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#I'm rooting for them they deserve the world

one-of-tankhuns-neurons · 3 days

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Also I want to clarify that in my previous post about UNKNOWN (I finished it already) I didn't mean that Qian didn't love Lili, that wasn't the point. I'm pretty sure he loved her immensely, I'm just pointing out how that love is different for her because she is a girl and she's their mothers daughter. Now that I have finished the whole show it is probably also rooted on his own fears he was projecting onto her. He is so violently afraid of turning into his mother that he associates this fear with his little sister as well. They both have that blood relationship, that bad-ending potential, he is hard on her because he is hard on himself and he wants her to be good and be happy. But it's STILL a difference from how he treats zhiyuan. That boy is not related to them by blood, so he sees him as the one in the family who is untainted by that shadow. Qian unconsciously looked for the light but he still didn't want to accept it. I think that Lili being the one to let Yuan in is also very meaningful.

So yes, I think Lili's childhood was painful, and her brother definitely took part in it. Her brothers at that, who were infatuated with each other (be it because of love, brotherhood or whatever) while she was marginal.

Yuan gets to be missed when he's abroad yet she doesn't.

Yuan gets the good presents while she gets the wrong thing she asked for.

Again, it's not about what Qian meant, but how Lili received it.

Even in the last episodes, after so many years Qian is still holding that bad-ending potential over her head, and she wonders when her brother will see her for who she is.

The only time we see Qian see the bad-ending potential in Yuan is when he tells him he likes boys. But it's so different nontheless.

But that's how sibling relationships often are, you unintentionally hurt them and sadden them even if you would kill for them.

I also think the series knows this. Qian doesn't see her and we don't see her either. The marks on the wall are only Yuan, but then nearing the end she becomes visible, we see her marks on the wall as well, she is now shown as part of the whole story since the beginning. Ofc we don't see what their mother might have done to her because this show is not about her, but about Qian and his trauma, though when she yells at him to remind him she was there too... That she also knows the woman he blames so much for everything yet he doesn't remember her in his trauma... Shit dude.

Lili deserves all the apologies in the world. I'm glad she got to be a model despite her brothers' harsh words. I'm glad she got to be happy how she wanted and free herself of that bad-ending potential.

#unknown bl #unknown the series #i know the show is really good and the colors and the analogies and the what not but thins bothered me the whole time.#bl drama

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peridots-pixiwolf · 1 year

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Made some complementary badges for the @nonbiney-swag-competition thanks to @ghostisredacted's V1 request!!

[Start IDs. Four simple circular drawings, each featuring one character from the Nonbiney Swag Competition with the words "I Voted" above them and confetti on either side. All four are drawn almost exclusively in the colors of the nonbinary flag, albeit muted and indigo-toned, with a white base. The first is Pyro from Team Fortress 2 shown chest-upwards, who does a peace sign with a raised hand. Symbols that shape a unicorn horn float above their head. The second is a fullbody of Ghost from Hollow Knight, flaring their cloak open, emphasizing the motion with one hand and raising the other to their mask. The third is V1 from Ultrakill, another bust, where it holds one hand up to the camera to do a thumbs up. Despite a lack of a face, the way its "eye" is shaded suggests a grin. Lastly is the rather amorphous fullbody of the Slugcat or Survivor from Rain World, holding a spear and looking slightly upwards at the bats that hover around its head. End ID]

#peridots-art #pyro tf2 #tf2 #ghost hk #hollow knight #v1 ultrakill #ultrakill #slugcat rain world #rain world #you may recognize this palette from a few posts ago lol. didn't know how to color v1 initially and then realized it fit perfectly #v1 gets to keep a little red as a treat #besides maybe raine the utdr characters are the only others that I was rooting for but I'm too salty about v1 losing to seam for that #and also it's very late and I only drew these for the second person I tagged so I wanted to give them a chance to see #anyway i voted for v1 in the revival but it looks like slugcat and floofty are in the lead and that's fair they both deserve it #. am i supposed to tag this with something. like for the nb swag polls. i decide No. goodnight to you tag-wanderer #WAIT almost forgot to id these lol #right. also. i said around eight months ago that it wasn't my first time drawing Ghost with a cloak of those colors and it wouldn't be the #last and i was RIGHT. I think it's four times now and the first was painted on a rock #survivor rain world

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comicaurora · 3 months

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I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

#asks #not aurora

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leclercmode · 6 months

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happy birthday ☁️ charles leclerc

summary: posts for charles’ birthday through the years.

notes: hope u guys enjoy it!! :)

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 17.972 others

ynusername i really hope you have the best of birthdays, char. always rooting for you! be happy, always.

View all 202 comments

charles_leclerc thank you, i am very grateful for your support and friendship 🥰

❤️ by author

user1 it's so cute how yn has always been there for charles

user2 there's nothing better than friends to lovers

user3 thank you for giving us these photos, yn!!!!

user4 @user3 she literally posted the best old pictures of charles

user5 “be happy, always” 😭💔😭💔😭💔

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 23.082 others

ynusername the birthday boy! happy birthday il predestinato - keep killing it and paving the way for the rest of us. always proud of you.

