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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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I suspect quite a few people on this site don’t realize they are struggling with the effects of chronic trauma. In particular I think more people need to learn about the symptoms of C-PTSD.

Distinct from general PTSD, Complex PTSD is caused by prolonged, recurring stress and trauma, often occurring in childhood & adolescence over an extended period of time. There are many risk factors, including: abusive/negligent caregivers, dysfunctional family life, untreated mental/chronic illness, and being the target of bullying/social alienation.

I’m not a mental health professional and I’m not qualified to diagnose anyone, I just remember a million watt light bulb going off in my head when I first learned about C-PTSD. It was a huge OH MY FUCKING WORD eureka moment for me—it explained all these problems I was confused and angry at myself for having. The symptoms that really stood out to me were:

Negative self-perception: deep-seated feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, and stigma. Feeling like you are different from everyone else, like something is fundamentally ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’ with you.

Emotional avoidance of topics, people, relationships, activities, places, things etc that might cause uncomfortable emotions such as shame, fear, or sadness. Can lead to self-isolation.

Learned helplessness: a pervasive sense of powerlessness, often combined with feelings of desensitization, wherein you gradually stop trying to escape or prevent your own suffering, even when opportunities exist. May manifest as self-neglect or self-sabotage. (I remember watching myself make bad choices and neglect my responsibilities, and having no idea why I was doing it, or how to stop myself. Eventually I just stopped caring, which led to more self-neglect.)

Hyper-vigilance: always feeling “on edge,” alert, unable to relax even in spaces that should feel safe. May be combined with an elevated “flight” response, or feelings of always being prepared to flee. (I used to hide important documents and possessions in a sort of emergency go bag, even when I was living alone and there was no logical reason other than it made me feel “prepared.”)

Difficulty regulating emotions: may include mood swings, persistent numbness, sadness, suicidal idealization, explosive anger (or inability to feel anger and other strong emotions), inability to control your emotions, confusion about why you react the way you do.

Sense of foreshortened future: assuming or feeling that you will die young. Recurring thoughts that "I'll be dead before the age of 30/40/18/21 etc." As a teenager I used to joke darkly that I didn't plan to live past 30—not because I planned to end my life, but because I simply couldn't imagine myself alive and happy in the long-term. I couldn't imagine a meaningful future where I wasn't suffering.

Emotional flashbacks: finding yourself suddenly re-experiencing feelings of helplessness, panic, despair, or anger etc, often without understanding what has triggered these feelings. Often these flashbacks don’t clearly relate to the memory of a single event (since C-PTSD is caused by repetitive events, which can blur together), making them harder to identify as flashbacks—especially if you’ve never heard the phrase “emotional flashback” and don’t know what to look for. For years I just filed it under “sometimes I overreact/freak out randomly for no reason, probably bc I am just a terrible human being.” (It turns out there was very much a reason, it was just hidden in the past. I have since learned to be kinder and less judgemental towards myself.)

There are other symptoms too, here are more links with good info.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile, because I’ve noticed that a lot of the people I interact with online have risk factors and experiences similar to mine. These include:

growing up in a dysfunctional household

having caregivers who do not fulfill basic emotional needs (do not provide consistent positive attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, communication, a sense of safety and security)

on a very related note, experiencing neglect or abuse at the hand of caregivers or other adults. I also want to emphasize the significance of emotional abuse, since it is hard to recognize, easy to ignore, and utterly rampant in so many communities. In general, family dysfunction, abuse & neglect are quite difficult to identify when you are a child/teen and that is the only “normal” you have known.

(For example, in my family it manifested as an emotionally absent father I was vaguely frightened of, constant nagging from a hypercritical mother, and a house full of people who yelled and screamed at each other. It took me years to realize I grew up in an abusive environment, because there was no physical violence, because I participated in the fighting, and because my behavioral problems made me the family scapegoat. And I internalized that guilt: I thought I was the problem. But no—I was a child, and I deserved not to grow up in a household full of anger and fear and negativity. You deserved that too. You deserved to grow up safe and loved and treated with kindness.)

anyway back to more risk factors:

being neurodivergent or chronically ill (especially without receiving proper treatment/support/accommodation)

being queer (especially in a conservative or undiverse community, or without the support and acceptance of family & friends)

being the target of bullying or harassment (from peers, teachers, authority figures, irl, online, etc)

being isolated or alienated from peers, from family, from your wider community.

growing up with chronic anxiety, discomfort, pain, fear, or distress caused by any of the above and more.

There are many other experiences that can cause chronic trauma, but these are some particularly common ones I see people in my own community struggling with. And I want more people to be aware of this, because we’ve been taught to ignore and second-guess the significance of our traumatic experiences. We’ve been taught to feel guilty for our own pain, because “other people aren’t struggling, so I shouldn’t either” or (contradictorily) “other people have it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.” But that’s not how it works—you are not other people, and you deserve to have it better. We all deserve better. We deserve to be happy. We deserve not to be in pain.

I used to think I couldn’t have a trauma disorder because (I argued in my head) the things that happened to me weren’t that bad. And then I spent five years in therapy learning to accept the full extent of my issues. I’ve since learned that trauma comes in many forms, and can happen quietly, invisibly, silently, chronically, and usually without the survivor being aware of the long-term repercussions of what they are surviving. That revelation comes later, after you have survived and must instead learn to live.

Finally, no single type of trauma is more real or harmful than any other. Severity is measured by the way the individual is affected, and the same situations affect different people in different ways. Because no one gets to choose how their brain reacts to trauma. No one gets to choose their hurt—otherwise there would be a hell of a lot less hurting in the world.

We can, however, choose to seek help. We can learn to recognize when something is wrong, we can learn when to reach out to professionals, and we can learn to educate ourselves on our injuries.

And gradually, we can learn to heal.

(posts like this brought to you by ko-fi supporters)

#The way things are is not the way things will always be. So I have learned to trust.#i...i accidentally spent 4 1/2 HOURS writing this what the FUCK #long post #not a shitpost #serious post #mental health #c-ptsd #complex ptsd #trauma #ask to tag #i need to take a break and drink some tea #maybe with the fancy new tea biscuits i just bought #they have pecans and honey. i like honey #pecans are gross though except apparently in biscuits. these biscuits are really good #anyway let me know if you're worried I've misspoke or misrepresented anything here #again i'm not a professional. i'm just a person in therapy who has spent the last few years learning about and healing from complex trauma #and i wish i had known all of this years sooner. but i know it now so i'm putting it out there #bc i hope it helps someone dealing with the same things i dealt with.#i know things now that were painful to learn. and i will use them gently with great care #i wish i hadn't suffered the way i suffered. but since i have--how miraculous if i could use it to prevent others from suffering the same #that's the best thing to do with pain i think. turn it into something warm and blazing and try to use it to keep others warm #pain is like fire that way. you can burn yourself and others with it. or you can tame it and keep it in a jar and use it as a guiding light #For the Love of All the Fucks please notify me of typos

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ficmachine · 2 years

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Maybe monty with headcanons about a trans guy reader and how he supports them?

Look, I know we all know Monty as a hothead with a short fuse but he would ABSOLUTELY support you more than anyone else.

under cut bc kinda long

Montgomery Gator (FNAF) x Trans man Reader

[Headcanons - Ally Monty]

Whether you just started coming out or you were going stealth the whole time Monty doesn't seem all that surprised. The only indication might be is the way he briefly rises his eyebrows at you, waiting for you to continue. When you instead ask what he thinks, he simply shrugs.

He doesn't get why so many people make a fuss about the whole gender thing but he also realises that humans are much more complicated than he is. It's only when you explain just how difficult it was for you to tell him that he realises how much you personally have to struggle with just to be you. Something inside him clicks and he grumbles something about it being unfair to you.

He doesn't need to be told twice so if you tell him your preferred pronouns and name he'll switch to using those immediately – no questions asked. You're still you, and you're still his, and that's all that matters to him.

If you ask him he'll make sure your name, gender, and pronouns are updated in the company's files. He'll even get you new badges with your updated name and help you come out to the rest of the employees. If not, he'll simply ask what can he do to make this easier for you – if you want him to do anything at all, that is.

The croc goes out of his way to research as much as he possibly can on the subject, occasionally going off to find someone who might know about this to ask something he couldn't find an answer to on the internet. For the next few days he's in research mode, doing his darn hardest to educate himself as much as he can. After all, he's got a lot of spare free time at night, and you've been off sick, so he's got all the time he needs.

When one of the managers asks him why the sudden interest in the trans community in general - after he snarled at them to mind their damn business - he simply states he heard someone mention being trans and wanted to look into what it was. After all, it's not like their programming is equipped with that kind of knowledge either so he was simply curious.

He also found out that being “he/they” is a thing... Hm... Uh-oh.

Oh well, he’ll dwell on that another time.

By the time you're back and feeling better he's not only educated himself but also (begrudgingly, he claims) shared what he found out with his bandmates just in case they didn't know being trans is a thing. And for the most part they did, but they let him angrily vent about how much shit trans people gotta deal with anyway.

He can and will absolutely fight a bitch on spot for you. He would've done it anyway but now he realises that more often than not people misgender (it has a name, as he found out) you on purpose. Earlier he would've shrugged it off and barked your correct pronouns at them, not exactly realising how uncomfortable it made you. Now? He's ready to throw hands on sight if it's an adult.

If it's an honest mistake, especially from a child's side, he'll calmly correct them and ask them to not do it again. If the kid asks why he'll very slowly kneel down to their height and explain that you're a man; you've always been a man, and that your voice, face, or how you hold yourself doesn't make you any less of a man.

Once or twice you saw him tug a Karen aside and hold a lengthy “conversation” with her during which he held himself back as much as he could. You never really hear what he says but seeing a grown ass adult who just yelled at you and demanded to know what's in your pants, go from beyond peeved to quiet within minutes is always a sight to behold. Bonus if the said Karen or Kyle approaches you after to apologise.

Surprisingly he becomes pretty damn good at diffusing these sorts of situations. How he manages to hold himself back enough to either talk sense into them or personally escort them towards the security office is beyond you, but you appreciate it.

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

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The Empress (pt.IV)

Mmm. Blood for blood god, yes?

Warnings: mentions of abuse, poison, death, swearing

The palace was a bit busier after the evening you announced your new employment. After the servants herd there would be a trip, they were mostly preparing for Techno’s, and Phil’s leave. Two days weren't much to you, but to Techno and Phil? They were busy days. Techno ended up stealing Phil from your side during those days, so instead you spent your time with Wilbur.

Wilbur was a brilliant child. For being twelve he already had a large understanding of how their kingdom worked. Not only that, but when questioned he could also tell you about other countries and nations. He didn't play up his intelligent, but he also didn't dismiss what he knew.

Tomorrow was the day that Techno, Phil and you had planned to leave on. Phil did walk you to breakfast that morning, but Techno and Phil didn't waist time eating. They mostly hurried through, leaving little room for conversation, then left to Techno’s study. Leaving you and Wil alone for the day again. You didn't mind that though, yesterday you spent your time lingering over his shoulder well he did his studies. The studies, though sounding boring at first were actually pretty interesting. You had a education, however, the one you received was very basic. You were taught to read, write, and even shown basic math, but beyond that you weren't pressured to learn more. No one in your village was. This wasn't because your village viewed education less to survival. But mostly because your village was tiny, there were no great scholars. Most children were taught by there parents, like you, your mother taught you everything. Where Wilbur, at twelve was learning about different potion ingredients and there properties. You at the same age had just finished basic fractions. But that was ok, education wasn't something to compare, everyone learns differently and at different speeds.

Well you maneuvered around the casual tables, bookshelves and sofas, he responded. “Oh! well, you see, Phil wants all of his kids to be respectful, especially to women” you nodded, ’most parents prefer that.’ you mused to yourself. The two of you walked through the library to a room in the back. This is where Wil did his studies. It was just a private room, mostly made so no one could disturb the individual reading inside. “Our mother, she was really kind- you would have liked her- and her most defiantly would have liked you” He was just loosely rambling off, but it was adorable, he had a bright smile. Well you listened, something told you, not many people sat and talked with him. “When Phil met our mother he always told us of how poor her home life was, she wasn't treated very nicely, you see.” Wil took the door to the study and opened it for you two. Both of you moseying inside, side by side. When you two found the sofa you sat down easy, mostly having to readjust after. Unlike you Wil half threw himself onto it with a little squeak of the cushion. “When Dad found out mother was carrying me, he quickly took her away from her home. Anytime he mentioned her parents you could have sworn he wanted to kill them. Dadza doesn't get mad, but when he does... it’s not exactly pleasant.” Wil had swallowed a bit thickly at that last comment. Letting it linger in the air.

You walked with Wil towards the Library, the hall’s were a tad chillier due to the fact the sun wasn't out today. In its place was just grey clouds, offering more snow to the already maxed out ice cube you stood on. When you took the handle to open the door for Wil, he took it from your hand quickly. After grabbing it, he stumbled into profusely apologizing for his spur of the moment behavior.

