […] You put your arms around me and I’m home

12×02/12×09 I Found - Amber Run *Pining bc Cas doesn’t pay attention to you because he is looking for Lucifer*

I’ll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind And I’ll use you as a focal point So I don’t lose sight of what I want And I’ve moved further than I thought I could But I missed you more than I thought I would And I’ll use you as a warning sign That if you talk enough sense then you’ll lose your mind

12×10 Hot N Cold - Katy Perry I could have used a more serious one, but the best part of the episode is them bickering like an old married couple.

'Cause you’re hot then you’re cold You’re yes then you’re no You’re in then you’re out You’re up then you’re down You’re wrong when it’s right It’s black and it’s white We fight, we break up We kiss, we make up (You) You don’t really want to stay, no (You) But you don’t really want to go-o

12×11 - Losing your Memory - Ryan Star This is the episode where Dean gets witched into amnesia.

Call all your friends And tell them you’re never coming back Cause this is the end Pretend that you want it […] I would have died I would have loved you all my life You’re losing your memory now You’re losing your memory now You’re losing your memory now You’re losing your memory, now

12×12 In The Name of Love - Martin Garrix, Bebe Rexha “I love you.” *looks at Dean* “I love all of you" 

If I told you this was only gonna hurt If I warned you that the fire’s gonna burn Would you walk in? Would you let me do it first? Do it all in the name of love Would you let me lead you even when you’re blind? In the darkness, in the middle of the night In the silence, when there’s no one by your side Would you call in the name of love? In the name of love, name of love In the name of love, name of love

12×13/12×18- I Don’t Wanna Live Forever - ZAYN, Taylor Swift *Cas keeps going after Lucifer’s child instead of paying attention to Dean*

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you’d call It’s just a cruel existence like there’s no point hoping at all Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day Give me something, oh, but you say nothing What is happening to me? […] I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

12×19 Thank You - Led Zeppelin This song has absolutely no relation to the episode but I KNOW Dean put it in the mixtape in hopes that Cas would do 1+1 and understand his confession, but he didn’t. And you can pry that headcanon from my COLD DEAD FINGERS.

If the sun refused to shine I would still be loving you When mountains crumble to the sea There will still be you and me Little drops of rain whisper of the pain Tears of loves lost in the days gone by My love is strong, with you there is no wrong Together we shall go until we die My, my, my inspiration is what you are to me Inspiration look, see

12×23 Slipped Away - Avril Lavigne :)))) Do not think of Dean on his knees next to Cas’ body and the burned wings.

Now you’re gone, now you’re gone There you go, there you go Somewhere I can’t bring you back Now you’re gone, now you’re gone There you go, there you go Somewhere, you’re not coming back The day you slipped away Was the day I found it won’t be the same, no The day you slipped away Was the day that I found it won’t be the same, oh

13×01/ 13×05 Dark Paradise - Lana de Rey Dean grieving Cas Pt.2 but this time he takes it like, a thousand times worse.

All my friends tell me I should move on I’m lying in the ocean, singing your song Ah, that’s how you sing it Loving you forever, can’t be wrong Even though you’re not here, won’t move on Ah, that’s how we play it And there’s no remedy for memory your face Is like a melody, it won’t leave my head Your soul is haunting me and telling me That everything is fine But I wish I was dead Every time I close my eyes It’s like a dark paradise No one compares to you I’m scared that you won’t be waiting on the other side

13×06 Better Than I Know Myself - Adam Lambert Brokebacknatural. Dean being a happy ray of sunshine now that he got his sunshine back.

Cold as ice And more bitter than a December Winter night That’s how I treated you And I know that II sometimes tend to lose my temper And I cross the line Yeah that’s the truth I know it gets hard sometimes But I could never Leave your side No matter what I say 'Cause if I wanted to go I would’ve gone by now but I really need you near me To keep my mind off the edge If I wanted to leave I would’ve left by now But you’re the only one that knows me Better than I know myself

Emm… from here I’ll be skipping many episodes because, as you know, the writers decided that Dean and Cas didn’t need to interact for anything other than talking about Jack, because it’s not like they had a profound bond or anything, right? 

14×22 September - Daughtry Dean seeing what would have been of Cas if they haven’t met.

Of all the things I still remember Summer’s never looked the same The years go by and time just seems to fly But the memories remain In the middle of September we’d still play out in the rain Nothing to lose but everything to gain Reflecting now on how things could’ve been It was worth it in the end

13×23/14×02 Hymn for the Missing - Red *Reverse pinning now with Cas pinning for a Dean that’s being Michael’s vessel*

Where are you now? Are you lost? Will I find you again? Are you alone? Are you afraid? Are you searching for me? Why did you go? I had to stay Now I’m reaching for you Will you wait, will you wait? Will I see you again?

14×03/14×17 Stone - James Young This is… mostly just from 14×14 with Dean and Cas’ talk when Jack went to the bathroom bc they still never talk.

Your father came and went like the ocean’s tide And the day he left he never said goodbye […] You’ve been waiting for a miracle all your life […] So give me all your pain And love will set you free Give all your shame Put all your weight on me And I’ll be the stone you need me to be

14×18 /15×02 Bad Guy - Set it Off Look! They are talking again and- and now they are fighting. And Dean is blaming Cas for things that weren’t his fault. *sighting* Cas POV

I stole the moon I made the stars align I showed you how to fly And you made me the bad guy I fought for you I kept you safe at night I would have risked my life And you made me the bad guy

15×03 Fade - Lewis Cappaldi The DivorceTM 

Well, I know that we’ve been hardly holding on To tell the truth, I can’t believe we got this far Running near on empty I wish somebody would’ve told me That I’d end up so caught up in need of your demons That I’d be lost without you leading me astray Guess that I’m a fool for the way that you caught me Girl, you make my heart break more every day But don’t fade away

15×04/15×06 - Always - Gavin James And now we are pretending you are okay with the fact Cas dumped you? Okay, let’s pretend the drinking and comfort food ain’t signals of depression

What am I supposed to do without you? Is it too late to pick the pieces up? Too soon to let them go? Do you feel damaged just like I do? Your face, it makes my body ache It won’t leave me alone And this feels like drowning Trouble sleeping Restless dreaming You’re in my head Always, always I just got scared Away, away I’d rather choke on my bad decisions Then just carry them to my grave You’re in my head Always, always, always

15×07- Feel Something - James Young I Don’t Miss My Ex, so I’ll go have a good time with my other ex- oh no his evil. Oh no I had to kill him. Oh no I came back home and Cas won’t even look at me. Damn.

Touch me someone I’m too young to feel so Numb, numb, numb, numb […] So if you’re gonna stay, then stay But if you’re gonna go Make sure that you hurt me just enough to Make me feel something, something

15×08 Habits of My Heart - James Young So now we are pretending we aren’t sending indirects to each other? Fine. And you still don’t look at me even when you heal me AND NOT TOUCH ME. FINE.  And now our brothers are sending us to the time when our love was strongest? Where I spent a year praying to you and looking for you? I place that feels pure? Oh fuck.

