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#that he *is* smart but struggles to articulate or organize his thoughts
melonisopod · 13 days
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Hon we need to get you some Adderall.
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impmansloot · 1 year
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Basically all the inconsistencies in Solas' character can be summed up as 'there were a bunch of white people writing about a racial minority being a rebel willing to do anything to defend his people and they decided this was a bad thing'. Like everything fucked up about the Elves and Sera and Solas and their weird opinions can just be traced back to the fact that their writers had biases and decided to put them in the game. And sometimes they ramped it up to make a point.
tbh I don't think they frame the rebellion itself as a bad thing, considering they had to basically do damage control in Trespasser via codices and some banter like hey fen'harel was actually a good guy he freed the slaves the evanuris sucked ass—but considering current events, this has some weird implications. I mean, I like complex characters and like theories but unless you like diving into lore, speculating, and exploring characters' motivations, well... you won't see Solas as a morally gray multifaceted character with other potential motives, you'll just see him as an idk, elf supremacist which is Unfortunate. And yeah, his weird non-consistent opinions on some things really don't help that
Sera-wise... (not so coherent Sera rant incoming)
I'm actually torn between thinking that 1. Sera is an interesting character that represents real-life examples of how some people deal with oppression while being a part of the oppressed group and 2. They really did write her in a very awkward way which upon examination doesn't really make much sense.
Like listen, I like Sera and I think she's street-smart; she doesn't articulate her thoughts well, but she has a pretty nuanced understanding of what "little people" need, and ultimately how you can help the lower classes with the least amount of lower classes' blood spilled (which is apparent in her dialogues with Solas about organizations but can be dismissed as her stubbornness/ignorance at first glance). When it comes to elves though, Sera deliberately ignores the fact that they are like, actually oppressed. I get that she chose to prioritize "little people" as a whole, but generally If you can see the struggle of the lower class, then how do you not see actual issues with how elves are positioned in social hierarchy? Surely she must've seen more aside from her own experience/background, especially as an elf originally from an alienage that was terrorized by Vaughan and his people. I know that she struggles with her elven identity and I honestly find it sympathetic, but with the way the game frames it they just made her look dumb.
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After that gorgeous sequel rant, would you be willing to share your thoughts on reylo?
Ugh.
Once again, that is the most succinct, easiest, answer I can supply. But it's so short, and that just won't do.
I mentioned in a recent post that Dramione comes in a myriad of disguises. Every fandom usually has at least one Dramione ship, you can usually guess which characters the ship will consist of, and while you might not be able to articulate exactly what about it makes it so damn similar to Dramione you will recognize it on sight.
Usually, to me, a Dramione ship features a strong, independent, female lead who may be varying levels of sexually empowered, varying levels of intelligent (Hermione loves to tell us how smart she is but it's not the heart of the ship), is strong, courageous, and noble who depending on the story du jour might slide into depravity.  The real give away is her love interest, always a man, usually a young man of comparable age, who has the bad boy appeal that's not too bad boy where he often is redeemed to the good side for 'reasons' in the course of the story.
Reylo is such a Dramione pairing.
You don't believe me? Look at the authors who write it, I haven't done this too often myself, but I guarantee you that a not small majority of them will either write Draco/Hermione or will have it all over their favorites and bookmarks. It's the same damn pairing.
But worse.
Because Kylo-Ren and Rey aren't really characters.
"Whoa, hold up!", you say, "That's just slander and uncalled for!" Well, change my mind. Rey Palpatine and Kylo-Ren are a series of character tropes and archetypes thrown to us by Disney screaming "LOVE MY CHARACTERS".
Rey is our noble, very Luke like, hero who is a scrappy desert rat with overwhelming mystical powers only acknowledged when the movies feel like acknowledging them (guys, admit Rey kicked Kylo-Ren's ass every time they fought with 0 training, come on, it's not hard).
However, there is nothing underneath her surface. Her hero worship of the resistance feels dull and given to her because it's expected. Of course Rey likes the resistance! The resistance is great! Sign her up! Rey has been living in the desert at the edge of nowhere for presumably 15 years, I'm shocked she's even heard of the new republic let alone the resistance. Despite essentially starving and only having a home that's a broken down old fighter, Rey saves a random droid. We're not really given a compelling reason of why she would do this, that she has a deep respect for droids/is horrified by their use, really really really hates the random trader she sells things to, or really really really hates the empire (if she even realizes it's them behind the bounty). She does it just so that a) the plot keeps moving b) to show Rey is... noble... I guess?
Remember that even Luke (who I have some problems with as a character) started his journey with more backstory and personality than this. Luke loved the empire and desperately wanted to become a pilot. He was very put out that his aunt and uncle kept saying, "Uh, no, bad idea." Luke was ready to skip town and sign on up for flight academy, he just got distracted by pretty women, er, his sister.
So, Rey is never given a compelling reason to do any of the things she does in the series. Just vague feelings of hero worship. And, of course, the drama over her parents. Just... I feel like Disney took out a hat, put a bunch of pieces of paper with words on them, and drew out the one that said "orphan angst about parents" and said "See, now she's conflicted! What a character!"
So yeah, Rey is your cardboard generic hero who is so generic she's not even a person. She has no hopes, no dreams, no fears, just these vague things we're told as an audience she cares about but never shown in any legitimate manner. Rey likes the resistance and rando droids, Rey imprints on Han Solo as the father she never had, Rey has this thing about her parents, Rey is attracted to Kylo Ren.
And that last one, oh boy that last one. It sold me less on the attraction to Kylo Ren than... oh... I don't know... Palpatine's secret Sith planet of doom. I mean, we all saw it coming, The Last Jedi it was very clear where that was going and then Abrams went for it even harder. But what we had was a series of skype conversations where Rey went from "Gr, you killed my pseudo father!" and Kylo-Ren responding, "Yeah, well he was my real father AND HE WAS SO MEAN" to "Oh Ben, I will fly to you through space and we shall save the galaxy together!"
I am given no reason to believe Rey's change of heart. Han Solo's death just suddenly... doesn't really mean much to her anymore (the man was murdered by his son in cold blood so that his son could feel better about himself). She believes Ben Solo is good now because Luke is a dick (never mind that, no matter what a dick Luke is, Ben Solo still murdered dozens of children and then went on to gleefully massacre his way through the galaxy). We're told there's a Force Dyad, which is um... not this thing the writer's made up because they were too lazy to convince me that Kylo-Ren and Rey would end up together in any organic way.
So, yeah, why does Rey like Kylo-Ren? Because the Force told her too? Because it was somehow all Snoke's fault in a way that's never properly described? (Indeed despite us spending quite a bit of time on Kylo-Ren's decision to remain Kylo-Ren being a very internalized thing) Because we saw him shirtless in yoga pants this one time?
It's bad when that last is actually the most legitimate reason I can think of out of the whole lot.
Now let's go to Kylo-Ren. If Rey is boring and nonsensical then Kylo-Ren is a dumpster fire and non-sensical. The guy reminds me a lot of Commodus from the film "Gladiator", the man is cowardly, vile, and murders his father in despair that his father never will be capable of loving him/passes him over for the throne. Kylo-Ren's murder of Han Solo is extremely similar to the murder of Marcus Aurelius in "Gladiator". Han Solo is a flawed father, trying to make his peace with his son, who approaches him unarmed and Kylo-Ren decides to murder him in order to solidify his place in the dark side.
Only, the films never acknowledge that every action Kylo-Ren takes is horrifying.
We're told "oh, Kylo-Ren exists because evil Snoke corrupted him" but also shown repeatedly that Kylo-Ren chooses the darkest path again and again and again. He "struggles with the light" but I don't see it. His opening scene, he has massacred a village and is torturing a man for information (this is presumably a daily routine for him). In the same film he later tortures Rey for information. He serves on a Death Star which wipes out billions in an instant. He murders his father to feel good about himself. He dresses as a man who was reviled and feared throughout the galaxy, a man who murdered countless children, and a man who dressed the way he did because he was barely hanging onto life, because Kylo-Ren thinks it makes him look like a badass. Think about it, this is like if a fully abled Kylo-Ren is wheeling around in a wheel chair, perfectly capable of walking, because he thinks that Professor X is so cool. Now, replace Professor X with Hitler, this is what the movies gave us.
Yet, the films seem to take it for granted that Kylo-Ren is a redeemable character. He's just lost and misguided, he's really struggling with the light and dark side! They don't just tell us this over and over again (which they do) but also just assume we know it.
And base the entire Reylo pairing off of it. Reylo believed Kylo-Ren could be redeemed, they battle Snoke together, then Kylo-Ren stabs her in the back and continues the assault on the Resistance and asks her to be his Dark Queen (TM). Reylo is shocked and appalled, I'm just wondering what movie she thought she was watching, because that was coming a mile away.
Later, when Kylo-Ren is redeemed, we're never given a reason why it happens. Leia just gives him a nagging, one word, phone call and then Han Solo shows up to go, "Ben, are you going to do the right thing?" and Ben goes, "Mumble, grumble, fine" because there's only an hour left in the last film.
Kylo-Ren, like Rey, is the writers' desperate attempt to create a compelling anti-hero with all the anti-hero sauce we love. They just won't admit they made an overgrown genocidal toddler.
Wow, this turned into why I hate both Rey and Kylo Ren, but, uh, back to the ship. Basically, the films give me 0 reason to ever believe it, and even if I wanted to, even if I said "Alright brain, let's make these characters real people for once", I still wouldn't like it. Because the ship itself is just as flat as the characters. It's spicy but not too spicy bad boy gets together with strong female lead.
I know a lot of people enjoy this, and I won't say it's any less legitimate than any of the weirdness I ship, but I'm not one of them. And the whole thing just makes me go "ugh".
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tomoonine · 4 years
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in every way.
[nakamoto yuta] — there are four ways to express your love in the japanese language. and thanks to you, yuta was able to learn how to say “i love you” in every way his mother tongue would let him. 
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Pairing: yuta / reader (gender neutral) Genre: non-idol au, strangers to lovers au, friends to lovers au, sociology major!yuta, fluff, and a tinge of angst Warnings: none Word Count: 6.3k words
☽. yuta has a special place in my heart, and i’ve been meaning to write something like this for him. i studied nihongo and japanese culture for several years, though for good measure i used a japanese forum for reference.
happy reading! and if you liked this, please leave feedback and check out my other works!
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「大好き」— daisuki; a daily word to confess love that is commonly used among friends and family. it is casual in nature, and can also be used to refer to things that people like, are interested in, or enjoy.
Yuta first met you during his second year in college in one of his classes, a subject you both shared despite being in different courses. You were taking this subject as an elective, although for Yuta, this was one of his major subjects. Contemporary Social Issues, a course under the Sociology department, where he majored in.
In his honest opinion, he never really imagined being drawn to you in any way. He was in university to study for his bachelor’s degree after all, along with making sure his athletic scholarship will be maximized efficiently. The only thing about you that he was intrigued by was the reason you took this exact subject, considering that you were the only person from your major who was taking it.
Everyone had their eyes on you when you introduced yourself, and they all marvelled at your rationale for taking the class. He could even recall your response word per word, just because it was so honest and sincere.
I enrolled in this class because it was something I was interested in. And I know that whatever I will learn here will help me understand what I need to do to help people in our community. I want to help people using my respective field, and I can only do that when I know what issues need to be solved in society.
He and his coursemates applauded at your response, and it really deserved the appraisal. You were determined to maximize your time in the subject, unlike others they’ve seen who have spent their time on their phone during lectures. You diligently took notes, and you listened well. Not only that, but you also made sure to contribute to the discussion by joining in the discourse. Your input was valued since it was from a perspective of someone in your field, and you were very helpful when it came to group works.
That was all Yuta could ever say whenever he had to formulate some sort of opinion about you. You were an acquaintance, a classmate from his sociology subject who took the subject seriously. You were articulate when it came to recitation, but you kept to yourself since you didn’t know anyone else in class.
Despite that, you were pretty much doing alright on your own, and during mini-group discussions you were ready to talk to him and his other friends. So he never felt the need to talk to you, nor to initiate a conversation with you outside of academic work. Not until this day, that is. On this particular school day, he was excused from his previous class because of an obligation he must meet with the football team. And since it ended relatively early, he figured that he should cool down in the classroom after taking a shower. Surely by this time, the air-conditioning would be turned on even if there isn’t a class before his.
When he arrives in front of the door to the room, Yuta’s hair is damp and he has changed out of his football uniform. The watch strapped on his left wrist reads 9:34 am; approximately 30 minutes before your shared class. He can feel the cold air seeping through the gaps of the door, and he beams at the thought of being able to sit down in silence. As he knocks on the door as courtesy, Yuta opens the door only to be taken aback at the sight of you alone at your desk.
Considering your dry hair and your neatly organized notebook, Yuta could only assume that you’ve been sitting there for quite a long time. Your gaze is set towards the windows, watching the birds perch on top of the trees outside the building. It appears that you haven’t noticed Yuta’s presence either, since your back is still turned while humming a tune to yourself. Initially, he didn’t want to bother you because you look so immersed and transfixed towards what’s outside. Though he can no longer keep to himself when he realizes how oddly familiar the song you’re humming is.
When he connects the dots, Yuta couldn’t control his excitement and speaks before he could process his own thoughts. “Is that One OK Rock?” He asks you, with a radiant smile across his face.
You jolt up in shock upon hearing Yuta’s voice by the door, turning your head towards his direction with embarrassment written all over your face. When you don’t immediately reply, Yuta simply walks toward you with an eager grin. “The song you were humming just now, it was Mr. Gendai Speaker right? One OK Rock, Zankyo Reference album, the chorus that starts with nobody can find me here?”
���Uh…” You gulp, eyes never leaving Yuta’s approaching figure, even as he plops down on the seat beside you. “Yes, actually.” There’s a sheepish smile that settles on your face when you admit it to him. “I’ve just started listening to their older songs. The ones that aren’t from their most recent albums, I mean. I really like them.”
“Me too!” Yuta replies, without a faltering smile. “I like One OK Rock. No, well-- I actually love them.” There’s a laugh that leaves his lips, and you can’t help but laugh along. Your body shifts from its original position to one that’s completely facing Yuta. “I’m surprised though,” Yuta says. “their songs from Eye of the Storm have a different vibe from those like Mr. Gendai Speaker.”
“That’s true.” You agree. “But more than the sound, I really admire them for their lyrics and message. Mr. Gendai Speaker talks about government incompetence, and Stand Out Fit In is very…” You struggle to find the right words, but Yuta’s gaze on you doesn’t falter. He watches you with genuine interest, eager to learn more. Your fingers snap and you point at him with a triumphant smile. “Empowering! Self-empowering, actually. Stuff along the lines of breaking away from society’s norms and being who you are.”
Once he’s certain that you’re finished speaking, he lets out a hum for acknowledgement. “You’d make a good socio major, (Y/N).” Yuta concludes, and you thank him timidly. “But you know what? I think we’d make good friends.” He adds as he brings his hand up in front of you. “Anyone who appreciates One OK Rock in the same way you do is a friend of mine.”
Your eyes dart toward his hand, and back at his face. After much thought, you smile at him and take his hand for a firm shake. “Anyone who can sing OOR with a wonderful voice like yours is a friend of mine too.”
Since that day, Yuta could finally say more about you. You were (Y/N), a classmate from his Contemporary Social Issues class every Tuesday and Friday at 10:00 am to 11:30 am. Despite your  major, you took the class because you genuinely wanted to know how to help people using your profession. But more than that, you were (Y/N), his new friend who liked One OK Rock as much as he did.
「好きだよ」— suki dayo; commonly used for confessions since it holds a special meaning in the context of love.
“I don’t understand you, Yuta.”
Yuta stares at you blankly and scoffs. “Even after one semester of being classmates and seatmates,  you still tell me that?” He fiddles with the hem of his jersey as he struggles to find more words to say. Given the awkward atmosphere in the university’s health center, he has nothing else to express aside from the guilt that builds up when he realizes that he must be bothering you right now. Frankly, the horrifying gash on his shin and the prickling pain from his twisted ankle isn’t even a nuisance to him. It’s not anything he’s new to, but what he can’t seem to handle is the worried expression you’re wearing while you’re seated across him.
“One semester isn’t enough to get to know someone.” You reply, as you watch a nurse tend to his wounds. You wince when Yuta flinches at the contact of the disinfectant to his gash. “But back to what I was saying, there’s a lot that I don’t understand about you.”
The nurse leaves and Yuta is left gaping at you with a curious look. You look away and sigh, contemplating for a while. “For one…” You take a glance at him, licking your lips as you struggle to explain. “I don’t even know why I’m here. Sicheng called me to watch over you, I asked if your roommate Taeil was available but he wasn’t. I even asked if Mark or Yuto could make it, yet he insisted I’d go here since you asked for me. “
Despite being apprehensive and hesitant, you continue on. “And you know… I’d expect her to be here instead.”
A bitter smile graces Yuta’s face. “Things didn’t work out with Soojin. We stopped dating weeks ago, we didn’t have the same interests and she said I was boring.”
You look at him blankly, unblinking even with his piercing eyes. “Okay, scratch my earlier statement. I don’t understand Soojin.” Yuta smiles as he braces himself for your speech. “You’ve been dating for a month, and she was the one who expressed interest over you. Why is she the one suddenly saying you’re boring?” You look at him incredulously, and Yuta can only offer a shrug in response.
“You’re on an athletic scholarship, you can sing, you can dance, AND you’re smart as hell.” You enumerate on your fingers, and as you continue to ponder, your expression suddenly freezes and you forcefully shove your four fingers toward his direction. “I haven’t even included the fact that you’re a feminist and human rights advocate! That’s five impressive and not boring things about you, and I haven’t even included the fact that you’re a weeb--”
“I’m Japanese, (Y/N).”