“So sorry (y/n), it’s just, if Dadza caught me slacking on my manners... He wouldn't be too pleased.” You tilted your head slightly as he opened the door fully. Exposing the Ancient Book lined walls. The stale smell of paper, parchment, and the occasional ink hit you. The library was rather large, but then again, most things within this palace tended to be. The library did have a warmth to it, and a welcoming feeling. The type where if your not careful, you could get lost inside for hours at a time. In the corner rested a larger than normal fireplace, The attached Chimney ran to the celling, lined With thick Rocks and stones. The crackling and popping of the wood burning within was a very comforting white noise.

“this might seem off, but, what manners?” they way you said it may have sounded wrong, but you meant it in the best way you could. Or more the less for him to expand on the manners he was talking about.

“I'm not sure if I can ask, but, Techno looks older than you, did... He live with your mother when she was with her parents?” Wil shifted to face you a bit more. Putting his heel up on his knee. well he rested his elbow on the arm of the couch, he moved his head to rest in his hand.

“No, Techno was adopted. When dad was in the Nether he raided a lost fortress. from what he explained, there was just a toddler roaming around.” Your heart clenched slightly, you couldn't imagine leaving a toddler alone, none the less in a place like the nether. you have never been there, but the stories you’ve herd were enough to tell you the danger. “Since he’s a hybrid of a Piglin Brute and human, none of the other Piglins would touch him. So Dadza did, as Dadza does. he took him home.”

You thought back on this a moment. Techno had a godlike amount of strength, not to mention how tall he was. Of course he was a Hybrid. You felt a bit stupid now for not picking it up. “Just, don't tell Techno I told you, he doesn't like his name being discussed behind his back” You nodded. Wilbur’s face grew into a smile. “This can be our secret” you nodded and smiled back.

“our secret” The more you talked to Wil, you discovered he was a lot like Philza. The two had the most contagious smile you’d ever seen. The only difference you assumed was he had his mother's features. Phil had bright keen blue eyes, well Wilbur had deep beautiful brown eyes. Another difference was there facial structure. You two were quiet a moment before you spoke up. You had been curious of where their mother was, there were paintings of her. But she was no where around. The way Wil talked about her made you assume she had passed. “what happened to your mother?”

Wilbur’s eyes saddened briefly before he- what you assumed- forced himself to contain. “Oh, well... Phil and Mom had a dinner one night with some other world leaders.” he paused a bit rubbing his neck. “It was supposed to be peaceful. but someone from the German Empire didn't want us to be allies. so he poisoned our mother’s food.” He started slowing down with the story as he went on. “Like you said with your father (y/n), you were too young to understand? That's how it was for me. I was only four. I didn't understand why Techno and Dad were so angry.” he wiped his eyes as they welled up, one eye let a tear fall. “They didn't keep me in the room long. As soon as mom started choking, they started yelling. One of our allies’, his wife, had taken me out of the room before it had escalated any further.”

Your heart fell heavy, a pit forming in your stomach. you couldn't empathize with loosing a parent. especially at such a young age like that. You could easily tell Wil wasn't over his mothers death. The way he looked at the ground with such hurt, it genuinely pained you so see the happy boy like this. You moved yourself closer to his side and hugged him tightly, showing him the reassurance he needed. You didn't respond for a little bit. letting Wil express what emotions he had possibly bottled up. After a bit when you felt him pull back, you just kept your arm around his shoulder. You weren't his family. but you hoped that for what company you offered, it made him feel at least a bit better. “I'm sorry Wilbur…” was all you could muster. The atmosphere weighed heavier now. With the sadness of pressed memories lingering, the two of you didn't talk. instead you simply sat in silence.

“So what’s France like?” you asked curiously, taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

By dinner that evening Wilbur and you had already promised each other that you wouldn't speak of what happened in the studies. He didn't want Techno on his back for opening up, or that he also cried a bit. You were ok with keeping it between you two, Wilbur had confided in you something very personal, the least you could do was respect his wishes.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, the chatter between Wilbur and you had picked up quite a lot. You could tell this made Phil happy to see the two of you getting along. Especially since you now technically live with them. When you first arrived to the palace, dinner’s were kind of awkward, since only Phil and you really talked. But now it seemed that Techno was the only one that wouldn't partake in the conversations. He would put a word or two in. But mostly dinners were spent with Wil and you talking about whatever came to mind.

Wil was hurrying to swallow to try and respond. “Oh! you’d love it there (y/n)!” Phil slightly chuckled at Wil. “Its really scenic!” Before Wil could ramble off about France and it’s perks, Phil had chimed in.

“It is a beautiful place, but were not going to any specific places. were only going to the countryside's. We know that much” Wil and you cocked your head’s slightly. ‘what’s out in the country side?’ You mentally questioned, but Wil instead asked it aloud.

“Not that the countryside isn't beautiful- why not stop by the towns?” Wil questioned, his brow furrowed. waving his fork between Techno and Phil for his answer.

“The cities don't have what I need” Techno said plainly, at that Wilbur shot back with a remark.

“mmn, like a girlfriend?” you couldn't help but laugh at the way Techno turned to face Wilbur. Since he still eats with his mask. you could only see his lips, to which Techno made a ‘heh?’ before he compiled his answer fully.

“Keep it up I’ll take you to France and punt you out of my plane.” Phil laughed with you on that one. Although Techno was pretty stoic and monotone, over the last couple of days lately he’s been showing more of his ‘Brotherly love’ as Phil call’s it. you had a feeling that Techno and Phil were going to miss Wilbur during there trip. or, at least you would for sure. After Wilbur laughed a bit he got serious again.

“But really, what are you looking for. there’s not many things in the countryside besides the occasional mansion or farm. Kind of boring if you ask me” Techno hummed in response. Appearing like he was aware of what was in the country already. Since Wil couldn't work a answer out of Techno he simply dropped the subject, viewing it no longer worth the push. Instead he started back on his steak, Phil picking up the conversation.

“Those new clothes should be in your room tonight, (y/n)” you looked up and swallowed your mouthful. nodding before you answered.

“mhn! oh! right, thank you again for them. Are you sure my old pair wouldn't cut it? I’d hate to ruin a new pair of clothes on a side trip” Phil waved his hand in response, as if waving away your worry.

“awh, I wouldn't worry to much on it. Besides, now that you work for us, you have to be official n’ shit” He grinned at you. “Besides, your clothes were nice for your village, but France and Russia have a bit different climates.” You nodded casually. The idea of visiting new places had you a bit giddy. Yes, you missed your home, but being with the royal family so far has been utterly pleasant.

“do you have a certain time you would like to leave?” you questioned, your eyes dancing between Techno and Phil for your answer. Techno didn't look up from his food, expecting Phil to answer for him.

“we’ll probably just end up sending a servant to wake you up. We don't have a specific time yet, but we know it will probably be early. Mostly so we can reach land on time. Techno has the map’s ready for tomorrow with the stops marked. fuel n’ stuff will probably draw us back time wise.” Phil poked at his food well he talked, moving a bit of the food to a nice size bite. “We don't have a designated time we have to return. But we also don't want to be gone from the palace long.” you tilted your head a bit, looking to Phil.

“why don't you want to be gone long?” You assumed it was because they liked being in the comfort of their own home, but you also had a feeling it was something beyond that. Phil’s brow had came together in a bit of... frustration?

“we cant be gone long because the Governor's get antsy..." this was the first time you herd Phil's voice drop. It wasn't his casual light hearted tone, instead it was replaced with a deep, meaningful, yet precise tone. He knew what he wanted to say, and he knew exactly what he had to say. "We can't take Wilbur with us since he’s too young. It's also best to have someone to look over the palace in our absence."

You set your fork down as you finished your plate. Mimicking how techno piled his plates. "Why do they get antsy?" You couldn't help your curiosity on this matter. ‘Did the Governor's not like them gone?’

"Because they feel Wilbur is more fit to Rule. It's utter bullshit" Phil had a lot of pressed emotion on that topic. You could tell just from how he now handled and moved his fork. Usually he had a easy grip, loose moving it about his plate. But now his knuckles were a tad white, and his grip was much more secure. "Don't mistake my words, Wilbur could rule. He'd be a bloody brilliant king too. But Techno is my oldest son. The crown falls to him. Plain and simple. But They think, that because Techno isn't my blood, that it doesn't count." His words started becoming sharper and more hateful. He dropped his fork on his plate at this point out of anger. Even Techno who never moves his head much, Or talk for that matter, had moved his head to face Phil. Techno addressed his father.

"Dadza..." you were a bit shocked, his tone wasn't as monotone. His voice showed his concern, or maybe his understanding. Phil only looked at his plate before he looked up with a breath.

"I cant leave Wil because they pressure him. They pressure him into the thought of marriage with his best friend, into dethroning techno, last time the fucker's brought up killin’ tech and I" Phil leaned back in his chair a bit.

Phil sighed again. Looking up at Wilbur with kind eyes, the hate from his previous thoughts wiped free. "I hate leaving him with that much pressure. He's only twelve".

After the dinner everyone slowly retired to their rooms. Techno had stolen Phil again for some last minute run by plans, so in his stead Wilbur walked you to your room. You both didn't Talk long however, you both were aware that you would be up early the next day. Oh yeah, you were definitely up early. The sun hadn't rose yet and you were already being shaken awake by one of the maids. Telling you that Techno and Phil were patiently waiting. you hurried to change not wanting to leave them waiting any longer.

When you saw them in the hall you had just thrown your cloak and cape over your shoulders. The new attire Phil had made for you was just mostly more layers. This way if you got warm you could shed a few, or vise versa when you were cold.

“I'm so sorry I kept you waiting-” you stopped mid sentence you couldn't believe what you saw. If anyone could have seen your face, they may have assumed you had witnessed a murder for the way your jaw hung open.

There stood Techno in front of you, Phil by his side. But that's not what had your mouth open. Techno’s mask was long discarded, and by the gods was he good looking. Maybe not in the typical sense of beauty standards, but to you he was ethereal. He had scars, yes, but that only added to him. Maybe if he didn't have the scars he would have blown the beauty standard of Handsome, but speaking for yourself you prefer him with the scars. You definitely prefer the scars. There was a small scar over his lip. Then one larger one across his brow bone that dragged down to his cheek. From how the larger one appeared, you could only assume how long it took for it to heal. His eyes were delicate, but they danced ablaze. they were brown, but almost borderline red tinted. Without his mask you could see that he had a rather soft, natural appearance. He was young, younger than you assumed. He looked only about seventeen. The way he was dressed made him look like a casual, young gentleman you would have found on the street. you almost couldn't believe he was the feared Emperor. He must have noticed your lingering eyes, because his lips moved into the ever slightest bemused smirk. When you saw his expression you couldn't help the heat that flushed your cheeks. Worst of all is you could feel your heated cheeks, and that just made you redder from embarrassment. If this was how the trip was going to start, you were in for a long bumpy ride.

“Hello, princess” was all he said. He was purposefully poking at you now. He just learned he had a big effect on you, and oh boy was he ready to torment you with it. You could only avert your eyes, you had nothing to say against that. You didn't even know where to begin with it all. it took you a moment to process. Phil still stood beside Techno, his hand rubbed at his mouth a bit to muffle the chuckle he had.

“w...where’s your skull?... a-aren’t you traveling with it?” oh great, yeah your voice definitely, wasn't taking your side on trying to compose yourself. Techno hummed, he was really amused now.

“Hm? Here I thought you would have preferred this... what a shame, I even shaved.” techno ran his large but delicate hand over his jaw and neck, the rings on his fingers stuck out against his skin. Phil laughed vocally now. The little shit was enjoying this. techno adjusted his stance and crossed his arms. He just held a bemused smirk, oh you so wished nothing more than to rub it off. You didn't care if he was a royal, if you thought you could take him, you would have.

“Ok techno, that's enough, don't want her too red now. she might try and off ya’” Oh don't worry Phil you already thought about it. “don't worry about making us wait either kiddo, we had to get a few things ready anyway” you looked up at Phil as your cheeks finally started to return to normal.

“What were you getting?” you inquired, your brows slightly furrowed.

“This” Techno said, offering a sheath to you. You looked up to him and back down to it. It was a sword, not the one you made, but a different one. “We cant have you defenseless on your trip with us” You hesitated. you knew this was the wrong time to admit that you didn't know how to fight with a sword. You gently took it, parting the blade from its sheath to look it over. It was well made that's for sure, basic Iron, but still strong.

“Your Imperial Majesty...” you were thankful for the sword but, again. you didn't know how to use it. you made them, but you were never taught on how to use one. Your mother forbid it, saying that you already took a man’s trade, there was no need for you to dirty yourself further down the path. “I... I cant...” Techno’s brow lifted in question. “I... d-don't know how to use it...” You felt shame take over you. Fully prepared for them to laugh at you. Instead Phil offered you a slightly surprised look. Techno only made a ‘Heh?’.

“You don't know how to use a sword?” you could only shake your head, looking down slowly. Phil placed his hand on your shoulder reassuringly, moving his head down so he could face you. “Hey... Hey, your ok... Tell ya’ what. Well were out on the trip, we’ll show you ok? It’s still good to carry a sword, just incase things go side-ways. But I promise we’ll make sure you don't have to use it then, ok?” you nodded slowly.