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charles_leclerc i would be nothing without you!

user6 @charles_leclerc wow!! a romantic.

user7 i just remember charles saying that he was in love with yn, but that he disguised it so she wouldn't notice. IS THAT DISGUISING IT?

user8 they were so in love with each other and only they themselves couldn't see it

user9 THE 2ND PIC

user10 i love them sm

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, and 35.628 others

ynusername happiest birthday to you my other half, you deserve every bit of the amazing stuff coming your way. thank you for every single moment! 🤍

View all 368 comments

charles_leclerc cannot live without you

user11 i love how yn has always been behind the scenes

user12 “i would be nothing without you” to “cannot live without you”

user13 @user12 I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE

user14 @user12 😭😭😭😭😭

user15 i love their moments together

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 48.972 others

ynusername pretty glad you were born. happy birthday, char.

View all 403 comments

charles_leclerc i love you so so much! everyday im reminded of how im the luckiest guy in the world to have you in my life.

user16 @charles_leclerc CHARLES OMG IM CRYING

arthur_leclerc my favorite people in the world, i love to see you making each other happy 🤍

user17 loving the whole fandom stalking yn's birthday posts for charles

user18 @user17 FR!!! they are so cute.

user19 they were already dating? (new to the charles’ fandom here)

user20 @user19 yes!!! this post is from 2022, charles said they had their first kiss in 2018 and started dating in 2019.

user21 yn and charles are so in love with each other and i'm in love with their relationship

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 130.727 others

ynusername il predestinato, my ferrari boy and my char! countless nights i have dreamed about our future together. you are the man of my dreams, and i am so happy that you are not only my boyfriend but also my best friend. from the moment we met, i knew we were destined to be together forever. i cannot wait for the day where we get to grow old and frail together. i love you. happy birthday 🤍

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charles_leclerc you are my one and only, i love you so much!

user22 im so happy that they have each other

user23 “and i am so happy that you are not only my boyfriend but also my best friend” IM CRYING

carlossainz55 😍😍

arthur_leclerc love you guys !! 😘

user24 this couple is masterpiece

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #f1 smau #charles leclerc fic

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cartoon-of-milk · 2 years

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I want to make a post about the situation in Sweden so that people know what's going on. I know everyone is talking about the queen dying and how that will destroy the UK financially and the like, and it was 9/11, but.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/sep/11/swedish-election-exit-polls-far-right

The election here was yesterday and the preliminary results indicate that our second biggest party, SverigeDemokraterna, one rooted in nazism and fascism, will have a lot of influence over the country the next 4 years. They're one of Europe's biggest extreme right parties and the biggest in the world to be nazis through and through.

Things are going to be hell for racial minorities, immigrants, refugees, disabled folks, Muslims, Jews, the LGBTQ+ (especially trans), women and people/families with low income.

I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified. I'm exhausted. I've stayed up well past midnight on weekdays trying to get people to vote left and to make as much noise and make it known what the conservatives are doing to us and to get more engaged politically.

But I'm working against the grain here, what with our newstations and general media gave SverigeDemokraterna so much attention (positive and negative). Plus, the other traditionally conservative parties also rallied HARD for them, to the point that they got bigger than them.

This won't mean I'll give up and cower, I can't afford that. But it means that things are terrifying for those of us who are especially racial minorities. Because the nazis will get inspired by the results to get more active out there and cause so much damage.

Sweden has excellent PR. You wouldn't know these things because they make sure to seem like a small and peaceful country that is the posterchild for equality. But it's far from it. And It's only going downhill from here. I could list all of the truly heinous things that have been going on here the past few years but we would be here forever.

What I want to say though, is that Sweden has a truly revolting racism problem. Maybe not to the extent of the US, but it's not good. We were the forefathers of race biology after all. And that has ultimately paved the road for this election result.

If you see this, please reblog and share. More people deserve to know the truth about the state of this country.

#politics #sweden #sverige #sverigedemokraterna #valet 2022

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barblaz-arts · 28 days

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As someone who ships Chaggie as well, I want your opinion on this.

Someone made a kinda good point about Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship; the point being that there’s a power imbalance between them. Charlie is the princess of hell. She wouldn’t physically loose anything or be hurt physically if she breaks up with Vaggie. But Vaggie would loose both the love of her life and her home and friends if they break off. And so they see this toxic dynamic because Vaggie is “walking on eggshells” in order to stay in Charlie’s favor and not getting on her bad side.

So….thoughts?

The problem is people who say these things treat the terms "power imbalance" and "toxic" and "unhealthy" as the same things when they are not.

There is a power imbalance, yes, definitely. I constantly make jokes about the fact that Charlie and Vaggie have a forbidden love story in a Boss/Employee HR violation kinda way for pete's sake. It's just a lot more funny thinking about the fact that that probably has more weight than the demon/angel situation.

But the thing is, no matter what Charlie will ALWAYS have a power imbalance with whoever she dates because she is literally the princess of Hell, as they have said. Even if she dates a fellow hellborn royal, the fact that Charlie is in a higher position of power will always be a fact because her parents are literally the only ones above that. So what? Should she just not date anyone??? Also, isn't the one has a higher position of power but still loves the other a super popular ship trope? Rich x poor. Royalty x commoner. Goddess/immortal x normal human. Popular in school x the social loser. The list goes on. So why is it a problem now?

The fact that they think Vaggie "walks on eggshells" around Charlie is a bit...? I'm just a little confused you know? Vaggie is definitely not afraid of Charlie. When they had their fallout, she wasn't afraid of losing the things she was dependent on Charlie if they ever broke up(i.e. a home, her safety, money etc) because Vaggie damn well knows Charlie wouldn't do that. Everyone in hell knows Charlie goddamn Morningstar wouldn't do that. Vaggie was merely afraid of losing their relationship, which is a perfectly normal thing to be afraid of. Vaggie's dedication to Charlie isn't rooted in fear, it's rooted in devotion in the name of what she thinks the person she loves deserves.

