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magsthemagnanimous · 3 years

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Boy it’s been a while since I’ve written a Levihan fanfic (or any fanfic in general) so this is a little shitty. But here goes nothing.

And They Lived

Summary: Against all odds, despite the seemingly unending chaos, Hange Zoe, the fourteenth commander of the Survey Corps, survived. It wasn't long until she found herself living the life she thought she would never have – with one specific person, at one specific place, three years after the war ended.

Mornings never usually thrilled Hange, but as she continuously strolled through the woods, her footsteps leaving little crackles as dried leaves crumbled under her boots, she felt peace she hadn’t had in a long, long time.

The light from the early morning sun filtered through the trees, the air was crisp and fresh and it felt good when it brushed against her skin. When she looked around she could see wildflowers growing in every direction. The entire forest seemed to be a place full of vigor and life – and even hope, and it’s as if it was never a witness to the war that happened almost three years ago, which rendered the world almost completely uninhabitable for the remaining twenty percent of humanity who survived.

Thinking about the war, and even the years before that was almost too much to bear, Hange thought. She lost friends, comrades, family, and if she was being honest with herself she thought it almost possible for her to die, too. She had accepted her fate, resigned to her own death the minute she heard the colossal titans’ footsteps shaking the ground as they walked closer and closer to where she and the alliance were standing in.

But even amidst the chaos and the impossibility of it all, she survived. And to go on living and to finally live the life she wasn’t able to have, it was all that remained for her to accomplish.

Hange took a deep breath and continued her stroll, getting nearer to her destination – her home for the last two years. The basket she had on her hands was heavy but she figured that if she bought more goods from the market today, then she wouldn’t have to go back for the next five days or so, as going to the nearest district to buy necessities was too much of a hassle to do every other day, anyway.

It wasn’t long until she reached the little cottage she called home, and even before she reached it she could already see someone stirring inside from beneath the windows the cottage offered.

He’s awake. She’s kind of hoping he saw her note that she has gone out to the market that morning, as she did leave before the sun was up. He was still sleeping soundly – a rare occurrence, given his state – so she didn’t feel the need to wake him up.

Hange sped up her pace and soon enough she was inside the cottage already, dragging her heavy basket effortlessly and beaming at the face that greeted her when she entered.

“Good morning, Levi! Did you sleep well?” she greeted. Hange walked towards the kitchen counter and dropped the goods she had bought. A variety of vegetables, fruits, meat, and bread tumbled on the table.

“You were gone long, Shitty Glasses,” was Levi’s blunt reply. He rolled his wheelchair across the kitchen, getting to where Hange was messily stacking the foods she had bought. Levi clicked his tongue at the way she was keeping the fruits from falling over the pantry but was miserably failing. “The way you’re going at it, these fruits wouldn’t even last until tomorrow. They’ve got bruises all over thanks to you.” He bent forward and grabbed the oranges which were splayed on the floor, groaning as he did so.

Hange quickly stopped him and grabbed the fruits from his arms. “Don’t bother yourself with this, I can do it on my own. Chill over there, okay?” she pointed to the table. “Have you had breakfast?”

“I am not a child for you to fuss over, Hange.”

She grinned. “I would take that as a no. What do you want, tiny captain?”

Levi stared at her for a moment with a scowl on his face, but after a few seconds he turned his head to the side and pouted. “Fine. Just some bread and eggs. That is, if we have them.”

Hange smiled at him and went on to do the task. She cut a few slices of the bread she had bought, and put them on the pan to toast a little, doing the eggs next. She then prepared some black tea and poured it onto Levi’s favorite cup, the chipped, old thing she had saved from when she visited the headquarters – or rather what’s left of it – after her recovery.

Placing the plates and the cup onto the table, Hange noticed that Levi had busied himself with reading the newspaper she had bought as well from the market. Across the page she could see Her Majesty’s smiling face, along with her toddler and the nameless farmer who fathered her child.