“O-ok, I'm still sorry...” Phil only shook his head, explaining you had nothing to be sorry for. He gently took the sword from you and put it back in it’s case. He told you to lift your arm’s, so that's what you did. He easily maneuvered the belt around your waist and secured the sword your hip. Almost like he would have done to his own kids. The weight of it would have to be something to get used to, but you were thankful that they were not mad or disappointed in you.

The three of you walked to where all the planes were kept. this is where Phil offered you a choice. “Would you like to ride with Techno or I?” Oh, so you had to pick. You gave them a brief blank look.

“I figured I would be riding with you, Phil” You did assume you were just going to ride with him, but you also didnt want to be with techno if he was strickly in a teasing mood. Phil only smiled and nodded.

“Alright’ lets get going then” was all he said. Techno walked passed you and Phil. Making his way over to his plane, there was a heavier cloak waiting on the wing. Techno’s plane was different from the other ones, not physically. His had a crown on the side along with the signa, probably to shownit was the Rulers. He effortlessly threw the heavy cloak over his shoulder and stepped up on the wing. His arm reaching out to pull himself up. jumping into the cockpit easily.

Phil handed you a similar cloak. “it’s colder right now due to the sun being down. you will definitely want this.” you nodded and took it with a ‘thank you’. well you put it on Phil had stepped up onto the wing. pulling his cloak on. He offered his hand down again like he did the last time you flew. His wings were spread out behind him, enjoying the freedom they had before they would be confined. when you took his hand he pulled you up effortlessly. letting you steady yourself before he lifted you up to the cockpit, assisting you in. when you were all situated the planes roared to life. Techno faced Phil and sent a nod. A wordless que. Phil sent a nod back before they both started moving together. Soon before you knew it, you were back in the air heading home.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave

#techno x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #TE

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phecdasolar · 2 years

Text

It kinda makes me,,, not exactly sad, not exactly mad? Smad? ig? When I see people lecturing other people for projecting onto or interpreting a show/movie/piece of media as LGBTQ+ instead of recognizing it as Generational Trauma, and just get so,,, enraged about it

Like, please understand that until I looked at a few posts on here about one of said pieces of media, I had never even heard of Generational Trauma, I had no clue it was a thing that existed or if I did somehow I didn’t know what to call it.

What I’m saying is, most people probably aren’t able to recognize it as such because they’ve never been exposed to it and/or have no idea what it is.

And the part about the LGBTQ+ thing, I’m going to be blunt here and say are you really all that surprised?

We as a generation, as a society as a whole, have done this to nearly every single piece of media we’ve gotten our hands on and no one has told us No, you can’t do this, and those who have, however, have been deemed homophobic, transphobic, etc. so you can see why other people would get mad at you in response to being told no; they feel like they’re being repressed. (Which, isn’t always the case and there probably needs to be a kinder conversation about why it’s not all about us but that’s a topic for another time that I will not be going over because I am not the right person to talk ab that)

What I’m trying to say is you can’t get that mad at someone who doesn’t know any better. You can’t get that ticked off when we live in a world where everybody is projecting how they feel onto something or someone fictional and has never been told that they can’t do that.

You can educate them on the topic, you can kindly and politely inform them, but you cannot yell or lecture or get angry at them because they don’t understand. It won’t help and more often then not you’ll just end up offending or ticking off someone else because they still won’t understand and/or feel like their thoughts and opinions are being invalidated.

Personally I feel like there can be a compromise. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and can and most likely will interpret things how they see them, and they should be allowed to, but they also need to recognize just what exactly the general message or topic is and respect and acknowledge that, especially if it’s a heavier(?) topic like Generational Trauma.

———————————

I’m really not the best at wording things, but I hope this was understandable and didn’t offend anybody. I am open to constructive thoughts and kind explanations/debates but please don’t reblog yelling at me ab how stupid something I said was, that won’t help my understanding on the topic at all

I honestly am not the most knowledgeable person on this topic and I will openly admit that, but I was getting so frustrated at the amount of anger I was seeing and wanted people to try and understand where each other was coming from.

Anyways have a good day/night/afternoon wherever you are and remember to take a step back and breathe when you find yourself in a frustrating situation

#i speak #tough topic #generational trauma #LGBTQ+#encanto #turning red #topic of controversy #i really hope this made sense #long post

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formenis · 3 years

Text

Sfw alphabet: Mello

Anon asked: “Sfw alphabet for Mello?“

Sure, my dear Mellover~

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Since he is very emotional, he loves showing affection to his S/O but not in public. However, in few rare cases, his S/O would feel his arm wrapped around their waist or sense a gentle touch at the hand at the hideout around other mafia members. You know, just to let the others know who you both belong to.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Mello is a great friend. But since he is your best friend, he is even better. He helps you solving your problems, he is there to listen to you and to give you some advice. Very often, if someone dares to insult or approach you in an inappropriate way, he wouldn't think twice about beating this person and remind them with who they were talking about.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with Mello are essential. Especially after a long, stressful day. He loves hearing his S/O's heartbeat against his skin or smelling the wonderful aroma of your shampoo. Those sound and smells help him calm down since they remind him of you. But this particular side of Mello's personality are reserved only to you in private places like the bedroom; outside, among other people, he would act as bold and unconcerned about those “useless” things.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Mello is too young for those things. His only desire is to live his life to the fullest without thinking about chores or things like that. However, he admits he can cook many dishes but he would never do it. Instead, he loves helping his S/O baking cakes or sweets (but only if he is in a good mood).

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If his S/O breaks up: he would feel overwhelmed: breaking things or shooting at cans and bottles at the hideout's shooting range or just avoiding eye contact with you. The moment he heard those words he felt the world falling on him, his heart was cold again.

If Mello breaks up: he is overwhelmed as well. Because he doesn’t want to do it but he has to. His life was becoming too dangerous for you and he couldn’t bare seeing you in pain. Sure, that separation would make you suffer anyways but at least you aren’t physically injured or dead because of him.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

If to settle down is a no for Mello, marriage is a total different thing. Despite he doesn’t believe couples need a piece of paper to prove their love, he wouldn’t mind seeing his S/O in nice and elegant clothes walking down the aisle.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Mello can be considered as a rough person both emotionally and physically speaking. Of course he considers your emotions too but his past and the responsibilities pushed him into the rough side.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Mello is a touched-starved boy. If you're alone with him, please touch him as much as you can: delicate hair brushing with fingers, soft caresses over his scar or arms and hugs. Oh, he loves hugs so much (but always in alone times). Sometimes he would hug his S/O a bit too tightly but you like it anyway.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He wouldn’t say it by his own initiative, at first. But once he heard it from you, he couldn’t get enough of it. He starts saying it more often just to hear you say it back. But, as many other things, it depends on his mood.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh no, don’t make this young boy jealous. A stranger is too close to you? He would suddenly appear at you side and check the situation. Someone has a flirtatious behaviour with you? He would remind that person that they were three: you, him and his gun. However, around your friends he wouldn’t be jealous since he knows them, and if you trust them he trusts them as well.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Mello is very passionate with kisses, he loves telling you his most personal feelings through kisses. Sometimes those simple kisses become true make out sessions. Anyway, he loves when you kiss his scar: that gesture makes him feel so much loved and a wide smile will appear on his exhausted face.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Ugh, children. Another no for Mello. He is very awkward around them, he thinks they're too energetic and undisciplined for his taste. He could bare calm and educated children but the others…nu-uh.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Not matter what time is it, you two have to spend at least a good hour together cuddling in the bed. Then, sooner or later, you have to leave your warm bed and start your day. You are appointed to prepare breakfast while Mello would look at you with tired yet admiring eyes.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night is Mello's favourite part of the day. He loves the atmosphere night creates he could be himself finally. He would go out with his S/O for a ride to show you a new place he discovered or just to have your arms wrapped around him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He is very slowly in opening up. He must be 100% sure about the person he likes before saying something about himself. But even in that case, he thinks there's not much to talk about. If you want to know something about him or his past, you have to subtlety ask him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

His strong emotions don’t make him a patient person. He is a hothead, someone with a short temper. However, he does his best not to lose his patience when you're involved but even with you he could explode and start yelling. This is the only time you could hear him sincerely apologise and he'd never lay a hand on you. Never.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Mello has a very good memory. Every date, name and event are printed in him memory like a book. However, he once forgot about your birthday (he was so buried with work that time) but he soon made it up to you by buying you F/F bouquet.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Ugh, for him it sounds so embarrassing but he reminds very well the first time the two of them confessed their feelings for each other. His excellent memory played an important role: he remembers what his S/O wore, the place when it happened and even what time it was. He would replay that moment over and over in his mind during cuddle times.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective but not in an overprotective and obsessive way. Of course he would be scared and worried if you don’t answer his calls for many hours but once you reassure him your phone was dead he would calm down. Moreover, he likes when you stand up for him during a discussion, this makes him feel loved and important.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Despite he remembers every important date, he wasn’t a "date guy". However, Mello would surprise his S/O with gifts and he will do everything he can to make you smile.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Since Mello eats chocolate every day and in every moment, without his favourite sweet he becomes rather moody and grumpy. In addition, he had to visit the dentist very often because of his (unhealthy) habit.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Mello could be quite vain about his look. We all know he has a peculiar and good taste about clothes: leather attires were his signature. He had many different rosaries and jewels in his room and he would take care of his skin as well (considering all chocolate he eats every day).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Outside people would see a cold and emotionless face but the truth is that he would feel alone and devastated. Without you Mello was just an empty shell, all his movements would be mechanic; since you were everything for him, your loss would push him in a slow downfall.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has the rare skill to appear fabulous with any outfit: rock? Perfect. Punk? Even better. One of your dresses? Majestic (it's a sight reserved to you thou).

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Mello loves when his S/O shares their opinion with him. It means he hates if his partner just nods at everything he says. He thinks sharing different opinions and point of view is one of the many keys in a relationship and he couldn’t stay with someone who doesn’t do that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

When Mello is particularly tired, he has the strange habit to fall asleep in different and strange places: on a chair, on the counter and even on the ground. In these cases, if his S/O finds him in such positions you have to move him somewhere else or (even better) move him on the bed.

#death note #death note headcanons #mello #mihael keehl #death note alpphabet #sfw alphabet #mello x reader #mello x you #reader insert

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natsukitakama · 3 years

Text

Headcanon : Reader being nice to Floch even though he is jerk

Request : Well since Floch seem to be a type of guy who criticize people then how about he criticize s/o as well but instead of her getting offensive, she actually thank him for being honest since she’s a type of person who’s okay with criticism and also want the truth since some people usually don’t do it because they’ll feel bad that they know it’ll hurt people and that s/o is also a type of person who sees good on everyone including Floch even tho he seem like a jerk guy she still sees good on him and really curious in how would he react 👀

Author note : Hi there I’m sorry for taking so long, I needed some time of my own hope you’ll understand. I found your request quite interesting considering this part of his personality isn’t the most attractive. But still it’s part of who he is. Anyway hope you’ll enjoy this (to be honest I struggled to finish it lmao also yeah I'm trying a new way to present my post one day I'll be satisfied)

Update : Because I got so much fun writing his reaction from a reader who is thanking him for his opinion while he was harsh on them. In this headcanon, they started as companion but then it would be imply that both of them are together or at least something is happening. Hope you’re fine with that.

Warning : Cursing / Floch being a mean / mention of something that happened in season 3 but its vague

Disclaimer : Not because I’m writing about Floch means I understand what’s he done, I won’t accept his action but I still believe he wasn’t developed enough. I won’t accept any criticism because my anon asked for Floch or because I write for him. If you don’t like it then do not read it ♡

I got a headcanon that look like this so see this as the other version ♡

Masterlist

The way you seemed to always accept every criticism never felt to amaze Floch. No matter who criticizes you, you’re always acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Worst he even noticed that you were glad to be critized. His first thought when he discovered that you were taking different opinion with a smile was something like « what the fuck ? »

How could you take negative though that easily ? What was your secret ?

For weeks he strongly believed that you were acting tough but when you were alone, you were crying over each word you’ve been hit on.

He wouldn’t be surprised I mean, everyone hates being criticized it’s part of our nature.

But you weren’t like this, after weeks of believing you were a liar at pretending that critics didn’t affect you, he then discovered that in fact you were taking it with serenity.

« It would help me to be a better a person » you once said to him

He didn’t get it. Like who do you think you are ?

Why aren’t you acting like Eren or Jean ? Why weren’t you angry at him ? Worst, why weren’t you defending yourself ? What was wrong with you ?

The fact that you were smiling everytime he was mean to you was getting on his nerve. For fuck sake could you at least yell at him ? At least he’ll know you were human.

He didn’t why but seeing you smiling at him, thanking him for his negative opinion got his sick. He could feel his stomach twisted as if he could throw because of your sympathy. Did you pity him ?

