#which raises the terrifying possibility that it's all social and there is a future in which we annihilate misogyny

[antiquery]

beginning to think the right wingers have a point about keeping drag away from kids— not because it's too sexual (it's generally not) or because kids shouldn't know that people can be trans (they aggressively should), but because eighth graders armed with drag slang are nuclear levels of annoying

[robertreich]

Socialism Fear-mongering is Bananas 

Don't get scared. I'm going to talk about something that’s caused a lot of fear mongering.

You see, advanced countries, like the United States, pool resources for the common good. How? Well, governments enact taxes and then spend that money on things that benefit everyone. Think of national defense, schools, highways, healthcare, unemployment insurance — basically government spending that protects the well-being of the people.

But since some folk, like your conservative Uncle Bob, think ANY pooling of resources for the common good is…socialism.

And since socialism is apparently so terrifying…

I'm going to use a different word to describe this taxing of individuals for the common good.  Let’s use.. I don't know.. How about…Banana! That's not scary, right? 

Great. So, there are essentially three purposes for which governments banana.

First, social insurance against the possibilities of misfortune and neediness, such as unemployment, poor health, disability, and so on.

Second, public goods that we all benefit from, such as parks, highways, public health, and national defense.

Third, public investment in our future, such as basic research, education, and efforts to address pollution and the climate crisis.

Whether we’re talking about Sweden, Spain, or Slovenia or the United States — all countries in capitalist economies banana to benefit the common good.

And bananing is how societies grow their economies, become more prosperous, and ensure a better life for their people.

It’s also how countries aid people in hard times — or when emergencies arise, like a global pandemic.

To simply call any government banana’ing “socialism...”  Oops, sorry I used the word.…Well it distorts our ability to think through how we banana and what we banana on.

And, it ignores the fact that the United States bananas LESS than most developed nations.

We’re among the worst when it comes to bananaing to reduce poverty, especially child poverty.

And pandemic aside, we banana less on unemployment insurance than nearly every other country.

Of course these countries generally have higher taxes than the United States to support all their bananing.

But they get more in return — better jobless benefits, better health care outcomes, debt-free education, more support for child care and elder care, and more generous retirement benefits.

And we could banana a lot more without having to raise taxes on middle or low-income Americans if the rich paid their fair share. Unfortunately, the tax code in the U.S. has been rigged so that the rich and powerful often skirt what they owe and get away with lower tax rates than regular people.

And the rich have done such a good job convincing people that any increase in banana’ing would be… you know, that S word ... that we just accept things as they are.

The only banana’ing they don’t seem to mind is on the military, where we banana more than the countries with the next 10 biggest militaries combined. That’s bananas!

All of this is a major reason why America has such staggering levels of inequality and poverty.

Whether bananing is “socialism” or not is a useless argument. Every country bananas. Capitalism requires banana’ing to ensure a degree of fairness and stability.  

So the next time your Uncle Bob decries any pooling of private resources for the common good — or bananaing — as “socialism”... share this video with him.  

And give him a banana.

[1-up-chump]

X-men oc: Metamorpher

Name: Dawn Palmer

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 24

Orientation: bisexual, non-binary

Abilities: can alter any organic material into another form of organic material. Later mastery can transform inorganic material.

Weakness: cannot alter energy and must be in contact with the material in some way, cannot create or destroy material.

(Backstory under cut)

Background: Dawn Palmer was born into a family of scientists, their parents are geneticists who dedicated their lives to studying evolution. Dawn's x-gene was activated at age 9, to which they were subjected to experimentation by their parents to control or remove their abilities. Who were well meaning but curious more than fearful. Due to the nature of their situation, governmental powers had placed dawn under extreme and excruciating experimentation. To cope with the trauma, dawn developed DID (dissociative identity disorder) and created two personalities.

The aggressive personality (Dusk) is protective of dawn's emotional well being and takes charge to "take the full brunt" of abusive situations. This personality takes the form of a shadowy unicorn mare, due to dawn's love of fantasy literature and animals. Especially horses and dragons

The logical personality (Twilite) protects dawn in stressful social situations, detaching themselves enough to talk their way out of a situation and prevent future altercations. This personality takes the form of a man-bird hybrid knight.

Dawn was raised to believe that mutation was "nature's mistake" and that humans were not ment to evolve at such an alarming rate. Although dawn's true feelings on the matter are complicated, as they believe mutation is a gift as much as it's a curse. They wish to not cure every mutant, but the one's who develop self destructive abilities. This view was solidified after a fellow childhood friend (who was also experimented on) died from their own mutation from lack of control.

Dawn is terrified with their ability to alter life, they can transform plants and smaller animal life. But anything larger than a rat or small bird causes them to panic and transform it into a fleshy abomination. This stems from their fear of their own mutation and trauma of getting electrocuted by involuntarily using their abilities. They now must heavily focus to use their powers at all for even a simple alteration

The mental block of being able to use their powers more efficiently is due to Dusk's interference. And as such, Dusk or Twilite can better use Dawn's mutant powers if needed. But only see fit to use them to protect Dawn's wellbeing.

Alliance: The brotherhood of mutants

On a fateful day, the facility where Dawn and their father was working on "The mutant cure" was attacked. The x-men initially tried to stop the cure while also preventing the brotherhood from killing innocent lives. By this point Dawn was one of the first batch of mutants "successfully cured" and was amongst the scientists trying to escape. Another scientist was jealous of Dawn and thus tried to leave them behind for dead, Dawn struggled and was almost killed until their mutation reactivated. Turning the man entirely in blood as it cascaded onto Dawn along with his soaked labcoat.

Dawn could not remember much else from that day except that when they looked up to see Magneto, his eyes were full of pity, and took them in. Sensing that now they had no choice but to follow Magneto, Dawn stayed by his side (much to the reluctance of their alters) and since then have been gaining more mastery over their abilities. Preferring to simply study and stay behind when possible.

Dawn does not trust Professor Xavier due to him being a telepath, as both Dusk and Twilite prevent him from reading their mind. With two strong wills even Xavier has trouble reading Dawn, and thusly gives them time to eventually come around. As he senses the good nature in Dawn, and even the possibility that perhaps they could reach Magneto in ways Xavier could not. As somberly the thought is to him.

Dawn has a distrust and disdain for telepaths in general, feeling them to be naturally manipulative and controlling. Or rather it was what they were told of via rumors. Despite their kind, almost timid nature, they have great trust issues. Exacerbated by Dusk, mostly.

[mrfancyfoot]

Raphael x Evie (f!OC) | Fic Rating: E/Varied | Chapter 1 on AO3

I couldn't resist the mix of culture clash and potential for flirty fun! This one is mostly fluff but may have a part 2 or more in the future. ;)

.

Chapter 9: Fox Tail Things begin to take a bit of a turn as Raphael thinks Evie is flirting with him.

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Ch. Rating: M-ish / NSFW-ish Ch. Word Count: 881 Ch. Tags: POV Raphael; (Unintentional vs Intentional) Tail Flirting; Culture Clash; Raphael is Not the Most Reliable Narrator; Character Analysis-ish Ch. Warnings: Evie might be new to her tail but she’s also not (neuro)typical and that’s made a bit more evident in this chapter through an outsider’s (Raphael’s) unfamiliar perspective; Raphael’s Enormous Ego that doesn't even consider the possibility of Evie not being interested in that way

.

Read under the cut or on AO3-

Did she know?

It rose and curled behind her, now lazily swaying from side to side.

A novel behavior from the fox.

Were this any other mortal before him, he would presume it to be purposeful.  A coquettish play to charm, persuade, or signal availability to the handsome devil before them.

He supposed that he had to remind himself that, though she had a tail, she was no devil nor tiefling…but human.  Ish.

The fox did not have-  Could she?  She had said herself there were none but humans in her yester-world.  No.  She did not have the cultural knowledge nor social conditioning to know what she was doing was considered flirtatious at its most innocent and outright propositional at its most indecent.

Yet that did not mean there wasn’t any deeper…instinct behind it.

Which led to-  Whether or not she knew, was there an instinctive or unconscious cause for her behavior?

In the mere spark of time spent following this mote - nearly the same length of time she’d had the fluffy appendage - there had been an escalation in her behavior from a reserved, neutral carry to animated expression reflecting whatever excited or in cited her.  All in thanks to his tireless efforts to draw out her trust and get her to open up to him.

The addition of the ears added a somewhat helpful dimension: even a careful mask was rendered ineffective when one did not know how or to alter expressions and signals from…newer extensions of their anatomy.  This, however, did have the frustrating side effect of furthering incongruencies in her behaviors.

Was their discussion of tea truly that exciting?  Was it meant to signal approval?

How much was influenced by the canine nature of her Aspect?

It was not an unfounded assumption to believe there was within her a vixen on the hunt that identified him as desirable.

A curious new degree of separation from the vampire spawn now existed - mum as Evie was of it.  A flame snuffed as quickly as it was lit!  A lonely spirit seeking a replacement for lost carnal companionship?

He had not initially bothered with more sensual seduction tactics, preferring her to focus on forging such a relationship with a curated few to suit the future.  Even if those involved insisted on going off script.  Whatever had changed between them, the spawn remained clung to her, terrified to lose that little beacon of light in his life.

Which still worked perfectly in his favor.

There was no longer any reason he saw not to sway her in such a manner.  Should he prove successful - and perhaps that was a better means by which to convince her to sign away her soul - the Hero would be that much further under his claw.

And he was growing so fond of the little fox.

.

.

It was safe to say that the fox did not recognise his own deliberate signals in response to her less-than-deliberate tail flirting.

The next time she raised and flicked and swayed her tail so invitingly while they were seated in conversation, he caught it within his own, coiling around it securely in a manner that should have been nigh impossible to dismiss out of hand.  An open acceptance of what she was offering!

Evie stopped mid-sentence, gesturing hands frozen, and looked down, her face scrunching in confusion as she stared.  After a few beats, she reached down and deftly yanked her tail from his, only to stuff it under her leg.  “Sorry, if I was distracting,” was all she said before clasping her hands together and relaunching into her prior discussion point seemingly without another thought about it.

It was so completely the wrong conclusion to draw, that he found himself in a rare moment - though these were becoming disconcertingly more common wherever she was involved - without words as he studied her for a fracture, a crack that indicated this was a bluff, a trick, a trial.  A hidden smile, a flush of lust, the musk of arousal, desire hungering her gaze, a retreating grimace of shame from the yearn of forbidden fruit - anything.