“It says here that the brats have been appointed as diplomats, ambassadors of sorts, for peace talks between the outside world and Paradis,” Levi declared, then took a sip of his tea. His right eye flickered towards Hange to gauge her reaction to his words, then looked back at the paper before him.

Hange hummed. “I should say I’m not in the least bit surprised. They saved the world, after all. If there’s anyone who could broker peace between the Eldians and the world it is them,”

“And you,” Levi fixed her on his gaze.

She looked straight into him in return. “You more than me,” Hange said. “But it’s not our fight, not anymore. I wanted to, you know. To be among those people to put this world back into one piece, but I’m afraid the world would never listen to a useless commander,” she huffed out a chuckle at that.

Levi frowned, his brows furrowed at her words. “You did what you can. Stop saying you were a useless commander, Hange.” He sighed, he didn’t want to go over this matter again. He’s grown tired of it. “Do you think it’s wise to leave the fate of Paradis to the brats’ hands? Are they matured enough to handle it?”

Hange gave him a teasing smile. “You sound like a worried grandpa,”

He scowled at that. “It’s going to be a difficult task, especially after all they’ve been through.” For a moment, there was a look of longing on his face, like he was lost in the memories of smoke, blood, and tears, but it was gone before Hange noticed it. Levi spoke again. “They need you there, Hange.”

Hange had to look down at that. When she looked up, she saw Levi carefully analyzing her next reaction. She adjusted her glasses, checked if her eye patch was still in place, and then softly smiled. “But you need me more.”

Two years living in this forest had sure enough afforded Levi all the time in the world to heal and recover.

But he had to admit it to himself, he’s never the same as before. He had been in the goddamned wheelchair for basically three years, with only one eye working, and a constantly weakened bodily state. But even if he seemed paralyzed and most decidedly living like a broken man, he can swear he had never felt this peaceful in his life. Not even during his time as soldier, not even when he was a kid underground.

As he wheeled himself across the woods, carefully following the trails all too familiar in his mind, Levi thought back of the conversation he had with Hange earlier that morning. He had lost count of the number of times he’d spoken about her being an asset with peace negotiations with nations outside Paradis. He never thought Hange would step out like she did, leaving her post as commander and entrusting the Corps and the negotiations to Armin, being a person keen to her responsibilities as she had always been.

But she chose to stay with him, to care for him, for reasons he didn’t fathom why.

Levi dimly remembered that fateful day in Odiha, when he’d thought her already dead. Even if he didn’t look out the window to see it for himself, he could tell exactly that what he’d been dreading has happened, based on the looks of Armin, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean, and they’d declared that Hange fell onto the ground, already looking unconscious. The titans were fast approaching, but their plane won’t start just yet. Fortunately, Hange was able to take down one colossal titan, and this bought them much time as the other titans tumbled over one another.

Suddenly, when the engines of the plane started to roar and the Alliance prepared to leave, Armin cried out loud, and they saw Hange limping towards them, her brown hair and almost half her body burnt and smoking. They hurriedly took her in, and they left Odiha just mere moments before the titans were upon them.

The rest, of course, was history.

A year after the war ended and she was recovered enough, Hange renounced her title as commander and travelled back to Paradis with a severely injured Levi. She had a cottage built for them right in the middle of the forest where she’d sown his wounds all those years ago, fulfilling a wish – which, now that he thought about it, seemed more like a promise than mere wishful thinking.

This time around though, they wouldn’t need to run and hide. Not anymore.

Levi’s train of thoughts was interrupted when he’d realized where he’s at. He’s come upon a wide clearing, and from a distance he could see lots of and lots of wildflowers and herbs which grew in the area, some he’d seen, and some new to his eye. He wandered around and decided to pick up one specific flower which he hadn’t chanced upon seeing before.

He wheeled himself back to their cottage not long after, following the trails he’d set.