He even once heard a conversation between you, Eren and his crew that makes him even more sick :

« You know, you shouldn’t let him talk to you the way he did. This isn’t respectful. »

« Eren is right, want me to teach him some manners ? If it’s for you i’ll do it »

« *chuckle* Thank you Mikasa but I don’t think it would be necessary. I mean yeah he got a way to say things - »

« He is talking to you like you were shit »

« I wouldn’t say it like this Eren but yeah you got a point. Y/N I know you saw good in everyone but you have to admit that recently he is being mean to you »

« *sigh* As I was trying to say, yeah he is being mean with me but his opinion was actually good. I mean yeah I’ve been too slow during our training and yes I shouldn’t forgot to pack some gas with us. My point is he was right, he just got a way to talk to people »

« Come on everyone makes mistake and it wasn’t like HE thought about taking Gas bottle too. He got some balls to says that »

« Eren is right Y/N. »

« But he was still right. I mean he forgot but I forgot too, if no one is meticulous in real battle it could be dangerous. Besides he is not as mean as everyone thinks. I can see it, there is good in him »

« Well he is doing a good job at hiding it. Remembered how he talked to Armin when he woke up ? That piss of sh- »

« *sigh* Yeah he shouldn’t say it the way he did but you need to understand his point too. He was all alone with his friends and his commander which he used to worship by the way, he had to run with his friends knowing he would die either from stone or because he’ll be eaten by a Titan. For him Erwin was a hero, of course his first reaction was to want him to survive. Caporal Levi did it too, he wanted Erwin to survive he only have the injection because Erwin told him too. »

« Maybe. But I still believe this man has no education »

« *chuckle* you used to be a little shit too when you first came, acting all cocky because you were about to kill titans but everyone looked through it and now we all love our precious angry soldier »

Eren then proceed to grumble something about not being angry while everyone was laughing. How could you say that ? Why were you protecting him ? Did he ask you to protect him ? No ? Then why are you seeing all those things at him ? Why were you saying that he got a point when all he did was telling you how shitty you were. He was bullying you why were you nice to him ?

The worst when he started to have a crush on you. Was he a sadist or something ? Why was he looking at you everytime you were training ? Why was he offended when someone compliment you ? You’re just in love bitch

Did he stop being mean at you ? No not at all, it would be out of character for him. BUT he started to be « gentle » about the way he critices you. For example he won’t told you that you suck at being a soldier because you were starting to feel tired because of the training instead he would scold you for not sleeping enough.

See ? He still gives you critics and some time he is a bit harsh but now you’ve noticed (even though you already did) that he was actually carrying about you.

So you started to thank him even more for his kind word, which disgust him. Why were you thanking him anyway ?

At some point he stopped trying to figure out if you were a masochist or just silly, he keeps scolding you everytime you did something wrong and he just shrugs each time you were thanking him.

But then you started to defend him even more, you weren’t just trying to justify his action by analyzing his behavior.

Now you were arguing with people who were telling some shit about him which surprised him. Why do you care ? He didn’t give a damn about some fools’ opinion nor should you.

But here you were explaining your point, trying to make them understand that no he wasn’t just a jerk and there were something more important to get to know. He froze.

« Come on Y/N don’t fool yourself Floch is a jerk have you seen him ? All he cares is himself. He is so fool of himself. Did you notice the way he is talking to you ? How could you defend someone like him ? »

« Because he cares about him and because I care about him too. You asked if I noticed the way he was talking to me, I did. He stopped being mean at me, and started to give me advice to help me during my training. He noticed my lack of stamina and told me to practice and sleep better. He scold be for always forgetting something and now I’m careful. All he need was to help me, how am I supposed to avoid fight when you’re clearly misunderstanding him. He is someone good, you just need to get to know him »

This time instead of feeling sick, he felt a little warm running into his body especially on his face. He felt … good ? He couldn’t explain it but yeah he felt right to hear you saying this even though he still didn’t understand why you were like this while you two barely talk together.

He wanted to confront you about.

Especially because he started to dream about you even more than before. That scene when you were defending him was keeping playing in his head, again and again. At this point you were always on his dream. Not that he will complain but he felt silly to be like this, like to him they were no way you were into him.

So one day when you two were cleaning the training room, Floch decided it was now or never. So after closing the door to be in « peace », he walked into your direction. Step by step he noticed that he got trouble at taking a deep breath probably because he was scared or anxious.

When he finally was in front of you, you noticed his frown and started to ask yourself what was wrong with him. He wasn’t so anxious, usually he came talk to you all cocky to correct you but now it was as if he was talking to Caporal Levi.

« Are you okay ? »

« Of course I am why wouldn’t I ? »

« I don’t know you look like tense. Did I do something wrong ? »

« Obviously yeah. I mean you’re always doing something wrong but that’s not why I’m here »

« Oh yeah ? »

« Yeah. »

« Then ? »

« Then what ? »

« Why are you here ? If you’re not here to scold me »

« I wanted to know why you’re acting so nice »

« I’m acting nice ? »

« Yeah don’t play dumb to me. I heard you talking with Eren and that bunch of shitty friends also I saw you with those stupid soldiers talking dirty about me. Why were you defending me ? »

« Why not ? I mean they are not angel either so I don’t see the point of being mean »

« But i’am »

« Excuse me ? »

« You said there’s no point of being mean about someone but I’m mean. Especially with you I remember correctly telling you that you being a soldier was a shame for humanity »

« Yeah that wasn’t nice by the way »

« See ? You’re smiling ! Why is wrong with you ? »

« What ? Because I can’t smile ? »

« No ! Not when I’m being mean at you that completely strange »

« Well then I’m a weirdo I guess »

« Okay I’m done I knew I couldn’t get anything from you »

« I’m sorry but I don’t see what’s wrong with my behavior ? »

« You can’t smile when someone is saying bad things about you »

« Why not ? You’re being honest. »

« But it’s mean »

« Yeah and ? At least you’re not trying to be nice with me when in fact you can’t stand me. I hate hypocrite I prefer when people are honest with me. Besides as I said before your critics were interesting it helps me getting better so I don’t see why I would be mad at me »

« I don’t get it I’m sorry, even if it helps you. You could at least slap me for being mean at you »

« Do you want me to spank you Floch ? »

« I- I say slap me and not like this I-I oh my god I can’t »

« *laugh* but you’re the one talking about slapping I’m sorry I didn’t know it was your thing I’ll take it in mind »

« YOU … Wait are you making fun of me ? »

« Maybe ? »

Then you just laugh and finish your duty, leaving a completely frozen Floch.

You’re kinda broke him, he didn’t know how to behave with you anymore.

Should he be glad because you’re not angry at him for being a jerk ? Or should he be concerned because you figure out something he didn’t want to admit ?

Again, he started to be less a jerk around you. But you noticed that it worked only for you. Floch was still… Floch around other people. He just tends to be soft with you, he stopped scolding you and in fact correct you each time you were doing a wrong move. And when you were loosing or forgetting something, he just gave you what you needed without complaining.

People were surprised, like they weren’t used to see Floch not acting like a jerk. They also didn’t understand why you weren’t treated like everyone else. Some of them got their theory but for now all they could notice was Floch not being as mean as usual with you while you were acting nice with him. For both of you that’s all matter

#request #attack on titan #attack on titans #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #Floch Forster #Floch x reader #floch forster x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #Eren Jaeger #Floch x y/n #Floch x t/p #aot Floch #snk Floch

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amymel86 · 3 years

Note

Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #wip wednesday #but late #oops

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biggirllifestyle · 3 years

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Over the Rails: Sparkly bands

Summary: After Peter posts, a video of him and his friends at the roller rink on the Avengers group chat, Bucky can’t seem to get his mind off of Peter’s friend who stole the show. And after getting goaded into going skating with the other Avengers (by Natasha’s conniving planning) where Peter’s friend works at well Bucky can’t help but feel that there’s something more to look towards to.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-Sized Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of physical harm from roller skating, etc.

A/N: It’s something…

If you would have asked her what was going through her mind the moment her eyes landed on Bucky Barnes, well Bibi could have told you that she was freaking the fuck out. She thought that nothing else could embarrass her more than that stupid speech Peter had made her do for losing a wager, but here she was right after face to face with her childhood hero and crush of many years and the only thing she thought of saying to him was ‘What’ll be Sarge?’

Ugh, pathetic.

Here was her chance to finally talk to people who were the most unselfish individuals, who. put their life on the line for the greater good and today she was to become their mentor. Sergeant Barnes seemed to be entertained by her flustered remark, a beautiful smile spreading across his face that made her heart flutter. The Black Widow was sitting on the counter putting on her skates, Bibi didn't feel like she had the guts to let her know that she wasn’t allowed to be on the counter so she let her be.

“I’ll take a pair of twelve in a half skates, doll,” Bucky said as he saw her turn towards the shelf grabbing him a pair of dark faded skates. Her cheeks were burning bright red and Bucky felt a deep satisfaction for being the reason. Somebody yelled out her name from the rink, so she gave him an apologetic smile before pushing herself off and skating towards whoever had called her, Bucky couldn’t help but stare as she glided around with ease.

Natasha shimmied herself closer to where he had bent down to tug off his boots, from the corner of his eyes he could see her dark red skates swinging back and forward nonchalantly but he knew better than that. He looked up at her waiting for a teasing remark but her expression was enough especially as she wiggled her eyebrows at him, taunting him.

Pathetic.

Bucky looked away, lasering on, tying his skates avoiding Nat’s eyes, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe he wasn't cut out for skating as he used to be, maybe Steve had exaggerated a little bit when he was talking about his experience. He stood ready to take a step forward before wobbling, almost losing his footing and falling, okay maybe Steve had exaggerated too much. Natasha jumped off the counter landing neatly on her skates without any form of trouble before throwing him a mocking grin as she skated away, Bucky glared at her retreating form as he finished getting his laces tied, he stood and took a confident step forward and almost broke his nose as his foot slipped he caught himself on the encounter.

He looked up trying to make out if his slip was caught by anybody but it seemed no one had been paying attention to him, he tried again a little more tentatively wobbling towards where Tony, Pepper who had just arrived with Morgan, Steve, and Sam were standing around watching the others get instructions from Peter’s girlfriend on how to stand on their skates, Peter, Shuri, Ned were already skating around trying to outmaneuver each other to see who could do a better move.

He looked around trying to see where you were when he finally spotted you, Morgan, at your side clinging to your arm as she followed in slower glides from her skates, you had taken a slow pace to accommodate to her still being a beginner your skirt flowed around you, and Bucky was mesmerized.

“Wow!” Pepper exclaimed. “She’s going to be amazing with the kids.”

Bucky roused from his trance as he turned towards Pepper who was watching you closely as you and Morgan skated by as both of you raised a hand at them and waved, Tony stood by a camera in hand taking pictures and videos. She turned to him, a small smirk in place as she gave a side glance at Tony who was trying very hard to avoid the conversation.

“Nat might have mentioned you would have an interest in anything on our new nanny/tutor for Morgan and Charlie.”

“New nanny, since when?”

“Since last week, Peter mentioned she was majoring in child development and education and was in dire need of a job. Morgan needed a tutor and we also needed someone who could help me out with Charlie when I had to show up to meetings and Tony was out on missions, so it was a win-win situation.”

Bucky’s curiosity was piqued by the extra information he was given on you, and just as he was about to indirectly ask for more Nat had skated over hitting him at the back of his head.

“What are you doing over here?” She asked as he ignored his pointed glare as he tried to soothe the spot where she had hit him “The whole point of making this happen was for you to be able to get a chance and talk to this girl, so get your ass out there sergeant.”

Buck huffed out a breath knowing it was true and feeling a little triumph in getting Natasha to confess that this was all her doing. He took a step forward as the music changed to a much more upbeat tempo, something that made him feel confident about what he was doing as he finally stepped on the floor you zoomed past him as you gave a full 180 turn that left him a little speechless. Knowing that he was interrupted earlier and maybe this was his only chance to have a conversation with you so Bucky squared his shoulders and took a small little step forward.

And he fell.

Bucky had fallen right on his face in front of everybody and this time it could not be ignored.

He heard Natasha’s laugh from behind him, her loud cackles making his annoyance flair up as he tried to get up but his skate slipped and he fell once more making her laugh harder at him. He looked to his left trying to find Nat and send her a very helpful finger but the only thing he saw was an exchange of money from Tony to her as they clearly ignored his mortification of the situation. He felt like nothing else could go even worse, maybe he could go to Fury and ask him to send him on a mission deep in the jungle where he could disappear for a year or so.

“Are you okay? Do you need some help?”

Forget the jungle, Antártica sounded so much better at this moment. He looked up his hair getting in the way as he saw you crouching down a few feet away giving him space so he wouldn’t be startled by her proximity, he knew that if he were to try and get up by himself it would end back with him sprawled on the floor so he lightly gave a nod at her as confirmation. Just as you were in the crouching position you used your hands to glide towards him, your skirt dragging on the dirty ground and he couldn’t help the frown on his face when he saw it.

It was a pretty skirt. He thought.

You didn’t reach out to him or tried to lift him as others would do but instead, you held out your hand palm up, giving him a say when he wanted to take your hand. He hesitated as he took your hand, it was so soft that he didn't want to let it go. After you gave him a small boost and explained to him the perfect way to position his feet so he didn't slip again, Bucky was up towering over you, your hands holding him so there wasn’t another incident.