“Can’t help it, you have good anime recommendations.” You snicker. “Even so, you have a diverse cultural background. And if that isn’t interesting for Soojin, then she’s the boring one.” You cross your arms with a huff. “Plus, who else can score a goal despite having a wound on the shin and a twisted ankle…”
Yuta perks up at your off-handed remark. “How did you know about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“The point I scored. Didn’t you have class during our game?” Yuta asks you. “Or maybe Sicheng told you about the game before he left you with me?”
“Nah.” You tell him as you begin searching for your phone. Once you’ve retrieved it, you quickly unlock it and tap on the screen a few times. Yuta watches you fumble around with your device, and tilts his head when you turn your phone screen towards him. “I follow the football team’s twitter, they were live-tweeting the match. I scrolled through it while there was a presentation going on.” You lock your phone and put it away. You beam at him. “I heard you guys won and I was about to text you congratulations, but Sicheng called me telling me that you were here in the infirmary. Good thing my class ended early, so I was able to go here as quickly as I could.”
Yuta is about to respond, but the nurse arrives back in the room. Both of you remain silent as they resume working on Yuta’s injuries. As the nurse dresses his wounds and checks on his ankle, you continue to look after Yuta, ensuring that you pay attention to any reaction that could signify discomfort for the boy. Yuta, meanwhile, still can’t wrap his head around your explanation.
He can’t understand why you’d go out of your way to even keep yourself updated with the game. You were (Y/N), his friend from last semester who always focused in class, regardless of the activity being conducted. And looking back at your defense earlier, any friend would hype up another with encouraging words. Those types of words would flatter the individual and put them on a high pedestal. Though the way you pointed out every good thing about Yuta impacted him in a way that can’t be explained just by mere obligation.
Yuta can’t help but wonder if you truly saw a much better version of himself that even he himself couldn’t notice. You describe him with such tender words and he’s inclined to believe that you saw past his imperfections and appreciated him for all he is, more than Soojin ever did. More than she ever could. Regardless, you’re his friend. Is that not what you’re supposed to do?
He couldn’t understand you. Even after being close friends for one semester, he somehow can’t understand you.
“These injuries don’t look as severe as your previous ones.” The nurse suddenly speaks to Yuta, and it effectively takes his mind off of you. “Although I would still recommend that you rest for at least two weeks, just to prevent it from recurring. If the pain persists, don’t hesitate to visit the infirmary again.”
Yuta frowns. “Two weeks?”
“Yes, at least.” They reply with a straight face. “I know you’re stubborn, Mr. Nakamoto. So I’ve already advised your coach about it, so you have no excuse to give to him.”
You watch in amusement as Yuta continues to complain, wondering if Sicheng left him with you so he can avoid watching Yuta throw a tantrum. The nurse silences him by placing several tablets of painkillers in front of him. “As usual, take them only if the pain is unbearable. And I hope I don’t see you back in here any time soon with a new injury, we don’t want your significant other over there worrying about you again--”
The nurse is pointing at your direction as they talk to Yuta. Panic surges in his system as he tries to correct them. “We’re not--”
“Before you leave, please sign out in the logbook. Come back in a few weeks for another check up.” After a simple wish to recover well, the nurse takes their leave once more and Yuta looks at you awkwardly. Unbothered, you stand up and approach the male. “Do you need help walking, Yuta?”
With pursed lips, he tries to stand up on his own, albeit with difficulty brought about by the pain. You immediately rush to his side to support him, arms wrapped around him in aid. “If it’s alright with you, I may need help on the way to my dorm…” You nod in response, offering to take some of his other things in your hold, but Yuta denies your offer. He gently takes your hands off his body to trudge towards the front desk to sign as requested. Once he’s ready to leave, with you by his side, you help him out of the infirmary and walk back to Yuta’s dorm.
The trip is silent. Yuta can’t bring himself to say anything, especially since he’s sure that you heard the nurse’s remark. The last thing he’d ever want is to make you uncomfortable, and he’s worried that you might be a bit wary of being around him because of it. Yuta turns his head to look at you, whose eyes were trained forward.
Despite your position, you can feel Yuta’s eyes on you. Without much thought, you let yourself speak. “Don’t worry about anything, Yuta.”
“I’m not worried about anything.”
“Yes you are. I can practically feel you brooding, anyone could tell from a kilometer away.” You loosen your arm around his waist to give him a flick on his back. You ignore Yuta’s tiny “ow”, and continue without waiting for a reply. “I know you’re probably hung up on a broken relationship, and it definitely sucks that this injury had to happen. But you know, things will only be better if you let time pass.”
Yuta feels your hand patting the area you flicked earlier, and you finally turn your head to look at him. “Your feelings right now are valid. But there are things that are out of your control, and trying to fix those will stress you even more. Like I said, try not to worry too much and focus on healing. Everything will arrive in its own time, and the rest of the world will be waiting for you to recover.”
Unable to give a coherent reply, Yuta mumbles a word of gratitude to you and lets your words sink in. You take it as a signal to leave him in his own headspace, and you do your best to keep the atmosphere calm.
Yuta’s train of thought halts when he hears you humming again. It reminds him of the first time he’s initiated a friendly conversation with you, except this time you’re humming a song of love. He’s only heard All Mine by One OK Rock in passing, and normally he’d just skip it. Unlike most of the band’s music, this song is much slower. Yuta isn’t exactly fond of the soulful tone of the cello, and he can’t seem to relate to the words that Taka sings in the track. So simply put, the song isn’t to his taste. However, hearing you hum along to the music suddenly convinces Yuta that the song is worth listening to, especially with you recreating the melody for him.
As if he was listening to it by himself, Yuta follows you by citing the lyrics in his head. He can tell that you’re already at the pre-chorus, and he listens to you attentively. The words easily manifest in his mind, as smooth as the tune that reverberates from the back of your throat. It blends perfectly with rustling leaves; it’s a harmonious duet with the birds that chirp, accompanied by the distant chatter from the classrooms in the next building. It’s picturesque, it’s enough to let anyone unwind and forget their worries. Yuta is about to let himself relish in the feeling of contentment, but he’s shocked when he hears you singing the chorus instead.
It’s the first time he’s heard you sing, considering that it’s usually him singing for the both of you. Your voice is a little shaky since you’re singing just slightly above a whisper, but with the way you’re stuck together, he can hear it well.
Just wanna be with you, only you, always you…  You're so beautiful to me it's true, amazed by you, I think I'm falling...
Although you can’t hold a note as long as Taka could, Yuta finds your singing very endearing. If he weren’t in such a vulnerable state, he would be teasing you right now. All in light fun, he assures, considering that this is the first time you’ve ever felt comfortable singing around him. Yuta might even admit that your voice is beautiful, and that it’s enough to drive his worries away. In fact, just this tranquil moment with you has helped him feel better. Yuta’s mind is clearer, though he still can’t help but look back at your previous conversations. The flowery lyrics of the band’s song can’t seem to compare to those kind words of yours. You think so highly of him, and he can’t forget the way you looked at him when you told him that.
Eyes shining with conviction, it took him back to the times you would take your stand during class discourse in the previous semester. And even today, he couldn’t help but be amazed by you. All of a sudden, he wished that he could see you shine like that more often. Everything only seemed right when you were here to support him, and Yuta knew that things would definitely be better if he could be the one you would lean onto.
When he realizes where his thoughts are leading to, he’s suddenly hyper-aware of your proximity to him. The hands that support his arm and waist are bringing warmth at the points of contact, and he can no longer discern if this heavy feeling is from his beating heart or his labored breathing. Yuta feels the warmth blossoming across his cheeks, and he desperately finds a way to ensure you won’t see him vulnerable like this. More so when you’re practically attached to him right now.
He thinks he’s falling, and suddenly he understands that maybe the world was waiting for him to realize that it was you all along. All this time, he was just waiting to understand that he just wanted to be with you. Not just as a friend, but as something potentially more than that. Yuta honestly isn’t sure yet, but at this point, he can only hope that you were waiting for him too.
「愛してる」— aishiteru; you are likely to see this phrase used in various media platforms, but not everyone uses this to express love in japanese society. It’s not used for first-time confession either since it holds deeper affection compared to the previous examples.
Only today did Yuta learn that falling in love was different than being in love.
After being in a relationship with you for almost four years, it amazes him that he only realized that now. Yuta feels like it was just yesterday when he finally made his confession to you, and everything that followed happened so fast. Transitioning from being friends to lovers proved to be difficult, but Yuta couldn’t be any happier without you.
To him, it felt like being on a roller coaster ride. He was nervous at first; anything could go wrong at that point and he was afraid of making a mistake. Though as time passed, just as the roller coaster would slowly elevate to the peak, he felt the anxiety dissipate into a newfound feeling of exhilaration. When everything began to fall into place, every day became an adventure to Yuta and the adrenaline rush kept on following him wherever he went.
Just seeing a glimpse of you got his heart racing, and every late night date around the city was full of excitement. Without a care in the world, you ran around the empty streets and he would carry you up high in the middle of the solemn streets. Sneaking out to visit the nearest convenience store and talking all night; those were the exciting days during the earliest parts of your relationship.
However, all the excitement will eventually find its end. Similar to a roller coaster finally slowing down on the track, your relationship with Yuta started to transition to something calmer. The fast cadence of his heart mellowed down, and no longer can he hear his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. Instead of the late-night getaways, Yuta would start spending his time cuddling with you under the covers. Tranquil nights became the norm for the two of you, and he relished in the feeling of his heart beating in his chest while he held you tight. Coffee shop dates conducted in the silence of each others’ presence gave him a different type of indescribable joy, and he couldn’t even begin to explain how much he enjoyed domestic dates with you.
His relationship with you felt like a getaway to an unknown destination, yet at the same time it was like a calm, warm evening huddled together in each others’ presence. Falling in love felt like being trapped in a bustling metropolis, but being in love felt like being at home. However, he’s disappointed in himself that he only realized this now. He’s beginning to regret his decisions, especially when he’s outside the airport about to fly back to Japan and leave you here in South Korea.
“Hey, what did I tell you about worrying?” You frown when you notice how furrowed his eyebrows were. From your position beside him, you force him to stop moving by blocking his path ahead. Yuta’s eyes shift from the concrete to your unwavering gaze. “You can tell me anything, you know.”
Yuta doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to abandon his grip on his luggage to step forward and intertwine his hands with yours. He does his best to show you a comforting smile in an attempt to ease you from your worries. However, he knows that you can read him like an open book, so he humors you with the truth.
“I’m not so sure anymore about going back…”
“Why not?”
Yuta bites his lower lip in contemplation, and you can feel his thumb finding its way on top of your hand out of habit. “I’m a bit scared, to be honest.” He laughs, but you urge him to continue. “In hindsight, I could always take my higher studies here in South Korea. Communication and Gender studies as a graduate degree is available here too.”
At his remark, your confusion becomes evident to him. “Why not?” You ask Yuta. “Osaka University is a great school for your graduate studies AND it’s nearest to your hometown, is it not? I remember you told me how you wanted to study gender issues there, why would you do that here?”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to be apart from you.”
You take your time internalizing his words, and the atmosphere feels tense. You look pensive, even as you swing Yuta’s arms around to ease his nerves. With all the people around walking past you two, Yuta is beginning to feel uneasy. It feels like all eyes are on him, it’s a scene straight off from a movie and it’s so cliche to be honest. It’s cliche for him to suddenly spout this nonsense, especially when he’s by the gate, with about two hours or so before he flies from Incheon to Itami.
You clear your throat. “So… You’re not ready for a long-distance relationship? Are you scared of long distance?” He knows there isn’t any malice in your tone, and that you’re genuinely asking him out of curiosity. Yuta sighs. “Not exactly…”
“No, I’d understand if you think that way. Is it okay if you let me finish?” Yuta nods, and you try your best to smile at him. “More than being your lover, I’m your best friend Yuta. I want what’s best for you.” You look at him for confirmation, and he gives you a single nod. “And I’m sure you know that no matter what happens, I really, really want you to accomplish your graduate studies in Japan. Not only because that’s what I think is best for you, but because this is your dream. I don’t want to be the one to stop you from reaching it, so if…”
A shaky sigh escapes your lips, and you shut your eyes briefly. Before you speak up, your lips shut tight and you look at Yuta once more. “If it means having to let our relationship rest for a moment, it’s definitely alright with me. No matter what happens, I’ll always be supporting you right?”
At your inquiry, Yuta realizes that he’s been holding his breath all this time. His eyes drop down to look at the way his hands fit in yours, and he’s holding back his tears. Ever so gently, his hands untangle from yours so he can take one hand in his grasp. Yuta slowly brings your right hand close to his face, and he places a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Will-- Are you…” He hesitates for a moment, but he gathers his courage to look at you. “Are you breaking up with me?”
There’s a somber expression across your features as you watch him express his affection. “It’s your call, Yuta. Like I said, I want what is best for you. And that’s not my decision to make.”
Why did you have to make it harder for me… Yuta licks his lips as he tries to gather himself. His hands never leave yours, and his thumb continues to graze over the skin that his lips softly touched. The expanse of skin still feels warm from his kiss, and it brings him a bit of joy in this trying time. With his eyes still on the concrete, he speaks up after being silent for minutes.
“Will it be selfish of me to say that I’m not ready to let you go, (Y/N)? I don’t want to break up with you.” He raises his head up to look at you. “And… Even if I know I’ll be home in Japan, I think I’ll still be homesick thinking about you.” There’s a bitter aftertaste that lingers at the tip of his tongue as he whispers those words to you. It’s a bitter feeling that somehow compliments how cheesy his words truly were. It’s enough to elicit a laugh from you, and he smiles when he sees you closing the gap between the both of you.
You encase him in your arms for a hug, and you bury your head close to him. “Yuta…” You quietly whisper. “I’m always here for you, and I’ll continue to be even if we’re far apart from each other. I’m always a call away, okay? I love you so much.”
Yuta can no longer hold himself together, and he lets himself unravel in your hold. His arms snake around your waist and he buries his head at the crook of your neck, not before he presses one more kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll miss you, (Y/N). I love you. I really, really love you.”
“Me too, Yuta.” Your hands lovingly pat his back when you feel his breathing becoming uneven. “Two years will be long, but I’ll be waiting for you.”
It’s the last time he’ll ever feel at home in your embrace, Yuta realizes. This will be the last time in a few years that he’ll hold you tight like this. He relishes in the feeling of your warm embrace, and he lets a few tears drop down along his cheek as his eyes shut close. It’s a bittersweet farewell, one that’s quite terribly cliche. Yet just like any other cliche, he’ll be waiting for the day he could come back home to you once again.
「恋してる」— koishiteru; originating from the verb that refers to “want” and “longing”, this could be used to express a yearning heart. it is perhaps the strongest form of expression, and is best used for someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.
“Stop closing your eyes, Nakamoto Yuta.” You flick his arm. “Everyone is going to think you’re sleeping, it won’t look good in the pictures.”
Yuta smirks at your remark, and opens his eyes to look at you. “I can do whatever I want, Nakamoto (Y/N).” He grins at you. “I’m free to look back at our relationship and daydream about what will happen tonight--” He snickers when he feels your elbow jab at his side, especially when you scold him for being indecent and greasy.
“Oh my god, shut up Yuta.” You groan, burying your face into the bouquet of flowers in your hands. “You’re so disgusting, our families are right in front of us.”
“So are our friends.” He pouts. “You know that Ten is worse than me.”
“But I’m sure that he knows public decency more than you do.” You glare at each other, but Yuta cracks first and chuckles. He brings his hand up to poke at your nose, and you laugh at the endearing gesture. Both of you remain in your own world, basking in each others’ presence with gleeful expressions. There’s a mischievous glint in your eyes as you raise your own finger to poke at his nose, but with Yuta’s rapid movements you miscalculate your trajectory and end up bringing your finger up his nose.
And a flash of a camera stuns the both of you. You watch the wedding photographer walk away with a horrified expression, while Yuta’s eyes were wide in confusion.
“Hey Yuta, (Y/N)!” Sicheng calls you two with the microphone in his hand, and you’re quick to jerk your hand away from his nostril. “I was hoping you guys were going to listen to my best man’s speech, but knowing Yuta I think he’s too busy thinking about your honeymoon!”
“Well, you aren’t wrong...” Yuta trails off, and makes eye contact with you. He delivers a wink toward you, and you retaliate with a smack to his chest with your bouquet. You look absolutely scandalized and flustered, but his remark elicits a laugh from everyone in the reception hall. It’s only then that you realize that there’s something odd on the tip of your finger, and you desperately try to wipe off any remnant of Yuta’s snot on his sleeve.
“I can’t believe it, we’re going to have a copy of my finger up your nose in our wedding album…” You mumble to yourself. “Someone probably recorded what you said too! We’re so embarrassing, our children are going to look back at our pictures and think we’re weird--”
“Children?”
“Ah.” You cover your mouth in shock. Unable to handle reciprocating his gaze, your eyes focus on the table decorations instead. “Well, if you want kids that is. Or a child.”
Yuta lets a gentle smile unravel. “You want a family with me?” You feel his hand enveloping yours. Yuta has your hand in a firm grip, but his thumb grazes the top of your hand gently and lovingly. From the table top, your focus shifts toward Yuta’s hand on top of yours. Mirroring his own smile, you beam at him and put your bouquet aside to cage his hand in between yours. This time, you’re the one gently caressing his hand and you shine a radiant smile towards him. “Only if you want to. We could have a dog, a cat, a turtle-- honestly, any is fine. As long as you’re still around, that’s the best I can ever want and need.”
Yuta simply grins at you, and he shifts his attention back to his best man. You let go of his hand to give Sicheng your undivided attention, settling with fumbling around with your bouquet from time to time.
Looking at everyone in the venue, especially to his best man, Yuta can’t help but look back to how his journey came to be. From mere acquaintances, to close friends, and then to lovers. From having shared interests, to a moment of realization, to a confession, and a lifetime of expressed affection. Your relationship was rocky from that point onward, and he can vividly recall his struggles as he balanced his graduate studies and his relationship with you. It was the most difficult point of his life, but nothing could compare to the feeling of being with you once again. Especially now that you’re practically bound together by marriage.