When he came back, Levi found Hange sitting in front of her desk at her makeshift study, scribbling something. Ever since they settled in, Hange had been writing this book, a compilation of her researches on the botany of Paradis, which she hoped would be published someday.

Hange looked up from her work when she noticed Levi at the doorway. She adjusted her glasses, which were already dangling at the tip of her nose. “How was the stroll?” she bluntly asked, then continued scribbling again.

Levi didn’t answer. Instead, he wheeled his way to where Hange was sitting, and dropped the flower he’d picked from the clearing. He wasn’t sure if she’d seen it before, but any help he could offer with her research had been accepted by Hange. Wholeheartedly, even.

This one was no different.

“Where did you find this? I haven’t seen one like this before.” Hange beamed as she brought the red, almost pinkish flower close to her face, carefully investigating, curiosity marred on her brown eye.

“In the clearing, probably thirty yards away from here.” Levi continued gazing at her. She was like a kid beaming at another new find, and somehow seeing Hange like this brought him back to the old times. “You sure it’s something new?”

“Yeah, but I’d need to take a closer look. It might be from an already existing species, but it has a different look to it. The pigmentation and structure, though, are quite the same. I think I’d like to visit the place where you got this to see the kind of environment it grows in to prove my theory right, but that’s a task for tomorrow as it is getting quite dark, after all.” Hange smiled at him, and he felt how genuine it is. “Thank you, Levi. Do you need help with anything? Do you need a glass of water? You must be tired from your stroll.”

“There’s no need for you to bother yourself, Hange. I got it.” was Levi’s only reply.

The stars were beautiful that night, Hange concluded, as she continuously gazed at the dark skies out through the window of her study. The wind was cold to the touch, and she wrapped her arms around her own body when a sudden chilly breeze fanned her way. She continuously marvelled at the sight before her, her research book long forgotten. On her desk, a quill pen rested on a parchment paper, and the candle which lighted the room already half-melted, its fire threatening to die out.

It wasn’t long after she decided to call it a night, though, no matter how beautiful the stars were, she was tired. Hange stacked the papers on her desk, neatly arranging them, then went out of her study. Before making her way to her own bedroom, she made sure that all the doors that would lead out were locked, as there’d been reports of burglars lately, and she wouldn’t risk waking up with all their belongings gone.

When she was sure everything was already in place, Hange made for her bedroom, but she couldn’t help but notice that the door to Levi’s room was slightly ajar, and she attempted to close it.

It was then, though, when she’d heard Levi groaning and muttering softly. Hange was hesitant at first but she pushed the door open, only to see Levi, seemingly sleeping, but he was stirring aggressively on the bed. At the sight, Hange hurriedly went inside the room and went to his side. “Levi,” she yanked him.

He continuously groaned, and Hange was almost hit when he pushed his fists forward.

“Levi, wake up, you’re having a nightmare!” she desperately called out to him, eager to ease whatever unpleasant memories have gotten into his sleep.

At the sound of her voice, Levi’s eye opened, grey meeting brown against the darkness of the room. Levi panted heavily, and sweat matted his forehead.

“I’m here, don’t worry. We’re safe, they’re gone,” Hange reached out and hesitantly cupped his face between her hands. She didn’t know what his nightmare was about or who this time, but she understood. It wasn’t the first time it happened, anyway. Over the last two years she’d often hear Levi screaming in his sleep, and she’d scramble out of her own bed and go to wake him up and comfort him. She always did.

It took a while for Levi to calm down, but he eventually did. He pushed himself up to sit on the bed and Hange waited until he’s settled. He tried to avoid her gaze, choosing instead to simply look at the wall. Moments later, he spoke. “I’m sorry,”

“What for?”

“For waking you,”

Hange had to chuckle at that. “You didn’t. I was just about to sleep, got caught up in the flower you brought me today.” She tried to look into his eye, to search through him, but he was purposefully avoiding her gaze, now looking down on his own lap, as if guilty of her coming to rescue him from his nightmare, again.