“It’s much harder than what people think.” You said to him as you let him go, Bucky pushed his hair back, he had forgotten to bring a hair tie that Nat had given to him earlier in the day so here he was struggling with his hair as he tried to get it in control, you held out your hand again and Bucky felt his heart jump at the sparkly hair tie you were holding out to him.

“People think it’s all fun and games until they break a few bones and twist a few ankles, then they decide that skating just isn’t for them.”

Bucky looked at you as he finished picking up his hair trying to see if you were joking or not a small little smile danced upon your lips and he couldn’t help the small laugh he let out.

“Sacrifices should be made when you want to improve yourself.”

You nodded at his words behind you he could see Morgan dragging along Thor helping him glide about as he held her small hand in his, he turned back to you as you gave him a smile holding out your hand to his.

“I was told you wanted some private lessons, how about you take my hand and trust that I will be the best teacher you've probably ever had.��

#plus size #plus size ofc #plus size oc #original work #bucky fanfic #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Three Asks

It’s been a while since we answered some asks so today and maybe tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, we’ll collect some and answer them since we’ve gotten while a few in the last two or three weeks.

In today’s post I picked out the three most recent asks we’ve received, two of which are ones I’d usually just delete because answering is pointless but one of them showcased a popular pattern so we decided to reply just this once. So this time around the questions are about Namjoon and Seokjin, next time we’ll do ones about Tae and Jimin (and vmin), and so on.

Ask 1 - Did Namjoon have to bring up the criticism he received in 2015/16 in the Juju Chang interview?

Ask 2 and 3 - questions from either diet solos (someone who isn’t quite a solo stan just yet but exhibits the same thought patterns as solos do) or full on solo stans.

From anon: So you must have seen their interview alongside the President right on a news show? Most of it was fine and I liked how involved they were especially JK, but a point Namjoon made is what I'm kinda dicey about. He addressed that they were called out for WoH lyrics but the thing is I'm not sure if it needed to be brought up. Especially in American media and the way they contextualize things..

Obviously he meant that they grew from it but not sure if that was the way to put it I guess?

I will admit, there aren’t many times when asks that get sent to us annoy me, but this one in conjunction with the absolute nonsense that took place about this on twt just made my blood boil. Let’s look at the question and answer so we have full context when it comes to the interview and then, after that, we’ll look at the greater context of why Namjoon saying what he did is significant and a big deal.

Juju Chang: You guys are an all male band and, let’s face it, Korea, historically, has been a very male dominated culture and yet here at the UN one of the core values in Sustainable Development is educating women and having gender equality. You have a lot of female fans. What would you say to them about gender equality and working towards that?

Namjoon: Personally, I received a lot fo criticism regarding misogyny in 2015 and 2016, which led me to get my lyrics reviewed by a women’s studies professor. That experience, in turn, was an opportunity for me to self-reflect and question whether I’d been insensitive toward gender equality. I want to do the best I can to take interest in the topic, learn and make improvements. That’s my perspective now.

Namjoon used a personal story as framework to showcase that even someone like him, a man in a position of power/influence from a country which, as the interviewer explained, is very male dominated can learn, grow and, in the long run, contribute to change. It takes tremendous bravery to do something like this, to not only admit that you made such a mistake, but also to take it and grow from it, take the time to reflect and strive to better yourself to never repeat it again. And also talk about doing so not only during an international broadcast but also while your own president sits right there next to you.

Perhaps there are a relatively big number of countries in the west where equality is much closer to being a reality, where it is a core value to respect woman, one that you are raised with, but here the context was specifically BTS and their background, their country and their culture. From K-ARMY we know that things have taken a turn for the worse in Korea when it comes to women’s rights and the behavior of men toward them, how feminism is treated essentially as a dirty word and you will get hunted down for using it or for behaving in a feminist manner. Namjoon himself was placed on some list made by misogynists labeling him as a dirty, dirty feminist. The same men who even went after the military to get them to stop using a hand gesture which could, if you really want to, be used to make fun of a man for a small d*ck. In polls men in their 20s and 30s have voted being against feminism and I don’t mean just like 10 or 20% of voters, but rather 50-70%, even some presidential candidates have apparently been revealed as anti-feminists.

Circling back to Namjoon, having this context, do you now get why it was a big thing for him to say this, why it makes him a role model and why it was important to do so? Besides this isn’t just about the WoH lyrics which, to be frank, were never an actual issue but instead were made into one (the line I know that usually get’s brought up most is “The girls are equations, and us guys are solutions” which, if you think about it, actually means that boys and girls are equal since 2+5=7, the equation and the solution are the same, and also the song is satire about hormonal boys and their behavior which people have decided to ignore for the sake of sitting on their high horses instead). Namjoon wasn’t even the only member credited for the lyrics yet he took the blame upon himself, used this to better himself even though we know 2015 was an extremely dark time for him. But he is the leader, he took responsibility and he grew from it. He stands as example of how change is possible even in a country that is male dominated and misogynistic.

From anon: Reading your post about My universe I can’t but be heavy hearted.

It’s such a beautiful song but Jin not having almost any lines ruined the experience for me. He deserves so much more than being a mere backup vocal. Same goes to Jimin but I’m not as effected as Jin, since we’ve all seen a pattern there.

We know the boys decide collectively decide LD and how it fits their personalities and voices but I can’t but feel icky about Dynamite, not today, BS&T and now MY.

I truly hope this doesn’t continue and BH decides to respect Jin more as an artist. He’s one of the biggest reasons the group is where it is now.

Though I can’t say with 100% certainty that this comes from someone that has consumed too much solo stan “content”, it does very much feel like it and the only reason why I’m even answering this is that I’d like to highlight something, a pattern we've seen a million times over for years now in regard to line distribution but that is even more glaring and flawed in this case, after we’ve seen how My Universe was recorded:

“We know the boys collectively decide” and yet “and BH decides to respect Jin more”, with this you’re basically saying that you know all the members, including Seokjin, are involved BUT since giving him and the others slack for it would make you look bad, you instead throw blame at BH, which in this case had no say in the line distribution. That choice was Christ Martin’s to make. If you already complain about line distribution, at least have the guts to direct your hate at the people you just said yourself make the choice--the members. Solos already belittle Seokjin’s efforts as it is, and constantly demand an acting debut of him which basically, to me, just comes across as them wanting him to act because they don’t value his singing and music, so would it be really that farfetched for them to also hate on him for, what, not speaking up and demanding more to satisfy you?

Seokjin was so happy and excited while recording My Universe, while meeting Chris Martin, someone he’s admired and been a fan of for so long. He gave his best while recording and sounded absolutely marvelously, and yet instead of celebrating him, his voice, and what we do hear of him, you just focus on the negatives.

BH isn’t perfect by any means, don’t even try to come into our asks calling me a company stan or whatever because I’m far from it, but in this case they had nothing to do with it. Coldplay and Chris Martin did. We saw all the members record the chorus, and we heard it, we saw and heard Seokjin sing absolutely beautifully and get praise for it, and we saw how happy this collab has made him. Why can’t you just let this be a happy time, why must you immediately search for things to be negative about?

Would I have liked so hear more of his voice on My Universe? Obviously, I even said as much in my post about the song. I love Seokjin and his voice a lot, he is my bias wrecker for a reason. But the song has already happened, been recorded, mastered, and released. What will a negativity parade change? What? Absolutely nothing except for make him feel bad because you can’t just say “Seokjin did amazingly, I love his voice”, no, you have to go around yelling “OMG he is being cut from the song because BH hates him”. What does that do for him? Like really, tell me, because I don’t get it.

And if my opinion isn’t valid enough for you, it is, after all, just an opinion, take Seokjin’s opinion about the collab instead:

Or asks such as this one:

From anon: I honestly can’t wait for Seokjin to go solo one day. Go where he’s appreciated for his talents and musicality, not cuz he’s just a “hyung” or “comic relief” or “WWH”.

Where, tell me, has he ever expressed an interest in going solo? No, I’m serious, where, because all I know is that he is happy with his members, with what he does, that he enjoys making music and getting more involved than he used to. Just the other day during the interview with Juju Chang he spoke about how he misses the old times where he could go for soju and food with Yoongi to spend some time together.

And just a few years before that Yoongi said that Seokjin has been good from the beginning, and there are tons of other examples of the members praising Seokjin in terms of his voice and musicality. When he was going through burnout last year, Bang PD encouraged him to channel his thoughts and feelings into music, recommended him a producer he thought work well with him, and Seokjin said it really did help him. And we got Abyss as result from it all, a gorgeous and raw song.

Yes, he gets praise for being a good hyung, because guess what, he is a good hyung. Maybe for you that’s not good enough, but he’s proud of it, has always taken the fact that he’s the eldest seriously even when goofing around with his members. How is that a bad thing?

Seokjin loves his members and they love him. Seokjin loves ARMY and we love him back tenfold. Just because solos hate the members and aren’t satisfied with Seokjin, how is that my issue or even his? If you’re a genuine fan of his, support his hard work, support all his contributions to BTS’ music, their performances, their dancing, and everything else. Because he is part of BTS regardless if you like it or not, and as far as we are aware, he doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon, or at all.

#answered ask #namjoon #seokjin

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poptod · 3 years

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The Breeding Kings (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahkmen’s new school year starts with a bang.

Notes: guess who has imposter syndrome!!!! heres my next work i think??? idk where my inspiration is gonna pull me at any given time. i just wanna say this takes place when ahk’s pretty young! not like ten or something lmao but lets just say hes not an adult. by the way, the reader is indian (indus valley, at the time). WC: 7.3k

"Don't we look like a dream?"

A sharp inhale brought his eyes to shoot open, staring through the cold air to the blank ceiling above him. For a moment he frowned, as his bed had a silk canopy above it, but he quickly realized he had passed out in his friend's room again. He groaned softly, raising his hand to rub his face.

"What... happened last night?" He grumbled, his voice turning to a whisper when the volume of it left him wincing.

No response.

"Piye?"

Ahkmen raised himself, though very strenuously, and looked over the tables and stools thrown beside him. Splinters nearly dug into his fingertips, but he jerked away before anything could lodge.

Piye was much in the same position. Quite literally, with their limbs strewn about, hair a knotted mess upon their head. The only difference was that Piye was lying face down, their face squished into one of the table legs. He almost laughed, but even the spreading of a smile sparked a headache, so instead he poked his blacked out friend.

They groaned, loudly, but did not move. Ahkmen continued to poke them until they finally had enough, pushing themselves upwards.

"What the hell do you want?" They asked, their voice low and scratchy. Even their eyes had yet to open, stuck shut with crushed eyelashes.

"What did we do last night?" He asked in a mumble, resting his weight on the thin edge of a fallen table.

"You invited Panya and she killed us with beer," Piye breathed out, shielding their eyes from the sun with their hand.

"Fuck," said Ahkmen. "An... what day's today?"

Piye breathed very deeply before opening their mouth, letting out a roar of a yell, "DAD?!? What's today??"

Ahkmen winced away, covering his ears until Piye lay back down, still relaxing into the pile of chairs and tables.

"It is the eleventh of Khuiahk," came Adom's voice from around the corner of the tiny hallway leading to the door of Piye's room. Ahkmen heard a flip of papyrus before he spoke again, "you have school today, if that's what you're wondering."

"Ah... shit," Piye sighed.

"That means I have school too," Ahkmen said with widening eyes, a pitiful sense of dread overcoming his hangover. "I can't learn like this. I haven't showered since yesterday, I – I barely have a hold on my thoughts, I can't stand loud noises –"

"If you can still gripe like that, you're fine," Piye said flatly, lying for a moment more before their eyes opened, making way for them to sit up and stand.

"But –"

"Calm down, my Prince," Piye said with a derisive bow. "It's quite alright. I'll get us ready within the hour."

Having Piye as a friend came in handy a number of times, but especially when it came to maintaining his image of a perfect son. His parents adored him dearly, but Ahkmen was convinced that that status could be stripped at any moment, and that they would begin to treat him as they did his brother, Kamun. Thus having Piye to excuse away his mistakes was beyond helpful to him, let alone the secret capabilities of the palace physician's child.

In a calm-as-ever demeanor, Piye shoved both him and themself into clothes too warm for the sunshine already beating down on them through windows. The Prince felt a little off––a little more disgusted with himself than usual––but his discomfort was quickly remedied with a stop by the Nile, where the two quickly washed themselves.

Returning into clothes was made easy by the sun that dried the water on their skin within a minute of leaving the river. The two dressed, shoving their legs into skirts and golden bands as they walked, stumbling through the streets with soaking wet hair.

"One last stop," Piye said before they reached the center of the city, pulling Ahkmen off down a hidden alley.

Boxes and carts of goods had been stacked as wide as the thin alley, but they were easily climbed, and the two found themselves in an entirely different part of town.

"How quick is this stop going to be? We're already going to be late," Ahkmen said, but continued to follow Piye without fail.

"Wouldn't worry about it," they assured as they directed him into a tent of red and purple drapes.

Smoke welled in the ceiling, already uncomfortably low for Ahkmen, and even worse for Piye. It must've been important, whatever Piye was trying to do, as they were particularly sensitive about their height at times, and tried not to draw attention to it. The only true light inside the tiny shop was the burning incense, and what little sun could make it through the dark fabric that made up the ceiling and walls. When Ahkmen caught the scent, he recognized it easily––myrrh.