The thought of being with you for the rest of his life brings a tender feeling in his heart, and he can’t resist smiling to himself. He loves you. He loves you so much that words can no longer explain it. Yuta may have a lot of languages he’s capable of speaking in, but none of them could truly encompass all the fondness and sentiment he has towards you.
In fact, there are four ways to express your love in the Japanese language, and these would vary depending on usage and to whom you’re addressing. Back then, Yuta didn’t understand why it was so necessary to have so many variants of it. However, meeting you has convinced him that expressing his love meant having to deal with the intricacies of his mother tongue. He's more than thankful that you gave him these opportunities to use every form of profession on you, even if mere words could never truly capture his love for you.
Yuta can’t hide his joy, even as Sicheng ends his speech smoothly. Everyone in the reception hall applauds him, including the both of you. He’s cheering for his best friend enthusiastically and coupled with the applause, what would seem to be like bell chimes begin to ring in his ears. And upon scanning the crowd, Yuta laughs at the sight of Johnny tapping the wine bottle with the bread knife along with his other close friends with their wine glasses. Everyone else begins to follow suit, starting with your own close friends and then to your families. Everyone is hollering for a kiss, and all he can do is grin cheekily at the people in front of him.
Yuta can hear you click your tongue, and he whips his head back to laugh at the situation. There’s yet another rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, but his heart feels as calm as the water streaming on a riverbed. Yuta, with his head hanging off of the chair, turns to look at you. He snickers when he sees you frowning at the crowd, and he moves closer to you. Yuta fixes his posture and as he turns to face you, his vacant hand moving to grasp to your chin. Even with half-lidded eyes staring right at your lips, he asks you tenderly.
“... May I?”
It’s a hushed whisper, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear the two of you. The world seems to have stopped revolving as you briefly locked your eyes with his. You can’t help but glance at his own lips, and as your eyelids drop down to close your eyes, you whisper back to him softly. “You may.”
Yuta can hear the cheers of his family and peers as he slowly closes the gap between the two of you. Just as he shuts his eyes, he mumbles a gentle profession of his love before he brings your lips together. Joined with a promise to be with you forever and to love you through every possible way, he molds his lips to the shape of yours, sharing blissful smiles as he gradually applies pressure.
“I love you, (Y/N).”
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meta-squash · 4 years
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Do you think that Terry used to beat up Mickey when he was younger?? Cause I notice every time someone wakes him up, he enters in a some sort of "defense mood" (I don't really know how to call it),and that makes me think and imagine that sometimes Terry came home drunk at night and started to beat him up for no reason at all...I don't know I'd just like to know what are your thoughts about that (Btw I really like reading your analysis/opinions, they're really interesting)
I absolutely do. I absolutely think Terry was abusive towards his children, and that Mickey’s older/oldest brothers probably joined in to some extent. That defensive wake up is one of the big reasons I think that way. Not to mention the fact that we know Terry is sexually abusive and raped Mandy. And we also see how dirty and roughed up Mickey is for the first two or three seasons. I absolutely think Terry was physically abusive towards Mickey.
I’ve always had the thought that Terry was an abusive man, but especially so towards people he saw as disobeying him in some way. Mickey’s the smart one out of his siblings, but that also means he’s the one that will talk back or question authority on a totally different level from his brothers. I think that probably got him a lot of shit when he was a kid until he learned it was safer to keep his mouth shut. We know almost nothing about Mickey’s mother except that she’s dead and that she ran out on the family, but I imagine she was a major victim of Terry’s abuse as well.
Mickey spends so much time during the first few seasons filled with so much fear and anxiety, and that anxiety comes out as aggression. He terrorizes the neighborhood, but I think a big part of the reason for that isn’t because he’s a horrible person like his dad, but because he’s terrified that if he doesn’t establish some sort of reputation, more people will hurt or take advantage of him when they learn how scared he is all the time. Some of that anxiety I think comes from just generally being smaller than a lot of people as well as the youngest boy in the family, but I think it’s also a fear that comes from being afraid that people will see him as weak, that his father will see him as weak and will punish him for it. I don’t think Terry would allow for any other emotions besides neutrality or anger; anything else is weakness or disobedience.
Mickey chills out considerably whenever Terry is gone. His whole personality kind of softens, both when Terry is back in prison and when Mickey’s living with the Gallaghers.
I think Mickey’s life wasn’t just hard because his family is dirt poor and can barely scrape things together to pay all the bills at once. He’s also living in a situation where one wrong word or move means physical retaliation. He’s also living in a situation where, unlike the Gallaghers, his siblings aren’t going to save any extra food for him, or make sure he’s doing okay, or whatever. He doesn’t eat the way he does just because he’s rude; he does it because he grew up knowing that if he didn’t shove the food in front of him into his mouth asap, someone else would eat it first and he wouldn’t know where or when his next full meal would come.
I think that Terry was physically abusive to all Mickey’s siblings, but the rest of them managed to either turn into mini-Terry’s, or (like Iggy) just be dull and obedient enough for Terry to never notice if they had any thoughts against him and too lazy/stoned to actually act on them anyway. But Mickey’s more talkative, more sarcastic, more clever, more introspective than his brothers and I think that means more talking back, more questioning, more doing his own thing and then getting fucked over for it. I think there were a lot of times where Mickey got beat on by Terry because of his mouth, but I also think there were probably a lot of times that seemed to be for no reason (but of course Terry would have a reason, just not one that Mickey knew). We also know from Mickey’s monologue in season 10 that Terry was also emotionally manipulative and emotionally abusive and very neglectful of his children on top of his physical abuse. Things like that defensive waking aren’t just about defense from being hit, they’re also about being hyperalert regarding the emotional state of other people in the home, or the presence of strangers, or the discomfort of being somewhere unfamiliar like wherever they ended up through CPS, things like that.
I think Mickey spent most of his life into his teenage years walking on eggshells around his father and even somewhat around his older brothers. He’s quick, angry, and defensive the way that he is because he had multiple bigger, older, and probably physically stronger family members who could and probably did fuck him up pretty good if he stepped wrong. It’s also probably why he kind of established himself as the organizer of scams and things like that; if he can get into this position of power/control as the brains of the operation (whether it’s threatening a pedophile schoolteacher or scamming people with moving trucks or y’know whatever) then he’s got one less line he has to be wary of crossing.
I think Mickey’s defensive waking comes from that, the fact that even just sleeping in his own home still holds unexpected threats of someone being drunk or angry and picking on the youngest brother, or of him talking back or being sarcastic and catching shit for it. Terry’s also an asshole and I wouldn’t be surprised if he was especially cruel when Mickey was younger, before he had more of a sense of self or agency (and so was less likely to fight back physically or verbally). By the time Mickey is introduced in the show I think he mostly knows to walk on eggshells around his family, how to navigate those hidden mines of violence and abuse.
Which is why he’s so magnetized when it comes to Ian: this is quite literally the first person (except maybe Mandy) who he can be vulnerable or at least gentle with who doesn’t immediately judge him for that. Ian does not see him as weak, or as inadequate, or anything like that. He doesn’t have to establish dominance by threatening Ian (at least once he realizes Ian’s not afraid of him and things are more established between them) and he doesn’t have to hide his feelings as much. I don’t think Mickey is good at articulating his feelings; I think he is good at thinking them over and admitting them to himself when he’s ready, but he struggles with expressing them to others. So Ian’s acceptance and general nonchalance around him is a sort of rare gift, an oasis in the middle of this life of violence and abuse and anxiety that he’s lived in for like 16 or so years when we first meet him.
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grandhotelabyss · 3 years
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(Ask a black American if he or she thinks our Civil War didn't solve anything.)
—Susan Sontag, “Why Are We in Kosovo?” New York Times (1999)
It is because America's crime, its real crime, is to be America herself. The crime is to exude the dynamism of an everchanging liberal culture. America is like Israel in that respect, only 50 times larger and infinitely richer and more powerful. America's crime is to show that liberal society can thrive and that antiliberal society cannot. This is the whip that drives the antiliberal movements to their fury. The United States ought to act prudently in the Middle East and everywhere else; but no amount of prudence will forestall that kind of hostility. And this should not be news. For the radical nationalist and Islamist movements are not, as I say, anything new. Movements of that sort are a reality of modern life. They are the echo that comes bouncing back from the noise made by liberal progress. And this should tell us truths about the struggle that has suddenly fallen upon us.
—Paul Berman, “Terror and Liberalism,” The American Prospect (2001)
If you’re actually certain that you’re hitting only a concentration of enemy troops…then it’s pretty good because those steel pellets will go straight through somebody and out the other side and through somebody else. And if they’re bearing a Koran over their heart, it’ll go straight through that, too. So they won’t be able to say, “Ah, I was bearing a Koran over my heart and guess what, the missile stopped halfway through.” No way, ’cause it’ll go straight through that as well. They’ll be dead, in other words.
—Christopher Hitchens, qtd. in “The Left and 9/11,” The Nation (2002)
My frustration, in other words, is not that we took action in Afghanistan but that we have not done enough. We should have fought the ground war and occupied Kabul; organized an international force to disarm the warlords, protect ordinary citizens, and oversee the distribution of aid; demanded that secularists be included in the negotiations for a new government and that basic women’s rights be built into a new structure of law. If this is “imperialism”—in the promiscuous contemporary usage of that term—I am for it: I believe it is the prerequisite of a stable peace.
—Ellen Willis, “Why I’m Not for Peace,” Radical Society (2002)
Obama understands the white liberal American distaste for power as a symptom of white privilege, and he is certainly right. 
—David Samuels, “Invisible Man: How Ralph Ellison Explains Barack Obama,”  The New Republic (2008)
The 20th century, with its struggles for equal rights, with the triumph of democracy as the ideal in Western thought, proved Douglass right. The Civil War marks the first great defense of democracy and the modern West. Its legacy lies in everything from women’s suffrage to the revolutions now sweeping the Middle East. It was during the Civil War that the heady principles of the Enlightenment were first, and most spectacularly, called fully to account.
—Ta-Nehisi Coates, “Why Do So Few Blacks Study the Civil War?” The Atlantic (2012)
(Whether for better or for worse—both for better and for worse—liberalism means war:
The Gnostic valorization of freedom at the same time articulates an exceedingly vindictive denunciation of the physical world, a condemnation far harsher than any perspective found in Christian orthodoxy. The radical dualism of Gnosticism means that its adherents assume a drastically different spiritual posture from that of the Christian believer; whereas the latter experiences saving knowledge as the increasing awareness of his or her sinful condition in a divinely created cosmos, the Gnostic sets out to regain his or her innocence in a world that is the misshapen and unregenerate product of a malign deity. Thus, Gnosticism, in order to sustain its belief in the innocence of the uncreated spark, must project all that is baleful and malevolent onto the cosmos itself. The assertion of this insuperable divide between one’s inviolable self and the woeful prison of matter generates an equally intractable sense of indifference to one’s actions in the world, since such indifference, which is actively assumed out of disdain and horror and thus not to be mistaken for detached quietude, demonstrates the powerlessness of the Demiurge to corrupt the divine spark within. According to [Harold] Bloom, the American Religion is likewise defined by the conviction that the world and one’s actions in it are irrelevant to the purity of the self: “If your knowing ultimately tells you that you are beyond nature, having long preceded it, then your natural acts cannot sully you. No wonder then, that salvation, once attained, cannot fall away from the American Religionist, no matter what he or she does” (265). Furthermore, if the creation is truly identical to the Fall, and the physical world reveals the designs of an antagonistic deity, then the sacrosanct self becomes defined according to its hostility against the order of being. For the American Religion’s worship of freedom is at the same time a war against otherness, which it understands as “whatever denies the self’s status and function as the true standard of being and of value” (Bloom 16).
—Peter Yoonsuk Paik, “Smart Bombs, Serial Killing, and the Rapture: The Vanishing Bodies of Imperial Apocalypticism,” Postmodern Culture [2003])
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diyunho · 4 years
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The Joker x Reader - “Trapped”
Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.
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Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5
“Do you think she’s faking it?” Santos whispers and his boss Jericho replies under his breath.
“Nope, not faking it. Y/N’s been like that since she recovered from the accident 5 months ago.”
The mobster and the newbie bodyguard watch you in silence while you cuddle with your yellow teddy bear: from time to time you kiss its forehead and then squeeze him tightly in your arms again.
“I heard rumors,” Santos addresses the gossip. “Is it true she’s like that because of Mister Joker?”
“Kind of,” Jericho mumbles. “Someone tried to kill him in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way; she got hit instead. Full impact, you know? Broken bones and fractured skull plus an inoperable hematoma that presses on her frontal lobe. She was out of business for 6 months and when she finally recovered… Well, you can see the result; major cognitive impairment. Not herself anymore…”
“You sure are informed boss,” Santos chuckles. “Weird a man like Mister Joker chose to allow this situation for so many months: 6 months for her to recover then 5 extra ones of this behavior… He’s not tolerant person.”
Jericho lifts his shoulders up, indifferent to the henchman’s insinuations.
“How do you think sex is?” Santos winks and a crabby voice freezes the words on his lips.
“Challenging,” J growls, displeased at the speculation on his private life.
The two mobsters turn in their chair and he passes by in a hurry, taking a sit by you on the small couch situated in the middle of the warehouse.
“I’m done inspecting the cargo, looks good. My crew is putting the money together for the payment; should be done shortly.”
Alarm chimes on his cellphone and he detaches a tiny pouch out of his suit’s pocket, getting your attention too.
“Hey Pumpkin, you have to take your meds.”
“Hm?...” the confused Y/N stares at him as she bounces the teddy bear on her knees.
“Here, take this,” J offers 3 capsules with a bottle of water and you have difficulty understanding the request. Yet he’s not annoyed and helps you regardless of having an audience: The Joker plainly doesn’t give a damn.
“Perhaps if you give her a lollipop she’ll be receptive; might improve sex also,” Santos snorts, ignoring Jericho’s instant warning:
“Watch your mouth!”
The offender is not worried though: he believes that being his boss’s protégé grants him immunity regarding his own carelessness.
“It might,” The King’s sinister grin creeps up on the red lips. “Thanks for the advice, I’ll try it.”
“She loves that teddy bear, huh?” Santos implies and surprisingly enough J explains why:
“I got it for her on our first date. We were walking downtown late at night, Y/N saw it displayed in a window at a toy store and loved it. So I shattered the glass, took it and both ran away since I triggered the alarm. I had this feeling that pretending to be sweet would get me laid.”
“Did it work?” the goon pressures for a confession, laughing at The Joker’s honest answer:
“No.”
“Sir!!” Panda yells from across the huge room. “Can we get you for a sec?”
“Excuse me,” he sneers and leaves the group while Jericho preaches to the bodyguard:
“Are you completely stupid?! Don’t say stuff like this in front of him!!”
“You’re one of his main business partners and he won’t risk initiating trouble. My opinion is that Y/N and Mister Joker are playing games, totally pretending about her condition. Let me try a puny experiment and find out if I’m correct.”
“What are you doing?!” the puzzled Jericho inquires as Santos gets up from his chair and sneaks by the sofa.
“I never had the pleasure of meeting Y/N, but if the information circulating around is accurate about her she will shred me to pieces if I do this.”  
He inspects the surroundings for a moment: not a soul nearby and the unexpected slap landing on your cheek makes you jump.
“Anybody home?” Santos bends over to analyze your reaction.
“Cut it out!” Jericho raises his voice, uneasy about his bodyguard’s deed.
“Mister Joker!!” Frost shouts from beyond a few creates he’s sorting out while keeping an eye on you.
Only idiots would have the impression J doesn’t have a system in place appointed to ensure your safety; obviously Santos is one of them.
“Boss!” Jonny reports to The Joker emerging from the back room. “Santos slapped Y/N!”
“I didn’t!” the latest defends his conduct, worried to notice your furious boyfriend stomping towards him.
“Let’s not be hasty,” Jericho attempts to fix this major mess-up yet The Clown Prince of Crime removes his gun from the holster, shooting Santos in the head: he knows Frost wouldn’t lie, thus he doesn’t need a justification for murder.
“Jesus, Mister Joker! You didn’t have to do that!” Jericho reprimands although he should zip it.
“You let him disrespect me on my territory?!” The Joker yanks at your hand. “Let’s go, Pumpkin!”
“I had no clue he’ll do it, ok?”
“If you can’t control your men, then give up leadership!” J drags you after him as you struggle to catch up. “The deal is off!” he screams and Jericho is unhappy about the outcome.
“What do you mean the deal is off??! We’ve been planning this for weeks!”
“Take your merchandize, disappear and I’ll enjoy my money, is that clear enough for you?!” the crazy green haired individual slams the gate, guiding you to the car in the parking lot. “Why are you such a pushover?” he angrily scolds. “I’m so tired of this crap!” J shoves Y/N in the passenger’s sit, aggravated to the point of blaming her for ruining his profitable transaction.
************* “That was such a good deal and I blew it! It’s all your fault!” he accelerates while you seek to make sense of everything thrown your way: when memories, concepts and sounds are melted in a brain lacking the affluence of logic, forming simple sentences physically hurts.
“You made me lose my temper!” The Joker lashes out since he’s aware his decision to cancel the arrangement with Jericho wasn’t the best. “You can’t defend yourself and you barely articulate elementary words! I miss having conversations with you, Y/N! Can your mind comprehend this?! You used to be funny, sassy and witty! You’re accountable for what happened, you dumb woman! I wouldn’t have done the same for you, I hope you know that!!!!”
You close your eyes, concentrating very hard on his remarks: something about wit, sass and… and…
It’s too much so you cover your ears, which prompts him to completely have a meltdown.
“Get out of the car!” he hits the breaks, leaning over to open the door on your side. “Get out I said!” he screams and forces you out against your will: you start crying, incapable of discerning what he wants and it makes you increasingly anxious. “Go be useless on your own!” he closes the door and takes off, abandoning Y/N without money or any other means in the industrial area outside Gotham City.