The thing that makes Chaggie so great despite that power imbalance is the fact that Charlie is an absolute sweetheart. She isn't the kind of person who would take advantage of that power and Vaggie, as someone who knows her so well, is perfectly aware of that. Vaggie is safe with Charlie in every way that matters, and this is where toxicity and the unhealthy elements come into play.

Charlie and Vaggie as individuals have all the ingredients for an unhealthy relationship. As Husk so plainly pointed out, Charlie would rather fix everyone else's problems than help herself. Meanwhile Vaggie has deep self-hatred that seeps into how she feels about everyone but Charlie. They're both the type of people who would rather think about others rather than themselves. This is the root of their codependency, and why their relationship can be quite unhealthy. It's extremely evident with Vaggie, which makes perfect sense since she probably never saw herself as a person before Charlie.

Those flaws can so easily be taken advantage of in a relationship, but the thing is, do they do that? Do either of them think the other ever would? As Rosie did say...

While Charlie likes to shoulder everyone else's problems, Vaggie looks at the love her life and decides she'll take some of that load so she doesn't get crushed under the weight of the world. Vaggie reels Charlie in by being the realist to Charlie's dreamer. Vaggie used to essentially be Heaven's living weapon, but she has now sworn to be the armor for someone who looks out for everyone but herself.

On the other hand Vaggie's self-worth is shrewed because she's an ex-soldier who thinks she should always be under someone's service to be deserving of anything. But here Charlie is who constantly calls Vaggie her partner and blatantly treats Vaggie as an equal and still loves Vaggie "more than anything" and doesn't doubt that Vaggie loves her in return even after finding out Vaggie's lie and true origins.

So are they good for each other? Maybe not, but there's still more of the show to see. They can be unhealthy, but not to the point that being together damages each other in any significant way. Their relationship is imperfect, which is fine. No relationship is. Especially not in fucking HELL. And perfect for a story because, yunno... They are still in an ongoing story. They aren't a lost cause yet. It's something they can develop from, something we can get to SEE them develop from.

Are they toxic though?? Are they harming each other physically, emotionally, sexually, or financially? Definitely not. Because although whether they're good FOR each other still remains to be seen, it is an undeniable fact that they are good TO each other, despite all the ways they could not be. The unhealthy elements are due to how they treat themselves, but their relationship can't be deemed toxic because of how they treat each other. And for now, that's what matters and that's why I love this ship.

#asks #hazbin hotel #chaggie #as fun as writing this all down was #and it was it really was #I can't help but think about how frustrating it is that this needs to be said #we can't just say that we think this canon ship is cute and that's why we like it and have the conversation end there #instead we have to make an essay to explain ourselves 😞#like dang it aint even that complicated

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purple-babygirl · 28 days

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don't call me daddy V

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,660

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst

A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜

When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.

Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.

His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.

He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.

Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.

Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.

In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.

It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.

He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.

But something was missing still.

Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.

What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.

She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.

It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.

And to do that, he had to know more.

“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.

“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.

“Can I ask why?”

She sighed, “why?”

“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”

She laughed, “really?”

“Really.”

Oh, this wasn’t a joke?

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.

“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.

He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.

“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.

“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”

“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.

“I’m serious, doll.”

“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.

“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”

“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.

He had made her feel the same way.

He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.

“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”

Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.

“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”

“I’m so sorry-”

She shook her head, stopping him.

“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.

Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.

“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.

“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.

“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.

“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.

“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.

She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”

“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.

“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.

“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”

“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”

“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”

“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”

“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”

The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.

“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”

“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”

“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.

She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.

After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.

His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.

It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.

“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”

He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.

“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.

Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.

She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.

“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.

She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.

But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.

Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.

Moments like these definitely required a daddy.

“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.

Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”

“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.

Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”

She tilted her head expectantly.

What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-

“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”

Oh, that was something she could do.

“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.

“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.

“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.

Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.

Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.

Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.

Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.

Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.

Tonight was one of those nights.

It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.

He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.

He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.

“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.

“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.

“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.

“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.

“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”

“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.

The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.

He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.

“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.

“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.

When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.

“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.

“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.

“But-”

“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.

Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.

“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.

Of course she did!

That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.

This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.

“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”

“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”

“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”

“What would you like then?”

“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”

Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.

“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.

She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”

“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”

Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.

Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.

She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.

He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.

She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.

There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.

With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.

One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.

It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.

When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.

He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.

“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.

“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.

“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.

Bucky froze.

It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.

“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.

“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.

“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.

“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.

She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.

“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.

One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.

Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.

But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.

When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.

She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”

Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.

“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.

“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.

“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.

“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”

“Really?” She sniffed.

“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.

“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.

“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.

“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.

“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.

“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.

He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.

“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.

“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.

“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.

“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.

“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.

And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.

He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.

“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.

She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.

“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.

Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.

The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.

Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.

She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.

“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.

“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.

“D-daddy?”

Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.

“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”

Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.

She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.

“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.

Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”

“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.

“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.

“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.

“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.

“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.

She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”

Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.

“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.

“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”

“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.

“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.

She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.

“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.

“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.

“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.

“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.

“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”

“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.

“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”

“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.

Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?

“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”

“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.

She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.

“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.

“Do you like the moon, doll?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.