She sighed. “I have them too, you know,”

That caused Levi to look up. “What are they about?”

“It’s always the same one. That day in Odiha when I almost died. I saw flames, and I can still feel them against my body. It’s as if I was reliving the moment, whenever I dream about it,” Hange shifted on her seat. Her right hand flew to touch her left arm, feeling the uneven skin there which was the effect of the burns she suffered. “And then the next thing I know, I’d fall onto the ground and when I opened my eyes I’d see our fallen comrades looking at me, as if they were disappointed at my actions being the commander.”

Levi gritted his teeth at that. “If anything, they’d be looking at you with pride, not disappointment, in my opinion.” He tried to reach his hand out and lay it over her hand, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. “Hange, you have to stop feeling guilty for the actions you took when you were the commander. You did everything you believed was right. And at the time, no one, not even Erwin, could have led a charge against a world which was all new to us. You don’t give enough credit to yourself when you should.”

Hange smiled bitterly at his words. “I know… I just… think things could have turned out differently, you know. The rumbling couldn’t have happened, we would’ve saved all those lives. If only I had a decent plan. If only we got a hold of Eren, then things would –“

“Stop it, Hange.” Levi muttered. “I want you to promise me you’d stop feeling guilty anymore. None of it was entirely your fault, it was just the cards we’ve been dealt with and we played them according to how we believed they should be treated.” He displayed a knowing look. “I think the reason why you don’t want to be involved with peace negotiations is because you still think you aren’t capable. You still lacked the confidence. But bear in mind that none of us would still be alive if it weren’t for you forming the alliance and buying us time from those titans that day. So please, Hange, please.” He sighed. “Promise me,”

“I do think that has been the longest speech you’ve ever said to me, Levi,” Hange laughed, then her face grew serious. She contemplated his words, there was already a part of her that wanted to believe every word he’d said, but it would take time for her to fully accept. She still appreciated it though, what he was doing. She reached out to place her hand above his own. “I cannot promise anything, Levi. But… I will try.”

Levi nodded at her, resigning completely.

“What about you, what are your nightmares about?”

He was hesitant at first, but he squinted and started to speak. “Not being able to kill Zeke. It was always about the many fights we had together, but mostly on the one during the rumbling. Sometimes it’s about those many expeditions beyond the walls that we had before.” Levi let out a breath. “It’s a mix, really.”

“I see,” she hummed. “I still hope one day those nightmares would not hunt our sleep anymore. Anyone could wish. But I’ve started to think that they’re part of us already.”

“I’m afraid that’s true.”

Hange started to get up. “Well it’s getting pretty late, and we’ve got a big day tomorrow. Onyankopon had mentioned that they’d be paying us a visit, together with Armin, Jean, and Connie, and I don’t know who else, and we’d better look like we’ve been getting decent rest here, lest they insist for us to take residence in one of the districts.” She chuckled at that. “I’d rather the two of us just stay here.” Hange turned her back to leave. “Good night, Levi.”

“Hange,”

She looked over her shoulder and eyed him, carefully analyzing his face. “Yes?”

“Stay,”

Hange took a deep breath, then slowly turned to face him once again. It was one word, just one word she’d spent the last two years waiting for him to say.

She’d be damned if she said no to what he wanted.

#hanji zoe #hange zoe #levihan #levi ackerman #levihan fanfiction #levi x hanji #levihan fanfic #BEAR WITH ME #levihan canon

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lesbianrobin · 3 years

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hey guys it's me again back on my bullshit <3 wanna hear my theory about how tommy created king steve? warning it’s like 2800 words long okay let's go!

So, at first glance in S1, the Steve and Tommy dynamic seems somewhat obvious: King Steve and his loyal sidekick. This post is me arguing that the only reason we really have this perception is because Steve is the more attractive of the pair (no hate to Chester Rushing, he’s very cute, but. Joe Keery) and because Tommy himself encouraged it. Tommy was actually the more “dominant” partner in the duo. I believe that it was Tommy who encouraged Steve to lean into the “King Steve” persona and who encouraged belief in this persona among their classmates, all for his own benefit.