J continues to drive for another 15 minutes before halting at Southampton railway crossroads: the barriers are blocking the path and the red light keeps blinking, a sign the train is approaching. Not a lot to do besides waiting so he deeply exhales, still fuming at today’s events.
The Joker huffs at the sight of your teddy bear resting in between the seats; you probably dropped it when he nicely asked you to flee the vehicle.
Why are you attached to this boring stuffed animal to begin with? I mean, each time it requires washing you won’t budge from the laundry room until it’s returned to you. After the accident you carry it everywhere so maybe you wonder where it’s at…
J taps the steering wheel, pissed this idea randomly popped to bother him.
Nothing to be concerned about, he ditched you in the industrial area… that’s been closed for the last four years… the factories are empty, no people there… except creeps… searching for easy prey… like you…
“Fuck!” he abruptly backs out and the skid marks on the gravel certainly indicate he’s in no rush at all.
In less than 15 minutes he sees you limping on the right side of the road and slowly pulls over, waiting for you to get to the car. However, there’s a small fact The Joker didn’t anticipate: Y/N disregards the car plus its driver and keeps walking.
“Great…” he sighs. Stepping on his pride isn’t common practice for him, yet he grabs the yellow toy, sprints out of the SUV and follows the upset Queen. “Hey Pumpkin! Hey!!”  
You immediately turn around and stutter, frustrated:
“Y-you left me!!”
J is stunned to hear what he considers a whole tirade coming out of you; he’s positive it took a lot of effort.
“Umm…you forgot your teddy,” he extends his arms and you snatch it, hugging the plush bear to your chest. “I don’t understand what’s so important about a cheap…”
“Hm?” you frown, interrupting.
“The toy I got for you,” J repeats. “Why do you like it?” he simplifies the phrase so you can better process its meaning.
“Reminds…”, you strain really hard to organize your thoughts, “Reminds me… when you liked me… when I was… when I was  smart…” and you wipe your tears, upset. “Now… now I’m stupid…”
The Joker doesn’t know what to say and him not having a reply it’s a rare occurrence.
“You’re not stupid,” he mutters and because you won’t quit sobbing the question arises: “Hey Y/N, who’s my girl?”
What is he talking about…? A girl?...What girl?...
You spin to check your surrounding and J lectures, exasperated.
“For God’s sake, Princess. I’m talking about you: you’re my girl!”
“Hm?”
“Let’s put the neurons in your beautiful brain to rest, shall we? I think they’re oversaturated,” The Clown Prince of Crime decides, pleased to see he distracted you and you’re not crying anymore. “Are you hungry?”
You appear lost and he hints:
“You want food? We can get pizza, wings, possibly ice-cream from our favorite place. OK?”
“Pizza?” your face lights up and so does his without him realizing.
“A-ha. You love your peperoni, true?”
Oh boy, thank heavens the trick worked and you’re in the car again without any additional energy from his part; you didn’t caught on to it and it’s perfect. I guess your situation has a few perks.
“Hey Y/N, you know what else I miss?” The Joker cruises up the street, sulking. “Our fights! I swear I do! I lived for that shit! When you told me you hated me and I wanted to end you,” he snickers at the recollection. “If you hated me so much why did you save me?”
“No hate…” you smile and he’s truly amazed you kept up with his rambling. “Love…” you playfully touch his shoulder with the teddy bear’s paw.
The King of Gotham is speechless again; he avoids glaring in your direction and he’s relieved you don’t have enough transparency to notice how flustered he is.
“Pumpkin…” J grumbles in a low tone. “Do you believe that after that blood clot in your brain is reabsorbed, you’ll be more like your old self? The doctors said it won’t make a difference, but what the hell do they know?! Please say yes, even if it’s a lie. Hey Pumpkin,” he reiterates since you emotionlessly gaze at the landscape outside. “Say yes.”
“Hm?”
“SAY: YES,” The Joker persists.
“Yes?”
“Good girl,” he smirks and hastens towards the city. “You want ice-cream first?” the inquiry continues, yet J is used to monologues regardless. “Are you gonna let me have a bite? Can you predict what else I would like a bite of?” he leans over and whispers in your ear.
“Hm?...” the disoriented Y/N crinkles her nose.
“Dammit!” The Clown Prince of Crime exclaims. “You’re supposed to mention it’s indecent and then agree to it, Y/N!”
What does he want now?... something about  a bite?
You reach over and take his hand, sinking your teeth in the laughing mouth tattoo.
J snorts and then starts cracking up with all his heart, the awkward noises making you giggle.
”What am I going to do with you, Princess?” he shakes his head, amused nevertheless at your interpretation.
The Queen doesn’t answer, very captivated by The Joker’s silver grin; one could estimate it makes her happy although she can’t pinpoint the reason why. Y/N snuggles with the teddy bear that the madman stole for her on their first date hoping he’ll get laid, already delighted about their upcoming lunch.
The woman may not be the same person she was before the accident, but at least one detail is unchanged: she’s still The Joker’s Pumpkin.    
 Also read: MASTERLIST
You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.
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floatingpetals · 5 years
Text
There’s History There
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: a little bit of angst, self-worth doubt, but plenty of fluff
Word Count: 2900+
Request: “ hello! can you do a oneshot where your ex-fiance visits the tower and current fiance!Bucky sees you two hanging out and having fun and becomes insecure about himself and how happy he can make you” -Anon
A/N: I didn’t go as hard with this one as I could have, but there’s still a little bit of insecurity in there. It’s also a lot longer than I thought it be lol. I hope you enjoy! ❤
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“Hey, has anyone seen Y/N?” Bucky asked the group as he stepped in the kitchen. He just finished the mountain of paperwork he put off the past few weeks and was desperate to find his fiance and unwind. Natasha and Bruce glanced up from the kitchen table where they sat eating their lunch, Bruce grinning at Bucky. Out of everyone, besides Tony or Steve, Bruce was the happiest for Bucky and Y/N, who was like a little sister to him. 
“I think she’s down in the main lobby with Tony. I think someone is here to see her. Tony curious so he tagged along.” He supplied. Bucky raised a brow, curiously wondering who could possibly be here. He nodded and went to grab a bottle of water before he waved over his shoulder and headed to the elevators.
He fiddled with the wrapper on the bottle, humming a soft song under his breath while he waited for the short elevator ride. He was going through the possible visitors in his head, but none really stood out. Y/N saw her parents just last weekend to tell them about their engagement. He went with her, one of the many reasons why his paperwork was put off for so long, and they lived in a completely different state. So it couldn’t be them. Her best friend had complete access to the compound and the few times a month she’d come to visit, she’d just walk right in the compound. So whoever this was, wasn’t someone he knew.
The ding signaled his arrival at lobby floor and he didn’t think anything of the mystery visitor. The door slid open and he took a step out, searching the lobby for his fiance and Tony. He spotted them sitting on the couches, Y/N and Tony’s back to him as they laughed with each other. He eyed the person on the other end of the couch, something about the man sparking a bit of recognition in his mind. Yet Bucky for the life of him couldn’t pinpoint exactly who the man was.
Even as he crossed the room, he couldn’t quite figure out who the man was. Bucky didn’t have time to try and place the face before Y/N spotted him coming towards the corner of her eye and reached out to him with a happy grin.
“Hey, baby.” She greeted, slipping her fingers in his hand as he reached out back. He gave her a happy grin in return and settled to sit on the armrest and set the bottle on the floor beside his feet. Absently, Bucky began playing with her shiny diamond engagement ring he spent hours and hours searching for, the pride and excitement swelling in his chest in knowing that she agreed to be his. He nodded to Tony, who raised two fingers in greeting and then turned to the man who was staring at Y/N’s hand intertwined with his. “Oh, Bucky this is Jackson. Jackson, this is Bucky.”
Ding. That’s how he knew of this man. Jackson is Y/N’s ex. Not just ex-boyfriend of two years but her fiancé of three months. This wasn’t a fling relationship between the two of them. They were high school sweethearts growing up, the class vote as the cutest couple. They intended to get married, they had plans to spend the rest of their lives together. Somewhere along the way, things didn’t work out and they broke off the engagement.
Y/N never went into detail about why they broke up and at the time it wasn’t entirely important for Bucky either. She never really mentioned him, even the few times she did there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was moved on and over her ex. Y/N and Bucky had been together for the past two years, and both were incredibly happy with their relationship. Clearly, since she very enthusiastically agreed to marry him.
Bucky felt his blood run cold, his stomach dropping to the pit of his stomach. Jackson smiled warmly at Bucky, completely unaware of Bucky’s realization and stuck his hand out across the table.
“Nice to finally meet you, Bucky. Y/N’s told me a lot about you. Congrats on the engagement too.” He said with cheer in his voice. Bucky had to mask a frown, uncertainty starting to bubble at the surface. This attention was a little out of left field, well more like way out of left field into the next park across town. They still talked to each other?
“Oh yeah, thanks. Nice to meet you too,” He muttered lamely. He glanced away, freezing when he locked eyes with Y/N. She had a strange look on her face as she watched them both interact, although when Bucky turned back to her, she wiped it from her expression but not fast enough for him not to catch it. The dazzling smile came back from before and she turned back to Jackson.
“So Jackson was just telling Tony and me about this gala he’s want to have here soon for his nonprofit organization.” Y/N beamed with a touch of pride. A sudden sharp pain shot through Bucky’s heart. “Tony’s thinking of hosting the event here and inviting a few of his ‘higher up friends’ to help.”
“And as I’ve said, he doesn’t have to,” Jackson argued. “It’s a kind thought, but I can figure it out myself.”
“I’m not doubting you could.” Tony injected. “Just think of this way. You let me help you by hosting the event here, I invite all the people who have more money than they know what to do with it, and you’ll get a few sponsors out of the deal.”
“And what do you get out of it?” Jackson asked, biting the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Tony smirked and shrugged.
“I get the excuse to drink and Pepper can’t get mad at me.”
Y/N and Bucky both laughed softly, shaking their heads at their teammate who seemed rather pleased he found a loophole in the system. Jackson appeared to mull over the idea of giving in to Tony, but they all knew he was more than willing to hand the reigns over and have someone else take over. Y/N had already flat out said that planning things wasn’t exactly Jackson strong suit. He was better leading and bringing people in, not setting the meeting up.
“Well. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I really do appreciate it.”
Tony waved him off with a flick of the wrist and started to stand. He stuck out a hand for Jackson to shake before he tucked his hands in his pockets.
“The pleasures all mine. And please, Tony’s just fine.”
Y/N and Jackson stood, Bucky staying put on the air rest with his fingers still gripping Y/N’s. She turned and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before she pulled away to walk around the coffee table to Jackson. Bucky watched on as they shared a hug, the two lingering longer than he would have liked as Y/N rubbed his back. It made his heart hurt once again his chest and he had to rip his gaze away.
“It was good to see you again Jackson. I know this wasn’t exactly how you’d thought this would end, but I’m glad I get to see you again.”
Jackson hummed and stepped back, but kept his arms resting on her hips while he looked down at her.
“Same with you. I’m bringing Devin to the gala for you to meet. I doubt I could get away with going to Tony Stark’s party without them.” He chuckled fondly. Y/N giggled and nodded.
“Can’t wait.”
Jackson said a final goodbye to Tony and Bucky, who shot him a tight-lipped smile and a gruff farewell before he headed out the door to where his car waited. Even after the door’s shut behind him, Bucky didn’t relax. Thoughts were swirling around in his mind, bothersome doubts growing in his thoughts. Y/N was still too familiar with him, too open and surprisingly happy to see him. He caught how she smiled at Jackson, the same smile she had only reserved for him. The corner of her eyes crinkled, the way she laughed openly and without her usual control. It was unnerving and the sight made the vicious little demons in the back of his head come rushing up to the top.
Jackson appeared to have his life together. He was dressed smartly, was articulate and polite, Y/N still obviously liked talking with him, and more importantly, he didn’t come off as a complete asshole. So the question Bucky kept finding himself asking was; what happened and why did they break it off?
Y/N was watching Bucky stare off as Tony took his leave, seeing the dark clouds swirl around in his eyes and figured it was best to let the two of them deal with it alone. Something was bothering him, she figured as much when her ordinarily charming fiance clammed up after the introductions. But watching his perfectly placed mask slip from his face to show the scared and the insecure man she knew was deep down inside pulled at her heartstrings. Walking forward to stand in front of him, Y/N brushed his hair back to tuck behind his ear. Bucky jolt and tore his gaze up at Y/N.
“Where’d you go?” She asked softly. Bucky frowned, blinking rapidly while he struggled to shut the little voices in his head up. “I know something’s bothering you. You can tell me now if you want, or I’ll wait until you fall asleep and start talking in your sleep again.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep.” Bucky sulked. Y/N raised a brow, a bit amused at his denial.
“Just last week you admitted to me you were the one who stole Natasha’s chocolate stash and that you were the one who put the red sock in Sam’s whites.”
Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but heat flooded his cheek fully aware he was caught.
“Yep.” Y/N said with a pop at the end of the ‘p’. “Torture doesn’t work on you but give you a nice fluffy pillow and blankets with some cuddles and you sing like a canary. Now. The question is, which path do you want to take?”
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and let out a heavy breath. He knew there wasn’t any way around this. He had been had. Y/N was smart enough to figure out something was wrong; not like he did a very good job at hiding it.
“It’s…” He began hesitantly and tried to school his face to not show off his discomfort. “Am I enough for you?”
“W-what?” Y/N’s face fell, stunned at his question. “Of course you are! What could have possibly made you think otherwise?”
“I-I don’t know. I’ve never seen you that happy to see someone else before, and the fact that he was your ex.” Bucky inhaled deeply, his face twisted at the bitter taste the words left in his mouth. “You have a lot of history and seeing how comfortable you are with him made me wonder.”
Despite the crestfallen expression on her fiance’s adorable face, Y/N couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly. Bucky scowled, perturbed that Y/N was finding this funnier that she should have. Here he was admitting something that was very difficult for him to get through, and Y/N was having a laugh. He didn’t appreciate it one bit. Bucky glared and sat back with his arms crossed, which only caused Y/N to laugh harder.
“Glad you find this funny.” He grumbled. Y/N struggled to control her breathing, wheezing and snorting despite her attempts. Bucky was growing increasingly agitated the longer this went on, debating on whether or not he should just get up and leaver her to it. To him, Y/N wasn’t taking his emotions seriously and he wasn’t going to put up with it. Before he could go to stand, Y/N, through her giggles and tears, gently grabbed his face and leaned in to press a loving kiss to his lips.
“Oh baby, I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” Y/N began and whipped the tear from her eyes. “Here you are, being honest and I can barely contain myself.”
“I thought we could be adults, but clearly that’s not the case.”
Y/N ignored his quip and took in a deep calming breath. She bit her her lips in an attempt to control herself before she kept on.
“Bucky, first and foremost. You are enough. You make me so deliriously happy; I can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel. I love you! Not anyone else, but you. Please don’t ever think you couldn’t ever be enough, because you are. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” Y/N stated confidently, gently cupping the sides of Bucky’s face to keep him from turning away. “But secondly, there’s a reason why Jackson and I aren’t together. Yes, we started to drift apart after high school, but it’s something much bigger than that.”
“Which is?” Bucky asked timidly. A number of scenarios rapidly came to Bucky’s mind. Did he cheat on Y/N? Did they just fizzle out and never get to rekindle that romance side? Was that something that would ever happen with them? God, I hope not, he thought as the pain ignited in his chest again. Y/N giggled yet again, but this time was capable of containing herself of letting it go further.
“Bucky. Jackson’s gay.”
“Ah.” Bucky blinked. Well, that wasn’t what he excepted.
“Devin is his husband.” Y/N continued. “He realized it sometime after we graduated from high school and went to our separate colleges. Jackson was able to get away from his super conservative mom and realized that he wasn’t as into women like he was raised to think. By that point, he and I had already decided that the distance was too much and we would be better off separating amicably. 
I guess I always kind of knew too with how he wouldn’t do certain things with me without feeling weird about it, but when we were dating in high school and even those brief months we were engaged, he denied it every turn of the way. His mom was furious when he came out and disowned him along with the rest of his family. I was one of his only few friends who supported his decision and was there for him when he needed the help. For the longest time, he was incredibly depressed, and I was afraid I’d lose him if I didn’t check up on him every few days.”
Relief washed over Bucky, along with a touch of embarrassment. That’s why she seemed so close with Jackson. Not because there were underlying feelings between them, but because Y/N and Jackson both had gone through an emotional ordeal. She was Jackson’s support in his time of need. Of course, she would be, Y/N’s heart was huge and she hated seeing people in pain and suffering. Especially if she was able to help in any way.
“That’s actually what his nonprofit is for. He offers support to the young teens of the LGBT community who have been kicked out of their homes because their families don’t agree with who they love. He had support from friends when he came out, but a lot of others don’t.” Y/N brushed the hair from Bucky’s face, beaming with pride as she explained her ex-boyfriend/ best friend’s career choice. “Even if Jackson wasn’t gay, we were growing apart as it was, and I think we still would have ended things before we went through with the marriage. Yes, I loved him, but we both wanted vastly different things as it was. It never would have worked out regardless. Besides, I think it was meant to be.”
“What do you mean?” Bucky cocked his head to the side.
“If I married Jackson I never would have decided to go into biochemistry, which never would have led me to meet Bruce or Fury, which in turn, would have never led me to meet you.” She grinned. “Besides that marriage would have been a shame and neither of us would have been happy.”
Bucky laughed, letting his eyes fall closed and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Y/N’s. Y/N hummed softly and pressed a gentle kiss against his chin, lingering a moment before she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry if meeting him made you feel uncomfortable. I should have told you about him sooner, but I’ve always been a little protective of him.” Y/N whispered softly. Bucky sighed and pulled her against his chest.