"What are we doing here?" Ahk whispered, trying to look over Piye's shoulder as they led the way through continuous halls of silk.

"Yogi?" Piye said, knocking against the first hard surface they could find.

There was a moment of silence before the wall of satin before him rustled, rippling till it split open to reveal you; a small, foreign child about his age, with a bright red dot on your forehead above wide eyes. His heart thumped erratically as you met his gaze. While he couldn't directly place where you were from, the style of your home and lavish clothes as well as your facial features assured him you were not Egyptian.

"Be needing something, Piye?" You said in a thick accent, looking up at the magi who towered above you.

"One of your drinks," they said. You nodded and ducked back into your room.

"We don't need more to drink," Ahkmen whispered.

"It's a hangover cure. You'll be wanting it."

"Oh."

A moment later you returned, two clay cups in hand swirling with a red mixture. Ahkmen looked suspiciously into the liquid, trying to decipher the ingredients, before Piye knocked their whole cup back and swallowed it in a single gulp. Scuffing his sandal against the floor, he copied his friend's movements.

Sweet, but thick. Like dough, but slimy, and the sensation of it slowly sliding down his throat only brought about more questions as to the ingredients.

"You must be one of their friends," you said once they both finished, handing their mugs to you.

"Well, um..." Ahkmen looked up to Piye, "yes. We're on our way to Osiris' temple."

"You are, then... students?"

"Yes. I study language and morals, Anpu here studies law," Piye answered for him, patting Ahkmen's shoulder.

"The bell will start soon. You should go, the priests are not made of give," you said as you set the cups aside, showing them out the door.

Blazing sun burnt the back of his eyes as he stepped outside, back into the radiating heat and the empty street, which lay an alley's walk away from the Temple of Osiris. He squinted, searching for the boxes he'd climbed earlier.

"Over here," Piye directed him, and he followed.

"Where's your friend from? Doesn't sound like –"

"- like Egyptian is their first language," Piye finished. "I've never bothered to ask, but if I had to guess, somewhere in the east. Our friendship is mostly limited to school, and medicine."

"They study medicine?" Ahkmen asked incredulously. If you weren't native to Egypt, and it was painfully obvious you weren't, it would be a feat beyond God to achieve any form of education concerning the human body.

"Not proper medicine, mind you. It's back-alley magic," Piye said, opening the door to the temple and allowing Ahkmen to pass in front of them.

"Quite literally," Ahkmen mumbled beneath his breath, scanning the main temple for any sign of the priests.

"Right."

"And what was with that fake name?"

"I don't think they –"

"I cannot imagine it will be a fantastic impression on your teachers that you are late on your first day of schooling," came a voice from behind them.

Both Ahkmen and Piye whirled around, wide eyes meeting the High Priest of Osiris, an older man named Yafeu that had never been fond of the royal family. Fortunately, he would not be teaching anyone––the High Priest's position was 'too important' to concern itself with the younger generations teachings. Osiris and his temple required constant cleaning, as well as regularly cleaned offerings of jewels and flowers, plates of delicacies that reached the knee of the massive statue sat at the head of the temple.

In fact, that was where Ahkmen stood; before the statue of Osiris. Somewhere he was not supposed to be.

"We're having trouble finding our class," Piye said before Ahkmen could even think of how to reply.

Yafeu raised a single brow, scanning the both of them with an unimpressed expression. He raised his finger to point at a small door behind Osiris.

"That way."

"Thank you, sir," Piye said with a small bow, taking Ahkmen's hand and rushing him out the door.

While the temple of Osiris held much land, and much of it was occupied by caretakers both priestly and humble, who worked to please Osiris, commoners and non-priests were generally not allowed. Gardens bloomed around the sacred lake, lovingly tended to fit the needs of the temple.

As Ahkmen and Piye walked down the long, open hallway, which on the left side held the many rooms of those working in the temple, and on the right displayed the wealth of the courtyard, the Prince wondered upon the subject of the temple. Very few people were allowed inside––hence his apprehension upon being caught––but considering the amount of people it took to care for the temple, it seemed to him a little unfair that others couldn't come to bow at the statue's feet.

Perhaps the priests, and his father, did not want commoners coming to Osiris with petty issues.

"You handled that quite well," Ahkmen said as he noted the arch to class approaching.

"I fucking hate priests," they seethed, but the expression gave way for a smile in an instant when they both entered the room.

Yafeu might've been old, but the priests that retired into teachers were much older. Last year, Ahkmen's teacher had been a much younger scribe, but this year his class of four would be taught by a priest who had spent his better years tending to Sobek's temple, and consequently had lots of experience with crocodiles. That was about the only interesting thing about the man, except for the fact that his name was Setet, which according to Ahk’s classmate meant 'Daughter of Set'.

A very strange name indeed. Ahkmen let the thought of it occupy his thoughts for a minute or two, but grew quickly bored of the subject, and eventually his mind wandered back to the events of the morning. If Setet had the gall to be this uninteresting, Ahkmen could be allowed time to think and gather himself.

Last night, he thought, chewing on his bottom lip. What had happened?

The details were fuzzy in his head––more a mess of mangled half-memories soaked in beer and wine. According to Piye, who now sat cross-legged on the carpet beside him, something had happened with his friend Panya that made both of them drink a lot of beer. A drinking contest, maybe––Ahkmen was, at times, too prideful for his own good.

Panya couldn't really be considered a friend. She was rarely ever kind to him, and he treated her in much the same light. Despite her crude behavior, she was quite beautiful, and attended the same prestigious school as he did––only in a different class.

What is he talking about? he thought to himself blearily, trying to focus back in on the man in front of him talking.

Then there was the question of you––the pretty little potionmaker––and with that thought implanted in his mind, he left the classroom in every way imaginable except physical.

Ahkmen very rarely met anyone from other countries that weren't royal, so the sudden presence of you was something he could think about for a good, long while as he waited out the school day. He thoroughly enjoyed any research into the cultures and activities of citizens in countries his own and not his own.

You came up about to his shoulder––which meant you were only as tall as Piye's elbow––and your skin was of a darker, more vibrantly red color than those of the Egyptians he usually related himself to. The lighting in your tent had been subpar, making it hard for him to recall what color that dot on your forehead had been. All he could remember was that it existed.

The hangover remedy you had concocted had, without Ahkmen entirely noticing, taken away his headache and minimized his sensitivity to light and sound, which convinced the Prince that you had some sort of schooling behind you. Maybe you weren't as poorly as you looked––all respect to you, of course––and, maybe, you were someone of similar noble standing.

He wasn't sure which theory he liked more.

Unfortunately, he couldn't remember your name, and now that class had started he would have to wait until lunch to ask Piye.

When midday finally did come around, he, Piye, and the other two students in his class were excused to the garden. In the center of the courtyard, the High Priest readied himself for the midday ceremony by bathing in the sacred lake placed there by hand. Clerks and jewellers flitted about from place to place, carrying the finished products of beautiful works that would never see the light of day beyond Osiris' temple. Similarly, weavers and barbers tended to Yafeu as he bathed in preparation.

"What was that eastern brewer's name again?" Ahkmen asked, tugging on Piye's skirt as he attempted to catch up with their long strides.

"The one from the alley? Yogi," they said with a curious tilt of their head. "Why?"

"Oh, I've been thinking about it all morning. I couldn't remember but I know you called them by name."

"Right. Hungry?" Piye asked, stopping before the door to the kitchens.

"I want to find Panya first," Ahk said as he scanned the courtyard.

"Well I want to eat. If you want to try and wade through that crowd for a woman who hates you, go ahead," Piye said, waving him off before promptly slamming the door behind them as they left.

"... right," Ahkmen muttered to himself under his breath.

There were far too many people going about the temple that, standing from his position, it was impossible to see everyone. One thing he did know about Panya, though; she always brought her own food and always sat alone.

Ten minutes later Ahkmen found himself yelling up into a tree that Panya had managed to scale.

"Get lost, goldie!" She yelled from above, picking one of the dates and lobbing it at his head. He dodged, eyes darting down at the ground, where the date had made a dent in the dirt.

"Come on, I just have a question!" He said, squinting from the sun shining directly above him.

"The answer's no. Now go away! You're going to attract one of the priests with all that yelling," she said, cocking her chin into the sky.

"Oh, fuck you," he muttered as he at last looked down, his neck sore from craning it so long. So much for figuring out last night.

As he made his way back to the kitchens, he crossed the middle of the courtyard and spied through the pillars of stone the open door of the inner temple. Inside grew an ethereal blue light, surrounding the figures of stone, warped with smoke as Yafeu knelt to his knees before Osiris. His mouth moved in constant prayer, but Ahkmen could not hear from his distance. He could only watch.

Until one of the clerks shut the door.

He frowned, but headed on his way, soon sliding in next to his friend, Piye. They had taken a seat on one of the many carpets set out on the floor, the open roof allowing sunlight to flood the otherwise dark room. All that protected the students and chefs from the heat of the sun, as well as the heat of the ovens, was the thin tarps covering the majority of the ceiling, though not entirely. There was still room for a couple rays of unbroken sun.

"Find her?" Piye asked through a mouthful of food.

"Yes, but she wouldn't talk to me," Ahk said, irritant in his movements as he began to eat his own lunch.

"Sounds like her."

By the end of school, the sun was already cresting the horizon of low mountains, leading his shadow to tall heights as he walked with Piye, their backs to the sun. Inside the courtyard of the temple, servants and workers planted seeds in the black mud gathered from the Nile's banks. Outside it, however, bustled the busy life of Memphis markets that always received the most amount of patrons after school and work was finished for the day.

Wading through the crowd had always been more of an art than anything, though Ahkmen couldn't practice that art very well with Piye beside him. They stuck out horribly, too tall to duck beneath the swaying barrels and baskets, and unable to pass people by without seeming rude.

"Oh shit!" Ahkmen exclaimed in a moment of remembrance, raising his hand to stop Piye. "I remember why Panya came over."

"Really?" They pulled both of them to the side, pressed against a restaurant wall. "What was it?"

"Drinking contest. Remember last Friday? We had that bet and then I lost, and I had to give her one of my necklaces, but I couldn't part with any of mine, so I just stole my mother's. Then my mother started asking questions, and... oh fuck. Mother's going to kill me," Ahk said with wide eyes, raising his hands to cover his mouth.

"I would love to help you out with this problem, but she's really not going to do anything, and I need to help my father collect ingredients from the market. Is that alright?"

"Yes, I... I understand. Any advice though?"

"Go find Yogi. They might be able to help. See you," they said as they turned and left, all but their shoulders and head disappearing in the crowd.

Ahkmen had little on his persons except the clothes he wore, and the bands he had on his arms marked him as royal. They could not be sold, bartered, or traded in any way, as any non-royal found wearing them was jailed or enslaved. He could not give them to Panya in exchange. Panya might've been annoying, but she didn't deserve something like that.

Since that was the only idea he had, he found himself sneaking back towards Osiris' temple, and going through the streets leading to it in hopes of finding that alleyway once more. It was less of an alley and more of a space between two close buildings, but that distinction easily led him back to climbing over boxes of storage.

In the warm blush of evening, it was hard to make out the different alleys leading to this singular space between buildings, where nothing had been built except that tent of yours. It appeared as though you had blocked it off purposely––made your home secret for a reason.

Questions swarmed his head as he ducked beneath the flap of your home, watching his head for anything hanging too low. He raised his hand, searching for a hard surface––something to rapp his knuckles on, as Piye had.

"Uh... Yoshi?"

"My name is not that. Do not call me that," you said, walking out from behind what Ahkmen thought was a wall. He nearly jumped at your sudden appearance.

"Sorry. I was, um, here this morning, with my friend Piye? They said you might be able to help me," he said in a rambling manner, playing with his fingers.

"What help you need?"

"I had a bet with this girl from my school, and she ended up with my mother's necklace, and I need that necklace. My mother was asking me about it earlier, so I know she's noticed."

"Hmm..." you glanced to the side, placing your hands on your hips. "What was.. your bet on?"

"Drinking contest."

"Ah," you said with a sudden smile. "No problem. You find your girl, bring her here. I will give her my beer."

"You brew beer?" Ahkmen asked incredulously, his eyes widening. Beer-making was something generally reserved for adults.

"I do many things. Do not worry. She will not die," you said, shaking your head as though that would assure him.

"Why would she die?!" Ahkmen asked with even larger eyes.

"I just tell you she will not die! Now go grab her. I will be here with your cups. Tell her you want to do it again," you said, pushing him out the door. He was not at all swayed by your efforts, but allowed you to move him anyway, and soon he stood outside in an evening where the sun had set too fast.

A chill ran over his skin, at which point he acutely missed the warmth of your tent. How you kept it so comfortable, as well as clean in there was a mystery, but that was not at the forefront of his thoughts. Instead he tried to recall where Panya might be––perhaps at school, perhaps at home, or maybe with her friend. She only had one.