But to what end would it serve her to play coy?  To rile him?  To cause him to pursue harder?  It was customary for women to feign disinterest, after all - to turn away even a person of interest possibly numerous times before accepting their attentions.  There were whole contrived social conventions around such inane behaviors and the taboo of appearing too eager for the attentions of another.  Was he not already chasing the fox?  Having his offers of salvation rebuffed time and again?

After further reflection, he concluded dear Evie was genuinely ignorant in her singalling of an unconscious attraction.

What fun there was to be had with that!

Another facet to this challenge of winning over her soul.

Following her amusingly hostile reactions to Haarlep crassly propositioning her on more than one occasion, he was reluctant to escalate in this moment.  It was advantageous to allow her to continue to draw distinctions between him and the incubus, to see him as a safe and trustworthy presence.  Thus he bit his tongue and played the perfect gentleman devil as he patiently stalked his prey.

Perhaps he would be the one with a spoiled pet by the conclusion of this all.

Thanks for reading!

[alchemisoul]

Why do I suffer so?

That's a broad question. A vague question. But an ever-relevant question.

Have you brought it upon yourself or has it manifested upon you in an unsolicited and unwarranted manner? In my experience, it's been a mixture of both. Often the suffering we bring upon ourselves is the most unnecessary aside from that which we bring onto others which is the most regrettable.

Suffering is relative.

We should examine suffering in the same way we would differentiate between absolute and relative poverty. We should first consider the sort of suffering that those who, for example, were raised in the global north in the western hemisphere on either side of the Atlantic in the late 20th century - Present as compared to every other human who has ever existed before us or is currently living elsewhere and enduring different struggles. COVID was but a taste of the struggles others deal with every day, all the time. It cannot be understated how sheltered and spoiled we are compared to those who came before us and those whose location and experiences today are not that of our own. See the average lifespan expectancy of humans in 1900 compared to those in 1950, and again with those in Present-day in the United States alone for a bit of perspective.

Some suffering is a necessary and a part of life. Sometimes personal, self-inflicted, suffering makes us stronger and conditions us to bend but not break. Sometimes it's unnecessary and we suffer from things outside of our control at the hands of others. Sometimes that makes us stronger as well but the unnecessary and unwarranted suffering through abuse and violence brought onto ourselves and others by others, or that which we bring onto others, is the most intolerable and unforgivable. And this type of suffering is the kind that should keep us up at night.

The Black Mirror anthology (BBC/Netflix) does an amazing job of exploring the potential nightmares of what sort of suffering is possible via cloning and artificial intelligence in three episodes "White Christmas", "U.S.S Callister", and "Black Museum" (which I wouldn't recommend watching until you’ve watched all of the others). The social commentary and ethical questions posed in those episodes were sometimes overlooked or not always taken seriously as they should be. They are, again, ever-relevant. And I've thought about them quite a bit.

I bring this up to emphasize how the ability and capacity to experience suffering is arguably the most intuitive and compelling power we have for gaging what it is real. You may hear people say that time and space or our reality at large, for example, is an illusion - and you might even hear them expand on this with some salient points to demonstrate the soundness and deepness of these arguments. And maybe in some sense, these are true statements.

And yet there is nothing more real, no greater proof of reality, than the pain endured in the moment of suffering. Time is never more eternal than it is within the moment of suffering. And because anyone who has truly suffered, intuitively understands this to be true - we should give a bazillion fucks about the suffering of others and for the suffering of any and all sentient beings.

The Turing test is used to gage the capacity of a machine to exhibit equivalent to, or indistinguishable, intelligence of that of a human. "The Enduring Test", as I would have it, would measure a digital clone or replicants, capacity for suffering to an equal or indistinguishable extent as humans or biological lifeforms generally speaking.

At that point, we should give as many fucks about the suffering of artificial intelligence as we do for our own and should for that of others - the thought of crossing this technological Rubicon and for that possibility to be crystallized into reality should be absolutely terrifying to anyone with a pulse and a spine.

What good comes from, for what purpose is there, suffering? The only utility I can offer you is the idea that enduring suffering and seeking to avoid future suffering triggers what Colin Wilson refers to as "the peak experience". In these moments, we become most alive and are awoken out of the "robot" programming and cultural sedation that comes with a life where the core elements of survival are in many ways taken care of for us.

The generations preceding us had less and less time to suffer from the worries that plague us today. They had to find food, water, and shelter and avoid rival tribes and empires coming to sack their cities and forcing them to submit to worshiping a new God, renouncing their old ones, or be burned at a stake - or forcing them into slavery or killing the men and raping the women and eventually wiping them off the face of the earth. Conquests didn't begin with Colonialism. Colonialism was Conquests plus Ships. This happened everywhere. Our ancestors had different problems. At the very least, those individuals knew what it was to be fully alive at all times.

[autumnpurpledoor]

Breathes 😤 I feel I need to say this after all my stress in the past 24 hours . I’m quite a person who gets anxious , has adhd , identifies as pansexual/demisexual, and depressed easily as well. My health mentally and physically especially when it comes to infections has always flip flopped back and forth. In recent years Covid affected me and this year alone I visited the ER 3 times . The first visit was my kidney abscess almost 3 cm which I almost passed away from as I had an E. coli infection and complications breathing and puking blood/bile to the point I needed a breathing machine to survive . It was horrible and I’m glad I survived but back in August the second time I visited another infection, third time bowel problems literally only blood coming out trying go number 2 . Now I owe money and I’m scared for the future me and my husband want to share together and bring life to this world to raise and keep safe no matter how they wish to be seen in that life we gifted them . I’m scared to get my IUD removed next year and try for a child with my husband in the future because my medical problems could affect myself during pregnancy and possibly lead to miscarriages like my aunt who has also had complications with her first birth, and her last one being a miscarriage which greatly terrifies me that I may be put in a situation where I can’t get adequate help . I’m scared for my family and loved ones as well that identify with witchcraft / lgbtq+ communities and Native / Mexican communities as both have to fight this battle for freedom always and we've been affected by this administration before . If you’re spending the day trying to make jokes about serious issues that people have to struggle with, please refrain from interacting with me . Me and my husband want to bring a child into this world so badly but with the way things are, we cannot afford it, and I am unable to know about the risks my health may present before it is too late and nothing is done because the law says no actions can occur . Sorry, but on my social media I am standing my ground since I almost passed away in the hospital this year. On a lighter note enjoy this blooming lavender from my garden .

[truck-fump]

Socialism Fear-mongering is Bananas Don’t get scared....

New Post has been published on https://robertreich.org/post/728810956269993985

Socialism Fear-mongering is Bananas Don’t get scared....

Socialism Fear-mongering is Bananas 

Don’t get scared. I’m going to talk about something that’s caused a lot of fear mongering.

You see, advanced countries, like the United States, pool resources for the common good. How? Well, governments enact taxes and then spend that money on things that benefit everyone. Think of national defense, schools, highways, healthcare, unemployment insurance — basically government spending that protects the well-being of the people.

But since some folk, like your conservative Uncle Bob, think ANY pooling of resources for the common good is…socialism.

And since socialism is apparently so terrifying…

I’m going to use a different word to describe this taxing of individuals for the common good.  Let’s use.. I don’t know.. How about…Banana! That’s not scary, right? 

Great. So, there are essentially three purposes for which governments banana.

First, social insurance against the possibilities of misfortune and neediness, such as unemployment, poor health, disability, and so on.

Second, public goods that we all benefit from, such as parks, highways, public health, and national defense.

Third, public investment in our future, such as basic research, education, and efforts to address pollution and the climate crisis.

Whether we’re talking about Sweden, Spain, or Slovenia or the United States — all countries in capitalist economies banana to benefit the common good.

And bananing is how societies grow their economies, become more prosperous, and ensure a better life for their people.

It’s also how countries aid people in hard times — or when emergencies arise, like a global pandemic.

To simply call any government banana’ing “socialism…” 

Oops, sorry I used the word.…Well it distorts our ability to think through how we banana and what we banana on.

And, it ignores the fact that the United States bananas LESS than most developed nations.

We’re among the worst when it comes to bananaing to reduce poverty, especially child poverty.

And pandemic aside, we banana less on unemployment insurance than nearly every other country.

Of course these countries generally have higher taxes than the United States to support all their bananing.

But they get more in return — better jobless benefits, better health care outcomes, debt-free education, more support for child care and elder care, and more generous retirement benefits.

And we could banana a lot more without having to raise taxes on middle or low-income Americans if the rich paid their fair share. Unfortunately, the tax code in the U.S. has been rigged so that the rich and powerful often skirt what they owe and get away with lower tax rates than regular people.

And the rich have done such a good job convincing people that any increase in banana’ing would be… you know, that S word … that we just accept things as they are.

The only banana’ing they don’t seem to mind is on the military, where we banana more than the countries with the next 10 biggest militaries combined. That’s bananas!

All of this is a major reason why America has such staggering levels of inequality and poverty.

Whether bananing is “socialism” or not is a useless argument. Every country bananas. Capitalism requires banana’ing to ensure a degree of fairness and stability.  

So the next time your Uncle Bob decries any pooling of private resources for the common good — or bananaing — as “socialism”… share this video with him.  

And give him a banana.

[alcottshortstories]

Historical Context and Analysis of Marriage in the Six Short Stories Analyzed.

“You make everything subject to marriage. But, what if you don’t get married? Because you must admit the possibility of staying single. Which should not terrify you, because it is not a dishonor. You can be useful to society and to yourselves.” - Louisa May Alcott.

Françoise Bach suggested in his article “ Women’s Rights and The Wrongs of Marriage in Mid-Nineteenth Century America”, “Because of her legal non-existence, she could not sue or be sued, own any property, whether earned or brought into the marriage or have any rights in her children” (Bach 23). The idea of marrying at the time was seen as a merchandise exchange, between the woman’s father and the future husband. They were simply transferred. (M.Lane) 

Besides, women did not have real possibilities to work. By the middle of the 19th century, only 5% of women had access to a job, which also was a hard task because of their lack of education. These ideals, as the foundations of a patriarchal society, are built the different reasons to get married. (M.Lane)

When we take a look at these historical facts, we can see why marriage for convenience was so common. In order to have some financial advantages or perhaps real necessities, both men and women would submit themselves to partake in this type of marriage to raise their economic and social status.  This is the case of ‘Debby's Debut’, ‘Doctor Dorn’s Revenge’, and ‘La Jeune’ short stories. At the beginning of the story ‘Doctor Dorn’s Revenge’, it can be found a convenient marriage as she left Max Dorn because he is a man poor in fortune and friends and marries another man who is rich and who she does not love (John Meredith), whereas in case of ‘Debby’s Debut,’ it is clearly showed this type of marriage between Joe and Debby since her aunt want her to marry a rich man but at the end, she does not marry Joe. 