“No, don’t feel bad. I didn’t mean to let the little bit of jealousy take over. I shouldn’t have doubted you either.” He murmured as he buried his head against the crook of her neck. Y/N giggled when his whiskers tickled her sensitive skin there, her body curling away from the beard. The corners of his lips curled up into a smile, but Bucky didn’t move to retaliate despite wanting to tease her further.
“Promise me you’ll never doubt yourself again though.” Y/N said intently. “You mean the world to me, and I won’t have you thinking otherwise!”
Bucky chuckled and nodded, warmth spreading through his chest. It was a nice change from the pain from earlier.
“I promise.”
“Good, now did you finish your paperwork?” Y/N shifted gears and stepped back. Bucky nodded and let her pull him to stand. “Even better. I didn’t get to cuddle with you this morning, so now it’s time to make up with an afternoon movie cuddle session.” 
Bucky’s heart swelled in his chest and the little voices in his mind were silent. How could he have ever doubted this amazing woman and the love she had for him? Now more than ever, Bucky felt his love for her grow tenfold. Their wedding day couldn’t come any sooner. 
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enby-hawke · 4 years
Text
OC Facts With Lucky Hawke
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I was tagged by @isalavhenan, thanks again for the tag. I love being able to rant about Hawke so thanks for letting me. 
PLACE IN SOCIETY
✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty
Hawke never knew hunger until he came to Kirkwall. His father ended up being conscripted into the Grey Wardens at the end of Leandra and Malcolm’s love affair. Though Malcolm could legally be a mage his children couldn’t and so moving around was necessary to avoid detection as well as for his job but because of the Grey Wardens the family was well taken care of. Because Malcolm was elven, even if they could afford better houses, they were usually forced to live out in the country where the laws aren’t as strict about those things. After Malcolm died, the budget was much tighter without a Grey Warden salary, but they at least had their family home in Lothering. When they lost it, the Hawke’s had to get used to hardship in Kirkwall. It wasn’t like Lothering where they could hunt freely for game in the Kocari wilds and forage from their garden when the month was tight. It was a year in poverty that Hawke was determined to dig himself out of, no matter what it took. Though even after his success with the Deep Roads and he had all the gold he’d need, it was still a difficulty to get his family’s estate in his name. For 3 years he would build connection and influence enough to get the court to recognize his claim as legal.  
✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged
From a young age, Carver, Bethany, and Lucky would recieve strict Grey Warden training as well as Malcolm’s mental training. Lucky is very fast and often casts haste on himself to move even faster. Though he is slight of build, he is strong even without his magic to enhance him and often doesn’t need his magic to win a fight.  
✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower / middle / working / unsure
With Leandra’s training in courtly etiquette and grace, the Hawke children often were able to charm guests with their manners and wit which helped make a better impression of their mixed race family. The tensions of race and class often came up with Hawke growing up and learning that sometimes passing as human didn’t always shield him from the realities of being elven especailly in school. Hawke was often hyperaware and dysphoric about his race, unsure how to navigate what it meant to be something in between. From a young age it was ingrained in him that he must assimilate into human culture because he’s human, even if other humans don’t exactly see it the same. Meeting Merrill, he found an ally in his struggle to identify with his other roots.
After the Deep Roads and his nobility officially recognized he enters upper class society but it is clear that the other nobles do not see him as equal, until he defeats the Arishok and becomes Champion. By then Hawke has become disillusioned by the upper class lifestyle and decides that the best course would be to become Viscount, if only to have a real chance at changing things in Kirkwall.  
✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying
Though Lucky had a loving home, it was often strict and full of studies of all sort which he resented. His mother would try to tutor him in the Game which is the only lesson he refused to learn because he never thought he’d need it. Malcolm was absent a lot due to his work, but when he was home, time was often spent teaching Lucky and Bethany magical training. He knows a lot of things from his forced education, and when he’s truly interested will sometimes lose focus trying to solve a magical problem. However he’s bad at articulating things at times and sometimes forgets to use his mind when he solves problems. 
FAMILY
✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged  / partnered / divorced / widow or widower / separated / single / it’s complicated
✖ CHILDREN – has children / no children / wants children / adopted children
Hawke ends up having a Dalish wedding with Merrill, a Chantry wedding with Fenris, and Isabela and Hawke remained lovers. Merrill and Hawke have a daughter named Aerys. 
✖ FAMILY – close with siblings / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated
✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / it’s complicated
Hawke was closer to his father than his mother which was difficult because Malcolm wasn’t exactly accepting of Lucky’s trans identity. Since they were young they felt weird about their gender but weren’t very concious about their dysphoria until he started puberty. He discovered he was queer young and had to be in the closet about it because the family has strong Chantry beliefs. When they decided to magically transition, he asked for support with Bethany to help him transition at least while he was at school though he still had to ask for help from his father to master shapeshifting which he struggled with for a long time. Carver found out and though he thought it was a bad idea, he reluctantly supported Lucky too. This eventually culminated into Lucky getting found out by his parents which started a fight. To make a story short it gets ugly but eventually Leandra and then Malcolm come to terms with who Lucky is. When Lucky wanted a new name he asked his father to rename him, and his father renamed him “Lucky because I’m lucky to have you in my life.”   Neither of his parents encouraged interest in his elven heritage and so often he was told to pride himself in being and Amell and a Hawke. When Hawke took back his estate he renamed House Amell to House Hawke, partly as a fuck you to all the nobles that gave him a hard time and kept calling him “Lord Amell” but also because he knew he would never be an Amell. He would never be anything other than the person he fought to become.  
TRAITS & TENDENCIES
✖ disorganized / organised / in between
Organization is Lucky’s enemy. His organization is *stick this into a void and deal with it later*
✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between
Hawke can admit when he’s wrong. “I’m just not often.” He uses blood magic to augment his shapeshifting and other magic as well. He is super wary of Chantry folk and the templars, templars being obvious, but in the Chantry that’s where some of his most racist bullying came from. He’s a very chill person most of the time, but once he’s made a bad judgement of you it can be hard to change his mind. 
✖ cautious / reckless / in between
One of Hawke’s biggest weaknesses is his temper makes it hard to think before he acts. To save his family and friends he will dive headfirst into danger or use incredibly dangerous magic forgetting that he’s not invincible. 
✖ patient / impatient / in between
Hawke can’t be bored. Their short attention span leads them into trouble.
✖ outspoken / reserved / in between
Hawke has a hard time holding his tongue. Impulsively saying whatever comes to mind also gets him into trouble. 
✖ leader / follower / in between
Because Hawke is impatient he will sometimes take control if no one is stepping up. He doesn’t like the burden of leadership, though and doesn’t mind hearing other people’s opinions. He is also stubborn so while he won’t force anyone to follow him, he’s not afraid to break from the pack to get where he thinks he wants to go.
✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between
Hawke is very empathetic and likes to make people to feel at ease around him. He often tries to joke to break tension which doesn’t always work. 
✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between
Lucky has fits of despair that he attempts to bury with stubborn optimism. He doesn’t give up easily, though. He will endlessly look for a solution, though if he comes up to a wall that won’t budge, it will sometimes leave him spiraling.
✖ hardworking / lazy / in between
If Lucky is interested in the project he will work the hardest at it, giving it his utmost focus. If he’s not, it’s a struggle and he will procrastinate or give up.
✖ cultured / uncultured / in between
Hawke learned “culture” from Leandra. That doesn’t mean he will choose to use it. 
✖ loyal / disloyal / in between
Hawke is loyal almost to a fault. You mess with someone he loves, you might lose a tooth. His friend’s enemies are his enemies and he’s fiercly protective.
✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between
Hawke is poly but he is faithful. It just the boundaries are different in his relationships. 
SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION
✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual
✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral /sex favorable
Sex is one of Hawke’s vices so he does occasionally have casual safe sex with hot strangers, but more than sex he craves closeness and connection with people. 
✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable
Hawke would say his heart’s a slut. There are many people that make his heart thump. Hawke often struggled with the idea of finding “the one” because there were so many people he felt romantically connected to to the point where he thought something was wrong with him. 
✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / uninterested
Hawke is usually up for new experiences and often uses his shapeshifting and magic in the bedroom (with people he can trust)
ABILITIES
✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
Though Hawke can easily kill with their blood magic they often use it to incapacitate, and wipe enemies minds. Killing makes the demons whisper louder so if he can avoid it he will.
✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
Though Hawke is smart he struggled in school especailly reading. It took a lot of effort to get the grades his parents expected of him, on top of all the other training that was expected of him.
✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
Lucky started writing poetry in his diary when he was young. Karaoke was something the family did a lot so Lucky started writing lyrics and eventually started making music on his computer. He still enjoys karaoke. 
✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none
I looked it up and I either don’t understand this question or he has none lol
I  tag , @prplhawke​ @embajadora-montilyet​ @envy-kitty​ @antivan-surana​ @mahalzevran​ @red-wardens​ aaand whoever wants to do it tag me. No pressure if you don’t feel like it of course. 
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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years
Text
Remnants, Part I
They did Ahkmenrah so dirty in the NATM movies, so I’m indulging. I’m not sure if this piece is going to work as a female reader-insert, but I am going to try that first. If you think it would be better with an OFC, let me know.
  Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.
   Warnings: None for now, but you can bet there will be smut; also, Ahk is a solid 20 years of age to be certain to avoid any squick factor. Also, if you’d like to be tagged, let me know : )
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Part I
On the night you first officially met, you weren’t sure whether it was his beauty or his sadness that overwhelmed you. Ahkmenrah was sitting in his exhibit alone, gazing at the hieroglyphs that adorned the walls. His mouth was set in a serious line, which only served to accentuate his sharp jawline. His eyes, a polychromatic swirl of blue and green, were trained on the stories, his stories. The air was filled with such a level of concentration that it felt wrong to disturb this once-king.
   Larry whispered, “About a year ago, we figured out that he wasn’t an evil, cursed thing. It is his tablet, after all, that brings everything to life.”
   “He’s not wax or stone, though, so, he reanimates?” you ask hesitantly, even though you already know the answer. It’s just that you can hardly believe in its morbidity—cheating death always has a price.
   “Every night.”
   Your mind whirled. Every night, this former king came to life, and every morning, he returned to the nothingness of death. A price—there’s always a price.
   “Does he remember things, like the new things that happen at night? Or is he stuck living only with the memories of his past?”
   Larry chuckled, “Do you want to ask him all these things yourself?”
You nod your head. Of all the exhibits Larry had introduced you to over the last month, he saved Ahkmenrah for last because he knew that the ancient pharaoh was the reason you became an anthropologist. Not, Ahkmenrah in particular, but the culture of ancient Egypt. Your grandmother used to tell you stories about the pyramids and first introduced you to the riches of this ancient, civilized land. Their mythology fascinated you, from childhood until now, and it was the very last step of your doctoral pursuit. Your dissertation was about the parallels between the monotheistic cult of Akhenaten and the foundational principles of early Christianity. Although Ahkmenrah was a pharaoh of the Middle Kingdom, you were certain that the path for monotheism had been laid as the pharaohs navigated the world, acquiring more wealth and power. Science advanced. The miracles of the gods were explained. And one god, across cultures, emerged.
   And then you got stuck. You needed a lead and Rebecca, Larry’s girlfriend and your aunt, cajoled Larry into helping. She knew you would make any sacrifice to prove your research and keeping the secret of the museum seemed like a small price to you. So, Larry tested your character by introducing you to a new exhibit each night, carefully measuring your reaction, and then making sure nothing wound up in the tabloids the following day.
   While it was shocking, you had already spent so much time living within the past, it almost felt like coming home. The knowledge each reanimation possessed gave you hope that Ahkmenrah could provide you with the information that would cement your doctoral candidacy.
   Larry gently took your elbow and pushed you forward. Your slight stumble echoed into Ahkmenrah’s chamber, and he slowly turned toward the noise, his statues shifting, awaiting the young king’s word.
   “Son of Ra,” you spoke as you lowered your head in a bow until you closed the distance between the two of you, then you dropped to your knees, extended your arms in a full bow, and touched your lips to the stone floor at his feet.
   You didn’t move, even as you heard Larry chuckle from behind you.
   “Larry, guardian of Brooklyn, leave us,” Ahkmenrah spoke in a commanding tone that immediately silenced Larry and you listened as his footsteps shuffled quickly away.
   “Rise.”
   You rescinded your arms but rose only into a kneel, keeping your head bowed.
   Ahkmenrah sighed, an utterly sad, small noise of nostalgia.
   “You are familiar with the customs of my people, and you greatly honor me; however, you and I both know there is no longer a need for such a display of reverence. My time has long, long passed.”
   The despondency in his words called to you. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, his large eyes trained on your face, searching it as you looked at one another.
   Ahkmenrah offered you his hand, and you hesitated in a comical moment of twitching forward to accept it, but holding back, the customs of the ancients reverberating through your mind.
   Ahkmenrah chuckled, and you huffed out a laugh, too. Your 21st century self won out, and also your insatiable curiosity to know if he felt more like skin or a tanned hide--you know, how a several thousand years old mummified corpse might feel.
   As your hands connected, you immediately knew it was not the latter; his hand was smooth and warm, your fingers glided across his palm to grasp his wrist as he grasped yours and pulled you up from your position on the floor. Neither of you let go immediately, until a slight blush colored both of your cheeks. You dropped his hand and apologized, but he cut you off.
   “I’ve had so few visitors,” Ahkmenrah began. “It’s just nice to remember what a person’s touch is like. I apologize for . . . I believe the correct term might be . . . lingering?”
   You smiled at his furrowed brow and at his struggle to articulate himself. English, after all, wasn’t exactly his first language.
   “You speak beautifully, your majesty.”
   “Thank you; I was on display at Cambridge for a number of years, but please, call me Ahkmenrah,” he stated, tilting his head just slightly as it occurred to him he didn’t know your name. “And what shall I call you?”
   “Y/N.”
   He smiled and said, “A lovely name.”
   You took a deep breath, gradually becoming more relaxed in his presence. Nothing prepared you for your meeting with this young man, well, sort of young man. As Larry tested you by moving through exhibit after exhibit, you thought you would be able to handle the one thing you were really here for. Most of the exhibits, while they did add a depth of feeling, were like talking to living, very interactive history books.
   Except now, face to face, this creature in front of you was clearly no text book. He radiated warmth and power; his eyes were so alive it made you feel like you were the one who was a reanimated corpse. Never had you seen such depth in a person’s gaze; it was unnerving, but also it was like a key, turning a lock to something deep inside of you that you didn’t know existed.
   It also didn’t hurt that he was beautiful. Because of his age at his death, he still possessed a softness around his features that made you want to define him as cute, but his presence elevated him to handsome. A flicker of jealousy coursed through you at the thought of him choosing a queen from a line of many, many suitors. And then there would be the matter of his secondary queens, and you were sure he would have no shortage of choices there, either.  
   You shook your head, wondering why in the fuck your mind chose to venture down that path. You shouldn’t be thinking about this barely-adult king and his sex life; it’s not like you were going to go that far in your research . . . he may not even have functioning parts, hell, he may not even have any of his organs—
   “I believe the expression is, ‘Penny for your thoughts?’” Ahkmenrah asks, startling a blush out of you.
   You choke out an awkward laugh, run your hands through your hair and take a deep breath.
   “This is just so surreal. I’m not sure how much you know about me or my work, but I guess I should just start at the beginning. I guess the easiest way to explain would be to use a reference. So, there’s a fun little game that people sometimes play and during it, you divulge who you would invite to a dinner party if you could have your choice of any person, living or dead.”
   Ahkmenrah watched you intently, listening.
   “While Akhenaten was always first on my list—18th dynasty, awhile after you, I always wanted to meet a ruler from the Middle Kingdom, one of the most glorious periods of rule in Egypt. And, well, here you are. It’s like, almost better than Cleopatra.”
   Ahkmenrah chuckled, “I can assure you that the tales of my country will be far better than what her’s would be. From what I’ve heard, she brought much scandal because of her dalliances with foreigners,” he said, his face conveying his clear disapproval.  
   “She brought the end of your Egypt.”
   “Yes. It’s, what was the word you used? Surreal! It’s quite surreal to know the fate of one’s kingdom. I often think about what I might’ve done differently had I known what I know now.”
   “They do say hindsight is 20/20.”
   “As in, the past always looks clearer from the present?” Ahkmenrah questioned.
   “Exactly.”
   You had hoped he would be smart, and in your small exchange, it became clear that he was. While his intelligence excited you, it was the genuineness of his smile that took your breath away. For a moment, you were reminded of Nick Carraway’s description of Jay Gatsby’s smile. And just like Nick, you were immediately drawn into it, drowning with a need to just know the bearer of that warmth with a greater intimacy.
   “You’re doing it again,” Ahkmenrah said through his smile, startling you out of your thoughts.
   You shook your head, embarrassed yet again.
   “I was thinking about something I read in a book once.”
   Ahkmenrah spoke with excitement, “Larry told me you preferred books to people because you didn’t have many friends in your youth. I’d like to show you something.”
   “I’d like to show Larry something right about now,” you mumbled as you followed the swishing of Ahkmenrah’s golden cape. He disappeared into a smaller nook between the walls of his exhibit and returned with a stack of ancient paper.
   “The tablet seems to also restore anything that is organic,” Ahkmenrah explained, showing you the pieces of papyrus that were covered in hieroglyphs. “This is the history of my family as told through our own voices . . . I think you would call it a diary?”
   You must have looked like an idiot, your mouth agape, your eyes darting between the paper in Ahkmenrah’s hands and his dancing eyes.    
   You started to speak, stopped, stuttered, and started again.
   “This is a first-hand account of the life of ancient Egyptian royals?”
   “Well, not exactly. My father was very thorough in his tracking of the members of our lineage and decided to include everyone’s stories—cousins of cousins, people who worked the fields or the rivers. I believe you will find there is much to learn from these pages.”
   Your voice cracked a little as you thanked Ahkmenrah for this honor, but before he held the pages out to you his face turned serious.