“You know how our sky only has one moon?”

She nodded.

“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”

“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.

“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.

And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.

He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.

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hedgehog-moss · 5 months

Text

I meant to do some greenhouse cleaning and tidying today because my mum is coming to visit and I don't want to be judged. It involved finally bringing myself to say goodbye to my moribund basil plants (by turning them into pesto) among other things—but my plans were derailed when I took down one of the aquaponics towers and heard a big splash. I thought I'd disturbed a fish that was napping amid the plant roots in the water, but no.... I looked into the fish tank and saw a big frog indignantly swimming away.

I went to get a little dip net and spent a solid half hour trying to fish the frog out—she swam so fast! And was really determined to stay in the fish tank, even when I told her I would put her outside somewhere watery and nice where she could meet frog friends. But I did catch her in the end.

I'd never seen a completely black frog before! When I googled for more info, all I found were photos of the (amazing) African rain frog, which one website compared to an angry avocado.

Back to my tank squatter—she was delicately placed on the edge of the barrel that collects spring water in the pasture and invited to start a new life here, and she morosely sat for quite a while, mulling over her options.

I'm not even lying to you, frog: I found a beautiful toad in the pasture some time ago... I'm moving you from a place of existential alienation (lone frog in fish tank) to a hot spot of batracian life.

I tried to film the moment when the frog accepted her fate and gracefully jumped into the barrel but of course I started filming just a second too late and she refused to come back for a second take. In the meantime, every pasture dweller had noticed that something interesting was happening, and converged towards me. When they found my hands and pockets empty of snacks their reactions ranged from sharp betrayal to distant melancholy.

Pirlouit looked so sad in the rain staring at the horizon, pondering the inherent unfairness of life, I ended up letting him sniff the dip net, like, did you actually WANT to eat a frog?

I know, but this one was too large for you.

Poldine was the only one who didn't resent me for visiting them with a frog and no snacks; she was just happy for the opportunity to kiss someone's cheek.

When I went home and looked at my frog pictures I realised there was an apple floating in the barrel ! which I hadn't seen since I was too focused on the frog. The apple tree has shed nearly all of its fruit by now, it must be one of the last apples of the year... And since entering the pasture with a poor slimy excuse for a snack in my dip net had clearly made a dent in my approval ratings, I decided to go back and offer llamas & donkey the apple along with some vegetable peelings.

Pandolf was intrigued when I fished an apple out of the barrel; he sat down in front of me the way he does to signal that he is a good dog and possibly deserving of good things; but UNLIKE SOME he wasn't disappointed with me when he realised the thing I was holding wasn't meant for him because the world doesn't revolve around him.

.... approval ratings skyrocketing 📈

Look at Pirlouit in the background, startled and horrified as he realises he left the scene to soon!

Look at him leaving a cloud of dust behind him as he rushes towards us!

Don't worry Pirou, I saved you a whole half courgette <3 You can drop the tragic misunderstood persecuted look now.

#crawling along

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astroismypassion · 6 months

Text

Astrology observations 🦊🦊🦊

Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion

🦊Libra Chiron, Venus Chiron aspects and Chiron in the 7th house often experience pressure from parents when it comes to partnerships. They might have parents that had a hand in coming together with their partner in union, marriage. I'm not saying these people experience an arranged marriage, we should look for other aspects for that, but whenever the native is in a serious partnership, the parents might pressure them to get married, they are rooting for it to happen.

🦊Mercury Chiron people along with Chiron in the 3rd house feel like they were never chosen when it comes to friendships, partnerships. They were the last picked on soccer team or for a team project. Therefore these people often want to have more variety, they desire more people around them that they can choose from.

🦊Neptune square Chiron people often don't like their feet, the shape and how they look.

🦊Libra Chiron and Chiron in the 7th house often have the feel like partnership is something hard to come by.

🦊Pisces and Sagittarius Chiron have tons of hobbies, because they often feel like they lack rich "inner world". So they need a lot of hobbies to fill them. They might think about themselves that they are not really that imaginative.

🦊Jupiter positive aspect Juno often have a person that they met when young and stay in touch throughout life for many years.

🦊Ascendant negative aspect Ceres often come across as they simply don't care even when they actually do. They need to work hard to overcome their tendency to micromanage too or giving opinion when is not asked for. These people often come across as not caring enough, so they end up overdoing it to the point of being overly sweet with compliments or little gifts. They might be tempted to buy affection of a person.

🦊People with Sagittarius Ascendant (Gemini Descendant) might often attract a partner that ends up looking more like their sibling or a cousin rather than a partner. One example of this happening in real life is Madeline Argy (Sagittarius Ascendant) and her former partner British rapper Central Cee (Gemini Sun).

🦊Boyfriends of a Virgo Sun often end up looking very boyish or have this teenage charm, like they look pure, angelic and young.

🦊I often find in same Sun couple (for example both are Capricorn Sun) that one of them has Libra Juno. They are looking for the same version of themselves basically.

🦊People with Scorpio South Node need to learn in this lifetime that not all of people in their inner circle of friends, family and romantic partners deserves their time, energy and affection.

🦊Virgo Jupiter and Virgo over the 9th house natives might feel anxious about engagements and marriage. They have this back and forth thinking about marriage, one day they are up for it, other days they are more anti marriage. Also, these people could feel like their in-laws are hot and cold or two-faced with them. One day they get along really well with them, the next day they might be more ignorant. You could travel with your in-laws too. You might also work with your in-laws, like being part of family business.