In the following quote, extracted from ‘Doctor Dorn’s Revenge’ short story, we can see how the protagonist Emily is attracted to John Meredith only because of his fortune, which means that is a convenience love, and later, a convenience marriage: 

John Meredith, a cold, grave man of forty, bore the mark of patrician birth and breeding in every feature, tone, and act. Not handsome, graceful, or gifted, but simply an aristocrat in pride and position as in purse. Men envied, imitated, and feared him; women courted, flattered, and sighed for him; and whomsoever he married would be, in spite of herself, a queen of society.

As she watched him the girl‘s purpose strengthened, for on no one did his eye linger as on herself; every mark of his preference raised her in the estimation of her mates, and already was she beginning to feel the intoxicating power which would be wholly hers if she accepted him. (Doctor Dorn’s Revenge 4).

We can see another example of a convenience marriage in ‘La Jeune’ between Natalie Narnier and the wealthy Florimond, they got married as she did not have a man to support her financially after her family died, but unlike the way, this kind of marriage is represented in ‘Debby’s Debut’, here the man is completely in love with her, and eventually, she ends up appreciating him, but not romantically.

…He was much older than myself, but he has been fond as a father, as faithful, tender and devoted as a lover all these years. I married him from gratitude, not love, yet I have been happy and heart-free till I met Arthur. (La Jeune or Actress and Woman 17).

Another common reason at the time was due to social convictions. Associated with the concepts of the ‘two spheres’ and ‘true womanhood’, women at the time felt pressured and believed that their only purpose in life was to get married, have multiple children, and satisfy their husbands. 

There were also instances where marriage happened for love but when looking at the socioeconomic situation of women at the time, we can infer that most marriages occurred due to the different reasons previously explained. However, this type of marriage is clearly seen in “Perilous Play”, when at first, Mark and Rose try to contend their feelings, but as they begin being affected by the hashish they finally yield. By the end of the story, Rose puts aside her pride and fears and accepts his purpose of being together. This love is inferred on several occasions during the story, even forced to be confessed. 

Besides, this reason appears as well in the following short stories. For instance, in ‘Debby's Debut’ between Debby and Evan and in ‘Doctor Dorn’s Revenge’ between Emily and Doctor Max Dorn, when she realizes that she is really in love with him. However, neither of the couples reach marriage because in ‘Doctor Dorn’s Revenge’ Max Dorn dies as a symbol of revenge, and in ‘Debby’s Debut’, it is not clearly shown that they are going to marry each other although they are in love. In addition to the topic of Revenge in the short story ‘Debby’s Debut’, Debby marries Evan in revenge for her aunt. 

Lastly, on the one hand, we can also find examples of marriage for revenge, in which we can have an act of revenge from the woman to her family because they don’t want her to marry that man, or also we can have the option of revenge from the man to another man or another woman. This is the case presented in the short story “Countess Varazoff”. Irma, the protagonist of the story, endeavors to seduce a proud Russian prince to take revenge on the Russians for destroying her country. She does this by outsmarting the prince and staining his honor forever, given she was the child of a serf. The Prince Czertski emanates the idea of masculine superiority that Alcott’s ideology questioned, he is a dominating man that asserts his position over women, undermining them: “I know your fair and fickle sex too well to trust them till they are won” (CV 28). Yet this will be his fatal mistake, as he is unable to understand Irma’s true intentions. It seems that throughout the story Irma is playing into the role of being a submissive woman, but in reality, she is just as manipulative as he is. Even if Irma is described as a cold and mourning woman, we discover in the end that she is actually in love with her good friend Vane, an Englishman who promises to make public the scandal of the Russian Prince marrying a Polish serf. Although they are in love, Irma must go on with her plan to destroy the prince’s reputation, being the heroine of the story. We can see the contrast between true love and marriage for revenge, and the characteristics of Alcott’s female protagonists, or femme fatales, beautiful courageous women who serve as foils to patriarchal men and reveal the hypocrisy of the mid-19th century society (Brola 107).

When it comes to marriage in 'Pauline’s Passion and Punishment', we can observe two different marriages, all with different points of view. 

Firstly, despite the fact that they never got married, at first, Gilbert promises Pauline to marry her after his trip meaning that, in the beginning, both of them had chosen to marry for love. However, Gilbert ends up marrying Barbara.

We don’t really get a lot of information regarding the relationship of Gilbert and Barbara prior to meeting Pauline and Manuel, but based on his letter alone we can see how for Gilbert this was not only a marriage for convenience, but also potentially an arranged one. 

‘...for though my heart was wholly yours, my hand was not mine to give’ (PPP 5) 

The content of his letter indicates that the choice of whom to marry was never his, to begin with. This insinuates that maybe it was his family pressuring him to marry Barbara, as most families at the time expected their sons to marry women who fit into the ‘true womanhood’ characteristics but also came from a wealthy and respectable family. 

On the other hand, we see that from Barbara’s point of view, it was completely different as she was actually in love with him. Her reasoning for marrying Gilbert might have been just love and nothing else, and we can observe it in the way she is constantly recriminating Gilbert for not loving her at all and even compares him to Manuel the first time they meet.  

“Tired so soon, Babie? Or in a pet because I cannot change myself into a thistledown and float about with you, like Manuel and Pauline?”

“Neither; I was only wishing that you loved me as he loves her, and hoping he would never tire of her, they are so fond and charming now…” (PPP 21)

Even later on, when Manuel gets angry at Gilbert for harming Barbara, she will stop him and defend her husband despite it all. 

“A soft hand at his lips checked the opprobrious word, as Babie, true woman through it all, whispered with a broken sob, “Spare him, for I loved him once.” (PPP 36)

This shows how in a marriage, the reasons behind it can be entirely different for each of the parties involved. The same thing occurs with Pauline and Manuel's marriage. 

Pauline is very clear in her reasoning from the beginning. She wanted to marry for revenge and she needed to marry a wealthy man because she knew that becoming more powerful than Gilbert was a good way to hurt his ego. This is why Manuel was the perfect husband.

“Manuel, I want fortune, rank, splendor, and power; you can give me all these, and a faithful friend beside. I desire to show Gilbert the creature he deserted no longer poor, unknown, unloved, but lifted higher than himself, cherished, honored, applauded, her life one of royal pleasure, herself a happy queen.” (PPP 8)

However, she still acknowledges his feelings for her. She offers her friendship and even hopes that someday she might be able to love him in the same way he loves her.

“You would ask, 'When I have given all that I possess, what do I receive in return?' This—a wife whose friendship is as warm as many a woman's love; a wife who will give you all the heart still left her, and cherish the hope that time may bring a harvest of real affection to repay you for the faithfulness of years; who, though she takes the retribution of a wrong into her hands and executes it in the face of heaven, never will forget the honorable name you give into her keeping or blemish it by any act of hers. I can promise no more. Will this content you, Manuel?” (PPP 8)

Despite the fact that both parties are aware of the ulterior motives behind this marriage, we can also say that it was a marriage for love due to Manuel’s feelings for her and because it was also settled upon the hope that someday she might love him back. However, he seems to be happy just by being with her, despite her feelings for him

“Forgive me! Take all I have—fortune, name, and my poor self; use us as you will, we are proud and happy to be spent for you! No service will be too hard, no trial too long if in the end you learn to love me with one tithe of the affection I have made my life. Do you mean it? Am I to go with you? To be near you always, to call you wife, and know we are each other's until death? What have I ever done to earn a fate like this?” (PPP 8)

[edenfenixblogs]

…

So the thing that’s keeping me awake tonight…

The thing that’s keeping me awake tonight is where to live by the time my baby will start school. Part of me feels it’s stupid to worry about it this early. Assuming I get pregnant right away when I start IUI in 2-3 years (unlikely), that means moving would have to happen by 7 years from now.

However, immigration is logistically HARD and it needs to be planned far in advance. My dilemma is between physical and emotional quality of life.

My financial situation in this country is pretty good. It’ll likely be a lot harder if I move somewhere else. Also, I can work from home with good benefits and a reasonably predictable schedule. Also, very importantly, all my friends and my parents are here. My kid will already only have one parent. I want them to have as much of a support system as possible. I want them to be close to their grandparents. The idea of raising a baby far from my mom is heartbreaking and terrifying. And immigration also means I’d have to find childcare during the days while I work, which is a whole other expense I would not have here. So would school uniforms, which are not much of an expense here.

On the other hand, what if I get sick? What if baby gets sick? Where does the health insurance come from then? What about fucking gun violence? How can I live day to day knowing my kid might get gunned down at their fucking desk? Does anything else really matter when staying here means such a high level of risk for baby? When I get old, will my retirement be enough to avoid burdening baby? Here, social security is drying up, and any and all social safety nets are being gutted. Living somewhere that values social welfare, somewhere I know unexpected health complications won’t ruin my child’s and my financial future is so appealing. So is living somewhere that higher education doesn’t cost as much as a large house in a major city. And if I did stay here, where would I send my kid to school. Even with all the other risks, there’s still the other problems of public v private and the quality of schools in my area.

And if I do move, where would I go? My top two options are Scotland and Canada. I have very feasible paths to visa and citizenship in both places.

Canada is closer and means my family could be a lot more involved in baby’s life. The logistics of moving would be a lot simpler and my career means I’d end up in a pretty liberal province which is great. I do have a family member in Canada, too, which is nice. But I don’t have any particular connection to Canada, emotionally. I think I’d feel more like an outsider there. The cost of living where I’d have to end up is as high as it is where I am now, except I’d have more monthly expenses.

Scotland is very much my speed. A lot of my educational curriculum was from the UK because of IB and also just a randomly tremendous amount of British teachers. I’ve spend substantial amounts of time in the UK and in Scotland specifically. I like how many travel opportunities there are in Scotland: so many countries close by! I think I’d integrate better there. But also, there’s such high levels of antisemitism, but it’s also less likely to be deadly than the antisemitism in America, because fewer guns. The cost of living is more manageable than where I’d have to live in Canada. But maybe that’s selfish of me to consider Scotland when it’s so far away from a support system.

I have a lot of time to figure this all out. But that doesn’t make it any less important or less nerve-wracking. And I resent this country for being such a mess. I wouldn’t have to think about any of this if we just regulated guns and offered healthcare and education like most other countries. I’m so mad.