You know I’d rather be alone, yeah But then you call me on the phone Oh the habits of my heart I can´t say no It’s ripping me apart You get too close You make it hard to let you go […] 'Cause I’d rather be alone But you fermented in my bones

(Note: You can measure my failure by the fact the word Angel was only 4 times in all this list.)

[jawnjendes]

something more than me | shawn mendes

university au, shawn x goth gf. if there’s anything else yall wanna see regarding this series, let me know!

masterlist | series playlist

These days, the only way you could get me out of the dorm room apart from class and work was if you needed a buddy to travel with at night. What I’m trying to say is my roommate, Stella, wanted to go to a coffee shop after the sun went down. She would have gone alone if it wasn’t in a questionable part of downtown. It was also a coffee shop neither of us had been to before, and it was far from campus. She wanted me to go with her because I was always preaching about travelling in pairs at night.

The only thing is, Stella told me we were going out about fifteen minutes before she intended to head out the door. She was already dressed in a hoodie and leggings, a red beanie over her brown hair. She had her boots on and keys in hand. She was ready, while I was the opposite. The moment I woke up today, I decided to throw the whole day away. No interaction, no makeup, no pants.

“Come on!” Stella snapped, pulling off the comforter I was lying under.

I’ll admit, I was a bit under the weather these days. I had been waiting for a prescription refill on my antidepressants. Sleep evaded me, and when it wasn’t, I was having nightmares. Aside from that, my digestive system was giving me a hard time, which added to the mental stress. Finally, there was the fact that I was still in a gloom from, for lack of a better phrase, “breaking up” with my toxic fuck buddy, Luca. You could imagine how much I did not want to go out tonight.

“Isn’t that place, like, on the other side of town?” I asked, mumbling into my pillow. “Why not just go to Starbucks?”

“Because Shawn and Camila are performing at this place and I promised I’d go!” Stella hastily replied as she reached down to the floor to grab my jeans. “Now get dressed so we can go!”

“I don’t know those people…”

“You know Camila!” My pants were thrown at me. “Cover up your granny panties and let’s go!”

I vaguely knew Camila. She sat in the front of my stats class, always chatting to the professor. I was always in the back, close to the exit, staying as invisible as possible. We weren’t friends.

Stella was persistent, so I rolled out of my small bed and pulled my jeans on. “At least it’s not a bar.”

~

We showed up to the coffee shop after the show had started. People were spilling out the door, but Stella pushed her way in with me on her tail. A boppy tune was booming through the vicinity, and two distinct voices were singing passionately accompanied by an acoustic guitar.

Stella dragged me past the cashier/barista, claiming that there would be time for that later. She stopped near the front of where the singers were; A short girl who was fully jamming to her own song, and a tall guy with a guitar singing beside her.

I knew the short girl was Camila. Who could forget her beauty and voice that was talked about all over campus? I did not recognize the tall curly haired guy, though it was easy to tell he liked the group of girls sitting directly in front of his singing space.

My body was there, but I felt out of place. I thought that only happened at bars and night clubs. I wasn’t fond of being in a crowded space, or out of my dorm. My therapist said it was good for me, though. Being surrounded by strangers is better than being isolated, even if you feel alone in that crowd. Those are her words, not mine.

I snapped back into reality when the song ended and everyone started clapping. I joined in, trying not to look like an obvious stick in the mud. Come on, we can do this.

“Thanks, guys!” said Camila into her microphone. “I’m gonna leave it to my friend Shawn now!”

The girls in front were certainly happy about that. That Shawn guy was too. Must be a Leo.

Stella flagged down her friend as soon as she was offstage. Camila excitedly approached us and hugged us both. I tensed up at the touch, and my nose itched at the scent of her perfume, but she didn’t notice.

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” she exclaimed.

I’ve talked to you exactly once.

She and Stella chatted for a little bit before the next song started. Now, instead of holding a guitar and standing at the microphone, Shawn sat down in front of a keyboard set up. I internally prepared to barf at the incoming slow love song.

Thirty seconds into it, I learned to not judge conventionally handsome singers and assume they only live to make ladies swoon. This song was fucking sad and poking at my own wounds.

“You’ve got ahold of me Don’t even know your power I stand a hundred feet But I fall when I’m around you”

I got that cold ache in my chest just like I did two months ago. My throat burned and tightened up. I was immediately sucked into the song, and mildly resenting it. How dare a handsome singing man make a song that I actually like.

Someone hurting you so bad that you’re begging them for mercy… That feeling was my best friend and worst enemy. She knocked the wind out of me many times, so I had to kick her to the curb. You can find the will to leave someone toxic, but no one ever tells you how hard it is to deal with the sadness and aches that come after. I just couldn’t pinpoint why it was happening. I cut off the toxicity, I removed the bad thing. Why was I so fucking sad?

Applause rippled through the crowd as Shawn hit the bridge. I let out a soft breath and clapped as well. This guy certainly knew how to move a crowd with his voice.

“I’m prepared to sacrifice my life, I would gladly do it twice”

If I was the type to smoke cigarettes, I would have stepped outside to do so. My eyes were starting to sweat, so I looked at the floor and tried to suck it up. The toxic ex was making his was into my brain again. It was bad enough I still saw him at work…

The show ended with that last song. Shawn thanked the audience and waved at the girls in front. As soon as he stepped off the stage, everyone in the shop rushed to the barista to order drinks and whatnot. That was when Stella grabbed my wrist and ushered us back outside. Camila followed close behind, her hands on my waist. Didn’t have boundaries, I guess.

“Y’all are getting popular,” Stella said when we were finally out in the chilly night.

Camila was beaming. “Amazing, right? We had no idea it would turn out like this!”

“So when are you and Shawn tying the knot, eh?” Stella nudged her friend.

“Ha! You’re so funny!” Camila replied with an eyeroll. “We’re looking, just not for each other!”

That made Stella smile mischievously, and she glanced at me. “Inch resting.”

The two girls talked some more, while I merely listened. This was still better than being at a bar… Or alone in my dorm for the millionth time on a Saturday night. Maybe I needed someone, or something more than me. Something to push me to… I don’t know? Something better, I suppose. Stella was good at that when she wasn’t in Full Extrovert Mode. I couldn’t demand she always “takes care” of me, though. She deserved a good time as much as anyone else did.

For convenient timing, the singing man emerged from the overcrowded coffee shop. He spotted Camila and joined our circle. He had a drink holder in his hands, and a big smile on his face.

“Hey guys, I brought drinks!” he greeted, looking at all of us. His face was much kinder when it wasn’t hidden by dim lights.

I also couldn’t look directly at him when he gave me a cup. Nope, we’re looking at the ground now, laid ease.

Stella, on the other hand, was not having it with my quiet, introverted ass. She nudged my arm to make me look up and then she properly introduced me to Shawn.

“Oh, you’re the goth roommate!” he said. “It’s nice to meet you!”

Will I ever be able to trust Stella to make me seem like a normal person to other people? Probably not. At least she was trying to get me out of the shell I made for myself.

“You too,” I replied with an awkward smile. “Good set.”

“Thanks. I saw you tearing up in the crowd.”

Fuck.