Before we can really get into it, I have to establish something about Steve’s character, specifically that he bases his self-worth and self-image almost entirely on what others say and think about him. I’m basing this assumption off of a few key moments in the series, but I don’t want this to be insanely long so I’ll try to focus on season two where this trait is most evident.

At the Halloween party, Nancy tells Steve that they killed Barb and that their “love” is bullshit, and then later outside of the gym she insists that he isn’t being fair or reasonable in his anger with her. The next day Steve shows up to her house with roses, rehearsing an apology (”I’m sorry... what am I sorry for?) even though he doesn’t feel that he’s done anything wrong. That’s important: apologizing even though he doesn’t actually believe or understand his feelings and actions to be wrong. He’s trusting Nancy’s perception that he’s been unreasonable above his own hurt feelings and his own perception that he’s done nothing he needs to apologize for. Then, at the end of the season, he tells Nancy that he may have been a shitty boyfriend, but he’s a pretty damn good babysitter.

Sometime between going to the Wheelers’ house with flowers to apologize and talking to Nancy at the Byers’, Steve did a pretty serious 180 from “What the hell am I sorry for, what did I even do wrong” to “I was a shitty boyfriend and you should go be with Jonathan.” The last time he interacted with Nancy was prior to the flower incident, so what happened to cause this shift in perspective? I’d like to suggest... that nothing happened!

See, Steve is on a pretty linear emotional path in S2 after the Halloween party. At first, he’s so upset that he can’t even look at Nancy, asking Jonathan to take her home. The next day he avoids her until she confronts him, at which point he’s rather confident in his own feelings that Nancy has hurt him and doesn’t love him like she should. As time goes on, though, he loses confidence in his feelings. He buys her flowers to apologize. He isn’t remotely angry with Nancy or Jonathan once they show up together and it’s pretty clear that something’s going on between them. Finally, he calls himself a shitty boyfriend. I think that the more time passes, the less Steve believes in himself, and the more he tends to default to believing others despite his own feelings. As the anger fades, he questions himself, and since he loves and trusts Nancy, he’s inclined to believe her! Since she doesn’t love him, he must have done something wrong. Because Nancy doesn’t love him, because she wants Jonathan, because their relationship was “bullshit,” he now believes he must have been a shitty boyfriend.

Sidenote, in S3 he says a lot of shit about how he’s a loser with no future, and the way he says it indicates (to me) that it’s something he hears quite often, likely from his father. Even though it’s pretty normal to be working minimum wage the summer after you graduate high school and not have things figured out yet, even though he’s literally helped save his friends’ lives, perhaps even helped save the whole town, Steve has internalized the idea that he’s a total failure at the ripe old age of 18 (19?) and I can’t help but think that it’s because his father has told him. So. Also in S3, he says his hair is his greatest feature, and apparently people literally call him Steve “the Hair” Harrington so like, maybe he just knows he has really good hair, but he ALSO might be responding to the nickname by saying like, “Oh, okay, the hair is Objectively my best feature, okay.” Just a little bit of speculation!

I know this is a lot of my own personal opinions and speculation, but if you can get behind it, let’s keep going! If Steve is someone whose every belief about himself is a direct response to the words and feelings of those around him, if he places the opinions of others above his own feelings, it would logically follow that he might be easily emotionally manipulated.

So, let’s apply this lens to his friendship with Tommy!

Let’s run down the list. Steve cleans up after Tommy, making excuses for his shitty behavior, even wordlessly giving Carol his own food at lunch after Tommy ruined hers. He allows Tommy and Carol to have sex in his mom’s bed, and as indicated by their familiarity with the bedroom and knowledge of where the spare sheets are, this is a regular occurrence. He’s also always seen driving the two of them around.