Do traditional couples or even nontraditional couples think about all this before having a baby? I feel like most Hereros don’t. Idk. I don’t have any answers right now, and probably won’t for awhile. But I needed to type it all out so I can sleep instead of having this all rattling around my head.

Do traditional couples or even nontraditional couples think about all this before having a baby? I feel like most Hereros don’t. Idk. I don’t have any answers right now, and probably won’t for awhile. But I needed to type it all out so I can sleep instead of having this all rattling around my head.

[marvelouslytrekking]

The Escaped Bride {1/?}

Ch 1: The Arrangement

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Summary: An arranged marriage to your childhood best friend isn’t exactly how you imagined it but you also couldn’t say you were too upset to be marrying James Barnes.  Word Count: 1741 Warning: arranged marriage, maybe a swear word? A/N: Alrighty folks so I got this idea in like December and have been working on it since. I have quite a bit of it written and am not longer capable of keeping it to myself. Updates on this probably won’t be very consistent but I have most of it plotted so that might help. Please let me know what you think!! Feedback fuels my soul!

Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

“There is no getting out of this.” Your mother told you sternly. She was not having your fits about the marriage.

“I don’t understand why I can’t choose someone to marry myself!” You huffed.

“This was set up while you were just young. You cannot back out of it now.” Your mother told you, “You two have been inseparable. I don’t know why you are fighting this so much. You aren’t going to find anyone better than James.”

“I want to have a say in my life!”

“Enough of this.” You heard your fathers voice boom from the doorway. It caused you to cringe. “You will marry James, and I will not hear another complaint from you about it.”

“Yes father,” You sighed.

“Now, James is here to see you. You will go, and be civil with him.” He informed you.

You just nodded, walking past your father to go meet James. While you were mad about this marriage, you were excited to see James. Your mother wasn’t wrong, you and James were inseparable. You truly loved James, but you couldn’t stand the idea of having to marry him, and him to not love you. You couldn’t stand the idea that he may one day resent you.

“Hello James,” You smiled, “It’s good to see you.”

“My dear,” He smiled as he saw you walking up to him. “Care to go on a walk?”

“I would love to.” You were relieved at the idea of getting out of your house and away from your parents.

You followed him down a path that the two of you had taken many times. There was an awkward silence that had settled between you. This was the first time you had seen each other since your parents told you the news of what was to happen.

“I have been made aware that you are not exactly happy about this arrangement,” James was finally the one to break the silence and you could hear a small amount of hurt in his voice at the statement.

“I am not thrilled with the idea that my whole life was planned out by someone else,” You told him, “But if I was to be promised to anyone, I guess I am glad it is you.”

James sighed at that. As teens you had spent many days talking of your futures, there was a point where you even talked of marrying each other, but one thing that was always consistent was your anger at watching friends and the older girls in your social circle getting married off without their say.

“I wish it wasn’t being forced on you either,” Bucky admitted, “But I do not care about the fact this was arranged by our parents, I want to marry you. I love you and wouldn’t want to be with anyone but you. If it hadn’t already been in the works, I would be proposing to you myself”

You stopped in place hearing him admit that to you. He stopped as well, turning to you with a look of hope in his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since we were children,” You told him truthfully, “I just couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you if you did not share those feelings. It would have broken my heart.”

“I would never break your heart,” James said with a seriousness in his voice, reaching out and cupping your face in his hands. You place your hands over his, trying to ground yourself so you don’t get lost into the love in his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

He already leaned down, inches away from your lips but he paused, waiting for your answer. When you nodded, he closed the distance quickly, kissing you slowly.

While it may not be the first time you had shared a kiss, this was different, it was slow, meant to translate the love felt between you two. You pulled away with a smile, finding yourself suddenly very excited about being able to get married. Your marriage was now the freedom you craved and not the prison you feared it to be.

“You know the only problem I have with this?” You asked as you continued to walk, now hand in hand.

“What’s that?” James asked you curiously.

“I have to go back there and admit to both mother and father that they were right.” You groaned. You could already see the smug look your mother would have when you suddenly became happy about the ideal marriage. James laughed at your admission. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry love,” He raised his hands in surrender but still had a smile on his face, “I just thought you’d have a critique about me going back to sea or the church or something. I should have known it was just you being as stubborn as ever.

“You’re going back to sea soon?” You asked, suddenly worried he was going to be gone for a while again. You hated that he had joined the Navy, but you had not been able to convince him not to.

“Not until we’re married.” He told you.

“And then you will leave your new wife alone in a big house by herself?” You gave him a frown.

“I am sure she’ll find plenty of things to occupy her time.” He rolled his eyes at you, “I have been working very hard to complete a library for her.”

Your eyes lit up at that. James was always gifting you with books and the idea that he was creating a library for you had your heart swelling. “I guess she’ll survive the time without him.”

You had unfortunately made it back to your house. “See I told you, look at that smug look.” You whispered to James as you saw your mother watching you reenter the house with him.

That was the last you were able to talk to him as you were quickly whisked away after entering the house. Your mother and his were already starting to plan things and they wanted your opinion. It was all very overwhelming but you were at least now wanting this wedding, so you were able to give your opinion much more freely.

This was how the next few weeks went. You would barely be able to sneak a few moments with James before you were swept away for a fitting, or to pick flowers, or to decide on bridesmaid’s dresses. Everything was a whirlwind but you were just happy to know that in only a short time you would be Mrs. Barnes.

You were currently at your final dress fitting. The wedding was just a week away and you couldn’t be more excited to finally be marrying your childhood best friend.

“Excuse me ma’am,” One of the handmaids interrupted, “James is here and he requested to speak with you, he says it’s urgent.”

You frowned at that. You had no idea what he would deem as urgent to interrupt your last fitting.

“We are basically done here.” You told her, “Tell him I just need a moment to change and I will meet him in the drawing room in a moment.”

You took one final look at the dress before quickly signaling for everyone to help you get undressed. You got back into your normal clothes as quickly as you possibly could.

“James, what is it?” You asked as you finally entered the drawing room. He was pacing around the room which only made you more nervous.

“I am so sorry, my love,” James sighed as he walked up to you, “We must postpone the wedding.”

“Why on earth?” Your frown deepened.

“I have to go back out to sea,” He told you.

“You promised you weren’t leaving until after the wedding, James.”

“I know, and I wish I had a choice, I truly do.” The look in his eyes told you he was sincere, “There are pirates threatening a major port that we cannot lose, they need all the help they can get.”

“How long?” You asked.

“Shouldn’t be long at all,” He told you, “I will be back before you know it, and we will then get married and finally be together, I promise.”

“You better come back to me,” You said softly. The idea that he was leaving to fight off pirates left you terrified for his safety.

“I will, I could never leave you.” He leaned down and gave you a brief kiss.

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips.

“I love you too,” He replied “I can’t wait to get back to you and get married.”

“Be safe,” You told him as he broke away from you to leave.

You hated the pit you felt in your stomach as you watched him leave. You felt it every time he left to go to sea. He assured you that he knew what he was doing and he would always make it back, and so far he had but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t sleep well in the nights that followed. Your mother and father had to deal with getting everything delayed but make sure it would be ready when he returned. Not only were they antsy to marry you off, they knew that is what you wanted.

You were relaxing under a tree, reading a book, trying to distract yourself when you noticed a carriage in your driveway. You watched as a man in a uniform stepped out, and you felt your stomach drop. You knew that James’ parents were over visiting with yours and discussing more wedding arrangements. You had a feeling that whatever the man was saying it was not going to be good.

You were quick to get up and rush to the door as well. Whatever news he was going to give you wanted to be in the room to hear it.

You made it into the house quickly and made your way to the study.

“I am sorry to inform you, but James Barnes was killed in action by Pirate Roberts.”

You couldn’t help the sob that slipped past your lips. You could barely comprehend the thought that James was gone. You had even been able to start your life with him and he was just dead? You felt yourself collapse but were caught by your handmaid before you hit the ground.

“No, he can’t” You sob into her side, “He promised me he would come home,”

[princessofprocrastination]

request because i adore the way you write angst to fluff, but maybe a just the reader and cc (whoever you prefer) getting into an argument, voices are raised or regretful things are said and cc has to fight to win back reader? idk just an idea for writers block!

have a good day :)

You’re Leaving Me (Sapnap)

this story fast forwards to the future a little, getting after 2021!

pairing : sapnap x fem!reader

summary : voices were raised when you were concerned about where you relationship is going. all this just to know if you were going to be in his future. was it worth the argument?

a/n : dude i fucking love you for sending this request. this def helped me :))))

"when are you coming back?" you asked your boyfriend of 3 years now.

he shrugged his shoulders. "i didn't think that far yet." he told you, eyes not meeting yours, busy packing his suitcase.

"what?" your voice slightly raised. you flinched at your own tone. "you mean to tell me you bought a one-way ticket to florida and didn't think about coming home?"

"i'll come home, just don't know when." he tells you, glancing at you to see your reaction.

okay, let's back track. sapnap, and you met at a dinner your mom hosted. her colleague, sapnap’s mom and her got close and shared some personal family details, one of which being that they had a kid, both around the same age, addicted to their electronics.

both moms hadn't thought that you two would get so close, you being uncomfortable in meeting new people, and him being socially awkward.

but, not even a while later, you two were inseparable and soon started dating.

and now, that boyfriend that you were once attached to the hip to had just told you that he had bought a ticket to florida to visit his friend, dream, and didn't have a ticket back.

you had nothing against dream, you two had spoken a while back in a light-hearted conversation, exchanging a couple of jokes here and there.

"you were the one who told me to visit him." sapnap tells you, exasperated.

yes, you had been the one to encourage him to go to florida. it would be good for him to have a change of scenery. you told him to think of it like a mini vacation, the borders finally opening again. you thought it was a great idea.

but you hadn't thought he wouldn't come back for a while. that's not what you wanted, at all.

"yes, i did, but i wanted you to come back after like 2 weeks." your hands brought to your face to ease the headache you suddenly got.

"you're being stupid." your boyfriend tells you.

you drop your hands to your lap, a small slap sound emitted from the action. "i'm being stupid? all i want is you to have a break. a short break, and then come back." you told him honestly. you were tired of the argument at this point.

"and what i want is to stay with my best friend for a while. stop being selfish." he scoffs.

you stayed quiet, trying to reorganise your thoughts before the argument turns big for no reason.

the air turns more tense by the minute. the quiet turns eerie at one point, the only sounds are you two breathing.

to be honest, you couldn't remember how you two got here. how it got this bad. but as you thought this situation is bad, it got worse. and it had been because of the next question you asked.