After clambering back over the wall of boxes and crates, he snuck back into the courtyard of the temple, keeping a careful eye on any movement he saw. The task proved hard after about five seconds of being in there, as the next ceremony was soon approaching. The Priests would put Osiris to rest for the night.

In several of the rooms he passed, he found other children of noble bearings discussing quietly with the older priests and clerks, who passed the time of their elderly years raising the next generation. He checked each door, but in the end he found Panya on the edge of one of the creeks that ran like veins with the lifeblood of the Nile.

"Can we talk now?" He asked, taking great enjoyment in her surprise as she turned.

"I'd prefer we didn't," she said, turning back to look at the river.

"If I recall correctly," which he did not, "I won last night's contest, right? That puts us at a tie."

"You big liar," said Panya, who also did not recall the events of last night. "I quite distinctly remember rubbing your face in my win."

"Come now, all I'm offering is one more drinking contest. You get to get drunk for free. If you win, I... I'll owe you one favor. One thing you ask of me, I'll do, no questions asked. If I win, I get that necklace back."

"You're vain sometimes, you know that?" She said in a quieter voice as he stood to face her, watching her fingers play with the massive emerald that now dangled from her shoulders.

"So are you."

She raised an unimpressed brow, scanning the Prince before she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Very well. Is Piye going to be overlooking it again?"

"No, no," Ahk said with a dismissive hand, dropping his other to grab Panya's hand and direct her along. "They're busy tonight. I've got someone else on board."

It took a little convincing to get the noble girl to climb up and over the boxes for a secret part of the city, but he eventually won her over and directed her inside your tent. She was about your height––maybe a little taller––and had no problems standing in your low-roof home. Ahkmen on the other hand took a seat as soon as he could.

You introduced yourself with a small bow, bringing forward a low table with a long strip of embroidered cloth, upon which you placed four small cups built of what appeared to be clay. All of this you did in a smooth, practiced swoop that lasted only a moment before Ahkmen was forced to face Panya once more.

Ahkmen might've been a desperate man––in more than one sense of the word––but he would not resort to cheating by stealing. Not to good people. Thus he would keep his word concerning the prizes of the competition, no matter how certain he was that he would fail.

He was a prince, accustomed to constant fine wines and thick beer that smelled strongly of alcohol. A sipper in small amounts.

Panya was not. She had quite a lot of money like his family, but she was far more connected with the world of other teenagers than Ahkmen was.

"I like you to state what you will win if you... win," you said, standing beside the table Ahk and Panya sat at. "That way, it is honest."

"If Panya wins, she can tell me to do one thing that I must do without question. If I win, I get that necklace back," Ahk said as he pointed to each of the things he referred to.

"Okay. Let us begin!"

Four cups. Two on either side of the centerpiece of the table. Ahkmen reached forward at the same time as Panya, grabbing the cups from the right and downing both of them quick as he could. The less he thought about it, the better. Panya soon copied him, finishing much faster than he had, and slamming the cups down so hard he nearly jumped.

"Good start," you said with a nod. "Feel good?"

"I feel about myself," Ahk offered.

"Then you have not drinking enough." You brought out another four cups in a flash. "Try not to let any of it fall!"

It burned his throat––physically burnt it from the alcohol level. No beer or wine had ever done that before, and he nearly spit it out, but managed to swallow it and hide his teary eyes at the same time. He then watched Panya carefully for any reaction, and noted the same surprise in her expression.

"Is a bit stronger. That is how my game works. By your six rounds, it only takes a cup to get a little," you grinned and rolled your eyes in two different directions. Ahk raised his brows, unable to look away, but said nothing.

"God damn," Panya said after downing the second cup of her's on the table. "Where do you get this stuff?"

"I make it. It is levels of dizziness."

"Do you mean drunkenness?" Ahkmen asked, looking apprehensively down into his second cup.

"Whatever. It is family's secret. I sell it to markets, get a good price, people like becoming drunk," you said with a shrug, taking the old cups, and refilling them with yet another mixture.

"Come now, Ahk," Panya chuckled from across the table. "Gotta finish that second cup if you're gonna challenge me to this kind of a competition."

Ahkmen glared at her for a moment before raising his cup to his lips, knocking it back as he attempted to once again ignore every sensation happening in his throat.

"Good boy," you said, taking his cup and setting it on the shelf behind you.

Four more cups were then placed on the table, and the drinking continued.

By the fifth round, he was already inebriated, his tongue soaked in the numbing powers of this drink you had concocted. There was a part of his not-all-there brain that thought you had taken this drink from the underworld; some sort of backwards world where the Nile flowed with pure alcohol.

If you were telling the truth, and he quite well trusted your word this far, he could be dizzyingly intoxicated with your next drink. He barely had the state of mind to look at Panya, much less decode her own level of drunkenness. That left him blind to the status of his likelihood of winning. And yet, when the next cup was set down in front of him, he gulped it like a sober brewer. Panya did the same.

"Feeling a little of it now?" You asked with a grin.

"Some... something dike lat," he mumbled, his mouth smushed against the hand he supported his head on.

"Do you one finish?"

"... what?" Panya asked, her brow furrowed as she stared intensely at you.

"Do one of you give up?" You tried.

"Hell no," Panya said with an adamant shake of her head. "Get me another!"

"Me too!" Ahk said, raising his hand high as his head fell to the table, knocking against it with a loud thunk. He hissed, curling back on himself with little grace.

Panya snorted, leading into a long laugh as she cherished the look of drunken disdain painted over the Prince's face. You said nothing, but went to fulfill their requests, returning with the same drink as the last one.

"This my strongest drink. What you had before. It is good for you!"

"It may be good for me, but I think my friend over there is going to pass out," Panya said, grabbing you by your collar and forcing you to lean down so she could talk closer to your ear. You giggled.

"You have big strength," you said, stepping away as she downed yet another drink.

"Thank you, uh.. what's... your name?"

"... it is Yogi."

"Well then, Yogi. Another!"

If you had some sort of secret plan to get him to win, he was desperate to see it. This drink of yours had only seemed to be detrimental to him, not to Panya, and anxiousness stewed as he glanced into his cup. She was already ahead of him––to equalize the cards, he had to drink another cup, just to be equal.

You reentered the room as he knocked it back, carrying two more cups. When he set his cup down, you placed the others in front of him, and grabbed the empty one to clean it.

Ahkmen looked up, and through the haze of his thoughts, he might've seen you wink at him with a sly smile. Maybe. It was also possible you had just blinked and his eyes were being slow.

He grabbed his cup, and before he could think about it he chugged it. In a horrifying moment of clarity, he recognized the drink he'd had that morning––some sort of hangover cure that felt like smooth, squishy mud in his mouth. You returned a minute or two later, more drinks in hand. By then your mixture took effect, and much of his wooziness faded away, bringing him back to the land of sobriety before being offered his next cup.

It was all he needed.

Panya went on for a good long while, but without the special concoction she lost by the tenth round. During that time, Ahkmen had plenty enough beer, and had returned to the spinning thoughts of his alcohol-fueled brain, now focused on the one who had helped him so readily––you.

"What are – are you gonna do with... her?" Ahkmen asked through a half-stuffed nose, gesturing weakly to Panya, who had passed out in the corner only moments earlier.

"Do you know her parents?"

"... sort of," he answered vaguely. He definitely knew about them. Her father was Yafeu, and though he did not like Ahkmen, Ahkmen had a fair amount of information about him.

"Will they... scared, about her going.. missing?" You said, slowly piecing together a sentence you had clearly never said in Egyptian.

"You mean does she have to be home tonight?"

You nodded.

"She'll be fine. Her father will... worry, a little, but she can say she was sleeping in a friend's house. They won't.. uh... worry," he said in a mumble, laying his head to rest on your table.

"Then we put her to sleep. Let her rest for a while," you said, bowing your head as you collected the rest of the cups, disappearing behind yet another wall.

He tapped his fingers against the wood, keeping them close to his eyes so as to see his hand better. A long sigh left him.

"Will you go home? Or stay?" You asked upon your return.

"I – I have a lot of answers for you," he said, suddenly quite vindictive and stern as he pointed to you with a shaky finger. "And I want you.. to question..."

He trailed off as he realized his mistake. Embarrassment was clear on his face as he shriveled into himself, but you just giggled, sitting down across from him with a large bag in your lap.

"What is your questions?"

"What's your name? Your full name. You don't... seem happy when.. people say Yogi," he said, resting the majority of his weight on the pillows built up against one of the rare solid walls.

"Well, I come from a long travel. My name is not something many know here," you said with a shrug, digging your hands into the bag and rooting around it. "It is Yogasundari."

"Y.. yogetsury?" He tried on his clumsy tongue.

"Yogasundari. It is okay you can not say it. It is why most call me Yogi."

"So – where do you come from then? If y-you come from," he pushed down a hiccup, "from far away?"

"The east. My city was named Harappa. We live in a beautiful river, like you," you said, smiling a soft, thoughtful smile as you recalled images of your past. "Our city was great. Had all things. But my family is poor and it is easy to live here. We can make our own great.. um..."

"Riches?"

"Yes! Gold, and – and silk, you have, but we change the shape of iron," you said, your grin spreading into excitement. "We have good drinks. You want them here, so we come here, and we live much better than we live in Harappa."

"So you're... here with your family?" He asked in genuine curiosity, looking up at you from his collapsed position on the floor.

Your expression fell away, and an anxiousness overtook your demeanor.

"I was," you said, then frowned with spiteful eyes. "Those kings of yours kill my family, sell them. I love this, the river, but your kings are unjust. They take my parents and I never saw them again."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It is okay. It is not your fault. I have a good home and I know how to stay away from soldiers. They go everywhere in this city. Not like my home. So that is why I am here," you said, gesturing to the patterned cloths that made up your ceiling.

"And it's just you here?"

"There is the cat," you said, looking back down to his chest, where unbeknownst to him, a thin, hairless cat had made a bed.

"Oh," he whispered softly, taken aback.

The purring was nice––actually, most of the cat's presence was nice, except when he went to pet it, and it raised its' head. At that point he saw the gaping holes where eyes were supposed to be, where they probably once were, and he just about jumped out of his skin, and would have if its' claws weren't kneading at his stomach.

"What the fuck," he whispered in a tense breath.

"She is good. Very kind. You do not worry."

"Where'd you find her?" He asked, eyes darting between you and the cat.

"On the street," you said, nodding. "She comes in for eating at some times."

"... delightful."

"What of you?" You asked. "What are you from?"

"I..." he paused, recalling your contempt for the royal family, and then the much earlier occurrence of Piye using a cover name. "... my father's a priest at Osiris' temple. Not the High one, but.. one of them. That's why I go to school there, and that's how I met Panya."

"Are you good friends?"

"Not really," he chuckled. "We have our fights but I respect her, most of the time."

"More with Piye, then?"

"Mm... yeah. How'd you meet them?"

"You have to ask them. They came in my home one day and asked for my brew."

"Which one?"

"The good one," you said with a wink that had Ahkmen snorting. "I have forgot to ask your name. Your friends name you two things."

What had Piye called him that morning? Panya had used Ahk, that he knew definitively.

"Ak'anpu," he answered after a moment's thoughts.

"It is a nice name," you said, bringing your lips to a glass contraption. With one flame on the other end, you breathed in deeply, exhaling thick clouds of smoke that easily outweighed the smoke of incense already flooding the ceiling.

"What is that?" Ahk asked with a groan as he brought himself to sit up, forcing your cat to jump off his middle.

"Shemet. I get it at the markets, by the river. It is good to sleep and calm down. Want to try?" You offered the tool to him.

"Sure," he said, though he was fairly certain he'd already had this before, and that you were simply pronouncing the name strangely.

From the taste alone he recognized it as something he and Piye had used extensively at some points. It didn't pair well with beer, which he knew from experience, so he took only one more puff before handing it back to you with a quiet 'thank you'.

"I must get home to my father, he's –" he tried to stand, falling back down when he tripped over his own feet. "He's gonna want to see me in the morning."

"You are a little... drunk to be seeing a father yet," you said, a grin tugging at your lips.

"That you are most certainly 'bight'," he said as he, again, attempted to stand.

When he nearly caught his head in one of your hanging scarves, you jumped to your feet, grabbing his arm and pulling his whole body back before he ran into it. He stumbled backwards, spinning around just in time to catch himself on the wall with you in front of him.

"Oh..." he stuttered, a warmer blush filling his head as he looked down at you. "I'm.. sorry."

But you just laughed, much harder than the times you had before, till a dark flush built in your creased cheeks, stark against your bright eyes.

"You are funny. It is alright," you said, patting his bare chest. "I don't think I trust you will get home safe."

"Is this because I'm drunk?" He asked in a teasing tone, leaning in closer with his own cocky smile. For a moment he worried your hand on his chest would feel the thundering of his heartbeat.

"It is because you are stupid," you said, ducking out from his grip and pulling the necklace from Panya's neck, handing it to him.

You took his hand in yours, carefully leading him out of your home without wrecking any of it. The ascent over the crates was a little more clumsy than usual, but in the end you both landed safe back in the regular streets of Memphis, the temple of Osiris to your right and the palace to your left.

"Which way is your home?" You asked, looking up at him after you confirmed it to be a vacant street.