“That’s impossible, I don’t do tears,” I said without thinking. Okay, edgelord. You’re so edgy. So original.

Shawn chuckled. “Maybe it was the other girl with black lipstick and the Underoath t-shirt.”

And we’re looking at the ground again!

“Hey, aren’t you and Shawn doing the same major?” Stella asked, nudging me once again.

“Music?” Shawn guessed, looking intrigued.

I was puzzled, glancing at Stella once. “Um. No. Psychology.”

“Oops. Had a brain fart.” My insane roommate giggled.

“It’s cool.” Shawn smiled and lied his stupidly cute eyes on me once again. “A psych major, eh? Are you analyzing my every move?”

Funny joke. First time hearing that one.

“No, but I can for three hundred dollars,” I said back.

“Is that how much a shrink is?” Camila piped up.

“No!” Shawn answered. “Free healthcare!”

Yeah… yeah, he got me there.

“Somehow, I still think I’m in the States,” I said timidly.

After that, Stella and Camila strolled down the street. That pretty much ended Stella’s Safe Buddy Duty. I felt quite out of place once again as she babbled away to Camila in Spanish. It’s not that I didn’t speak the language, I just really am as much of a hermit as I’m told.

Shawn thought different as we walked someways behind them. “They always do that in class. You can’t understand them either, eh?”

“¿Y porque piensas eso?” I replied, once again without thought. “Simplemente soy muy callada y casi nunca me salgo de la casa. Nomas estoy un poca incomoda con personas que no conozco.”

“Awesome,” he said after a moment of silence. “So… you’re from the US?”

“Yup. Southern California.”

“What made you want to come all the way over here for college?”

“Simple: I don’t like the desert. Or heat. Or the sun.”

I had my eyes on the sidewalk I stepped on until I realized Shawn hadn’t replied. I looked up only to realize he was looking back at me in disbelief.

“That’s it? You moved countries because of the weather?”

What is he expecting, my life story?

Before I could talk back, Stella piped up from in front of us. “She’s a goth, she’s allergic to the sun!”

“Ah, so it was for your own health,” Shawn replied. “I get it now.”

~

The next time I saw this guy was at a bus stop just outside of campus. I had seen him from where I parked my car, and I secretly hoped he would have forgotten me by now. I made sure to have my headphones on as I walked past him, but he touched my shoulder and stopped me. So much for remaining invisible.

“Do you always look at the floor when you walk?” he asked, amused.

“How else will I know where to step?” I said in return.

He laughed, which was then followed by silence. Why did he stop me? Just to say hi? What kind of fuckery-

“You’re not wearing the black lipstick,” he pointed out.

I shrugged, feeling… inadequate. “Didn’t want people constantly reminding me of my lip color.”

“Well, it looked really cool the other night. It’s kinda what made me notice you.” He offered a smile, to which I changed the subject.

“So, where you headed?”

“Work. I work at this flower shop in the middle of town.” Shawn looked both ways, noticing the empty roads. “I think the bus is late.”

The bus is late. He works with flowers. The bus is late. Flowers.

“Are you running late?” I asked. Don’t do it. Oh god, don’t do it.

“Uh…” Shawn checked the time on his phone. “No, I should be fine. I like to be early.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I have a question.”

FUCK.

“Uhh…” I said stupidly.

“What really made you want to come here for college?” he prompted.

Someone clearly didn’t forget my lack of interest from the other night. Why was this question so important to him?

“Why are you here for college?” I said back.

“I live here. Now you.”

God fuckign-

“Wanted to travel, I guess. I’ve been in one place my whole life.” I shrugged, looking anywhere except him yet again.

“Hm. Okay. What are you listening to?”

“Five sauce.”

“Aren’t you a goth, though?”

I rolled my eyes and made a noise between a scoff and a laugh. “Firstly, Stella calls me that, I don’t. Secondly, you ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, I just wanna get to know you.”

Any normal, naive person would have been swayed by Shawn’s sweet tone and charming smile. I, however, learned that there’s more than what meets the eye. He doesn’t really want to know you, he just wants something. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make you think he does.

I narrowed my eyes. “You need to unlock level forty seven friendship to know anything,” I told him.

“And how far am I?”

“We’ve talked one time before this. You’re not even on level one!”

“Okay, so we’ll hang out sometime so I can make progress.” Shawn’s grin was now very smug. Then he looked to the street. “Oh, right on time.”

The bus just so happened to pull up right about now. My eyes were still narrow and furious, and I was making sure Shawn knew it. How dare he trap me! How dare he ask questions about me! Just say you wanna use me for sex and go!

He was still grinning as he went to the bus entrance. “I’ll let you know when I’m free to hang out. I’ll see you later!”

This motherfu-

[bakerofmysteryroom]

((Gently puts a 💕))

strangers (0 of 5)

I don’t know you personally or at all. I would not recognize you on the street. I do not know your name. i would not recognize if you were brought up in conversation. you have no importance in my life.

acquaintances (3 of 9)

i know your name. I recognize your face. i think i understand your personality on a surface level. i’d like to get to know you more. i think we could be good friends. we have a lot of similar interests. people say we’re a lot alike. we don’t ask one another for favors often. i would not be able to tell someone if you have allergies.

friends (7 of 11)

we get along well. we have fun together. i like hanging out with you. you’re someone i can send memes to. i feel comfortable around you. i know some of your interests. i’m a little more open with you than other people. i keep some secrets to myself. sometimes i’m not sure what i can open up to you about. i usually buy you something minor for holidays. i like when we can go out and do something together.

best friends (9 of 13)

i could tell you anything. i call you if there’s a problem. we probably text too much. we have a great time together. we’ve got through some bad times. i can be myself around you. we have inside jokes for days. i send you songs that remind me of us. we have a lot of memories together. i can open up to you. i worry when you’re in a bad situation. i’d kick someone’s booty for you. i take insults against you personally.

crushes (1 of 13)

you make my heart race. i can’t stop thinking about you. i worry i text back too quickly. every touch is a sign. sometimes i wonder what kind of person is your type. i send you songs that remind me of you. i keep dropping hints about how i feel. you make me emotional. i want to tell you how i feel. i like when you let me stay over. i think i’d be happy so long as you’re happy. seeing you with other people makes me jealous. i can’t tell if this is a date or we’re just hanging out solo.

sister/brotherly (3 of 15)

you drive me crazy. we’re on the same level. you take over all my hobbies. you nag me too much. i’d die for you. we jinx a lot. we have inside games. we play too many pranks. sometimes our fights can get a little intense. i feel relaxed around you. i can be myself around you. we take care of each other. you steal my food right from my plate. i steal your food straight from your plate. if one of us is sick, we both are.

dating & early love (0 of 13)

you make me happy. we have everything in common. you are always on my mind. i can’t get enough of you. we sleep on top of each other, not next to each other. we buy everything in pairs. talking about you is like word vomit. people seem a little annoyed at how in love we are. our relationship should have books written about it. we’re always making memories. i can’t wait to do all our ‘firsts’ together. sometimes i get cold feet. i hope we’ll be together forever.