   “I’m sorry, Y/N, but you will only be able to read them while at the museum. Once dawn comes, they turn to dust, and if too much is scattered, I fear they will no longer reform.”
   “Of course! I’ll only read them right here.”
   “So, this means that you will be returning?”
   “Yes! My god, Ahkmenrah. You have no idea what this means to me.”
   Ahkmenrah smiled, the sadness leaving his eyes entirely for the first time that evening as he watched you carefully examine the pages of his ancient life.
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flying-elliska · 5 years
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What are the important bisexual characters that you said helped you? I am having a hard time finding good bi representation in which they aren’t considered promiscuous or unstable
Hiya anon ! What a quality question, thank you ! Here’s another mini essay about bi rep lmao.  If there are some that I forgot please tell me ! And to everyone, tell me about the bi characters who made an impact on your life, I’d love to know !!!!
Okay so.
-  When I answered the anon and talked about the characters that helped me come to terms with my sexuality, I talked about two in particular. Jack Harkness from Torchwood is depicted as very promiscuous, and somewhat instable. He still meant a lot to me because a) him sleeping around was never that much of a problem, it was because he was from the future, where things were different, which I thought was refreshing and b) his instability was because of the weight of being an immortal hero. Also fanon!Dean Winchester from SPN, as an older, more macho, emotionally witholding, badass dude written as bi meant a lot to me, but he doesn’t really avoid that stereotype either. But at least they were heroes.  However, I can understand wanting bi characters that actually don’t fit that stereotype, because bi people irl aren’t all like that, even if there is nothing wrong per se about sleeping with a lot of different people, or having mental issues to struggle with. And that was a while ago and now we have more and more cool characters ! Such as :
- Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. One of the best portrayals of bisexuality on TV imho. She didn’t start out as bi, she was this tough, cool, scary but with a heart of gold cop who had a lot of other plotlines before. But then, since they saw that a lot of wlw got this vibe from her, were really into her, and the actress came out as bi herself, they decided to use this. So it was super organic, and the way they introduced the subject was true to Rosa herself ; she’s a super private person, she doesn’t like anybody knowing about her life (it’s actually a running joke and Rosa Diaz has been implied to not even be her real name). But then she is dating a woman, and struggles with her parents not understanding and her coworkers find out, help her and support her. Her gay captain is there for her in his typical stoic but hilarious way. They organize game night with her when her parents won’t anymore. We see her crushing on women and dating, but it is treated exactly as the other character’s love life, they never make a big deal out of it. She isn’t the token queer character. She says outright she is bisexual and there is a specific point about her mom not understanding it’s not a phase and thinking she’ll end up with a man anyway, which #relatable. The focus is on the team as found family. Also right now she’s dating a butch woman, which is awesome since they are so underrepresented on TV and I hope we see more of her. That show really is my comfort show, it’s still bloodly hilarious and it really transcends the format to say some really deep woke stuff too, but never in a way that feels on the nose. Everyone should watch it tbh. 
- Korrasami ! Oh my god, I was so blown away when they got together. They’re two characters from the animated series Legend of Korra, they start out as rivals in love who have feelings for the same guy, but as they have to fight baddies together, they become bestest of friends, and both fall out of love with the guy. Then in season 3 and 4, their relationship becomes central to the show, as Asami stands by Korra through some really tough shit. Also, they’re both ultra badass and fight really well together. A lot of fans started reading their chemistry as romantic, but we’d never thought they’d actually go there. But the show ends with them walking into the ‘sunset’ (well, the spirit lands) together, holding hands. Now, it was never completely explicit on the show BUT they were dealing with a lot of censure from the networks and you have to be willingly obtuse not to read it as romantic. And after that the creators drew them on dates, and there is a comic series in which they are shown kissing, talking about their feelings, introducing each other to their families, etc. It made me feel so validated when it happened, and I just adore the whole ‘love triangle ditches the middle one and fall in gay love with each other’ trope. (is it a trope yet ? it should be.) It’s still a kids show at its core, but it has amazing depth and deals with some very deep shit. Korra starts off as a bit annoying but she has a really cool development, she’s a girl character we need more of - brave, dynamic but also brash and reckless and action driven in ways that are almost always exclusively shown for boys. And Asami is a more typical girly girl but she’s also a brilliant engineer and has a spine of steel and she’s also very slyly funny. They’re amazing. And the comics are super cute. 
- Now there are a lot of characters who are bi/pan that I love, and are good characters in themselves, but their arcs do intersect in some ways with promiscuity and mental instability. I’m thinking about Even from Skam and all his remake variants, Magnus Bane from Shadowhunters, several characters from Black Sails, Sarah Lance and Constantine from Legends of Tomorrow, Eleanor Shellstrop from the Good Place, Bo from Lost Girl, Ilana from Broad City, Joe McMillan from Halt and Catch Fire, God/Chuck from Supernatural (lmaooooo), several characters on Penny Dreadful, or in a totally different category, Vilanelle from Killing Eve or Hannibal from the series (who are hella bad guys but it’s never linked to their sexuality, and are also incredibly compelling to watch.)
 And even though these characters taken individually, I would argue, are good rep because they’re complex and layered and interesting and never one-dimensional (and watching them feels incredibly empowering at times)....it’s still a trend. I feel like when writing a character that is attracted to multiple genders, there is always this sort of...tangle of tropes that writers default to, unconsciously. Some negative and some positive. It used to be this trope of bis being villainous, instable, jealous, flaky, immature, perverted, manipulative, cheaters, amoral, greey, etc...and then it evolved into something of a reclaiming and subverting this trope. So now you feel like the Bi Character kind of has to be badass, glamorous, seductive, often superpowered or extraordinary in other ways.. And they also for multiple reasons (they’re immortal, they’re sensitive artist souls, they’re from the future, they’re psycho, they’re exccentric comic relief, they’re daring adventurers and pioneers) don’t care about social norms which allows them to sleep and fall in love with whomever. And so they tend to have those super busy romantic/sexual histories and very troubled backstories. In the past it was a bad thing, now it’s often presented as this positive, enlightened or at least fun and badass thing. They’re heroic, with big hearts, a tremendous lust for life and a cool rebellious attitude. They’re complex, dramatic, tortured. Which can be super cool, too. 
But it would be nice to have more ‘normal’ bi characters. I mean, boring bisexuals need to see themselves represented too ! Our sexualities don’t give us super powers. At the same time, it is true that bisexual ppl have higher rates of mental illness, which deserves to be explored, but it would be nice if it was actually articulated and not just part of this trope.  But still. We need rep, I think, that is more grounded and varied. So I think that’s also why I read a lot of fanfic. (I was really into the idea of bi Steve Rogers for a long time, partly also because he’s both very mentally resilient, kinda boring in a good way, and very unexperienced in terms of sex/romance, which is pretty much the opposite of the trope)
- I think books, and YA in general, are a good place to find these ‘normal bis’ characters. I’m thinking in particular of Leah from Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli (from the same book series that gave us the ‘Love, Simon’ movie) which is a super sweet coming of age/romance story about a super normal teenager who just happens to be also into girls (esp her best friend) and is loud and funny and very lovable and has zero doubts about being bi. You also have Adam Parrish from the Raven Cycle, another one of my forever faves ; he has an abusive family so PTSD from that but it never feels tropey, and it’s completely detached from his sexuality. He has magic powers, too. But his character feels completely opposite to the trope. He’s hardworking, somewhat withholding, prickly (and sometimes awkward), ambitious, determined, down to earth, and has a beautiful love story with another boy. And also Jane, from Jane Unlimited by Kristin Cashore, also really cool ; she’s a nerdy, smart girl who is actually inspired by Jane Eyre who has cool adventures in a weird house where we can follow her on different paths depending on the choices she makes, several of which are love stories. And finally the main character from The Seven Husbands from Evelyn Hugo, kinda fits the trope yeahhh since she’s a super glam actress who well, has seven husbands but it’s a pretty clever deconstruction since it turns out (slight spoilers) that Evelyn is actually through most of her life faithful in heart to the same person and the rest is mostly out of necessity, and her story feels very real and raw and down to earth. 
- I don’t go there yet but I really want to check out Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Schitt’s Creek which I have read have very good bi rep. And I want to catch up on Orphan Black (Cosima and Delphine both don’t have exact labels but they’re multi-gender attracted and they’re this cool couple of scientists in a relationship that gets a happy ending). I will never forgive what they did to Lexa so I stopped watching but I do think that Clarke Griffin from The 100 is very good bi rep. Alexia from Skam France, meanwhile, is a bit of a boundary case for me because, even though she’s presented as the ‘weird one’ from the group, very colorful and liberated and exccentric, she’s still a very normal teen who’s happy and comfortable in her own skin, which is awesome. 
- Disclaimer, I included characters in here that are also pan/omnisexual or don’t have a label but are attracted to several genders, for the purpose of this discussion i don’t think the difference is all that relevant at least to me (i mostly identify as bi for the sake of simplicity but tbh i could also fit under pan so i feel represented by all those characters). But I understand the importance of characters that state their identities more clearly and with pride. 
- So in conclusion : there is nothing wrong with having a sexually active life or struggling mentally (even tho that one is not fun). And I do love all my badass casanova time travelling super powered bis. 
But we need more bi characters that don’t fit that trope. We need bi characters in children’s shows, or that don’t have more than one relationship, or that don’t have a relationship at all, to break the tendency to always show bisexual ppl as overly sexual. We need bi characters in committed relationships to break this idea that bi characters are bound to cheat or can’t be satisified with only one person. We need bi characters that are mentally stable and successful and happy, to show that it’s possible. We need bi characters that are boring, bookish, nerdy, ordinary, clumsy, not particularly seductive, socially awkward, rule-sticklers, etc...to show that bi people are not all party animals, or doing it for attention, or to be wild, rebellious and socially progressive. It’s just a sexuality, it doesn’t say anything about your personality. Even though there are some correlations with MI or being bi might bring you in contact with more progressive ideas and to see life a bit differently, there is nothing automatic about it. 
- In conclusion, reading testimonies from real people also helped me a lot. It’s a very dated but I got the book “ Bi Any Other Name: Bisexual People Speak Out “ when I was struggling with my own sexuality and it helped a lot, to read that even back then (1991) you had all sorts of regular ppl claiming to be bi and that it was not a phase or a fad or whatever. 
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nerdylittoyvoid · 6 years
Text
Sleepsong - Bastille (Connor x Reader)
Hi! This is a little fic for @tea-with-loki‘s 2k celebration! Congratulations to them!
Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of death and depression 
Synopsis: Post-revolution, now deviant Connor becomes overwhelmed with experiencing emotions; something that was once like a foreign language to him.
Being deviant in post-revolution Detroit certainly had its advantages. Nobody had to worry about Cyberlife from coming after them. Plus, humans and androids could live together in harmony; rejoicing together in modern technology.
However, one downside was the whole emotions thing. Connor’s understanding and tolerance for it was lacking. He never knew that emotions had physical manifestations besides facial expressions and crying. He would become concerned for his health when he started experiencing headaches when faced with pressing or stressful situations, by his heart seemingly aching when feeling sad or down on himself, by the sensation of butterflies in his stomach when he looked at you, and so on. He’d frequently report mechanical malfunctions to Jericho (the organization that now repaired androids), concerned that he was falling apart. When he’d been told that what he was experiencing was of emotional origin, he began to educate himself on physiological reactions.
He now understood where and how his emotions were affecting him. The main problem now was talking about them.
Connor is one of the best investigative androids known to the DPD. Maybe even to man. What seemed pathetic to was that one of the best pieces of forensic technology wasn’t able to articulate how he felt.
He still at the DPD, right in homicide. The desk that used to be Hank’s, now empty. He felt a certain heaviness, thinking about the man he considered his father to be gone. But, he wasn’t ever able to somehow rid himself of this heaviness. Instead, it festered. It caused him long nights or crying instead of rest. He suffered in silence due to his inability to simply talk to someone else.
Because of this, he felt inferior. He felt as if he wasn’t smart enough, that he was cold because of his fear to express his emotions. He wanted to make friends, to form a family of some sort. He wanted to get close to others, but this newfound freedom came with what, some would say, a high cost. The cost of rejection, of getting hurt by another, misplaced trust.
He remembered walking through the park while still working on those deviant cases. While Hank was still here. Strolling through the paved path passing the playground, he overheard a mother speaking to her son, who was most likely not older than 6.
“You can go play by yourself, just don’t talk to strangers.” The woman had warned.
Connor thought that was a brilliant way of living. Don’t talk to strangers other then when strictly needing to, would protect himself from getting hurt. From being vulnerable.
This avoidant type of living would come with a different cost altogether. Loss, distrust, disassociation and last but certainly not least, loneliness.
He pushed you away. The way you made him feel scared him. Your presence made him feel calm. He forgot about the pain that weighed him down on a daily basis. Your joyfulness and open-minded personality made him feel safe. The odd thing about that was, it scared him away. Fearful of saying something he’d later regret, he stopped talking to her altogether.
You caused his heartrate to accelerate, butterflies raging in his stomach when you looked him in the eye. He knew this was what love felt like. He had read about it because he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a pressing mechanical issue.
He loved you. After all, you had been there for him ever since he had come to the DPD, befriending him and showing him the ropes. You had shown him what true humanity was.
But now, due to avoiding you at all costs, you two slowly began drifting apart. You began becoming strangers again; and Connor didn’t think it was safe to talk to strangers. The physiological and emotional reactions you gave him made him feel vulnerable, so he found it best to stay away. He didn’t want to open up. So, he went to bed alone at night.
Granted he didn’t sleep, he couldn’t. He’d just close his eyes and try to relax, enjoying the softness of the bed and the comfort that it gave him.
He didn’t want to be alone anymore, the hollowness seemingly eating him up. The bright colours of the real world were becoming whitewashed by his apathetic, anxious and depressed state. It was almost as if his reality was being swallowed by the real one.
Suddenly the back of his mind took over. He just knew if he was alone for another hour, he didn’t know what he’d do; and that scared him.
With shaking hands dialed the one person he could trust the most, you.
This was his last resort.
 Within 10 minutes you were at Connor’s house, practically cradling him as he let everything out.
You had experienced depression and issues with emotions and were no stranger to the struggles it brought. Listening patiently and open-mindedly, you tried to create the safe space that Connor needed so desperately. Although you were upset that Connor has experienced this alone, you couldn’t help but feel relieved. He had come back to you.
Little did you know, that in the end he’d always come back to you.
That night started a long road of knowledge and recovery for Connor, and you were there for him through all of it.
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lokiarsene · 6 years
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While researching Japanese orphanages, I came up with a few thoughts regarding Goro Akecho's past that are probable, and a headcanon or two here and there. If anyone has more knowledge with the subject, please feel free to correct me if any of this information is off the mark.
All my sources are listed at the end of the post. If you check any of them, please make it source #8, as that is a video where children in orphanages/foster institutions and the institution workers speak for themselves about their experiences, as well as what it’s like to be a part of Hinatabokko, a support group.
ETA: For clarity’s sake, the age of majority in Japan is 20. Not 18. Not 16. Goro and the PT are not considered legal adults until they are 20.
Also, Goro turns 18 in the game. He’s in his third and final year of high school, which would place him in this age bracket as per how Japanese students are assigned to school year. It is unlikely that he would have skipped grades, as that system doesn’t even exist in Japan:
“In Japan, there is no system for skipping grades during the compulsory education period. A student advances from one grade to the next. After completing their compulsory education, in order to get into a [senior] high school, students are usually required to pass an entrance examination.” (Source)
The “senior high school” bit here just means a high school that runs from first to third year. This is why Futaba has to take an entrance exam if she wants to continue her education past junior high.
We know that Goro approached Shido when he was 15/16--which is around the age some children are forced from their orphanages/foster homes (it ranges from 15~18). I'd go so far as to say that Goro approaching Shido was one of the most bitter pills he probably had to swallow. If he wanted to survive, he had to reach out to the father who had used his mother and abandoned the both of them. His other options would be extremely limited, if not non-existent. Most Japanese orphans and foster children end up unemployed or outright homeless once they're forced out of their homes, or they cycle through low-paying jobs with little hope of stability.
We know that Goro had planned a big elaborate revenge set up on Shido after gaining his trust and working with him, and I think many people, mostly critics of Goro, completely overlook just how many obstacles he had to clear just to get to Shido in the first place. Goro would have had no contacts, no social connections, and no political clout whatsoever that would allow him easy access to his father. I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason why Shido first gave him the time of day was a cruel whim.
Personally? My headcanon is that Wakaba Isshiki's research on Palaces, the Metaverse, and Treasures involved orphans and other such people that would easily be overlooked by society. While it sounds really crass to assume that orphans would be experiment victims, please note that I don't make that statement or offer it as a headcanon lightly. It's something I pieced together based on @jacks-plays-persona5​'s already existing argument for Wakaba’s research to be shady, as well as information gleaned from my research into Japanese orphans and foster children--that being they have little to no rights, and no one actively or even legally interested in their well-being or protection. What's more, children in these care facilities are often still beholden to their parents or relatives' control, even if they are not caring for the children.
From source #6: A care worker at an institution in Tsukuba said, “In Japan, the interest of the parents is seen as more important than the interests of the child.”
This refers to how children in these systems are often placed there by parents who can no longer care for them, but also refuse to actually legally give them up. Because of this, these children can never be formally adopted as they are still legally within their birth parents' custody.
To bring this back to the Wakaba headcanon: for parents who give up their children due to financial hardship, who's to say that they wouldn't thus be paid to give their children over to this research? There's even an instance of birth parents using their daughter to help mitigate their own financial troubles, such as the case of Kana-chan during Futaba's confidant link. Kana is not an orphan, nor was she placed in foster care, but the abuse and mistreatment she suffered was born from her parents' financial desperation and their callous insistence that Kana's life was theirs to do with as they pleased.