Neither Tommy nor Carol is ever really seen doing anything kind for Steve. They tease his girlfriend, then later use his heartbreak as an excuse to graffiti some shit and make cruel jokes about Nancy and Jonathan. That’s just not the behavior of a couple hangers-on to the most popular kid in school! Neither of them ever even pretend to give a shit about Steve. It seems that Tommy and Carol were very comfortable using Steve for his big empty house and his nice car and his popularity at school because they’d been using him for years at that point, and they thought there was no way he’d ever ditch them.

I think it’s generally accepted among fans that Steve and Tommy have been close friends for years. Tommy’s familiar with Steve’s father’s infidelity, and is comfortable enough to joke and laugh about it with Steve. The two of them just... operate like people who’ve existed around each other for a long time. So, if we accept that Steve and Tommy have been friends for awhile, we can then accept three things: the two of them know each other very well, Tommy is used to having fun at Steve’s expense, and Steve is used to allowing it.

When Steve does finally stand up to Tommy and Carol, Tommy turns on him immediately. It’s an incredibly fast turn. He shoves Steve up against his car, physically threatens him, and proceeds to taunt him angrily even as he’s driving away. Specifically he yells, “That’s it, run away Stevie boy, run away! Just like you always do,” and continues to shout variations on this phrase even after Steve’s driven far enough that Tommy’s only yelling to himself. The fact that Tommy keeps shouting after Steve can’t hear him indicates that he is genuinely very upset by Steve’s standing up against him and Carol. His fury, however, as indicated by the speed with which he turned on Steve, seems to be less like that of one who feels betrayed by a friend and more like one angry at some perceived loss or threat.

Now, let me just state the obvious: that was a really weird thing for Tommy to be yelling!

There’s no real precedent at this point (or any time) in the show for Steve “running away,” unless you count him running from the cops, which... Tommy also did, and which also happened, like, ten minutes ago, which I don’t think would really qualify for the wording “like you always do.” Tommy also suddenly calls him “Stevie boy,” which (correct me if I’m wrong) nobody has called Steve thus far. Maybe he’s just trying to mock and belittle Steve in any way he can think of, but it’s just... weirdly specific. The whole thing is a bit of a non-sequitur.

But! Remember how we established that Steve and Tommy, by virtue of having been friends for a significant period of time, know each other pretty well? Remember how Tommy is knowledgeable about Steve’s father’s infidelity, so familiar that he’s comfortable joking about it? Keep that in mind.

This phrase that Tommy shouts at Steve only makes sense in the context of some offscreen information that we the viewer are not privy to, but which Tommy and Steve are. What might that information be? Nothing in the show indicates that Steve has a history of picking fights prior to the incident with Jonathan. He’s a fairly respectable suburban kid, what is Tommy accusing him of running from? It’s my opinion that the only logical answer is that Tommy’s referencing a specific event with Steve’s “asshole” father, or a specific phrase that Steve has perhaps often heard from his father. I’m gonna ask you to sit on this assumption for a minute, and I’ll come back and support it soon.

Okay, so that’s S1 out of the way. At this point, a few things are clear: Steve has issues with his dad. Tommy knows about those issues. Steve allowed himself to be used by Tommy and Carol for some indeterminate yet significant amount of time before finally snapping and dumping them completely, something which infuriates Tommy.

Tommy is also in S2! And... all he does is tell Steve that Nancy and Jonathan are skipping school together. He never actually interacts with Nancy or Jonathan; he shows up in S2 entirely to mock Steve, to use his deepest fears and insecurities against him.

First thing: in the S2 shower scene after basketball practice, Tommy makes it a point to shove Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship in Steve’s face. Billy doesn’t know Steve, so he attacks his basketball skills and his keg stand record, but Tommy? Tommy knows about Steve’s dad cheating on his mom, he was there for the S1 fistfight, he knows how monumental infidelity is to Steve, especially in the case of Nancy and Jonathan, and so that is what he chooses to torment Steve with, and it clearly strikes a nerve.