mature love (1 of 18)

you take all the blankets. you ate the last of MY snack. we get into tiffs but work it out. i can be honest with you. you know everything about me. we can be a little naggy towards each other. i feel safe around you. you are always on my mind. everything i do is for us. ‘we’ seems to suit us best. people say we fight like a married couple. we are married. we have children together. we reminisce while making memories. i’d die for you. i can’t imagine my life without you. i love you for your flaws. i’ll love you forever.

toxic love (3 of 15)

(optional, contains abuse mentions)

i’ll do anything you tell me to do. it doesn’t matter so long as you’re happy. i don’t care so long as it makes me happy. i’m only in this relationship to get something. you only want to be with me to get something. i can’t trust you. i don’t feel comfortable around you. talking to you feels like walking on egg shells. i never know what is okay. you apologize with gifts. i apologize with gifts. you say i’m everything to you. i don’t talk to anyone else anymore. we get into physical fights. the cops have been called before (I am the cops).

exes (1 of 12)

i miss what we had. we used to be good friends. my memories feel tainted now. i think about texting you a lot. i wonder how you’ve been. i don’t like the idea of you getting with other people. i’m already seeing other people. we have a child together. we’re legally separated. we broke up. my family wants us to get back together. i put you on blast with all my friends.

enemies (1 of 11)

i hate you. you make my skin crawl. you are my antonym. seeing you makes my blood boil. i know you’re no good. you thwart my every move. i know your trying to hurt me. i know you’re talking shit about me. i’ve never felt this way about anyone else. i could kill you. i will kill you.

result: The Worst Friend but also one of her Oldest so..... yeah.

[rivalsofnycupdates]

“The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it.”

■ ABOUT. ■

name: Isaac Abrigo age: thirty-two occupation: St. of Arms for Garrett “Tubbs” Miller gender: cis-male pronouns: he/him sexuality: utp

■ HISTORY. ■

When Isaac Flores grew up in Texas he didn’t live his life any different from the other kids on the playground. He thought his childhood was the best at the time. He only started to catch onto the crimes and the clubs source of income when he was a teenager. And despite knowing that his parents and the rest of the club were breaking the law, he always knew and agreed with the reasoning behind every action the club took. At that age, he was disguised to do things, he would probably later regret it. Though growing up the way he did, he never regretted anything. As a teenager, he was vicious and thoroughly enjoyed hurting people. Going into high school, nothing changed he was still the same jerk to everyone he laid eyes on. He didn’t care for his studies, he skipped class almost all the time. He was rude to his teachers, he found himself in the principal's office more times than he could count. Although he always got into trouble, it never affected him, since the principal learned early on there was no way of controlling the Devils.

Isaac and a few other gang members were ruled the school. Until a new principal was assigned their senior year, Isaac wasn’t so lucky with scaring this one-off. No matter how many vicious pranks they pulled off, it was clear that this principle was there to stay. Isaac didn’t change his ways, and for that reason, he and some of his friends failed their senior year. To his surprise, his parents were furious about him failing. He returned back to his high school with orders of pulling up his grades and fewer pranks. As he started his fifth year of high school, he was determined to find ways around his parent's orders. That plan quickly altered when he noticed Rosaline Richards. A very beautiful girl who in the last year of high school changed him from a boy to a man. Their first couple of months together were amazing. Though things became more challenging after the night she arrived at the police station to bail him out. He wondered if she struggled with his commitments and loyalty to the club. Their fights became more aggressive, more passionate, and more frequent. With every mean fight, of course, brought amazing sex. It was a toxic yet, incredibly relationship, he thought would last forever. Despite their many obstacles, she sparked the thought of getting out of the gang life, starting fresh. In fact, that became their escape plan when they graduated. A plan none of his gang member friends encouraged. A plan that quickly changed when she’d dumped him, out of the blue and left Texas not long after.

When he finally received his high school diploma, he then became a full member of the Quantum of Devils. It’s after that, did he start working harder and smarter. At the time of their president suddenly dying and replaced with Garrett, he wasn’t sure about it all. He remembers the effects the switch had on some members. A few left, out of distrust. Isaac wasn’t sure if Garrett was trustworthy. Over the years, the more Isaac watched Garrett work and make their club better, bringing in more cash, his trust was easily swayed.

■ WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON? ■

Isaac has been a committed member since he patched in after high school when the love of his life left him without any explanation, he didn’t have any hope for a bright future without the gang. It’s exactly how his friends and family had planned his life to be. Every now and then he thinks of a business idea or something to do as a hobby though he often retreats back to drugs or sex in order to ignore those feelings. In fact, it’s probably for that reason he was offered St of Arms title since he was so heartless he didn’t care the lengths he would need to go to either protect a member or get a job done.

■ KEEP THIS AWAY FROM YOUR ENEMIES ■

A week hasn’t gone by where Rosaline hasn’t popped into Isaac’s thoughts. When he thinks about the way they ended their relationship, he could never figure out why she’d dumped him, or why she left Texas so abruptly. He wondered if she struggled with his commitment and loyalty to the club. Maybe she didn’t believe he would leave? He’s since had many lovers, although he hasn’t had any meaningful relationship. None compared to the feeling he’d had with his high school sweetheart. What he didn’t know was his best friend Marco made moves on her in a way she didn’t approve of. He’d violated her with threats of hurting Isaac, it’s with that leverage, Marco threatened her to break up and leave Texas or else he’d violate her again and again in ways she couldn’t imagine.

■ RELATIONSHIPS. ■

■ Marco Santos: Isaac and Marco had been best friends since they were kids in Texas. Isaac had always sensed a little jealousy though he assumed he’d grow out of it. The two of them were peas in a pod to this day, they enjoyed their bachelor life and with no hope of a better life Isaac didn’t see any other way.

■ Rosaline Richards: She was his first love, and to this day, no one has ever been able to compare. He knew that the girl who he fell in love with, the innocent, sweet, kind-hearted girl named Rosaline was too good for him.

■ CONNECTIONS. ■

■  Rosaline Richards > Ex-Girlfriend

■  Angelina Como > Friend/Used to babysit her 

■  Jamie Gomez > Bartender at Moonlight

Isaac Abrigo is a TAKEN character and is portrayed by Michael Trevino who’s FC is SEMI NEGOTIABLE.

[onelyaaaj]

This has not been proof-read and I don’t care.

I’m only here because I kind of need someone to talk to. But I don’t really want people to know what I’m going through. People just suck sometimes. 

I’m having a hard time. With my friends and with an ex boyfriend. I know...it’s life. But I just wanna let it out somewhere. Somewhere personal for me. So that I can feel a little better, and come back one day and realize that it just takes time to heal. Let’s do it. Post #1. 