"where are we going with this?" you finally say something- well, more like asked. "this relationship, where are we going with it?"

you heard his breath hitch, albeit quiet, you still heard it. "what?" he scoffs once again.

"you're leaving me, for god knows how long, so i'm asking, where is this going?" you were done with questioning yourself everyday. this conversation had been way too long overdue.

and if the two of you were going to argue, might as well argue about something else, too. and something that was important. 

“this is irrelevant.” he tells you, continuing to pack his suitcase on the floor. you look down at him, you being sat on his bed and him being on the floor, legs crossed, folding his clothes. 

“no, it’s not.” you tell him, this time more seriously. you were sick and tired of being asked what is going to be your next move, being 20 and had been dating for a while. 

some would say you two are too young to take the next step in anything, or even have this conversation, but you and him had always taken the express train in things. 

“i just want answers.” you sighed. “you could come back next week, next month, hell, even next year. and i just want to know where this is going.” you pulled your legs to cross them on his bed. 

“i’m not leaving you, i’m coming back to you, all i’m doing is going to meet my best friend.” his tone more serious now. 

“which means you’re leaving me. and i’m terrified.” you told him, seriously. “we’ve been together for 3 years, since we were in highschool.”

“it’s only been 3 years.” he laughed. “what’s the rush.” 

“we’re both working. sure, we’re both taking online classes, but, what’s not to rush about?” you say. 

“you’re being ridiculous.” he rolls his eyes at your last statement. 

okay, you might be exaggerating. but you weren’t telling him to get hitched, you were asking him what comes after this? moving in together? 

“i just want to know what happens after this, after you leave.” your shoulders slumped down, you knew he was going to get mad soon, his temper already rising. 

“for god’s sake, i’m not leaving you. i will come back, i just don’t know when.” he screams. “stop fucking asking, i’m getting a headache.” 

your eyes widen slightly. no, you didn’t flinch. you knew this would happen, anyways. 

“all i want to know is what’s in for the both of us. give me something to hold on to after you leave for florida.” your voice small, yet still pushing for an answer. 

“oh my fucking god.” he says, his voice full of malice, which made your goosebumps rise. “i don’t want to marry you, what part of that do you not understand.” he raises his voice slightly towards the end of his sentence. 

“do you get it now, my silence. i don’t want you to move in with me, i don’t want to propose, i don’t want to marry you. i don’t want kids with you.” he finally looks you in the eye.

the air turned tense once again as you became quiet. 

“yeah, i get it.” you finally speak up. 

you took your phone and stood up from your position from his bed and went near him on the floor.

“thank you for being honest to me.” you bent down to him, giving him a last kiss on the cheek.

you walked to his bedroom door to walk out before glancing at him one last time. “i love you.” you told him for the last time. 

you wanted to let him know that you didn’t leave because you lost feelings, but more like because having a more serious relationship is not what he had wanted, and you respected it. 

you took your bag from the couch outside, telling his mom that you were going to go home, giving her a kiss on the cheek and thanking her for the dinner you made for you earlier. that was probably the last time you’d talk to her, too. 

sapnap was still seated on the floor, hand in the air, holding a piece of clothing he was meant to fold before you kissed him on the cheek. 

he knew what it meant. the kiss, and the “i love you.” 

and that terrified him. what did he just do?

- 

fast forward to more than a year later, you were thriving, if you said so yourself. 

you quit your job, deciding to finish your  double major in college before starting to work again. you took in as many classes as possible, during the summer and winter breaks and extra classes to graduate as early as possible. 

after that eventful day, you spilled everything to your mom. you sobbed on her shoulders. she comforted you through the entirety of your breakdowns. 

she was one to thank of your success now. 

she cried when you graduated, being the most proud of you for finally finishing college and being able to do what you love. 

with that double major, you only decided to be a flight attendant. always wanted to be one, you were happy to hear back from one of the most prestigious airlines in the world.

and now, you were happy and healthy again. 

and here you are now, sitting at a table, with your parents and your ex boyfriend’s parents. 

at first when you met his mom again after he had left for florida, it was awkward and weird. you didn’t know if she knew if he had even told him. 

but she assured you that she knew and to not feel uncomfortable with her just because of her son. and with that information, you started talking to her again comfortably. 

- 

‘fuck, i’m nervous.” he told his tall friend. 

his friend chuckles. “you’ll be just fine.” he assures his texan friend. 

the taller man looks out into the restaurant booth that the two families were sitting at to peek. “holy fuck.” he lets out. 

“what? what?” the shorter man in a suit asks repeatedly in panic. 

“man, she was hot before but she is smokin’ now.” the floridian says. “i hope you mess up, now.” he jokes. 

“shut up, dude.” the texan says, now more nervous. he had seen a couple photos of you that his mom sent him and his friend was right, you did get more attractive, and he didn’t even think that was possible, given how already beautiful you were from a year ago. 

“this is a bad idea.” sapnap says after a while of silence. 

his tall friend turns to him. “what are you talking about? no, it isn’t. you’ve thought about this for over a year now.” he says to his friend as assurance. 

“yeah but she won’t just take me back.” he sighs out. “it has been over a year. i just left her.” 

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both not knowing what else to say. dream knew better than to say anything, he learnt to let his friend let it all out. 

“that last kiss, that last ‘i love you’, plays in my head over and over again from the day she left my house.” sapnap says after a while. he needed to let out his frustration about himself one last time to gain the balls to talk to you again. 

“and as much as i regretted screaming at her, telling her i didn’t want to have a life with her, i let her go. i tensed up and stayed on the floor and i let her go.” he continues. 

“and almost 2 years later, i just come back? what kind of person does that to a woman so perfect? all she wanted to know was if she was in my future, like how i was in hers.” the texan 22 year old finishes. 

his shoulders slumped lower than before before stretching his tense muscles and giving himself a pep talk in his head to go talk to you. 

dream glanced at his obviously nervous friend. “again, you’ll be just fine.” he says to the man fiddling with a red box.

“she’ll say no.” sapnap says, exasperated, trying to understand why he’s here again.

“with your charming looks? no chance.” the tall man jokes light-heartedly. “look, we both know you thought about this for a long time now, and now is not the time to back off from it. you spent a lot of money and effort for this. now what’s left for you to do is ask.” he says. 

“right, right. just ask.” he mutters to himself. he prayed silently to all the gods above that he got the private booth instead of one in the middle of the restaurant. he wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to accept him just because you don’t want him to feel embarrassed. 

he walks out of his hiding spot, not before dream giving him a comforting pat on the back. 

he fiddles with the box in his hands before putting it back into his suit pocket to hide it. 

the closer he gets to you, the more he gets to see how much you’ve changed. you looked elegant in your dress, in his favourite shade of red. you looked collected and mature. 

“okay, here i go.” he told himself before approaching your table. 

“hey.” he said slowly and quietly, hoping he didn’t startle you but loud enough that you heard him so he didn’t need to repeat himself. 

he could see his mom and yours giving him the biggest smiles or assurance. of course both your parents knew. he needed to ask for permission, anyways. they were supportive of him, but ultimately, it’s up to you. 

his breath hitched as you turn your head to look at him, wondering how greeted the table. 

“she’s even more beautiful in real life.” he thought to himself. 

you were sipping on champagne when you heard someone greet you. as you turn and put the glass down, you were shocked to see your ex boyfriend. 

a more attractive version of your ex boyfriend. 

his face more mature, the suit he was wearing fit perfectly on his body. but you could still see how tired he looked. his sunken eyes were too obvious for you to ignore. 

the table grew tired. you glanced at your family, trying to see if they knew this was happening, if are just as confused as you are. 

but they were smiling. sly jerks. 

you turn back to the man you haven’t seen since that day you left his house. 

“i know, this is shocking to you. we haven’t seen each in almost 2 years.” he starts saying. “and i know i have no right to be here after i let go of you.” he sighs. 

“but ever since that day, i have been kicking myself for being so stupid to even think that i could live without you even for another second.” 

you open your mouth to say something before he cuts you off before you could even utter a word. 

“i know, i still left for florida and i still stayed there for a long time. i didn’t even call, i didn’t text. and i feel terrible.” he comes closer to you. 

“i said terrible things to you, when all you wanted to know was what i had in store for the both of us in the future. all you wanted was something to hold on to until i came back to texas to you.” he says, eyes teary. “i got to see you grow to be a more wonderful and smart woman over the year, thanks to my mom for sending me your updates.” 

“and i see that you’re great without me. you have this amazing job and amazing friends and an amazing family who supports you through whatever you want to do.” he tells you, looking you in the eye. he looked extremely nervous, hands shaking as he goes to take your hands into his. 

you stayed sat down, not knowing what to say. and at some point, you didn’t know when, you started crying silently, slow tears going down your cheeks. 

you took one of your hands away from his to wipe away the tear before holding his hand again. this gave him a little bit of hope for the next thing he was going to do. 

“and i know this is late, but i do want you to be in my future. but i just hope there is still space in yours for me to be in.” he kneels down on one knee as he finishes. 

you tense up, eyes widened. slowly, your mouth opened and you took your hands to cover it. this is definitely not what you had expected to happen today. 

you look at him as he reaches in his suit pocket to take out an elegant looking red box, with pretty gold swirls on the top. he opens the box for you to see the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen. 

the ring that you’ve saved multiple times on your pinterest board. the ring you’ve told your mom you fell in love with. 

the ring of your dreams. 

“so i guess this is when i ask the question.” he inhales through his mouth and exhales out of his nose. his hands start to shake as he holds the box. 

“will you marry me?” he finally asks the question. your eyes staring into his, tears still flowing, but you don’t bother to wipe away. 

“um. you can say no, i’m sorry if this was too invasi-” he talks but is cut off by you. 

“yes.” you say once, still not believing that this was happening. he looks at you to make sure he heard it right. 

“say that again.” he says quietly. 

“yes, i’ll marry you.” you tell him before he smiles brightly. he takes the ring out of the box and takes your left hand, sliding it on your bare finger. 

he admires the glimmer of the ring under the restaurant lights and the ring being on your finger before he kisses your hand and takes you into his embrace. he gives you a tight squeeze before pulling you back to finally give you a kiss on the lips. 

“fucking finally.” you heard a familiar voice say. 