With the above information in mind, and with an in-game example of birth parents mistreating their own daughter for financial gain, I think my headcanon that "thrown away children" were sold for research to help their struggling parents is well within the realm of possibility. I also find it extremely difficult to believe that Wakaba would find willing, voluntary participants in such risky research, especially since it sounds like batshit crazy science on par with the Kirijo group's experiments in Persona 3.
Regardless--us not knowing exactly why Shido gave Goro the time of day is a frustrating oversight on the part of the plot, because by all rights Shido shouldn't have given an absolute shit about Goro unless something about him stood out from the get go. I highly doubt it could have just been Goro saying, “hey I have special powers for you to use.” Goro would have needed something else as a foot in the door before that revelation, or Shido would have already had to assume Goro capable of such a thing. Thus my headcanon that it was Goro's surname that caught Shido’s attention--perhaps Shido recognized it from Wakaba's research data? Or his own memories about Goro's mother?
It’s possible I’m totally overlooking something in canon that Shido says about this, as I haven’t yet gotten up to Shido’s fight in my replay and I have a totally abysmal memory. I’ll come back to this and edit in any information that either refutes or backs up this headcanon.
Now, back to the fruits of my research: Many children in these orphanages receive little to no education on top of spotty care from overworked and underfunded foster caretakers and the qualities of the homes themselves. For Goro to be as intelligent as he is--articulate, quick-witted, talented, and educated enough to work with the police while he's still a teenager--is downright miraculous. It strongly indicates that he desperately dedicated himself to his studies, most likely out of fear of where he'd end up if he wasn't smart enough to succeed. He himself admits he worked so hard so someone would accept and need him, but this doesn't answer how he had the resources to do so--it's very likely he did it all himself, which is another miracle considering that most children in orphanages don't continue past junior high, and they’re raised to do exactly as they are told, with little emphasis on individual decision-making. And even with all this, Goro is in a prestigious private high school in Tokyo. I know this is likely due to Shido's influence, but for Goro to have the knowledge to succeed in that school is still downright staggering.
Also gained from this research is the information that the hierarchy of bullying within Japanese orphanages is a tyranny of its own. Older children often antagonize and bully the younger ones, forcing them to 'stay in line' and listen to what the older children say. There is also very little privacy guaranteed to the children in these care homes--most have to live in very small spaces close together, and have to share bathrooms.
This information provides yet another necessary detail we can safely assign to Goro's background, one that leads nicely (re: heartbreakingly) into his reaction to hearing Ryuji talk about abuse in episode 3 of the anime. As an orphan, Goro would very likely have been a victim of bullying at some point, if not for the majority of, his stay in the facility.
From source #6: Japan’s alternative child care system suffers from overly large institutions where physical space is limited and chances for bonding are scarce; poor physical conditions of facilities; physical and sexual abuse by both caregivers and other children; and insufficient mechanisms for children to report problems.
With this in mind, abuse would very likely be no new thing for Goro at all, nor would it have been something he could easily or even reasonably do anything about. This could and very likely does explain how fervently he clings to his ideal of justice, as he was denied any hope of it for a long time. It also makes his Personas of Robin Hood and Loki all the more fascinating and hurtful: Robin Hood was a champion for the downtrodden and abused. Loki is responsible for the doom of the gods that imprisoned him and massacred his children.
I also don’t want to dismiss the very real damage that Goro would have endured from knowing that his mother committed suicide from the shame of giving birth to him.
To quote from source #8: Takao Inui, Deputy Head at Izumigaoka Gakuin Institution: “Of the 82 children [in the facility], 88% were previously abused. The term “abuse” cannot fully describe the scar they carry in their hearts when they come here.”
My research has also led me to the discovery of an organization called NPO "3keys," which is a fairly recent foundation that strives to help educate and support children in orphanages. When I say recent, I mean it was founded in 2009. If we choose to assume that the developers had this information in mind when writing Goro’s background, he would be in his early tweens at the time of 3keys’ founding, and thus still in an orphanage. It's possible that he was helped by an organization like/inspired by NPO 3keys, and perhaps this is why he's so intelligent and highly educated. But even this is a stretch, because it would assume that 3keys would have (1) had access to whatever orphanage he was living in, and (2) that his orphanage was within Tokyo or Yokohama (where 3keys operates)--as well as (3) that the writers even had this in mind in the first place. I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt here and assume yes.
Even if that's what happened, that still doesn't change the likelihood of Goro having been abused and mistreated on top of the already existing neglect and trauma of his mother's suicide, and Shido's obvious disinterest in taking any responsibility. What's more, Goro's knowledge of even how to live in society or function in the world likely would have come at a great mentally and emotionally exhaustive cost.
To quote Kiyomi Moriyama, from source #8: “I have friends now, but when I’m by myself I feel lonely. I can’t get used to being alone. Even now, I still don’t know how to spend time on my own. So I get quite lonely.”
Goro’s public personality of a charming, eloquent young man is thus both more impressive and heartbreaking when you realize he had no one actually caring for him, raising him, or helping him grow up at all. This is knowledge he would have had to learn by careful study and observation, or by imitating someone he idolized (very likely Naoto Shirogane and other idol personalities).
I'm basing this assumption off of this excerpt from source #5:
Masashi cared about his appearance – he wore fashionable, albeit worn, clothes and had styled his hair – but a sense of isolation clung to him.
“A day feels like it never ends,” he said, sighing.
It gradually became clear that, growing up in an institution, Masashi hadn’t acquired the knowledge and life-skills necessary to live independently. Nor had he received the continuing support he needed to re-enter Japanese society.
This is a lot of information to take in, and none of it’s easy or light. I’m honestly crying as I go through these sources, seeing what happens to these children and how painful and lonely it must be. To know that this was the basis of Goro’s backstory only makes what happens in Persona 5 all the more infuriating and hurtful.
If I can try to end on a somewhat positive note here, I would like to put forth the slightly desperate plea that the anime does not fail Goro like the game did, and that the anime gives him some sort of hopeful ending, or at least a path to rehabilitation for a young man treated like a throw away child, a young man who was never given a chance for love or support or happiness until the final months of his life.
... I don’t know how else to end this post, besides to ask those who read it to consider Goro’s character from the context of all this difficulty and loneliness, and to perhaps do what they can with this knowledge and put it forward into some kind of real world effort. And to pass along the link once again to 3keys, as donations are always helpful.
Source: Economist.
Source: Quora
Source: JapanToday
Source: Time
Source: HRW
Source: HRW, 2
Source: HRW, 3 (This is 119-paged report, by the by)
Source: HRW, 4 (This infant care institution is called Futaba, by the by)
Source: JPNinfo
Source: JapanTimes
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goron-king-darunia · 3 years
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Annon-Guy: Do you have a favorite and least favorite skits for each of the 12 Symphonia characters?
I haven't played either game in a long while, so I don't remember most of the skits and I'm not going to look all of them up but the ones I do remember are the ones I like, I think. Richter nearly killing Emil with his bad cooking is a good one. Emil being shocked to the point of tears that Sheena can cook because for a while he was beginning to belive that women just... could not cook thanks to Marta, Raine, and Colette. XD Emil wondering if he'll be able to kill Richter if it comes to that the way Regal killed Alicia and then trying to backtrack and act straight without implying that he doesn't like Richter and basically just... not having the words to express what he means. XD The classic "Sighs Four/Size Four pun because Tenebutt is trying and failing to lighten the mood." As far as skits I don't like go... leaving Emil out of the party long enough and triggering the skit where he feels sad and useless hurts me. I never actually knew that was a skit you could get because I main Emil and even though you can leave Marta out of the party, I rarely did. Leaving Marta out of the party and triggering her miserable "I feel left out skit" hurts but not as much because, as far as I remember, she seems to handle being left out better, but I still get sad about it even though I don't like her much. And the skit where Richter opens up to Emil for half a second and admits that the reason he knows so much trivia isn't because he's "smart" but because reading up on history and junk was all Sybak ever let him do just... sucks on several levels. Both because I feel like that hits really close to home for me: I'm highly educated but none of it is useful because, like, I don't have a job in the field I studied for so it feels like I kind of wasted a lot of time in academia without getting knowledge that I would actually use. Most of the stuff I actually use is knowledge I learned on my own. I also relate to Richter's abuse because I don't exactly have the best family or the best support network. My mom and my friends are, like, the least dysfunctional things in my life but even that's on thin ice sometimes. But it also hurts because, like... It really hits home that Richter had, like, 10 years of his life basically stolen from him because of the prejudice against half elves and basically the only thing he was ever really sure he wanted rather than something that was forced on him was he WANTED to be with Aster. And that got stolen from him. Other than his friendship/romance with Aster, he REALLY has no idea who he wants to be or what he wants to do. That's part of the reason I think he doesn't want to give up on getting Aster back, even though he can see it's hurting him and hurting others. Because if he gives up on Aster, he doesn't really have anything left. The Hot springs skits kind of always rub me the wrong way. On the one hand they're funny but on the other hand I hate miscommunication and I hate, hate, HATE innocent people getting blamed for others' actions. Legit, I was watching some competition with my mom about metalworkers and one of the competitions was a partnered build where two people teamed up to make one thing and one guy didn't understand the instructions so because he was unwilling to work with his partner who knew the instructions, the partner kind of withdrew into her shell and played it safe with her part of the build and she got booted out even though she was just trying to compromise and fit the prompt. That made me, like, unbelievably angry. I know it's a thing that happens in real life and you can't force people to believe anything but it always makes me mad, so seeing it in a narrative kind of upsets me. Lloyd getting blamed for Zelos's nonsense is shitty because the party should KNOW Zelos is the kind to do that and if they let Lloyd explain it would 1000% make sense. But somehow it hurts more when it happens to Emil because, like... Emil has had every opportunity before joining up with the group to lewd on Marta if he wanted to. And Marta's also forcing herself on Emil a ton. Marta is the one trying to
move the relationship forward. So even when she EXPLAINS, the fact that the rest of the party doesn't believe her is not only an example of the former trope of the innocent getting blamed for the lewd guy's behavior, but it's also blatant sexism because they don't even CONSIDER that Marta could be inappropriately doing things to or with Emil because she's a girl and therefore good and pure. I would have liked the trope MUCH better if they'd subverted it and actually believed Marta. On the plus side it made me respect Lloyd even if his advice was bullshit because, like... he gets it. He's been there. He's got your back even if no one else does, Emil. He's a dumbass but he's a bro, even if his advice of "what matters is that YOU know the truth" is bullshit. I also remember a skit from the original Symphonia implying that women are better with dealing with blood because they see it more often which, uh... it was funny when I was younger but now it just kind of makes Regal look dumb. Yeah, women get periods and often get shunted into the role of nurses and caretakers because they're raised to prioritize helping others but, uh... there's a BIG difference between a little blood on some cotton that you don't have to look at if you don't want to and your friend being carved open during battle. Like, man or woman, I don't care who you are, if you see blood and you fucking pass out? That's valid. I am extraordinarily okay with blood because my brain for whatever reason categorizes it as a "clean"/sterile fluid and I'm pretty familiar with wound care because I'm the defacto nurse in my house. I also took an anatomy and marine biology course in High School because I thought they were interesting subjects so I'm pretty comfortable with organs and stuff. But guess what? As okay as I am with blood, organs, and anatomy, the sound of bones crunching (specifically wet bones, cooked bones like in a fried chicken are a different sound) makes me cry and want to throw up. (Learned that the hard way in anatomy class, we had to use bone shears to clip off the cat cadaver's tail and I'm not sure if it was just the sound or the fact that some people seemed so non-chalant about it but it really upset me.) And when it's a family member or friend that's hurt, I panic. I can still function, because my fucked up neruodivergent brain just... does not process some things. But I legitimately panic and freeze up. Wound care for friends and relatives is fine, but a new injury just... instant panic fodder. My friend once burnt her hand on a curling iron and I freaked out. I was trying to remain as calm as possible, but seeing her hurt just... I was barely able to get her over to the sink to run her hand under cool water before running off and trying to explain to someone [we were at a gym at the time] that we needed an ice pack. My mom had a fall recently. Instant panic despite reassuring her everything would be fine. I was trying not to laugh because my brain was so focused on trying not to cry. Literally triggered IBS or something afterward because my body just... rejected food for the rest of that day. Not fun. Even my dad, who I don't care for, when he had a bout of vertigo (dizziness) and couldn't stand, I struggled to talk to the 911 operator and when they asked for his age as they loaded him into the ambulance, even though he GAVE me his ID expecting this, I just... froze up and could not articulate anything or even remember the ID until the paramedic explicitly asked me for it. Being okay with blood isn't, like, a strength or something. And it definitely doesn't make you any better equipped for the battlefield, which I think is what Regal was trying to get at. Like, yeah, feminism, women can be strong, but like... that has nothing to do with whether or not you can handle blood and everything to do with whether you can process people you care about being hurt. Could I keep my cool on the battlefield? Maybe. Do I want to test that theory ever? Hell the fuck no. That being said, any Skit with Colette in it is always good and I think one of my
favorite skits ever was Colette deciding that she and Richter were friends because even though he vowed to kill her, he was nice to her. Colette is too good and pure for the world and I love her and I have no idea why I didn't used to love her, she's literally perfect..
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Day 4: Secret Agent Thriller (Sorta)
Little less thriller...
“Be still and listen, nena.” Her mother had whispered just before the family gathering at Christmas. “We all know how smart you are, but your father wants to talk to his brothers. Why don’t you and I play a game while they talk?”
“A game?” Sofia asked, straightening at once under the suggestion. “What will it be, mama?”
“A noticing game,” her mother whispered. “We will be very quiet, like spies, and see what we notice. And then when they are all snoring, you will tell me all the things that you saw.”
Years later, Sofia would wonder for the first time if her mother had intended the game at all, or if she had just hoped it would keep her quiet. She liked to think it was her mother’s often-smothered sense of adventure and curiosity. That perhaps she had wanted to see just how keen her daughter was.
“Mama,” Sofia had whispered as she helped her mother clean dishes while half the men slept and the other half complained about the latest football game. “Do you want to know what I noticed?”
“Of course, nena.” Her mother whispered, an air of playful conspiracy about her. “What do you know?” “Uncle Phillip has fallen in love with someone,” She whispered, lifting a hand to her mouth. “And I think her name starts with an ‘N’. He pronounces them differently. More softly. He used to say them harder. And he touches his ring finger like he wants something there. I think he’ll be married soon.”
“Oh?” Said her mother. (Phillip would elope with Nina two weeks later) “Uncle Ernesto has ash on the bottoms of his shoes. He’s smoking again but doesn’t want anyone to know, so he’s been chewing that cinnamon gum, but he still steps out his cigarettes.”
(Aunt Amelia would throw her chancla at Uncle Ernesto when she found out, but they patched it up in the end.)
“And papa—”
“No unkind words about your papa I hope?” Her mother had asked, sounding suddenly anxious.
“No,” Sofia laughed. “Papa is afraid of me when I am quiet. He kept glancing over all night like he was wondering what I was thinking. What will he do when I am smarter than him?”
“I don’t know,” Her mother had said. “I really don’t.”
Years later, as Sofia unlocked the door to doscientos-veintiuno Panadero Street, she knew. Her father had sent her to school. Had funded two degrees and an insatiable hunger for knowledge. Had given her all he had to give and more.
And Sofia Humenez? She was going to make it worth every penny for him.
Armed with her official consultant position with the police, and her new license to practice as a private investigator, she set to her new life with the enthusiasm and fervor. First, she had to remake her home.
It was a beautiful building. Traditionally built, like the buildings in Tapalpa. White plaster and red border and wooden interiors. And her first task, as always in a new place, was learning about who had been there before. Becoming a spy in her own home. She paced around the empty rooms, her items in boxes at the door and the new furniture not yet arrived. She found scuff marks on the floor (repetitive, centralized, chairs at the dining room table, well used, adult weights from the depth of the scratches. Sloppy, but multiple chair scuffs indicated a family with a routine. Her own dining room back at home would have looked similarly if not for the wider, softer feet of her family’s dining room chairs.)
One of the rooms had two types of drywall. Damage at some point. Extensive. Deep dents in the carpet where the beds had been. In the two bedrooms. Hastily filled pinholes in the walls from posters. “Hm.” Said Sofia, and settled cross legged in the middle of the floor of what would be her room as she started to think through how she’d organize it. The house was perfect. Dull and boring on the surface, with all the small details of a normal life for her to uncover day after day. The soft scent of cigarette smoke lingering even over the scent of a heavy cleaning. And of course, the empty space, hers to remake. What little marks would her new life leave. She glanced over to the doorway of the open room beside her own. A second bedroom. She hadn’t decided yet what to do with it.
She built her room like a crime scene in reverse. Placed things where they ought to go as they arrived. Perhaps it wasn’t the most standard of rooms. Her dresser took up a little space, but the small closet became a three-walled bookshelf. She took the doors off it.
She added floating shelves around the room. Loaded them with the small curiosities she’d collected over the years. Her abuelita’s hand-stitched dolls (their careful lines had taught her so much about the movement of hands, the patience of a person at work, the dedication of a quiet woman) She had the standard small bone collection had its own shelf now, rather than being hidden from her mother in a desk drawer. Her anatomical model she set in the corner. Her tia had knitted him a scarf years ago that he still wore. She occasionally used it to map blood splatter on the floor, but her tia didn’t need to know that.