I love my friends. But sometimes they can be...I don’t even know what word I’m looking for. They just think about themselves a lot. And hey, I don’t blame them. Maybe I’d be a lot less hurt these days if I did the same thing. One of my friends thought she walked in on me crying yesterday (my eyelash was just bugging me) and almost immediately walked out because she didn’t want to deal with me. We laughed it off because, that’s what I do. One of my friends died this past weekend in a car wreck. Her name was Nique and she was so sweet. I was crying about it last night and another one of my friends told me to stop drinking lol. Cole world. #RIPNique 

The man I love is, complicated. He doesn’t love me back but I think he tries to. Which is, terrible. I ask for simple things. A phone call or a text message to check in with me, but he can’t do that for me. So I decided to break it off for good last night and here we are. I’ve cried a thousand times this year over him and I’m just tired of crying really. I hate the headaches the next morning from crying. My head is actually pounding right now. He was the best and worst love of my life. You ever want something so so so bad, and it’s right there but you just can’t have it? It’s torture. This is torture. I feel sick. I don’t really want to eat. I just want to lay in bed all day and watch The Office or lay in silence. I wonder how long it’ll take me to stop feeling so sad. I always feel so sad. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is probably the worst pain. And trust me, I know what pain is. My anxiety is flaring, per usual. But it’s always the worst after I fight with him...or break up with him. I break up with him every other week, but I know this time it’s for good. I can’t keep doing this to myself, or him. It’s toxic, it’s sad, and it’s unnecessary. 

Sometimes you just have to accept things for what they are man. It hurts so, so bad. Everything hurts. Getting up for work in the mornings, going to work, working, going home, being home, all of it. And it’s OK to hurt. It’s OK to not be OK. And sometimes I forget that. My friends and family don’t allow me to be sad, and I think that’s why I’m so sad all the time inside. I can’t talk about everything that’s bothering me because it’s too bizarre for people. Me talking about my pain is just too bizarre for people. 

I’m an empath. So not only do I carry my own pain, I carry pain from others also. It’s heavy, but I can’t help it. I just feel everything. But I need to focus on feeling this pain that I’m going through right now, so that I can get over it. 

Apart of me is sad because I want my ex to text me and tell me that he loves me and can’t lose me, but then I don’t want him to because it’ll just make it harder for me to move on. And I need to move on. The best thing for me to do is remove him completely from my life and cut off all access. No texts, no Twitter, no Instagram, no e-mail. Just complete silence. I blocked him. But I have a bad habit of unblocking him once I’ve calmed down. I’m not going to do that this time. Maybe we could be friends in 2020. But just not right now. They say it takes 21 days to break a habit. I hope it’s true. My friend told me last night that she didn’t think I was serious this time. Again, my friends aren’t the easiest people to talk to. I want to be healthy again. I’m taking my vitamins and taking care of my business and that’s been helping. But this situation has me really down today. Breakups are like deaths. You’re grieving the loss of a partner. They’re gone from your life and you have to live everyday without them. It’s the worst. I don’t wish heartbreak on my worst enemy. Ugh, my eyes are so puffy right now. I can’t really talk to my mom about this either. She never liked my ex so she doesn’t like talking about him. And I’m not really in the mood to hear, “I told you so.” It’s hard being surrounded by people that do love you, but just can’t hear you. 

I’m very lonely. But I’ve been lonely for some time now. I just deal with it, but the pain has been excruciating lately. I’d never kill myself by the way. I’m far from suicidal. I’m just hurting. Just trying to release. I don’t think I need a partner to feel better, but I think that having someone would make me feel...better. Someone that loves the way I do. I’d really like that. I’ve tried to meet other people this year, but no one has been able to make me feel the way I feel about my ex. He was probably my first love. I thought I’d fallen in love before him, but I’ve never felt like this so...yeah. Again, it’s just hard. I know it’s going to take time and that scares me. How much time? When will this stop hurting so badly?

I do this thing where I feel guilty about being sad. I think about all of the great things I have going on and how blessed I am and I feel so stupid for being sad over men and other shallow stuff. It’s like, girl...people are dying in the world. A mother just lost her daughter, my friend. And here I am crying about being heartbroken. But I need to stop doing that though. It’s OK. It’s OK to be sad over a dumb guy. It’s apart of life and feeling things is OK. Being emotional is OK. I don’t need to feel guilty. I wanna work on that. God I need a therapist...what the fuck. 

I love him. I love him despite the fact that he treats me so poorly. I’ve never felt so small or unimportant by anyone. And I still love him. What is that? How does that even happen? I never thought I’d be that girl. Being in love with a man that does nothing to make her feel special. He’s so clearly not concerned with me, and I just can’t let him go. I guess I hold on to the potential...what I think it could be. But it won’t be. I know he’d be a great father, and he’s such a good human being honestly. He’s just not for me, and that’s OK too. I just wish we would’ve gotten married and had a child together. Lived in a beautiful home and I would have taken such good care of him. I think I’m perfect for him, but I guess I’m not his one. And that’s OK, just a little hard to except sometimes. It’s all very hard to accept. I think I’m going to take a break from social media too. I just need to heal. I just want silence. 

I almost got over him before, and then he kept coming around...calling, texting, emailing, etc. I fell for it again and went back. Look where it got me. I was almost used to not speaking to him everyday, or seeing him, or just being with him at all. Almost. I just have to get back to that. I just have to be strong. But you just get so tired of being strong man. It gets exhausting. Sometimes I just wanna scream my head off and break things and run. No one ever knows. Last night my friends saw me cry for the first time. One of them told me to stop drinking, and the other started talking about herself. I think I said that already in this post but whatever. I’m still hungover and sad so it doesn’t even fucking matter. I have to say, this feels good. I’ve been telling myself that I wanted to get back on Tumblr and do this for some time now. I hope that this can help me get through this a lot faster. I think that seeing my thoughts in front of me is giving me some type of relief or ease. If you’re reading this, if you can relate, I’m sorry. I hope that you can find a way to deal with your pain too. We’ll get through this. 5 years from now none of this will even matter. It’s going to be OK. You’re going to be OK. Stay with me. 

Nel 

[moving-on-moving-forward]

(1/3) Hey m.o.m. sorry about the last ask idk how I didnt realize it was apart of the earlier year stuff. I was hoping you might have advice or just know another blog that has advice on this. Around the end of spring I got out of a really toxic relationship where neither of us were intentionally abusive but because of a lot of things going on she would unintentionally hurt me then Id hurt her back and so on. About a month ago I got into a new relationship and I feel like Im holding back because

(2/3) Im afraid of the pain and hurt from my last relationship plus the other things in life will bleed into this new relationship and Ill somehow end up just hurting my new partner. So whats youre advice on stopping yourself from letting the trauma and abuse in youre past and present from making you toxic or abusive? Sometimes Id say things thatd hurt my ex without realizing why it hurt her or that it even did hurt her so Im worrying alot about that kinda stuff happening again. I have another

(3/3) question kinda tied to that stuff but Im still trying to find the words so for now I wanna ask this. Since its the end of the month whatre some good things that happened this month and or things you did this month that youre proud of? I really appreciate you putting up with all my questions and I hope youre day is going good!!!