“shut up, dream.” you heard your now fiancé, say, not looking at him but still looking at you with his dreamy eyes and the dreamy look he has on his face. 

you heard applaud going on in the restaurant as the people in the start to notice the romantic atmosphere. 

sapnap stands up and pulls you up to stand with him as he hug your tight once again, this time staying that way for a while to busk in your scent that he had missed so much. 

after a while, the two of you detach and hug your families. you notice the tall man in a classy white button up and black pants and shiny shoes standing there. 

you give him a hug before talking. “nice to finally meet you, dream.” you say to him. 

“alright cuties, let’s take pictures of you and that beautiful ring.” your mom says. 

to which you remembered about the ring. you look down at your hands, admiring it for a while before turning to sapnap.

“you are so sneaky.” you told him. 

“i know. tell me i did good.” he tells you before pulling you in by your waist. 

“you did amazing.” you say before kissing him on the cheek. 

“i love you.” he says to you before kissing your forehead and turning to look at the camera when your mom called for another pose. 

what a day. 

[codenamesazanka]

TOGA!

and the answer she’s looking for: a very long ramble. 

Toga! Toga Himiko! Her quirk lets her transform into anyone she wants, provided she’s got their blood. When she was 14, she reportedly stabbed a classmate she had a crush on to take a sip of his blood, and from then on, she’s been on the run. Spent the next two years on the streets, dodging Heroes and avoiding capture, until she joined the League of Villains. Now she’s 17 years old - still a minor, though, and that’s likely why Giran says her name has been kept under wraps, at least until Kamino:

So that’s 14+ years of her life living as a “normal” kid, going to school, having friends, living with a family— as far as we know, out of the League, Toga is the one member that had been living most adjacent to the standard norms of the world; been enculturated/socialized as a person living in a Hero society. (Shigaraki was raised from age 5 by All For One, Twice was on his own as an homeless orphan for more than half his life, Spinner was a hikkikomori, etc) She was from “the other side”, she was from the “right” side, part of the civilian population that Heroes had a duty to protect.

In other words, she would’ve learned, from an early age, that when she’s in trouble, a Hero will come save her. Heroes are good people, Heroes are there to help, Heroes protect everyone. Symbols of justice and peace, associated with fairness and kindness and all that nice stuff, etc etc. Heroes are people who save people.

So... why is Toga so scared of Heroes?

Ever since her attack on her classmate, she’s been running, desperate to avoid capture. When I say ‘desperate’, I do mean desperate.

Everyday she has had to run, and so she had to learn some street smarts, gain new skills, train her instincts. Within two years, she’s mastered her quirk and all it entails - like observing people, behaving just as the original person did or close enough, and measuring the exact amount of blood needed to finish her goal without killing the person (Camie). Within two years, she can hold her own in a knife fight and more, she has learned to be sneaky as heck and gain a frankly supernatural level of hiding, and who knows what else.

Which is understandable. She’s up against multiple Pro Heroes, which Shigaraki has said regular Villains don’t stand a chance against, probably because Heroes are trained combatants who have mastered their quirks and have years of experience. So she had to learn fast and quick. Toga says the trick is to not see the training as training - because to her, it wasn’t, it was like being thrown into a rushing river to learn how to swim or else drown.

But still— why? Why this amount of fear? Why throw her lot with Villains and the underworld at 14 years old, instead of going to juvenile court and rehabilitation?

Why in the world did she think she’ll be better off hiding among vicious, dangerous Villains than Heroes that are supposed to help her, like she’s been (supposedly, I admit) taught her whole life? Heroes, who are people who save other people.

And she’s still scared! She’s joined up with the nation’s most notorious terrorists, but she kept her wariness. Moment more Class A students - kids younger than her, still just trainees - shows up, she’s retreating, she picking flight over fight.

—saying she doesn’t want to die. It’s a statement that I think we can logically say comes from a belief of something like, “Heroes can kill me,” which then also logically means—

To Toga, getting caught by Heroes will mean she’ll be killed by them.

No, she’s not insane. No, she’s not some airheaded teenager prone to melodrama. No, she’s not a ‘psychopath’. Toga’s got some strange ideas about love, but otherwise she’s perfectly functional: she’s clever, she’s able to assess the situation and risks and act upon that information, and she’s shown to be observant and empathetic to her teammates, especially Jin. Any ‘damage’ she has isn’t from reasoning or understanding social norms and cues. She’s smart, she gets people, and she knows that as a Villain, she’s liable to be executed by a Hero. Even if that was just a fear before, she’s now seen it happen in reality to Twice.

I think we can all agree that in a civil society, people who have done wrong still deserves to have the right to due process and a trial, and not be executed right then and there on the street. That’s the agreement most societies has come to on conflict resolution - innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt, and despite what crimes you’ve committed, there’s a system to give you a fair chance for amends and atonement. Ideally, when you know you’ve done something wrong, you’ll turn yourself in because you expect to still be treated as a person and that the justice you’ll receive is appropriate. At the very least, that’s the better option than living the rest of your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder, possibly committing even more crimes because you’ve run out of options in your effort to not get caught.

But that’s not what’s happening here, with Toga. Whatever she learned from her 14 years of life in Hero Society tells her that now that she has committed a crime, a Hero will come and kill her.

And that’s kinda messed up. Why is that?

Putting aside Twice’s situation for now, we haven’t seen blatant proof of this - that if you’re a Villain, you might as well have a target painted on your head for a sniper’s bullet. What we have seen is the masses’ quick and harsh condemnation of potential criminals. Toga’s parents essentially disowned her after the stabbing incident.

But even with people who haven’t done anything wrong yet, people are so quick to judge.

“Does he even have a future?” That’s harsh, Journalist man. Bakugou’s a kid, 15 years old, he’s the victim here of a Villain plot, and here you’re talking about “no future” - meaning no career, no functional role in society, no chance for a normal life. That’s like giving him up for the dead. There’s not even a body and you’re already chipping in the words for the gravestone. Except maybe even worse, because there’s at least the courtesy to not speak ill of the dead; Villains tho, Villains are ‘bad’, ‘evil’, ‘violent’. Demon child.

What we have seen is a terrifying ostracization of anyone deemed criminal, considered acting against a Hero’s work, considered outside the norm. You’ve got people giving up on you, you’ve got your property getting vandalized—

And maybe you even eventually get a lost kid denied help for not looking like a proper victim.

If you’ve got any association with being a Villain, Heroes aren’t gonna help you. Even if that’s not true, I think people can be forgiven for thinking that from what we’ve seen. Toga certainly thinks this. Villains won’t be helped, even if they need it. That’s what she has gleaned from all her years living in Hero society; that’s what all the Heroes might do to her, if she ever gets caught, and she’s not getting caught to find out; and now that’s what she has seen, her friend dying right in front of her, killed by a Hero. Villains - and those who approach that label in any capacity - don’t get saved by Heroes; they are at best defeated, at worse killed.

So then, if Heroes are people who save other people, then who exactly are those who Heroes don’t save?

And that’s the answer she needs to know.

[renaerys]

Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣

15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”

Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”

“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.

“Ow,” he said.

Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”

I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.

“Place your hands here between the nipples.”

Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.

Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”

Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.

“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.

The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.

“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.

You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.

After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”

“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.

Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.

“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”

None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.

“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”

Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.

“Are the paramedics here yet?”

Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”

Biiiiiiiitch.

God, he was going to destroy her so bad.

“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”

“Then you kiss!”

Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”

Wow, great advice.

Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.

“Are you gonna show us?”

“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”

“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.

Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.

Jesus Christ, there are two of them.

True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”

Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.

Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.

She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”

He stared at her.

“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”

He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.

“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”

Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?

“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”

When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.

“Are you listening to me?”

Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”

He would make her sorry.

“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”

Her staring intensified. “Did you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”

Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.

So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”

Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”

He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.

The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.

Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.

This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.

“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.

Truly, he had the most genius ideas.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[adorethedistance]

9 P.M. - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader Modern Day!AU

JATP masterlist

Warnings: swearing, mentions of suicide, painful breakup, and angst.

Words: 1991

Summary: Luke breaking up with you made your world stop turning, and when it finally starts moving again after four long months, Luke is back in typical agitator fashion.

A/N: Not requested, and I wrote this in about two hours so bear that in mind. I’ve been toying with an angst idea for a little bit now, and because all of my requests rn are fluff, I decided why not give Luke a little love since it’s been a minute since my last Luke fic. This isn’t proofread so proceed with caution.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” Dana’s voice cuts clear over the mindless chatter in the busy diner. She tucks a stack of menus under her arm to brush a loose strand of sandy blonde hair out of her face.

“I’m here to talk to Y/n. She isn’t returning my calls and she only has her phone on silent when she’s working.”

A solid four months ago, Luke Patterson had broken Y/n Y/l/n’s heart into a couple billion pieces in this very diner. After Luke requested to meet up as soon as possible, Y/n told him she’d be clocking out for the night around 9 PM, and true to his previous request Luke had arrived at 9 on the dot. He considered taking her to his car for more privacy but in fear of forgetting his long, crafted speech, he opted for a secluded booth in the very back corner of her diner.

He still remembers the evening, clear as day. They sat down across from one another on the red vinyl seats with nervous tension exponentially rising between them. He remembers the way she ruffled her loose hair after having it pulled back for an 8-hour shift. He remembers the way she rested her right ankle on her left knee to massage away the calf pain from 8 hours of waiting tables. And he remembers the way her warm smile disappeared after he uttered the words “I think we should break up.”

Y/n was so shocked she couldn’t respond. Everything seemed to be going well between them. They had said their first ‘I love you’s and she had even opened up to the possibility of giving him her virginity. And here he was, a mere week later, claiming that he had fallen out of love with her over the span of a month.

Tears clouded her vision. She was quick to wipe them away before they fell, something Luke noticed that she only did when she was crying out of anger. With her normal sadness or even stress she just lets her emotions run their course. But the anger swelling inside of her at that moment, she so desperately wanted to hide. As a result, she brushed them away. She bit her tongue. She saved face, not wanting to let Luke know just how much he had hurt her.

Luke expected a full-on interrogation. He knew Y/n’s mind was one of insatiable curiosity and she had to have at least a million questions. However, if she did, she didn’t show it. The only question she asked, “Is this really what you want?” Her voice was steady, but Luke knew how badly she wanted to tear him apart, to ravage him right then and there. But after losing such a huge part of herself, Luke, she held onto her dignity so tight it nearly crumbled into dust and blew out of her clenched fingers. Without asking for any more information, she slipped out of the booth and hurried to her car as fast as her walk could take her.