Now’s where I circle back to my assertion that Tommy was referencing/quoting Steve’s father while yelling at him back in S1. S2 makes it clear that Tommy knows Steve’s biggest insecurities, and he intentionally exploits them for his own purposes. This, combined with the way Tommy demonstrates intimate knowledge of Steve’s family situation and the fact that his words just don’t quite make sense in context, the fact that “Stevie boy” sounds like something a father may call his young son, makes me believe that at some point, Steve told Tommy about something his dad said that hurt him, and Tommy remembered that to use against him later.

This paragraph is just speculation on what Tommy might be referring to, so skip if you want, it’s entirely my own opinion. We know that Steve’s parents sleep in separate bedrooms and his father can’t be trusted not to cheat, and thus we might assume that they argue a lot. Maybe his parents get into lots of arguments, and whenever Steve chooses to remove himself from the situation, he’s accused of running away. Maybe Steve runs off whenever he gets in trouble with his father. There’s a lot of possibilities, but either way, “run away, Stevie boy, run away just like you always do” just... sounds too personal and specific to be something random and meaningless that Tommy came up with on the spot.

Now, in S2, Tommy also appears to have latched onto Billy rather quickly after Billy’s arrival in town. Coincidentally, Billy is kind of obsessed with Steve and taking him down, despite the fact that Steve never sought him out or challenged him in any way. Steve has been minding his own business! When they later end up in a fistfight, Billy says that he’s “been dying to meet this King Steve” that people have been telling him about, and I can’t help but think... who would make it their priority to talk to Billy about Steve Harrington? Like, new guy from California moves to my small Indiana town, I don’t want to tell him about some popular guy at school who’s gotten kinda lame and quiet lately, I want to ask him about himself, or tell him what we do for fun around here, right? So who might be incentivized to talk Steve up to a guy who’s clearly itching for a fight, a guy dying to prove that he’s top dog? Who did we see hanging out with Billy a couple of times?

Did you say Tommy? Because it’s Tommy! It certainly seems to me as though Tommy saw an opportunity in Billy. The opportunity to befriend someone with a certain social power (much like with Steve), but also the opportunity to torment or get back at Steve in some way. I think that Tommy intentionally inflated the character of “King Steve” to Billy in the hopes that Billy would pick a fight with Steve and Steve would get his ass kicked without Tommy having to get his hands dirty.

Which makes me wonder... what if Tommy played up that King Steve image to people besides Billy? Other kids at Hawkins High... or perhaps Steve himself. Remember how Steve internalizes things? Believes that he must be whatever others see in him? Yeah.

Let’s say you’re an asshole teenage boy who wants it all. You want to be popular. You want to have a spot to hang out with your girlfriend with no parents around. You want to feel strong and powerful. You meet a kid who could give you all of that, and all he wants in return is friendship. He doesn’t even seem to care if that friendship is genuine or not! All you have to do is hang around and make him feel like a cool kid. Convince him to throw a small party, you and your girlfriend get free reign of his nice big house. Make sure he knows that he’s got Prom King potential, that he’s the top dog, and you get to be one of the popular guys, too. It’s a pretty sweet deal if you can recognize the opportunity for what it is.

One last thing: Actual Steve is nothing like he seems around Tommy and Carol in the start of S1. Making friends with Dustin and coming up with a goofy handshake, singing to cheer Robin up in S3, singing into the bat to try and cheer Nancy up in S1, holding her hand during their first time, unabashedly telling her she’s beautiful and that he missed her even if only an hour had passed... Steve is a very emotional, dorky guy, and we never really got to see that side of him when he was around Tommy. I just find that interesting in light of the fact that Steve and Tommy seem to be otherwise rather close. Steve was clearly playing a part to some degree while around them, and in S3 he explicitly says that he behaved the way he did in high school because he was concerned about what others would think of him, about losing his popularity. Even prior to their argument, Steve was wary around Tommy, concerned about losing his friendship despite the fact that Tommy was a pretty objectively shitty friend.