You’re good you’re good don’t worry about it. I know I might sound like a broken record but openly communicating with your partner is the most important part of things, and I’ll elaborate on that a little bit. Tell your partner something like “hey, I’ve got a few things I’d like to talk to you about that are important to me” and, if you’re comfortable with it, tell them a little bit about your trauma. Even if you’re not comfortable talking directly about your trauma, Explain that you know you’ve said hurtful things without realizing they’ve been hurtful in the past and let your partner know that you would never intentionally hurt them. Ask them to tell you immediately if you ever cross any lines, and if your partner ever does mention anything pay attention to it and try not to take it as a personal attack if they say that something you did hurt them. If your partner says “what you said was hurtful” instead of trying to jump to defend yourself or panicking, apologize and ask them to explain what made it hurtful/how you can do better in the future. Sometimes it’s little things that you need to say sorry and try not to let it happen again without needing a lengthy conversation, those usually are times when you didn’t know it COULD be hurtful, and that’s not your fault. You still need to acknowledge the other person, but you don’t have to beat yourself up for making a small mistake. Just keep it in mind and in every situation, figure out why it happened. (Don’t like. Constantly stress about it, just try and think a little about what’s caused it.)

It is very very common for people who have been abused to end up terrified that they will be abusive themselves, that fear is probably your worst enemy because it’s stopping you from seeing clearly. Please don’t refer to yourself as abusive too casually, if you’re worried about it that means you are actively trying to be a better person. as long as you genuinely care about your partner and are willing to listen to them then you are NOT abusive (assuming this isn’t talking about physical abuse at all). Everyone has faults and it’s almost impossible to live life without ever hurting anyone, even the people you love. Abuse comes from either corrupt intentions or a really bad lack in communication. Communication is a two way street, you need to be honest and open minded about your own flaws but also you need to listen to the other person. It’s easier said than done but you really need to push your anxiety aside and not let fear control your life, if you’re constantly afraid of what might happen you’ll lose the good things that are happening.

Don’t try to hide your flaws, find out what they are and try to work with your partner to overcome them. You are not alone in your relationship, the other person is there for you and cares about you. They want you to be happy and they want you to feel comfortable in your relationship. Be honest, talk about things when they happen, talk about it when you’re feeling worried, and when something is resolved let it be resolved. Don’t keep beating yourself up for something you’ve been forgiven for. Love doesn’t keep an invisible tally of “times I’ve been hurt” that will stack up against you like some kind of record. The past is in the past, and the present is what’s happening now. Keep doing your best to move forward and know that even if you aren’t perfect you can still be a good person. Everyone can always learn to be a better person, there’s always ways to improve. Instead of focusing on the fact that you aren’t perfect, focus on how you can be a better person and that you can improve.

Accepting that you have pain and that the pain affects you is important. Being open that it exists and acknowledging it when it comes up will keep it from being a problem. If it’s getting really out of hand and you’re hurting your partner beyond just small things, get a third party involved (a close mutual friend, someone’s trusted family, therapist, etc.) and try to find the source of the problem. And if you can’t resolve it then let the relationship go, take some time to yourself to be on your own and wait until you feel ready. If you have it stuck in your head that you can’t do something, that feeling will hold you back. You can have a happy, healthy relationship. You can be a good person in that relationship. You can have a happy life. Those are all things that are true, don’t forget that.

To answer your last question, some good things that have happened to me this month are that I’ve made some new friends and I’ve gotten back into making art again, I’d been going through a pretty bad art block so I’m really glad to finally be finding my motivation again.

I hope you also have a great day!! And I hope you feel a little more confisdent in your relationship soon

[livingfictionsystem]

August 4th-5th, 2020.

I’d been out at the new apartment, trying to get my power sorted, when I saw the texts that made my stomach drop. Shaking, I rang Asra. Asra had been appalled before when I’d spoken about the dog-piling three or four against one that had been done to me before, and told me to call them if the household ever tried to pull this again. In fact, they said they would drive here and protect me, if need be. “I’m scared to go home,” I’d blurted.

I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t be harassed until my mind went blank and I was forced to apologise and beg for any sort of mercy.

Asra called Arkady, then called me back. “Hey, he’s upset, but he says he’s going to try not to yell at you. I spoke to Ash and they said they would try to rein him in a bit. It’s just one talk, then you all can move into different apartments and try to cool down for a while.”

I stared. There was a storm brewing overhead. A plastic bag did cartwheels in front of me as the wind whipped around my tense body. Somehow, a situation that was ‘unacceptable’ months before was turned into, ‘The household gets a little yell at Xanthe. As a treat.’

I shivered.

I’d tried to take a break away from Facebook for a few weeks. It was my most accurate mirror I could find, and it was becoming depressing to look at. I hadn’t reached out to many. And now, even someone who knew about the situation was fine with me being the sacrificial lamb for this crowd to get their pound of flesh.

The existential crisis that had been in my mind like a powder keg kept weighing on me. I remember I had theorized that perhaps if all of my friends were Neb’s characters, I likely was too. But why did she create me? What was I based off of?

Spoiler alert: As I’d said before, Neb was heavily into Black Butler and The Infernal Devices series at the time of my creation. But in this state, I was horrified by the coincidence that April had had a British blonde boyfriend by the name of Dante. What if she based me off that boy?

Vex would point out later on that I met April before even hearing of Dante. But this thought was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It’s what drove me over the edge. I’d tried to soothe my brain with wine, but it was practically screaming with an entire existential crisis and I couldn’t shut it up.

I booted up my laptop, went on Facebook Live. My laptop has an issue where it doesn’t like to let me filter down my audience the first time around, so at first I tried to go into my private FB group for mental illness, called Coping.

I actually don’t remember what I said on that one. I just knew that my audience wasn’t big enough. No, no, that wouldn’t do at all. I felt crazy, didn’t know who was real and who wasn’t, I’d been isolated far too long– fuck it, I’d just go public. I was too tired of screaming in my own head not to need a least a classroom’s worth of people around me.

As I was waiting for the broadcast to go through, I couldn’t help but notice I wasn’t alone in my room. Xhaxhollari, who I’d pointedly ignored these past couple of months, was seated on my bed. His wings were folded and he regarded me with a stony expression. Vex was seated on the floor, at the foot of my desk. “Good. You need witnesses,” Vex murmured, with a side-eye to the door.

I shook my head at her and opened my phone. Another text from Arkady. “You forgot to mention Gaslamp,” it said.

Oh, yes. The pack mentality that I gave a name. It reminded me so much of my ex that I thought she was following me. As it turned out, my housemate actually went to her. I was right about everything except the magic portion. I wasn’t trying to start with that, but–

“I need this to end somehow,” I whispered. “I can’t take any more of this.”

“You must endure.” Xhaxhollari, unlike Vex, made no effort to keep his voice down. “It’s clear there is something wrong. What if it targets Arkady next? You know he can’t survive this.”

I chewed on the ends of my fingers. “Even if we’re right, there’s nothing I can do if everyone hates me. And why am I still seeing Mx. Be Not Afraid over there? I integrated that angel!”

Yet that fucker was still over my shoulder, smirking, living its best life without going dormant.

I glanced at the broadcast as footsteps approached. It hadn’t started yet. Did I forget to push a button? Vex fiddled with the mouse a bit, crouching between myself and the door. I think I was already talking at this point– discussing the odd instances where Arkady had yelled at me and hadn’t seemed to remember it, how the house seemed obsessed with accommodating and defending certain people and mistreating others, how they weren’t like this before they met March–

I don’t remember if he knocked or not, but suddenly, Arkady. “Xanthe, come here. We’re having this talk. Now.”