At the time, Luke felt guilty for making her cry. Now he feels guilty for ever having let her believe she wasn’t good enough for him. The only problem is she wouldn’t give him the chance. And her best friend, Dana, didn’t seem like she would give him one either.

“Well, she’s not here. Have you ever considered she’s not returning your calls when she’s off of work, too?”

“Dana, I need to talk to her-”

“What could you possibly have left to say, Luke? Whatever you said to her that night broke her, it absolutely destroyed her. She hasn’t been the same since.” Luke had no trouble believing that was true, which is why it hurt so bad to hear, granted it didn’t hurt as bad as how Y/n felt that night.

“What? No- I-I really need to talk to her.”

“You really don’t.”

“I have to get her back, Dana!” A tornado of shock and anger consumes Dana to the point where all she can do is let out a bitter laugh. The look in Luke’s eyes indicates how hurt he is by her laughter, and Dana’s desire for vengeance has never been so strong. So, she continues to tell the truth. The ferocious, unabridged, hurtful truth,

“You don’t deserve a second chance. You don’t even deserve an attempt at a second chance. Knowing her, Y/n would never tell you this, but I will: you fucked up so bad, you made her almost make the biggest mistake of her life.”

“What?” Luke almost hesitates to ask, knowing he won’t like the answer.

“That night, she came to my place and cried so hard for three hours before she could even get a coherent word out. She stayed with me for three days and, had my shift not ended early that Tuesday, she wouldn’t be alive today.” The dumbstruck look on Luke’s face is only more motivation for Dana to twist the knife, “She almost didn’t survive losing you, Luke. And god forbid she gives you a second chance because she won’t survive losing you again.”

The diner is just crowded enough that no one is paying the two of them any mind as they faceoff by the hostess stand. Dana spent four long months consoling her best friend back to life, and she was not about to let Luke destroy all the hard work Y/n had put into healing.

“I can make this right.”

“How could you possibly make this right?”

“I know more now than I did before. I’ve changed!”

“So has she.” Dana’s biting words render Luke speechless. Once she realizes her work here is done, she continues setting up tables as they’re disinfected.

__________________________

Luke’s conversation with Dana in the diner left him shellshocked, but it also lit a fire under his ass that he needed to move forward. Rather than discouraging him, Dana’s words gave him a greater incentive to win her back: proof that he was willing to do what he said he would. At least, that’s what Luke told himself. Rather than stepping into the future with greater clarity, Luke went into the world with confidence so large and blinding, his actions may sabotage his true intentions.

That’s how he found himself so determined to win Y/n back. And that’s how he found himself face to face with the front door of her home. It’s 9 PM, just early enough to where she’d be home for the day, just early enough to where she wouldn’t be asleep, and hauntingly just the exact time he had broken her heart all those months ago. Before giving his conviction a chance to back out, he was raising a steady hand to ring the doorbell of her residence.

Y/n opened the door without much thought, expecting a food delivery; she was drastically off-put by Luke’s presence at her doorstep this late.

“Oh.” Was the only response manageable for the tired waitress.

“Hi. Can we talk?”

There it was. The phrase that was a paradoxical toss-up regarding her emotional state. Half of her has been waiting for this day for so long, dreaming of the boyfriend she once knew to come genuinely heartbroken and remorseful to win her back. The other half was terrified of this impending day as she realized she wasn’t nearly as emotionally strong enough to handle the situation as she thought. 

‘Oh’ was the only response manageable for the tired waitress.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please just give me five minutes and if you never want to hear from me for the rest of your life, I’ll never bother you again,” he rushes out, knowing his time is finite. For what short period of time he thought it over, Luke always imagined pouring his heart out on her front doorstep. That’s why her silent sidestep and opening of the door caught him so off guard. He hadn’t anticipated her to actually give him a decent chance. Why would she? He broke up with her in the very diner she works in full time and crushed her heart so completely, the only things left behind had to be contempt and resentment.

Luke crossed the threshold of her small, cramped LA home with his heart on his sleeve. Reluctantly closing the door behind him, Y/n walks to her living room and sits on the couch amidst a mess of popcorn, her favorite chocolates, used tissues, and a bottle of Advil. The night Luke broke up with Y/n was four months ago and she’s still spending her Friday nights alone crying on her couch with a rom-com on the tv. A sharp pang of guilt cuts through Luke’s chest like a machete and his previous confidence completely dissipates into sadness. Though, he can’t tell if it’s actually remorse or just general pity.

“What did you want to talk about?” Y/n asks as if she doesn’t know what conversation they’re about to have. Luke takes a deep breath to prepare himself as best as he can before explaining what’s been on his mind.

“I am so sorry, Y/n.” His hopes for any sort of reaction are crushed once her blank stare doesn’t waver. In spite of everything that’s happened thus far, this is the moment Luke realizes this would be a lot more difficult than he anticipated. “That night, you asked if taking a break from… us was what I really wanted.”

“I remember.”

“I said yes and you left right after that. I know you’ve blocked my socials, but you haven’t blocked my calls, you just don’t answer. I’m sure you’ve got to be interested in why, you’re a very curious person.”

Luke wasn’t wrong there, Y/n had been wondering why. She had been wondering why since the words left his mouth that night, but she repressed that curiosity. She repressed it because she knew that whatever the answer was, it didn’t make any difference. Luke wasn’t hers to have anymore and that was what really mattered.

“I did it because I thought I was falling out of love with you.”

“You thought?”

“I wasn’t actually falling out of love with you.”

“You weren’t?”

“No.”

“Then why’d you break it off?”

“I thought I was falling out of love with you but really my attraction was just changing. Instead of just spontaneous and passionate and exciting, I began to see our relationship as comforting and secure as well as those other things. I thought my comfortability was falling out of love, but really, I was falling in love. I was no longer just super infatuated with you, I was in love with you. Genuine love.”

“Luke…” Y/n trails off. She has no real idea of what it is she’s thinking so she opts to let Luke continue until she can figure it out.

“I love you, Y/n. And I broke things off because, before you, I didn’t understand love. Hell, with you I didn’t understand it was love, but now I do! I love you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“So, what does this all mean?” Luke draws in a nervous breath, identical to the one he used to soothe his nerves as he stepped into the all-too-familiar house.

“I know I don’t deserve it because of what I put you through… but all I’m asking is for a chance to prove that I really do love you.” The looking shimmering across Y/n’s eyes tells Luke how her thoughts are running wild. She’s experiencing a new train of thought at a mile a minute and it terrifies both of them.

“You hurt me, Luke. And I want to hate you so much for everything that you put me through, but I don’t, and I hate myself for that. But, I’m sorry. I can’t give you a second chance.”

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

[solarwonux]

69.  “So, you want to what?”

87.  “That guy was checking you out. Should we tell him to join us later?”

camboy!wonwoo x camgirl!reader

w.c: 1.5k

genre: angst, suggestive 

warnings: suggestive language, talks of a possible threesome, hint at fwb

note: so I know this is not what you probably had in mind, but I’m also thinking about making this into a full on fic and didn’t want to give all the good stuff away lol. I hope you like it though. lmk your thoughts please, thank you <3

Masterlist || Prompts

“So you want to what?” 

Wonwoo smirks. Your fork in between your fingers hanging by a thread as you blink rapidly, trying to wrap your head around Wonwoo’s words. He sat there smugly, arms crossed, tongue poking his cheek, amused that he had finally caught you off guard.

 Pay back was a bitch and although he knew he was going to pay for his consequences soon he was going to indulge in this moment. 

“What do you say?” He rests his elbow on top of the table, eyeing you through the top of his round glasses. “I for one think it’s the greatest idea I’ve ever had.” He shrugs, his cockiness spewing out behind every single word that leaves his mouth. 

He was fucking insane. 

You shake your head. An attempt to regain your calm and collected self. “I thought we already agreed on what we’ll be doing.” You place your fork down on top of the quilted paper napkin. Appetite gone. Well not entirely gone, you were starting to crave other things, things that wouldn’t be appropriate to share out in public. 

Every Wednesday night at ten on the dot. You and Wonwoo would go live. Just something the two of you did as friends to gain a little extra cash in order to get through graduate school debt free. It started out as something innocent, never getting entirely naked, never touching one another. Simply getting off together in front of the camera. It was fun, it didn’t mean anything, it still didn’t mean anything. But things had escalated after gaining a bit of a following. Instead of getting off to one another and remaining still somewhat clothed. Dirty words, heated touches and desperate kisses were shared. 

The money was good. Almost too good to let go. So you kept doing it and with the added bonus that no one knew who the two of you were, except your close friends - you had accidentally spilled the beans to them one drunken night at a baby shower - no one knew. Your identities were kept a secret, never showing more than your lips so you kept going. 

At some point it became mundane. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anymore, more like something you needed to do. The two of you were close to finishing your degrees, all you needed to do was to hold it out for a little while. But Wonwoo had noticed that you started faking your orgasms, getting off on camera for random teenagers or grown ass married men, wasn’t doing it for you anymore. That’s why you were here, at the diner a couple of blocks from his place. To discuss possible ideas, a new direction if you will. He cared about you and because the two of you were quite literally in it together, he wanted to know what you wanted. What you needed to help you get to that sweet high the two of you enjoyed so much.

“Well you see...that guy over there was checking you out.” He pauses and discreetly points to the bar. You raise an eyebrow at him and turn your head to the side. Your eyes meet two pretty brown eyes behind the colorful bar. He stops cleaning the counter top, smirks, throws the rag over his shoulder, pushes himself away from the bar and walks towards a family of four that were arguing over blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes. 

You scoff and look at Wonwoo, a smug smile still painted across his face. “Soonyoung?” You ask in disbelief. Soonyoung was the cute worker that worked every Tuesday and Thursday at the diner. And one of the TA’s in the music department, he too was trying to get through graduate school debt free. Or so you were told by his coworker and the cute doe-eyed girl Wonwoo had a huge crush on. Which is why you had made it your meeting place in the first place. 

It was perfect. You talk to Wonwoo about possibly pegging him - he still hasn’t caved - while ogling over the waiter behind the bar. While also trying to be Wonwoo’s wingwoman. A fool proof plan, that had really gotten the two of you nowhere. Well maybe until now. 

Wonwoo waves a hand in front of you brushing you off.  “Yeah whatever but, should we ask him to join us later? A little birdie told me he gets off in thirty minutes.” He clicks his tongue and sits back again, crossing his arms in front of him. 

He was enjoying this way too much. 