🦊Mercury in the 12th house, Virgo/Gemini over the 12th house keep their room, home soo tidy. Like they can't fall asleep if there are still dirty dishes in their kitchen.

🦊Actor Matthew Perry from Friends had so many addiction indicators in his Natal chart is unbelieveable, such a concentrated chart.

🦊I noticed in romantic Composite charts that Libra over the 12th house often points to the fact that the romantic connection, partnership might not flourish, happen. Because there is this feel that both STILL don't know each other well. There is so much confusion between both with this placement. A lot of misunderstandings, miscommunication or misplaced expectations.

🦊That person you had feelings for, but never confessed? You might have Composite Pisces Moon with this person.

Credit goes to my Tumblr astrology blog @astroismypassion

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tacticaldiary · 8 months

Note

I love your fics so much 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x wife reader where he has a nightmare about losing them

Solace For The Rough Nights

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love."

Masterlist

Ghost was running.

Footsteps crunching on dried leaves, he weaves through the trees, shaking off the sounds of harshly barked orders, as crisp and as hold as the cold air around him.

The trees around him are densely packed together, a mixing pot of leaves, roots, and coarsely misplaced footsteps.

He can't remember how he got here, or what op he was on and it sends his normally razor-focused mind into a slight frenzy.

Ghost is a man of action. A plan and a way to execute it was all he needed to bring back a victory in tow, but right now he has neither of those things, hasn't even a bare recollection of ever having those things in the first place.

What was a Ghost without a purpose to haunt?

He stumbles.

It's already an odd situation. Ghost doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's a well-oiled machine, self-sufficient and cut-throat. Missteps are simply not viable with him, especially not something as simple as tripping.

Catching himself on his arm, he swings around, gun already aimed towards the ground, sees a vest-clad figure sprawled over the ground under him.

He fires without thinking. A bullet straight to the head, brain matter splattering the trees and forest, the expanse of his arms. The impact of the bullet jolts the body onto its back and-

Every part of him freezes in pure, undiluted horror.

Because his wife stares up at the sky, eyes unseeing, eerily still. Her hair bloodstained, splayed out onto the ground caught in twigs and branches, face filthy with dirt and crimson that he drew from her.

He's not sure when the trembling starts, only that it begins with his hands and travels up his spine, singeing his soul with a terror that would marr him forever. Circumstances completely forgotten, he drops to his knees in front of her, hands shaking as he calls out her name, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse as if he hadn't just blown her brain out and-and fuck it was still on his arms, his hands, the blood was everywhere and there was no way Ghost had just taken the one thing he wanted to keep in his life-

A strangled sound leaves his lips, not a laugh and not quite a cry. He wants to laugh at the irony.

He's always been so afraid that someone would hurt her at his expense, that someone would take her away, tear her apart from him.

He never thought it'd be him who carried out the deed.

Nothing comes out of his mouth, because nothing can fix this. He gathers her into his arms, shaking silently. He deserves this, deserves to suffer in silence with what he's done.

The release of crying was not one he deserved.

"Fuck, I-...you're okay." His voice breaks, rough and gritty, and desperate. "I didn't-I swear I-..."

Someone's voice sounds behind him but he refuses to look back, letting the screaming in his head, the crescendo of grief consume him. His hands never let up from touching her, pressing her against himself as if his own heartbeat may bring her to life.

How could someone like her face the end when someone as disgustingly tainted and bloodstained as him continued on living?

It wasn't right, but then again, the world never was fair.

He registers he's panicking, knows that he can't quite get a full breath in and that the noise of talking is getting louder but death itself would be the only thing to take him away from her.

"..i..on."

He squeezes his eye shut, rasping out suffocating breaths.

"Simon...Simon!"

His eyes snap open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his throat. It's blindingly dark, and he's...there's hands on him. Steeling himself he sits up hazy and confused, lingering panic making his throat close up.

A click and the room fills with light.

Room. He's in...he's in his room. He's in their room.

"You okay?"

Her voice makes him shiver violently, ignites his frayed nerves. He's almost afraid to look over lest he find her bloody and mangled, because she was, wasn't she? He'd seen it, held her, felt guilt choke him and...

But there weren't any leaves here. No trees, and no blood on his hand (that was the first thing his eyes had snapped down to confirm.)

With a shaky breath, he finally turns his head towards her voice.

Some of the hastily built scaffolding inside him collapses at the sight of her. Alive. Well. Clean.

Worried.

Patient as always, she's waiting for him to get his bearing, not wanting to swarm and overwhelm him.

"Simon?" Her voice is a crack of softness a man like him doesn't deserve. The sheets rustle as she shifts closer. "You were tossing around, mumbling something." She furrows her brows, coming to sit in front of him. "You're all sweaty. Do you feel ill?" The back of her hand presses against his forehead, and the touch snaps something in him.

Breaks apart the harrowing gates of relief, but also smashes the wave of diluted panic he'd been too disorientated to feel.

His hand snaps to her wrist, a gentle and firm hold. Her eyes widen but she doesn't interrupt, lets him press his lips against her pulse point with trembling fingers. "You're all right." He breathes out, half to himself.

"I'm right here." She reassures him immediately. It loosens up his shoulders a little, but he still reaches out to her, pulls her close into a hug so crushingly tight it knocks the breath out of her.

She hugs him tighter, still.

Simon wasn't a hugger, so something must really have shaken him up.