"Easy there," he said as he raised his hands defensively. "I'm – can't go home this.. like this. I'm gonna go down to the Nile, and... I'm going to wash up."

"They say not to go by yourself," you said, following him when he turned to the right. "Dangerous animals."

"More guidelines than rules, really," he said as he shambled along. "And I have you now, d–don't I?"

"If fish eat your ass, I am not saving you," you said with a certainty.

Ahkmen spluttered into a laugh.

"What?" You asked, your own smile growing as you watched him, confused.

"Don't – don't ever say that again. Don't talk about anything eating ass," he said through a massive grin.

Once the two of you reached the river, which didn't take long at all, Ahkmen stripped himself of his garments, setting aside his jewelry in a neat row on the banks. His mother's necklace he set on his clothes, making sure not to dirty it in any way.

"It is funny how you Egyptians do this," you said, perching on one of the boulders present.

"Do what?" He asked, looking over his bare shoulder. Your eyes darted up from staring at something lower.

"Wash in the river."

"Not everyone does," he said, kneeling in the water. "A lot have small pools in their homes. Mostly the rich, I guess. Everyone else just bathes here."

"Maybe I am just... not knowing much about being without many clothes," you attempted to translate, the words clearly spinning in your head. You looked to him to see if he understood you.

"That I can see," he said, bringing the water over his legs and chest, trailing up to his face. "You've got quite a style. Very.. colorful. It looks expensive."

"I make my own clothes," you said with a small, but proud smile.

"You're a seamster?"

"I am many things."

"So I've seen," he chuckled. "How do you know so many things?"

"I had to learn. I had to teach me, from what I could see my family doing," you said, your feet wagging back and forth from the boulder's height. "I get not many people who.. who buy. But I have many things. I think it helps."

"Impressive," he said softly as he returned to washing himself.

By dunking his whole head into the cool water, he hoped to return more of his senses to himself, and with it his more prolific words. He didn't need drunken sentences messing up your understanding of him further. Besides, it was hard enough on its' own to try and piece together your own sentences that were jargled and brambled words of what you'd picked up in Memphis.

"Are you ready to go?" You asked after having fidgeted for several minutes, now letting your head hang upside-down off the rock.

"I suppose so," he said, rising to his feet. "I think I can probably bathe more once I get home. And if not, the morning will come, and I can wash then."

As spiritual an experience as it was to bathe in the lifeblood of Egypt, Ahkmen couldn't deny he missed the lavender soaps and gentle oils massaged and soaked into the skin.

He stumbled his way back to shore, slipping easily on the slick mud beneath him, making up the fertile silt of the Nile. You laughed from your vantage point, knocking your head back with the loudest belt of a laugh he'd ever heard. It was made especially amusing by the fact that such noise could come from someone so small. By the third time he slipped, though, you spared a little pity and climbed down from your tower to help him.

"You are funny," you said with the brightest grin he'd seen, offering him your hand with a long reach in an attempt to keep your shoes clean. Unlike Ahk's, they were made of a sort of fabric.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his legs shaky from his laughter and yours. "This doesn't usually happen."

He reached forward, setting his hand into yours, and allowing you to direct him forward. To your unfortunate surprise––though, still, very amused surprise––his weight ended up pulling both of you down, slipping into the shallow reaches of the river.

"Oh Gods," he said as he resurfaced. "I am so sorry, I -"

Your clothes, and you, were then soaked in both water and mud that easily stained to the palms of your hands as you hauled your heavy clothes out of the river. Wide eyes looked to him, your mouth open in surprise. He cringed backwards, a horribly apologetic look on his face as he watched you stand, shaking your body to test your new weight.

Glancing around your legs, midsection, and arms, you found mud dug into your elbows, your knees, around your hips, and all across your shoulders.

You laughed. Relief flooded him upon the sight of your smile, covering your mouth with a dirty hand.

"Don't we look like a dream?" You giggled.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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sturchling · 4 years

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In the heroes day's episode. Did Lila's mom say somthing about a meeting with the embassy and talk about "How useless LB and CH were"?? Wonder how that meeting go??

Here you go! Hope you like it!

When Heroes Day happened, Lila hadn’t realized what her mother had just said. In Lila’s urgency in keeping her mother from talking to the school, she had caused herself a whole new problem. Mrs. Rossi was very concerned about all of these akumatizations. Especially since most of them were close to her daughter. Lila hadn’t even been able to go to school in several weeks. This Ladybug and Chat Noir seemed pretty incompetent as heroes. Luckily, Mrs. Rossi and her daughter haven’t been put in a position to meet them yet, and Mrs. Rossi hoped they never had to meet. Seeing her daughter quickly close the blinds to hide from whatever is outside made Mrs. Rossi feel even worse. She was determined to do something to help fix this for her daughter. She was going to make Paris a safe place for her. “All these akumatizations are really concerning. I’ll bring it up at our next embassy meeting.” With that, Mrs. Rossi kissed Lila on the head and left for work.

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Lila hadn’t registered what her mother had said at the time, but now she was panicked. If her mom looked into this, it would all be over for Lila. But Lila knew there wasn’t an embassy meeting planned for a while. This gave Lila some time to come up with a plan. About a week after Heroes Day, she saw her mom come home from work and Mrs. Rossi said, “Good news Lila. There will be an embassy meeting in four days, and I was given some time to speak at the meeting. I’ll be able to try and come up with a solution for all of these akumatizations that haven’t been resolved. I’ll start working on my presentation right now.” Now Lila was worried. She had to keep her mom from digging too deep. Lila put on her best smile and hoped this worked, “Don’t worry about it mom. I can do it for you. I have a lot of free time now since school is closed, and it would help teach me how to research. You just focus on what you want to say, I will get the facts for you!” Her mother looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, “If you are sure it won’t be any trouble, then I agree. I think it would be a good learning experience for you. But I will look over your work before the meeting. To make sure it is ready to show at the meeting.” “Yes mom! Leave it to me!”

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Lila spent the rest of the night working on this stupid presentation. Not like she could foist it off on a classmate. The whole class loves that stupid bug, and they think that Lila and Ladybug are best friends. If they knew that Lila had been badmouthing Ladybug, then it is all over for Lila. She filled the presentation with all the lies she had told her mother. The schools being closed, the akumas left to run free through the city, and the ineptitude of Ladybug and Chat Noir. She made sure to Photoshop some images to make them really moving, but more importantly convincing. Lila eventually sat back and admired her handiwork. She was sure this would fool everyone at that stupid embassy meeting. This would keep her lies safe, for a little while longer at least. Now she just had to hope the rest of the diplomats were as gullible as her mother.

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Lila showed the presentation to her mother the next day. Mrs. Rossi was very impressed by her daughter’s work. The presentation was very thorough and covered everything that Lila had told her about, while still being succinct and well organized. Lila had even thought ahead enough to include a works cited page. Mrs. Rossi praised her daughter and told her she was very happy that Lila had helped her with this project. Mrs. Rossi felt confident going into the meeting in three days, with a presentation this nice. For the next few days, Mrs. Rossi practiced what she was going to say, and Lila helped her with that as well. Lila seemed to have developed a love of research, she always volunteered to check the facts for Mrs. Rossi. Mrs. Rossi was very proud of her daughter. Lila’s school opened back up the day before the meeting, Lila saying that Mr. Damocles and the rest of the staff were finally deakumatized by Ladybug. Lila seemed excited to go back to school and see all her friends, and Mrs. Rossi was happy that Lila’s life would have a semblance of normalcy again. Soon it was the day of the meeting and Mrs. Rossi thought she was ready. She had no idea the storm she was about to walk into.

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Mrs. Rossi had just finished giving her presentation. She had thought people would jump into action and start suggesting ideas to help. Instead, she was met with stunned and angry silence. The tension in the room was palpable. Just as Mrs. Rossi thought that the silence would last forever, one of her coworkers spoke up, “With all due respect Mrs. Rossi, what on earth are you talking about?” Mrs. Rossi was shocked, what did he mean by that? “Was there something you needed me to clarify from the presentation? I understand it was a lot of information.” The entire room was looking at her like she had grown a second head. From the back of the room, a young woman, spoke up, “Mrs. Rossi, there are no akumas running around. Akuma attacks do happen, but they have never shut a school down. At most, they cause an early dismissal. Typically, Ladybug and Chat Noir have the akuma issue resolved within an hour or two. Why would you insult Paris’ heroes like this?” Mrs. Rossi was shocked. “What do you mean? My daughter’s school has been shut down for months and her principal has been akumatized for just about as long.” Now Mrs. Rossi was growing frustrated, as she watched some people in the room role their eyes. The first coworker that had said something looks at Mrs. Rossi with a very condescending look on his face, “Your daughter goes to Francoise Dupont right? That school has never been shut down for an extended time because of an akuma. And the principal, Mr. Damocles was deakumatized within a few hours of the akuma alert. Whoever told you otherwise is lying to you. Next time you want to present something, make sure to fact check it. Ladybug and Chat Noir may be incredibly young, but they have been doing an amazing job.” Ladybug and Chat Noir were young? From what Lila had told her, they sounded like lazy adults. Though Mrs. Rossi was beginning to realize that Lila was not a reliable source of information. Mrs. Rossi was incredibly embarrassed as she sat down. The meeting was quickly adjourned after Mrs. Rossi’s embarrassment. Mrs. Rossi went to her desk and began checking everything that Lila had told her. She quickly realized everything that Lila had told her was false. Every source Mrs. Rossi could find said the same thing; that Ladybug was an extremely capable hero and saved the day all the time. And her coworkers were right, these heroes were very young, they looked to be about Lila’s age. Lila had never even told her that she had been akumatized several times. There was no announcement from the school saying they had been closed either. Mrs. Rossi had never been more furious in her life! She couldn’t believe Lila would lie to her like this! And Lila had even lied about school, her daughter had been truant for who knows how long. The lying ends now. Mrs. Rossi took an early lunch and headed to the school, determined to get some answers.

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Lila was having a pretty good day. The class was so excited to see her ‘back from Achu’ and were hanging off her every word. It was now free time for the class and she was in the middle of telling the class how, ‘Prince Ali was so happy to hear about my new plans for our go green charities’ when out of no where the door to the class room slammed open. Lila paled as she saw her mother storm into the room. Mrs. Rossi looked FURIOUS and Lila knew this meant trouble. Lila braced herself as her mom got ready to yell, the class still to stunned to question who this strange woman was, “LILA ELIANA ROSSI! How dare you lie to me! I have never been more embarrassed in my life! I just made a fool out of myself in front of everyone at that meeting using your presentation. And now I find out that you lied about the school being closed!? You have been truant for this whole time!? Do you have any idea how much trouble I could be in for this!? You had better explain yourself right now young lady!” The class continued to stare in shock while Lila was panicking. This couldn’t be happening. Her mother was about to ruin everything for Lila. Those stupid people at the embassy just had to reveal Lila to her mother. Lila quickly tried to deescalate the situation and get her mother away from the rest of the class. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else?” Mrs. Rossi laughed coldly, “Yes we should, I think the principle should be involved in this conversation. Let’s go young lady.” Mrs. Bustier snaps out of her surprise, “Now wait just a moment ma’am, who are you?” Mrs. Rossi whipped around, “I am Lila’s mother. You are her teacher, right? Mrs. Bustier? You should come with us too; you should be a part of this conversation too.” Mrs. Bustier reluctantly agreed, telling the rest of the class to read chapter 10 from their history books while she was gone. The whole class was just staring at Lila as she descended the steps and left with her mother. The whole time they were walking to the principal’s office, Lila was trying to come up with a way to salvage everything. But Lila’s struggle was futile, she couldn’t think of a way out of this mess.

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

Lila was right, there wasn’t a way out of this mess. Her mother revealed to both Mr. Damocles and Mrs. Bustier that they had not been in Achu the last few months. She told the pair of educators what Lila had told her about the school being closed. It wasn’t long after that the rest of Lila’s lies had been exposed. All of the different disabilities and ailments she had claimed to have, including the lying disease. Mr. Damocles also revealed how Lila had caused another student to be unjustly expelled. Mrs. Rossi was furious at her daughter for causing so much trouble! After everything was revealed, it was decided that Lila would be expelled because of the truancy and the faking different disabilities. Especially once Mr. Damocles realized that since there is no lying disease, Lila was trying to get Marinette expelled on purpose. Before they left, Lila was made to apologize to the class for her lies, since they had been taking notes and doing homework for her because of her ‘injuries’. The class was furious at Lila for tricking them. Marinette was thankful that Lila had been uncovered before she was able to carry out her threat. She did have to fight Lila as an akuma later that day, but she was perfectly fine with that. Especially when she heard that Mrs. Rossi decided to send Lila to relatives back in Italy to make sure she wouldn’t be akumatized again. Things returned to normal in Mrs. Bustier’s class pretty quickly after Lila left. Marinette was just happy that the liar was out of her life for good, and she had Mrs. Rossi to thank for it.

#ml fic #ml fanfic #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml salt fanfic #ml class #lila rossi #lila salt #lila salt fic #Lila exposed #lila exposed fic #lila gets exposed #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous salt fanfic #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous salt

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