You were slightly shaking, your pussy throbbing as you pictured the way Soonyoung’s hands would feel all over your body, while he and Wonwoo took turns touching your most intimate parts for an audience of strangers to see. In hindsight, it was a great idea, probably the best one Wonwoo has ever had, but the most you had ever said to Soonyoung was your order for M&M pancakes at two in the morning one Wednesday - Thursday -  after the show. 

He was covering for someone that night and you were extra sensitive and needy. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when the front door bell rang signaling your arrival. Eyes shifting into cute little half moons, as Wonwoo guided you towards your usual booth. Wonwoo had done most of the talking, figured out his work and school schedule as well as scoring his phone number and a promise to hang out soon. 

You on the other hand were terrified to even look up, responding in one worded answers when Wonwoo tried to include you into the conversation. But you wouldn’t budge, too busy wallowing in the soreness between your legs and the gnawing nerves erupting in the pit of your stomach. 

You groaned and pushed the plate of half eaten chicken tenders away from you. “I don’t know Wonwoo, what we do isn’t entirely socially acceptable. It took our friends an entire week to come around to the idea of us selling our bodies online. Soonyoung is cute, I like him but what if telling him ruins my chances with him.” You sigh running your fingers through your messy hair. 

This is another reason why you weren’t entirely in it anymore. After realizing that most guys weren’t too big on the whole fucking your best friend on camera for money thing, you cut off the possibility of ever dating until your final show. It was the main reason why you confided in Wonwoo about your crush on Soonyoung, why you cried in his arms as the exhaustion took over your body. 

It was ending soon. Just one more semester. Four more months. And you’d finally be able to live a life you wanted and without fear. “He doesn’t care. I mean he knows that I do it. I never told him that you also join me but he doesn’t care. Thinks it’s cool, so I figured he was our best bet.” Wonwoo puts a hand over your closed fist and holds it reassuringly. “We don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to but I want you to feel comfortable again, just until we finally end this once and for all.” He says sadly. 

Wonwoo enjoyed camming more than you did. Reveled in the idea that he was in the position all your viewers wanted to be in. But he too was getting bored. He wanted a future and he didn’t see one in camming. He was the one that had gotten upset at you when you first spoke to him about possibly ending once the two of you graduated. But the more he thought it over and took into consideration all your reasons, he agreed. 

Soonyoung’s co-worker was someone he had had feelings for since his undergraduate. They were friends but he hated that he had to hide this huge part of his life from her. So he figured once everything was done, he’d finally ask her out like he had been meaning to for years. 

“Are you sure?” You lift your head and rest your chin on top of his as he nods. You close your eyes, count to ten before opening them again. “Fine, we can talk to him, but I want to be the one to tell him and everything we plan on doing or usually do. I want to make sure he’s comfortable with everything before asking him to join our show next week. “

“Sounds like a plan.” Wonwoo extends his free hand out to you. You roll your eyes and give him a firm shake. A wordless agreement or contract. “Now chin up princess he gets off in five minutes and I told him I wanted to talk to him before you got here earlier.” He takes his hand back, a familiar mischievous glint burning brightly behind his eyes. 

“Sometimes I hate how calculated and organized you are.” You grab one of your fries from your forgotten plate and throw it in his direction. He dodges it, rolls his eyes and throws one back at you, hitting you square in the face. 

“Hey! If it wasn’t for me you’d be drowning in college debt. So you’re welcome.” 

“Shut up don’t remind me.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dead, broke

Of all the moving, wrenching accounts of death during the pandemic, Molly McGhee’s “America’s Dead Souls,” for The Paris Review stands out: haunting, furious and sad, an rude awakening of the status quo that denies any possibility of inaction.

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

I’ve known McGhee a long time, since she worked on my book INFORMATION DOESN’T WANT TO BE FREE from McSweeneys, a professional association we renewed when she landed at Tor.

During the pandemic crisis, I’ve had two different connections to her: on the one hand, the consummate professionalism of her emails as we published my novel ATTACK SURFACE in the middle of the lockdown.

On the other hand, I knew her through her wrenching and deeply personal Twitter account of the personal tragedies she’s endured over the same period. Her Paris Review essay brings those tragedies into sharp focus and uses them to pin a huge and heretofore ill-defined feeling.

McGhee’s mother died during the crisis, but the death was the culmination of years of hardship: “[earning] less than $10,000 a year. Suffering from debilitating depression while caring for her aging parents…chronically unemployed, undermedicated, and overstressed.”

Her mother’s debts were on public display through searchable databases, and her life was haunted by both con artists and bill collectors who carpet-bombed her with calls, letters and emails.

She was too poor to fight back: her wages were garnished by the IRS “for back taxes calculated from a years-old misfiling they refused to correct.” McGhee sent her months of her salary, but it wasn’t enough.

She had no answer for her mother’s rhetorical questions, “Why are these people harassing me? What good does it do them?”

Because the answer is obvious and insufficient: “The people in power don’t care if we live or die, as long as they get paid.”

It only took two days after McGhee’s mother died for her creditors to begin harassing her for her mother’s debts. The state of Tennessee seized the house, but Wells Fargo expected her to make good on the mortgage.

The hospital where McGhee’s mother died wanted a quarter of a million dollars. McGhee, not even 26, was staring down the barrel of the weapon that had been trained on her mother, the inheritor of nothing but debt.

The debt-machine is efficient. Bill collectors found out about McGhee’s mother’s death before McGhee’s own family got word. And they’re remorseless, immune to McGhee’s “pleading, bargaining, reasoning, denying, uploading, scanning, begging, faxing, and crying.”

McGhee compares it to Gogol’s “Dead Souls,” a surreal tale of a grifter named Chichikov who buys dead serfs’ souls to sell for profit.

It’s only surreal if you’ve never been in the debt system’s crosshairs, “where one day of lost wages can compound into houselessness.”

We live in a system of winners and losers. The winners’ winnings come from debt, shielded from the system’s cruelty by “professionalism and bureaucracy” that insulate them — and their functionaries — from “feelings of culpability, not to mention empathy or curiosity.”

Poor people have less money, but the system is firmly focused poor people, because people with money can defend themselves. When McGhee went into debt to hire a lawyer, a single letter on official letterhead instantly reduced all that debt by 90% — more than $250k, poof.

It’s expensive to be poor. Take Community Health Systems, one of the largest hospital chains in America. It sues the shit out of poor people. When those people can afford lawyers, CHS loses, because it is chasing debts it is not entitled to collect.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/18/unhealthy-balance-sheet/#health-usury

CHS itself owes $7.6 billion. It turned its first profit in 2020, thanks to hundreds of millions of dollars in state and federal subsidies, and its executives pocketed millions in “performance bonuses” for a performance that consisted of getting bailed out by the public.

The Trump stimulus handed trillions to the richest people and biggest companies in America. Those companies “leveraged up” their handouts to raise trillions more and went on spending sprees, buying up struggling businesses.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

They loaded these companies up with debt, declared “divi recaps” (where you take out a loan on a company you bought on credit and put that money in your own pocket as a “special dividend”) and crashed the companies, destroying jobs and communities.

Plutes know there are three kinds of debt: workers’ debts (which must be repaid), owners’ debts (to be “restructured” away) and government debt (not debt at all, but still handy for terrifying normies with stories of “mortgaging our kids’ futures”).

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/17/disgracenote/#false-consciousness

Forty years of this approach has turned the economy into a shambling zombie, dependent on the fiction that “consumer” debts — repackaged as bonds through financialization — will be repaid, somehow.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

As an ever-larger share of the world’s wealth has shifted from the workers’ side of the balance sheet to the owners’, the ability of workers to buy things to keep businesses afloat as vehicles for debt-leveraging has only declined.

Wage-theft and stagnation, unions in retreat, monopoly, monopsony, tax-preferencing for home-owners over renters, for capital gains over wages, spiraling housing, health and education costs, worker misclassification — wages are annihilated before they’re even deposited.

With no wages left over to fund consumption, there’s only debt, and as Michael Hudson says, “Debts that can’t be repaid, won’t be repaid.” CHS can comfortably carry billions in debts, but the sick people it sues for $201 have to choose between rent and medical debt.

Every loan-shark knows how this works. The chump with $500 who owes you $500 and owes the bank $500 needs an incentive to pay you ahead of the bank. To assert the primacy of your claims, you need an arm-breaker.

The digital world has given us all kinds of fantastic new arm-breakers: digital repo men who can brick your car or your phone. It’s automated the once rare practice of evictions, creating eviction mills that run with devastating efficiency.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Creating a debt-instrument — a bond grounded in the payments from other peoples’ debts — requires that you convince investors and bond-rating agencies that your arm-breaker will terrorize the debtors into paying you instead of child-support or grocery bills.

“The cruelty is the point” isn’t ideology, it’s pure description. The system — an artificial life-form constituted as immortal colony organism that uses us as gut flora — runs on competing claims to your debt, and victory consists of terrorizing you more than any rival.

The financiers who practice leveraged buyouts destroy real businesses, ruin lives and hollow out communities. They are feted as “job creators.” The workers who must borrow to close the gap they leave are “deadbeats.” Leveraged buyouts are back, baby.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

If you fret that forgiving student loans and making college free will “saddle our kids with debt,” then you’ve been suckered.

Look. Replacing a system that starts all but the richest children with unserviceable debt with one that doesn’t is liberation, not bondage.

Since Reagan, we’ve been hiking tuition, killing deductions for interest, and shielding student debt from bankruptcy.That’s how you can borrow $79k, pay $190k, still owe $236k, and have 25% taken from every paycheck AND Social Security until you die.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

Debts that can’t be paid, won’t be paid. Student debts do get forgiven, but only for those highly educated, (potentially) highly productive people who can prove that they have been so thoroughly destroyed by debt that they have no future.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/20/sovkitsch/#student-debt

And as McGhee reminds us, the tragedy isn’t merely that we educate people on the pretense of betting on America’s future, but really, the principle use that the system makes of the educated is as collateral for securitized loans.

If the arm-breakers who chased her mother wanted to understand that woman’s humanity, McGhee says they should start here:

“Her humor and her rage were unmatched. In the evenings, against the setting Tennessee sun, she liked to drink red can Cokes in the garden while snuffing cigarettes out against the yard’s ant colonies. She could reckon with anyone just by looking them in the eye. Men were terrified of her, rightfully so. She was sweet. In the last week of her life, when she couldn’t understand where she was or who she was talking to, she greeted everyone the same: ‘Hi, pal. Hope you’re doing okay. When can you come pick me up?’”

Take a second. Re-read that.