Vex shook her head.

“I don’t want to.” I replied. “And I’m not even sober.”

“When are you sober, Xanthe?”

Ever not pay attention and have autism just auto-fill your next reply? Because uh. “Before 7pm.” A little rule I’d invented for myself. I was so proud.

“Mm. Yes, nice snark, there.”

“I was being literal.”

“I can tell the difference between your literal tone and your snark. Come downstairs, we’re talking.” His voice was icy cold, lacking in any sort of warmth and compassion. It used to sing me to sleep. It used to give me enough ‘I love you’s’ to last the weekend. It used to tell me about how it couldn’t live without me. It used to be my favourite song. And now it just sounded like an angry, violent stranger. He used to know me, and now he couldn’t even tell my tones apart.

“I don’t want to.”

Again, my memory blurs. I still have video proof on my FB, but trauma has made it difficult to bring it up again. I think it was full of him trying to get me into another intervention and myself refusing. I think it’s at this point where he told me, “We’re having this talk or I’m telling all of your Facebook followers when your birthday actually is.”

“You’re blackmailing me?” My voice sounded wooden. Vex narrowed her eyes, then looked at me in alarm. Something was going through its death-throes in my soul, and it wasn’t me. I thought it had been, for months. It’d been dying since the month of March. I had thought it was me, I felt it so keenly. Maybe this night would finally kill me. I would disappear into this brain as Neb did, finally be at peace. But at this blackmail, I felt a brief pain, as if the mortal blow had just landed, then… nothing. I felt an odd sort of detachment, as if the world around me were a nightmare.

He said some sort of reply. But I turned to my broadcast. I never could behave well enough to be properly blackmailed. “Yes, my body was born on August 25th, 1993. I’ve never used that birthday because I felt like a walk-in soul. I’ve only had this body since about 2013.” In the background, Arkady was screaming ‘Lies, lies, LIES!’ through the door. I continued on. “I don’t know what’s going on. There’s a lot of friends that I’ve had that are apparently fictional, like me, and I don’t know what’s real or not.” I rambled afterwards. I rambled about my paranoia over Zara, how everyone seemed offended that I didn’t want company over for half of each week with no notice and leaving a sprinkling of empty energy drink cans and a cloud of weed scent wherever she staggered. I discussed how toxic March was when he first moved in, about how he seemed to turn Ash from someone who cared deeply for Arkady to someone that would rather have sex with March for eight hours. Whoever just died in me, it was like I was breathlessly telling their tale of betrayal and how they met their fate.

At this point, Arkady was screaming, ‘Asra says to get off Live! Get off Live! Get off Live! Get off Live RIGHT now.’ He kept screaming. What would happen if I got off Live? What would he do?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to express that I didn’t know. He was still screaming.

I went non-verbal. I didn’t know how to make it stop.

I picked up some sort of holiday card, flipped it to the blank side, and wrote the only phrase I could express, and held it up for the camera.

I’M SCARED

He finally left. A friend, who had witnessed the exchange, texted me an offer to pick me up for the night, just to make me feel safe. Which, I decided was probably for the best, as Arkady was shouting, “Are you FUCKING kidding me?” downstairs.

Vex gathered a bag for me. In low tones, she coached me on where everyone in the house was, informing me I had a clear path to the cars outside. Together, we ran outside.

I vaguely remember hugging my friend’s friend. “You didn’t even seem to be talking shit?” She reassured me. “You just seemed to be… venting.” I remember shakily rambling about how it’d gone too far this time, stunned that this had even happened. The rest of the night occurred in a disassociated blur. I’d rescued my box of Franzia, intending to nurse that for the rest of the night. Upon noting this, my friend joked that I was a ‘high-functioning alcoholic.’ And you know, after six months of balancing on eggshells, it wasn’t far from exaggerative.

My friend received a text from March, detailing either lies or things the rest of the household used to endorse. He even mocked me for thinking Oscar Wilde may have been a past life. Which, was not only something that Arkady had suggested, but something March’s toxic ex had already went for. Funny, how one can become one’s worst enemy. Everything else had been a lie.

(So, addressing those one at a time… I never said March was possessed by a demon. I said that he had a cult-like effect about him, that reminded me of my ex, April, that made people seem to act possessed in their hyper-defense of him. And yes, I think my past-life is Oscar Wilde. I’m spiritual, and Wilde and I have gone through a lot of the same things. He just happens to be a Libra. It was actually Arkady who had told me that Oscar was a past life. Everyone else in the house endorsed it– Oscar would later become an ‘introject’ alter. Only one other person has used my past-life belief against me, and it’s someone who March calls abusive. I assume he’s too dim to catch the irony, there. Arkady and I hadn’t broken up yet. He dumped me in July. I posted those photos, likely about a dozen of them, in early June. They were still fond memories, and I didn’t feel like taking them down yet. Arkady had told me I was allowed to tell him ‘I love you’ in different ways. ‘On Vis Och’ was a line in a book that meant, ‘A good end and a new beginning.’ I hadn’t realised it made him uncomfortable, and stopped once I realised it had. I didn’t write handwritten notes to him in his room. I left them for Visarden, his alter? Past-life? Who told me our relationship was still there. About me using wine to loosen him up– Never happened. That’s not even a misunderstanding, it’s a goddamned lie. Once, Arkady had told me that I just ‘needed to buy him wine’ to get him in the mood. I didn’t take him up on that offer, but would occasionally do so as a gift, when I would stock up on my own supply. He also didn’t come out as grey ace until after we’d stopped sleeping together.)

(“I’m done speaking out against Xanthe” is probably the funniest joke March has ever told. Note that he wasn’t warning my friend. That abusive ex? Yes, was a prick. He tried to make me seem crazy by mocking my past-life. Sound familiar? It should.)

My friend offered me a stim toy and I slept a nice, drunken sleep on their apartment couch that night. The next day, I was still disassociated. I felt mostly numb and detached from reality. I kept having to ask my friend to repeat conversations. Especially after a text I’d gotten from Asra, saying I was cut off from them for publicly complaining about the round after round of hen-pecking. They took me to a walk around the river, helped me pick up some of AJ’s things they’d sent via the train. Then it was time to go back. My friend only lived in a shared apartment with a roommate, after all. And I hadn’t brought enough to stay extra days.

I updated a status, clarifying that Arkady was not beating me, and likely never would. I made the Lives private. I genuinely did not want anyone harassing him.

My plan was simple. Run in, lay AJ’s things in the public space, then go to my room. I would spend the next two weeks until my move-in date avoiding my housemates, packing, and minding my own business. They had other plans.

I came back to all doors locked. My house key could never undo the deadbolts, so I had to call Ash.

Then they confronted me. The very scenario I had been trying to avoid, but this time, they had more ammunition. They’d read my journals in my absence, leafing through them as if they had been studying for a test. This was the second offense of reading my journals. The first, being much more mild, something they said they regretted.

I have to say, I disassociated through a lot of the discussion. I was apparently talking, apologising, say that I meant my apology. I remember only snippets.