Slowly her home came together. And slowly the calls came in. She made herself an extra closet out of the hall closet, and filled it with her disguise pieces. It was simple enough. She was a plain woman, and with a little effort? No one gave her a second glance. She used it thoroughly to her advantage. A cleaning lady’s uniform, with small touches for the places she was infiltrating. A three piece suit with a pencil skirt and some carefully applied contouring changed her into an office worker. She had work boots, heels, waterproof galoshes, comfortable working woman shoes (a nurse in heels was a dead giveaway)... It was a thorough collection. The second bedroom stayed empty. First for the first week, and then for the second. Then for the first month, then for the second. She didn’t realize she was waiting for a partner until she met her. Dr. Watts caught her off guard. Which was unusual. People usually didn’t. But she was in her most invisible outfit. Hair tied back, thick and curly, sweat beaded on her brow. It helped the illusion to look a little smelly. She was mopping. No one ever questioned anyone mopping. “Excuse me,” the woman said, her accent starkly foreign though her spanish didn’t sound unpracticed. Sofia looked up at once. Took her in in a glance. A three piece suit as blatantly boring and store bought as Sofia’s costume was, but much more interesting on the woman wearing it. Her prosthetic leg was on display in the short skirt. Below the knee amputation. Sneakers. Not enough ankle articulation on the prosthesis to wear heels with her look, so she hadn’t bothered finding matching flats. Not someone used to three piece suits, but not shamed. Shoulders back, back straight. Blatantly foreign. She picked the accent apart and settled on british. As she thought, she was speaking. “Can I help you?” Sofia asked, careful to keep her accent thick, slurring the words just a little, blurring them together. Being hard to understand usually made foreigners give up. “I heard the victim in the attack last week was part of the cleaning staff,” The woman said. “They brought me in to ask some questions about the injuries, but I just…. Wanted to know how you were holding up, I suppose. It must have been traumatic for you all. And I can’t imagine they brought in another cleaning team to pick up the mess.” Sofia gaped. Flicked her eyes over the woman. Visitor badge, not a doctor in residence, but not untrained. Empathetic. No one had questioned the staff beyond looking for the guilty party. Gentle. Kind. Her eyes quick and dark and her smile cautious and concerned. The shocking display of humanity. Sofia struggled with things like that. Found the details compelling, understood the actions and motions, but if she had been a real janitor… “I’m on the case too,” Sofia said, straightening out of her character hunch and setting her mop aside so haphazardly it clattered to the floor. “You are marvelous. Will you confer with me?”
It was not the first impression she would have chosen to make, but it did to make an impression. Moreso when she pulled open the janitor’s clothing and pulled free her official badge. She was as certain as she’d ever been of any conclusion she’d drawn, though it had only been a moment. Though it was based on a prosthesis displayed and a show of kindness. Though it was before even she’d noticed the dirt under nails, and the shadow of tissues carried in her pocket. Before Dr. Watts had agreed to talk, but not before she’d checked in with the actual janitorial staff. “None of them did it,” said Sofia frankly. “The police are only investigating because they’re afraid of offending a doctor.” “I’m not looking for a culprit,” Dr. Watts had told her. “I just want to help.”
And Sofia knew. The two of them would be… A truly marvelous happenstance.
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lizabethstucker · 3 years
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Some of the Best from Tor.com 2019 Edition
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This was a free collection on Amazon at the time that I stumbled across it while browsing science fiction selections.  While I’ve always liked both Tor and Baen publications, I was amazed by how very much I enjoyed almost every short story and novella in this collection. Such high quality, and some authors that have been added to my TBR list.  4.5 out of 5.
CURRENTLY FREE ON AMAZON AS OF THE DATE OF THIS POSTING!
“Deriving Life” by Elizabeth Bear
Marq Tames is contemplating suicide or becoming a Host, unable to cope with being alone again after their spouse dies.  Tenants bring many benefits, including being pain-free, living a bit longer, making better decisions for themselves.  Unfortunately the Tenants ultimately consume their Hosts.  Unlike most potential Hosts, Marq is healthy.  Wow.  A really detailed look at grief, cancer, loneliness, and the choices we might make for happiness.  Intense.  Could be triggering for some who are themselves dealing with grief.  4.5 out of 5.
“For He Can Creep” by Siobhan Carroll
The Great Jeoffry the Cat helps keep the demons away from the humans in the madhouse.  His favorite is the Poet who is trying to finish the most important Poem for God.  If only his creditors would leave him alone, stop pushing for the satiric content he once wrote.  Then Satan himself comes to speak with Jeoffry.  Satan deems the Poem to be out of favor style-wise, and not very good.  He wishes to have the Poet write him a poem, one that will drive religion out of the minds of the masses.  To do that, he needs to speak with the Poet without Jeoffry’s interference.  It is, as they say, a devil’s bargain.  Jeoffry may, for the first time since kittenhood, lose.  He must consider and consult.  The fact that this is based on a real poem written by Christopher Smart, who was incarcerated in St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics, circa 1763, adds an extra layer of interest and curiosity to the story.  Needless to say, I spent the evening researching the poet online.  3.5 out of 5.
“Beyond the El” by John Chu
Connor struggles to recreate his late mother's dumplings, never quite reaching that bit of perfection. He really doesn't need the stress of his cold abusive sister back in his life.  Although maybe he does.  Very low key.  The relationship between Nick and Connor was more interesting to me.  As to the use of magic to prepare foods, was it really necessary?  3 out of 5.
“Zeitgeber” by Greg Egan
Sam is searching for why his daughter Emma's sleep patterns are suddenly and radically off phase.  It isn't long until this issue with sleep cycles begin spreading throughout the world.  At first it was just puzzling and annoying.  Now there are more and more accidents and deaths.  Life moves on, people adjusting as best it can, with cures both fake and possible appearing.  
Truly fantastic tale.  Scary as well, especially considering how we are waiting for a cure for COVID-19 with trepidation and distrust of the very organizations, such as the CDC and FDA, that are supposed to protect us.  Add on top the discussion of just how much conformity society demands of us.  4 out of 5.
“One/Zero” by Kathleen Ann Gorrnan
The war made its way to Vida Zilan's home in Kurdistan, ending with her parents, aunt, and grandmother dead.  Now Vida is on the run with her three year old brother, traveling with other terrified and displaced children.  Mai Davidson has retired in Washington D.C. after years of helping with various issues through the agency she had given her life to, until her husband died and she began to look for something different.  Her life is becoming increasingly regulated as the AIs begin taking control of medicine and senior care and transportation, among other things.  Or are the SIs, the rumored super intelligent computers now moving out into the world?  Be careful what you wish for has always been what is said in regards to those who can grant wishes.  Perhaps with the right teachers, the right guides, the SIs can help fix the world for the children, with the assistance of the children.  If only, if only.  Magnificent look at how Hal might not be the villain of the piece.  After all, he just wanted to save both himself and his astronaut charges.  4.5 out of 5. 
“Skinner Box” by Carole Johnstone
A trip to Jupiter and back, scientists caught up in their personal cycle of pain and hatred, an engineer who brings some comfort and support.  And a Skinner box filled with nanites.  There are layers upon layers upon layers in this intense story of experimentation and conditioning, the cost of freedom and, ultimately, love.  In essence, there are three reveals.  The first was expected almost from the start.  The second was almost suspected after we met Boris.  But it was the third that, for me, saved the story from the coldness.  3.5 out of 5.
“The Song” by Erinn L. Kemper
The world is moving from beef to whale meat, expensive as it is, taking abandoned oil rigs and converting them to whale meat processing centers.  As the ecowarriors grow increasingly violent, killing those involved in killing the whales, the people on SeaRanch 18 are stranded without relief personnel.  One of the last new scientists to arrive is Suzanne who is staying the changes in communication patterns among the whales.  She tells Dan, a deep sea diver and welder, of attacks by the whales, how humpbacks and blues were congregating for the first time ever seen and apparently communicating.  Whales and dolphins are so very intelligent, yet humans think they can do whatever they want to them.  I don’t understand.  Needless to say, I was primed for this story.  I thought I was prepared, even hopeful.  But the ending was beyond tragic.  4 out of 5.
“Articulated Restraint” by Mary Robinette Kowal
(Lady Astronaut 1.5)  After an accident leads to a lunar rocket slammed into a space station and the airlock jammed, the moon’s astronauts must figure out how to rescue them before their air runs out.  First, they’ll need a plan of action and see if the plan can work on their mockup rocket.  They need a way to get them more oxygen and a way to get a life raft to the vehicle.  Complicating procedures is Ruby’s nasty ankle sprain, especially after she needs the foot restraint which requires her to twist her feet to get into position.  Something snaps, but she perseveres, unwilling to let her injury prevent the rescue of her friends.  In some ways this reminds me of old time science fiction, a neat adventure with threads of backstories I want to know more about, such as the Meteor and what’s going on back on Earth.  Luckily I discovered that this is part of a series, so there is a possibility of learning more.  Although I have a few other of Kowal’s works in my TBR pile (freebies back in the day), I hadn’t as yet read any of her works.  Definitely want to read more based on what I found here.  4.5 out of 5. 
“Painless” by Rich Larson
Mars is a child when he is first found by the men who have been searching for someone like him, a genetic mutation who cannot feel pain.  There’s an organism put inside his body, that can make him stronger and able to repair himself, even grow body parts back.  He is trained to be a soldier, a mercenary, a killer.  He yearns for freedom and someone to be his friend and family.  The story jumps a bit from present to past and back again. It took me a while to get into the author’s rhythm, but once I did it was well worth it.  I can see so many countries and organizations who would kill to have someone like Mars under their control.  Good read.  3.5 out of 5.
“Seonag and the Seawolves” by M. Evan MacGriogair
Seonag was considered strange almost from the moment she was born, but she still loved her homeland.  So much so that she hides when her parents make plans to sail to Canada, unable to afford the croft rent.  Once they leave her behind, Seonag goes to the town bard for help and advice.  She is told about the wolves that were driven out of Ireland.  He tells her to swim west until she can hear the wolves.  The advice is cruel, certain suicide.  Knowing all that, Seonag still decides to do so.  An old style story, a myth, a fable, a fairy tale.  A story about those who only want to belong, yet are different enough to be pushed to the sidelines.  Mystical and magical.  4 out of 5.
“Any Way the Wind Blows” by Seanan McGuire
The Cartography Corps explore and map the parallel universes in order to determine if any ever go missing at a future date.  In this Manhattan, they find an intact Flatiron building, but no killer pigeons in this universe, so win-win.  Then a group of locals ask to meet the Captain.  This should be a television series!  I’d watch each and every episode and cackle at the crew’s adventures.  The only thing I was disappointed by was the length.  It was too short.  4.5 out of 5.
“Blue Morphos in the Garden” by Lis Mitchell
Vivian does love Dash and Lily, their daughter, but she continues to refuse to marry him, unable to deal with what his family goes through upon death.  If she officially marries into the family, she will become a Karner in all ways.  When it appears that Viv may be dying, she will need to make a decision sooner than she had hoped.  Stay, but remain a terminal.  Marry and, once she dies, become something else.  Leave, with or without Dash and Lily.  There's a beauty to having one's death transform into something useful or beautiful or both.  Frankly, I don't understand Vivian's concerns about that.  4 out of 5.
“His Footsteps, Through Darkness and Light” by Mimi Mondal
Love comes in many forms, some never spoken out loud.  Binu had found a home and a job with the Majestic Oriental Circus.  He became a trapeze master, soon heading his own team.  He also continued playing Alladin in Shehzad Marid’s illusionist act.  He was happy and content.  Until he helped the wrong person.  There is so much hinted at and more left unsaid.  But it will always be known that Binu was a good man and a loyal friend.  Bittersweet, yet in that time and place, perhaps the happiest ending(?) one could hope for.  4 out of 5.
“Old Media” by Annalee Newitz
John was as free as he had ever been under his latest Master, a lady scientist who provided him franchise papers that granted him full rights within the city before she went into hiding.  Med, a fan of John's journal on Memeland, becomes his friend and roommate.  She is also a robot and professor, as well as the lady scientist's research partner in the project that caused the woman to flee.  John and Med try to navigate the idiosyncrasies of living among humans, both clueless and bigoted.  3.5 out of 5.
“More Real Than Him” by Silvia Park
Morgan Ito is working on her own robot, one that resembles her favorite actor who is currently doing his two years of military service.  This is the first story in the collection that I struggled with.  Frankly, it read like bad fanfiction, and I'm a fanfiction reader and writer.  I didn't like any characters except Stephen, but he was barely in the story.  I finally gave up, not caring what would happen to pretty much anyone.  DNF
“The Hundredth House Had No Walls” by Laurie Penny
The King of the country of Myth and Shadow is incredibly bored after five hundred years on the throne.  He does what any ruler does in his situation, he decides to travel incognito to the imaginary land of New York City.  There he runs into the Princess of Everywhere and Nowhere.  
I had a hard time at first dealing with random phrases, words, and letters made bold.  This was a strange story.  Once I got past the random bolds, I quite liked it.  Feminist overtones with a message about freedom and allowing each individual to write their own story.  3.5 out of 5.
“The Touches” by Brenda Peynado
Life is separated into clean and dirty.  Clean was living virtually, locked into a tiny cubicle from birth, cared for by an assigned robot, and hooked up to an all-encompassing system for hours at a time.  Dirty is the real world, filled with plagues and viruses and what the narrator calls filth.  Things get more complicated as robots glitch, an accident puts the narrator into quarantine, and a phone number leads to something scary.  There's a layer of disconnection due to a lack of physical contact that cannot be fulfilled by robot hugs and virtual touches.  Add to that the narrator's extreme fear of the dirty world.  She actually has counted the number of real physical touches in her life.  Very intense, more so during our current Pandemic and the separation of friends and family.  Also extremely weird.  I don't know what to say about this one, but I suspect it will linger in my memory for quite a while.  3.5 out of 5.
“Knowledgeable Creatures” by Christopher Rowe
Investigative dog Connolly Marsh is hired by human Professor Thomasina Swallow after she kills a coworker who was threatening blackmail.  Things become increasingly screwy.  The body is missing, the learned mouse who is also Sparrow's adopted father believes historical research into the history of knowledgeable creatures and humans shouldn't be forbidden, and Marsh can't make himself leave the case alone.  Huh.  Another strange story with a lot of dangling threads left behind and even more questions.  Yet this isn't a set-up for a longer story or even a series.  It is complete within itself, with a somewhat sad ending for one character.  Intriguing, almost a noir type of story.  Fantasy with just a touch of science fiction.  3 out of 5. 
“Blood is Another Word for Hunger” by Rivers Solomon
Anger boiled in the heart of fifteen year old slave, Sully.  When she heard that her master had been killed during a battle, she drugged all five of his family members, slicing their throats.  Her actions cause a rift in the etherworld, drawing Ziza to her.  Sully is a product of her life, the cruelty of her upbringing.  She may also hark back to a creature from the country of her ancestors.  Sully shouldn’t be a sympathetic character, but she is.  I wanted her to find, if not happiness, at least a form of peach.  And maybe she will with her revenants, especially Ziza.  Be aware that this isn’t an easy read by any means, but I found it surprisingly satisfying.  4.5 out of 5.
“The Last Voyage of Shidbladnir” by Karin Tidbeck
Saga learns the ship she serves on is a living creature who is outgrowing her shell of a high-rise building.  Saga and Novik, the engineer, are determined to save Skidbladnir from being sold for meat.  She needs a new shell, so they'll find her a new shell.  This gripped me the moment I realized Skidbladnir was alive.  I'm a sucker for stories like this.  So enchanting.  I wish it had been longer or had a sequel, but that is just me being greedy and not wanting to leave Saga, Novik, and Skidbladnir behind.  Lovely from start to finish.  4.5 out of 5. 
“Circus Girl, the Hunter, and Mirror Boy” by JY Yang
Lynette first saw Mirror Boy the night she was almost killed after fighting off a rapist when she was barely 16 years old.  After she survived, Lynette found a friend to unload her pain, her disappointments, and her dreams to the boy who appeared in place of her own reflection.  Once she left the circus she had grown up in and worked for, Lynette had never seen him again.  Until now.  The boy is worried that a serial killer is after her.  A perfect story for the month of October, with a wraith, a witch, and a supernatural hunter who made assumptions that led to so many innocent deaths.  An ending that, while I guess it might be coming, was also so satisfying.  4 out of 5
“Water:  A History by K. J. Kabza
The surveyors badly judged how compatible the colony of Isla would be for the humans who left Earth on a one-way trip there.  The colonists adjusted, but being outside too long led to cancer deaths during the early years.  Marie, in her 50s, is now the last person who has direct memories of Earth.  She has been extraordinarily lucky in that her frequent trips outside hadn’t led to an early death.  A younger colonist, born on Isla, longs to go outside as well.  She wants to smell the planet’s dirt and feel the breeze on her face.  Lian finds a friend and support in Marie.  But no one can expect the good times will last forever.  Deeply emotional and tragic, yet somewhat hopeful as well.  Yet the story needed more depth, more content.  Good, but not as good as many of the others in this collection, in my opinion.  3 out of 5.
“As the Last I May Know” by S. L. Huang
Nyma was just ten years old when she was selected to be the Carrier.  In order to impress the consequences of using seres on another country, the Order choses to hide the codes in the body of a child.  To obtain access, the President must personally kill the child Carrier and rip her heart open.  AS the enemy forces draw ever deeper into the country, Nyma waits.  Oh, this one was gut-wrenching.  Seriously gut-wrenching.  And yet, the logic behind the Order's idea was extremely logical.  Force the President to basically live with the child he must kill to get access to the seres that will kill millions, make it real.  And Otto Han is disgusted by the Order, but it is what it is.  Again, the idea makes sense, but that doesn't mean that it isn't horrifying.  Not to mention torturous for the child who must live with the idea that they can be killed at almost anytime in order to kill millions of other people.  4.5 out of 5.    
“The Time Invariance of Snow” by E. Lily Yu
When the Devil's mirror splinters, it enters the hearts and minds of mankind, spreading hate and violence despair and depression.  G and K are in love, but G is wary of the violence of men.  When K makes a comment on how he would kill her, she protests his cruelty.  He leaves.  Despite knowing how the story will end, G goes on a quest to save him from the Snow Queen.  
A subversion of fairy tales and a treatise on both them and the treatment of women.  I have to admit that I was annoyed by the use of footnotes in this fictional short story.  I barely tolerate them in non-fiction books.  That said, as I struggled on, once G and K came onto the scene it became an easier read.  I think I would've enjoyed this more if it had been expanded.  My least favorite in the collection, but still worth reading.  3 out of 5.
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