"Hey..." She mumbles against his shoulder.

Simon pulls back, hands travelling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, to press against her temples. His gaze flickers down to his own arms, then back to her head.

"Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, letting him ground himself. His hands tangle in her loose hair, weaving the strands between his fingers as if he might pick out phantom leaves and twigs. "Why so worked up?"

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"You didn't."

The sharp interrupting startles him enough to still his hands from where they've been mapping out her skin to ensure it was still unmarred.

"You didn't." She repeats. Gently untangling his hand from her hair, she brings it to press against her chest, right over where her heart is. "I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love." She smiles and Simon feels his heart twist. The way she leans forward to press her lips to his is a kind of gentle he's still getting used to. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon." She whispers against his lips, a warmth that's a welcome reprieve from the shivers that wracked his body moments prior.

They sit there taking in each other's presence until Simon's thoughts slow from a sprint to a run to a walk, until the taste of copper, and the tang of iron fade from his senses.

Until it's just her, just them. In their bed, in their home. Off duty and safe.

When she slides her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him down he goes willingly, lets her straddle him. Never once do his hands leave her, they wrap around her hips to keep her steady.

"Tell me about it?" She asks, hands on his chest. After a moment of thought, Simon shakes his heavy with a long, heavy exhale.

"I'd rather not think about it." He rasps.

"It might help." The gentle shapes she traces on his chest give him something to latch onto. "I don't want you to deal with these nightmares alone." She snakes a hand up to his head, gently tapping his temple. "Don't want you to get stuck here without me. We're a team, right?"

"I suppose we are." He hums. Simon considers changing the subject, letting it go and falling back to sleep, but the need to get these vile thoughts out of him...

So he talks.

For once, he talks.

Simon tells her in halting phrases and clenched fists about what he remembers, how he held the gun, how there was no hesitation pulling the trigger.

His tension is met with hums and soothing circles rubbed onto his skin, keeping him with her even when he unravels the threads of his worst nightmare.

"I remember thinking how I was the one who took your life." He swallows harshly. "How I lost someone else...how it'd have been my fault." She doesn't comment on the fact that his grip on her hips has tightened considerably as he spoke.

"Well you haven't shot me yet, so I think we're safe for now."

Her attempt at a joke is met with a blank glare, but she snickers anyway. "Look Simon, if it'd be anybody I'd have liked it to be you-"

"No."

Her smile falters at the way he pushes up onto his elbows. "No?"

"I wouldn't..." He gathers his thoughts, clenches his jaw briefly. "I'd rather cut my own hands off, love."

"That's a bold claim, but-"

"It's a promise."

The conviction he says it with renders her speechless. His eyes so firm and determined and honest in the meagre light of their nightlamp sparks a warm heat through her, a reminder of how much she loves the man under her, of why she adores him.

He means what he says. It should scare her, someone so willing to go that far, but instead it's a fierce reassurance that her passion is returned. Maybe not in hugs or dopey smiles, but instead in moments like these, with promises that carve their way into their very bones, etching the proof of devotion into permanence.

She tips her head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. "I love you, Simon." She whispers. "So fucking much. I'm not going anywhere, alright. Not without you."

A hand wraps around the back of her neck, tugs her down to crash their lips together, the only affirmation she needs. He pulls her down until they're a tangle of limbs and breaths.

He doesn't need to say it back. Not when his hands burn sparks into her skin, when his arms around her guarantee safety and protection like nobody else can provide.

"You're here." He breathes, like he needs to.

"I'm here." A kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. "I'm here."

And he finally believes it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/08/2023)

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

Text

Need more positivity on my dash, so I wanna talk a bit more about how fucking amazing OFMD's writing for its characters of color is!

Now, I'm a professional historian (phd student 😔🤘🏾) and I read and watch a lot of historical fiction because I love it, right? And I have literally never seen a piece of historical fiction that is so respectful to its characters of color.

Usually, in works of historical fiction that actually bother to include characters of color, they fall into two big camps. The most common one is trauma porn, where poc only exist so White characters can save them, feel sorry about them, or so White audiences can pat themselves on the back for feeling sorry about them. Also popular are works that include characters of color but don't bother thinking about how race impacts their experiences in historical settings (shows like Bridgerton come to mind; they want to include poc but handwave racism). And in general I prefer the latter but it still takes me out of the story.

But OFMD hits just this amazing balance. There are many characters of color, and the racism of the world they live in impacts their experiences and perspectives in realistic ways. Ed remembering how his mom told him that fine things weren't meant for people like him has me by the fucking throat, it's so tied up in race and class and it's the root of so many of Ed's self-image issues into adulthood. But the real kicker for me - poc always get the last laugh in OFMD. Yes, the racism in this show is often very realistic, but this isn't a realistic show at its core and it is so, so comforting to know a character who starts acting like a racist dickhead is a dead man walking.

It's so carefully written, and for me it's such a huge comfort: race in OFMD is never hand-waved away, and it's thought-provoking and realistic and relatable. But the show always feels so safe because we know racism in the show is never excused. They tell us in the pilot that if you start being a racist asshole, someone's gonna stab you. Even Stede, our main character - when he makes a racist assumption in the second episode of the show, the narrative encourages us to call him out for it and has a character directly call him a fuckin' racist! He's held accountable and he fucking grows, because unlearning racist biases is important and he doesn't get a pass because he's the main character!