Apparently, Arkady was meant to stay away from the conversation, but came back up. “No, I’m not even scared.” He said, taking in my shaking form in the doorway. “This is just funny to me. This is like a soap opera, it’s just funny now. No, I want to watch.”

Me, falling into his arms out of the moving van. Dancing in the rain. Him comforting me after a nightmare. Him, in a rage, after my mother threatened to abandon me through top surgery. He, who sang me a sweet song of mourning after my bird had died. He, who taught me how to cry after so long not knowing how. It had to have been a different person who thought my fear was funny.

“You said you wanted us to help each other heal!” Arkady went on, in a tone filled with such disgust that one would think I’d confessed to drugging his cat for fun. “Is that how you see me? Is that what you think I’m for?”

“It’s just a joke. “Xhax’s voice was clear in my head, high in wonderment.

It was then March’s turn to throw something at me. “After I had gotten fired from Lori’s, you said that you fell asleep with a smile on your face and a song in your heart!”

Actually, I thought, that was after you’d freaked out that you mispronounced the word ‘ambivalent‘ and made it a Whole episode.

“These people aren’t interested in facts. It’s the narrative they want.” I glanced at Xhaxhollari. Clearly, the household couldn’t see him.

I just said I was sorry. The words were hollow on my tongue. There was an expectation that they should be otherwise, but I’m not sure how any of the four of us reached that conclusion. I was also aware that they were giving me two days to find other arrangements. I’d had nowhere else to go, but that clearly wasn’t their problem.

“You can get a hotel,” Arkady informed me icily.

“For two weeks?” Sure, I had a discount through Hilton, but it was based on availability. And they all decided to do this just as RIT students were coming through and looking to quarantine.

Obviously, I was lying about something. Arkady seemed sure of it. “You told me,” Arkady began, spitting the words like an accusation. I think he may have even been pointing at me. “That you got a discount from Hilton that would make any reservation 35 a night! It would be less than six hundred dollars. You can do that.”

I think I just stared at him for that. Even if I were to open my app and show him, he’d likely never be convinced. He had his narrative, what more did he need?

Then there was a barrage of how I’d ‘brought Gaslamp into the house.’ “No. My ex made me believe that. I shouldn’t have passed it onto the rest of you, but I was fooled too. I’m sorry I was the first.” I actually can’t picture my tone here. Was I even the one speaking? I don’t know. I only know I said that last part because March repeated it mockingly back at me.

“‘Oh, I’m sorry I was the first!'” March would make a bad actor. I’d always thought that. I was suddenly caught on the airy, patronizing quality of his voice. He really only had one tone of voice, and I could only describe it as a ‘Your bra-strap is showing’ sort of tone. “See, they’re just making themselves into a victim again! You’re doing it again, Xanthe, and we’re wise to all of your manipulation. And apparently you thought that I put Ash into a ‘Hostage situation’ by threatening to kill myself over the phone for hours when they were on vacation? I was having a breakdown, Xanthe!”

“Your pain is a joke. Your privacy is a joke. A soap opera.” I didn’t see Xhaxhollari’s point just then, but he was still talking at my side. His voice sounded calm, but his wings were arched and tense.

I remember them surrounding me and repeating again and again, as if chanting that I was the abuser was enough to overwrite my memories saying otherwise. They may as well try again, it’d worked before. It was this odd narrative that everything that March had ever done could never be abuse. He had a break down, he had a PTSD flashback, he needed help, and I heartlessly labeled his actions abusive. Meanwhile, my own PTSD was manipulation, my breakdowns were abuse, and who needs support when they could just tell me over and over again that I’m awful?

Ash spoke up, finally. “I ‘think I’m an Unseelie king’? Why did you tell Asra that, other than to damage my relationship with them?”

March chimed in. “Yeah, you have to stop talking about our worlds, Xanthe!”

I winced. I actually did feel real shame over that. I probably would’ve felt more if my conversation in confidence hadn’t been shared. But how else to reach out about the fact that these people assured me that my friends were real? For what reason? Their own validation?

Why were they so intent on suddenly dismissing a reality they’d once endorsed?

March was still talking. “And I have PTSD, too, Xanthe. C-PTSD, in fact!”

“Your enemy is a joke.” Xhax continued.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. March’s voice sounded just so pompous. My voice carried on, distantly. I couldn’t tell what it was doing. The last twenty minutes of that conversation are lost to me. In fact, most of that night is lost to me. I know I didn’t drink any more wine.

I remember calling Cotton. I remember calling Kaspar. I remember texting my father. Cotton reassured me that he’d known me for much longer than my household, and had never considered me manipulative. He’d been there for April’s fake possession, her fake seizures, her faked blindness. Kaspar, who was distressed at having known none of this prior to that night, saying how these people wouldn’t stand a chance if I had manipulated them. My dad, saying how my housemates were in the wrong for having read my journals again.

Again.

Again.

It was sinking in.

They’d done it again.

The quotes they’d used, it was all from my journals. More than one. That thought seemed to bleed through in my sleep, to the point where the violation was all that was on my mind the day aft.

It’d turned to daylight. I posted to Facebook, filtering out the cult that’d formed under my roof, “They went through my fucking journals.”

Not even a half hour later, March was outside my door. “We see you playing the victim, Xanthe. You tried to hide from Ash, but it didn’t work. Also, Asra knows how you really now. We told them everything.”

I was frozen in my room. Vex, who had refused to leave my side since last night, cursed under her breath, and began to pack a bag. “If they really knew everything, then what are they doing standing for this shit?” She growled.

Good question.

March, who claimed not to be the problem but was very much proving to be the instigator, continued to gripe to Ash. “They apologise to our face but then go behind our backs to bitch to Facebook! Apparently, this is all our faults! First they blame Zara, then Seven, and now me again!”

March was playing music from his room, blasting petty break-up songs and what seemed to be Onision’s breakdown. (I think they were attempting to make some sort of comparison?)

My therapist was on the phone with me in what seemed like minutes later. I only remember one part of that conversation. “They went through your fucking journals, Xanthe! And used it against you! You can’t stay another night in that house! Who cares if your friends are real? If they’re not the ones mistreating you, call them!”

Vex was very pointedly packing my journals into my suitcase. I reached for my pendant– it symbolized my heart, but it’d broken earlier this year. I hadn’t yet fixed it; it seemed odd to me to pretend that my heart wasn’t broken.

Xhax’s hand covered mine as I reached for the watch. “Not yet. You need protection, not your heart. Your heart is what’s gotten you into this mess.” He slid my clockwork angel pendant into my palm.

It was from the Infernal Devices series. Ithuriel, the angel, was trapped in a clockwork pendant the protagonist always wore. It was meant to protect her. I’d bought it recently to feel safe.

I stared at him. “I thought you were wanting me to sacrifice myself to save Arkady?”

He shook his head. “You did what you could. He just isn’t there right now. Any more selfless, you won’t have any more self left to lose.”

I slipped the pendant over my head, made my reservation for Collegetown’s Hilton, then fled. When I got to my room, I collapsed on my bed, wanting to sob and–

Just as before I’d met Arkady… no tears came.

I was fictional again.