It's not just that OFMD has a lot of characters of color. It's not just that one of our main romantic leads is an indigenous Jewish man. It's not just that characters of color are consistently depicted as smart, clean, competent, and respected. It's that the show respects them enough to think about how racism realistically shapes the world of OFMD, while at the same time providing viewers with a wonderful fantasy of racists getting what they deserve. In the genre of historical fiction, it stands out because it completely avoids the trauma porn and hand-wavey angles, and I can't articulate strongly enough how much I appreciate that.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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hwatermelons · 7 months

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heyyy 🤭 i love love loveee ur ateez writing!! can u do a soft n fluffy bf!ateez when cuddling at night? u can do any writing style u want! <3 thank uuu

ateez ⋆ cuddling at night with them

⋆ 1.6k words ⋆ bf!ateez x gn!reader ⋆ fluff! so much fluff ^^ ⋆ warnings: lots of close physical contact, face touching and chaste kissing ⋆ a/n: ngl i giggled and kicked my feet while writing this even though it took me forever (i'm so sorry about that;;) thank you sm for the request! also, wooyoung is a history nerd.

╭──────────────────────────.★..─╮

hongjoong ⋆ art

hongjoong smiles as he runs his fingertips down the side of your face, snuggled into the blanket facing you. when you'd asked him to trace your face to sleep, he'd wondered why anyone would ever want to be touched that closely at first. but when you explained that it was something your parents used to do when you had a nightmare as a child, he was delighted to offer the same level of comfort.

hongjoong outlines the perimeter of your eyes, nose and lips, working his way from the top of your forehead to the tip of your chin. soft kisses follow his fingers. your eyelids grow heavy as he smooths back your hair, tracing each strand from the root to the tip. he's in no rush to finish his masterpiece, and helping you fall asleep in the middle of it is an added bonus.

you were the most fascinating person hongjoong knew, a tapestry woven in five senses. so to him, you deserved his full attention in order to do justice to your likeness. your lover studies the way the way your lashes flutter in your sleep, memorizes the sound of your steady breathing, contemplates the texture of your skin and all its lovely imperfections that give life to your form. if he could, hongjoong would paint a vision of you on the insides of his eyelids so he could see you every time he dreamed. he settles for painting your face instead, the slow movements of his fingers detailing each cherished feature.

seonghwa ⋆ solidity

seonghwa always loves to surprise you with back hugs during the day, especially with the way you melt into a puddle in his arms every time. so it's no surprise that his favorite way to fall asleep at night is flush against your back, face pressed into your hair and hands holding onto yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. seonghwa needs your weight against his chest just as much as you need his solid reassurance behind you. the best part is being able to feel his heartbeat pump out a steady rhythm, the perfect white noise for quieting down any extra thoughts before you fall asleep.

you lean into him, eyes slipping closed. the familiarity of it is impossible not to sink into. seonghwa presses a kiss into your hair as you drift off, his arms a firm reminder that the outside world can't get to you here.

yunho ⋆ beauty

yunho can't imagine falling asleep in any other way than watching your eyelids droop inches from his face through his own sleepy haze. and that's exactly where you are tonight, just like the night before, and so many nights before that. forgetting about the weight of the world in your lover's arms, even if it's only for a couple hours. unknown to you, however, said lover is currently busy fighting a losing battle in his mind against the urge to shower your sweet, drowsy face in kisses.

yunho sighs. he's been trying so hard to hold back for the past hour. but it's late, and he can't sleep, and more importantly he just can't resist anymore. he leans in and touches your foreheads together, then rubs your nose with the tip of his. in his defense, he can't help it! you're just too adorable to him. but when you open your eyes, he panics.

"ahhh, was that too much? i should've asked--" you interrupt him by pulling him into a tight hug. yunho yelps in surprise as you bury your face into his chest, hiding the rapidly rising blush across your cheeks. "it was perfect," you mumble, the words muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.

yeosang ⋆ trust

the only reason yeosang shies away from touching you in public is because that's something he wants to share only with you. it's sacred. to him, physical touch is a promise between two people, that they'll hold on and never let go through all the bad times, and celebrate all of the good together. from a kiss on the cheek stolen by san or wooyoung to a smothering group hug from the other members, yeosang only allows those closest to him to touch him. so when he lets you wrap your arms around him and tuck yourselves into a blanket burrito and smooth back his hair and press kisses to his temples, you know he can finally fully trust you. you smile to yourself as you hear yeosang's breaths even out, your cherished angel slipping into sleep.

san ⋆ smile

san holds you like he's afraid you'll leave if he doesn't keep up his vice-like grip. to him, there's no such thing as being too close to you. he rarely leaves you completely alone during most of the day, taking the chance to smother you in hugs or kisses whenever you let him at home, and he's always a text away if you two are apart. at night, you're all his, and he loves the fact that you have no escape now. your arms mirror his, wrapped tightly around his waist. but you add your own touch by massaging up and down his spine, earning a soft sigh from him. you can feel his back muscles relaxing through the shiba inu patterned pajamas as he settles his head in between your neck and shoulder, leaving a kiss at the spot he ends up at.

and then san looks up at you with one of those smiles. the ones where his eyes scrunch all the way up but he's too elated to care about how silly he looks (in his opinion, not yours). no matter how long it's been, he still can't believe he gets to see you from this angle every night, the way no one else can.

mingi ⋆ envelop

mingi physically cannot fall asleep without using you as his personal teddy bear. his favorite way to hold you is with his chin resting on the top of your head. you'd be curled into his chest, and he'd have his arms around you like he can't bear to let any part of you escape his grasp.

your princess adores being able to protect you, to watch over you, to feel needed in such a fundamental way. he kisses the top of your head, and you feel him relaxing into the embrace, the tension leaving his muscles. mingi tries his best to keep his eyes open for you, but ends up drifting off first from your warmth. as you shift into a more comfortable position, he subconsciously pulls you in tighter, soft breaths tickling your scalp.

wooyoung ⋆ tale

"tell me a story," you probe wooyoung as he lays his head on your stomach. he loves being pampered by you, and he always looks forward to the end of the day for this. his hair is the longest it's been in a while, and you've been absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding sections of it as he replays one particular step of the choreography he and the others had worked on today on his phone. you can tell he isn't nearly as satisfied with it as he wants to be. but it's getting late and inspiration isn't striking him, so he decides to set down the phone and humor your wish.

wooyoung always seems to have some interesting tale to tell, like the adventures of a legendary historical figure, or the origins of a certain korean tradition, or even the story behind the most seemingly mundane things.

tonight's feature is the latest gossip from the servants working behind the closed doors of an ancient prince's private grounds in the Joseon era. apparently, he’d been busy plotting a coup against his father, the king (“right under his nose!”). but it was completely justified because he planned on passing the throne to his youngest son instead of him ("the audacity!"). wooyoung enthusiastically details the bloody fratricides the prince committed ("i'm pretty sure one was enough to send the message??"), eventually scaring his last remaining brother into abdicating the throne after less than a year ("a single year!").

unnoticed by wooyoung, you fall asleep in the first five minutes of his retelling. he goes on for half an hour before he realizes you've started to snore. at first he's half-jokingly offended, but he knows you were exhausted from the long day. still, that doesn't stop him from taking a picture of your face smushed into your pillow for future blackmail purposes, before snuggling up in the sheets with you. you won't be spared from the story over breakfast tomorrow (hey, you asked for it!), but for now he's perfectly content with hooking his arms around you and falling asleep on your chest, careful not to wake you up in the process.

jongho ⋆ serenade

jongho loves loves loves singing you to sleep. and he loves it even more when you ask him to. from the crook of his arm, you look up at him and softly make your request known. his eyes sparkle in assent, and the gentle hum of 'star 1117' fills the room as he plays with your fingers resting on his chest. you reach up to pinch his cheek, finding him too adorable in this moment, and he makes a face. jongho pinches both of your cheeks harder in retaliation, refusing to let go and chuckling when you swat at his hands. "when i said i'll return all of your love tenfold, i meant it," he teases, fully prepared to smother your face in a bear hug if you dared to acknowledge the cheesiness of his words.

╰─..★.──────────────────────────╯

⋆ likes/reblogs appreciated ⋆ do not repost ⋆ taglist: @gottagetback2u, @mazeinthemiroh

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notcaycepollard · 1 year

Text

okay but something I think is so fascinating about goncharov that I haven't seen anyone else talk about is the way food (and consumption) is emblematic of one of the absolute core themes of the film: the way goncharov is so conflicted with his desire for freedom and non-conventional relationships and how that's fundamentally inconsistent with (both externally socially imposed and his own internal) expectations of what is acceptable. and you see that play out in a way that has to be deliberate because to me it's just too explicit to be accidental. when you go back and watch in detail it's obvious that goncharov is always eating, always consuming, when he's interacting with andrey compared to his denial of hunger in almost every interaction with katya. and then on top of that the casual and (what some might argue) inappropriate nature of the food goncharov chooses when it's andrey offering, compared to the rigid enforcement of domesticity as represented by the meals goncharov conspicuously fails to eat with katya, G O D. the way it's filmed? the precise and artificial symmetry of those tables and how she's framed by the candles, the silverware? and like, I know we're all obsessed with the anchovy scene and I get it, it makes me just as feral as everyone else and also we all get it, anchovy as stand in for going down on someone, it's not SUBTLE, but to me the fruit stall scene is just as important. it's the first time goncharov is offered something and takes it!! and I don't think it's coincidence either that what goncharov chooses - what andrey offers - is representative of naples, as opposed to the traditional russian food katya is always serving.

and like honestly, I know some people interpret the dinner scenes with katya as misogynistic, I'm not saying it's not a valid take, but again to me I think it speaks just as much about how trapped katya is by social expectations too. she tries so hard to perform the role of the good wife, polishing the fucking silverware and making blini when she deserves so much more than that, and then there's the parallel of sofia offering her a lick of her gelato and honestly can you really tell me the anchovy scene is still your favourite, katya/sofia is so fucking slept on, the tension!!!! L I K E come on how is everything in this film about fucking oral sex I mean

anyway the way that by the end of the film these conflicts are resolved with goncharov and katya at the table on the street, finally eating together but in a way that's not constrained by the trappings of domesticity or the expectation of remaining true to your roots, katya is finally seen by goncharov as a whole person with her own internal life and he's able to break bread with her, that final shot of them drinking wine with the church behind them, it's just, the catholicism in this film is a lot okay

and like I truly think that the way rusty in ocean's eleven is always eating is a deliberate homage to this film, we know soderbergh is influenced by avant-garde cinema and I don't think that's coincidence, and now I'm going to go write the katya-centric fic I want to see in the world with the title 'lay the table (with the fancy shit)' because I am inveterate taylor swift trash

#goncharov

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