So, here’s what we know. Tommy knows a lot about Steve, including his private family issues, and he isn’t above using that knowledge to hurt or manipulate Steve. In fact, he seems to be really good at it. Tommy benefitted from Steve’s popularity, from him throwing parties and living up to the “King Steve” image. Steve followed Tommy’s lead in their friendship, cleaned up after him, made excuses for him, and let him get away with just about anything. He masked aspects of his personality that didn’t fit the image that he and Tommy aimed for. He was desperate to retain Tommy’s friendship and afraid of letting the mask fall. Tommy was furious when Steve rejected him, taunted Steve with deeply personal jabs, and a year later he latched onto the new “top dog” in town with record speed. Steve is a completely different person when he’s around Tommy versus when he’s around Nancy, Robin, and the kids. Most importantly, we know that Steve has a tendency to construct himself in the image provided by others.

Taking all of this into account, I think that Tommy Hagan met sad, rich, handsome little Steve Harrington, saw just how lonely and desperate he was to feel a sense of belonging, and used that to nudge Steve into striving to be the person that Tommy wanted him to be: King Steve.

#steve harrington #stranger things #this is. so fucking ungodly long skdncdnm #but at least five of you asked for it!!!#if i don't get at least five notes on this ur all fucking fake and i don't wanna hear it #em talks #lesbianrobin.canon

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duchessofferia · 3 years

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Remember that white woman, up till now unnamed, who I called out for mocking a brown historian with racially charged rhetoric? Well, they’ve been going around making vague insinuations about genocide apologia and complaining about being “called a Klan member,” and since they’ve blocked me I can’t respond directly to what they’re saying.

I feel like anybody who read my post can tell this is bunk right out the gate, but they haven’t directly responded to what I said, either, so plenty of people might think that they’ve been actually been accused of being a member of the KKK. For transparency’s sake, let’s clear that up.

Unless they’ve gotten some wayward anon that I’m not aware of, this is the phrase they’ve managed to stretch into unironically being called a whole ass member of the Ku Klux Klan. I’ve got no idea who this Jewish friend of theirs is, or what they have to do with a post that was very specifically about a single comment that they themself made, but here’s the sentence they’ve latched onto as the crux of their defense. In case it went over any heads, no, I wasn’t suggesting that they literally don a sheet every Saturday night to go burn crosses in the woods ala Birth of a Nation. My lil comment was very rude, definitely, I was not in any mood to be nice when I made it and I’m not shy about that, but it’s both deceptive of this woman to warp it into a narrative about some mouth foaming black reactionary telling them “you’re A REAL LIFE KKK member!!” and really entitled of her to act like she has any right to tell me when I can and can’t make comments about the group that’s been terrorizing my race for generations. That’s not a white person’s place to dictate.

“Maybe think about it before you throw that shit around!!!” Nope, sorry. Not gonna stop making klan jokes when pointing out racism online. Perhaps @staff can help? If they can’t, why don’t you think about why I’m the second person now to post about you being publicly offensive? Maybe, just maybe, it’s a you problem!

While on the topic of race, entitlement and insensitive white people, I should also address what they’ve chosen to describe as “talking about a shitty monarch.” “Talking about,” in this case, means “defending” - Gareth Russell’s words, not mine, his blog post is called Defending the Belgian Monarchy, a bit more subtle then the article itself, which is more bluntly titled Defending the Saxe Coburgs. That “shitty monarch” they’re so tamely referring to would be King Leopold II of Belgium and his successors, the royalty who orchestrated the Congo free state, a period of European history during which over ten million Congolese innocents were killed, raped and mutilated by Belgian colonialist forces.

Years ago, Russell, a white Anne Boleyn historian popular on this site, directed his followers to this article, describing it as “excellent.” The article expresses no interest in or horror at the genocide of the Congolese whatsoever - the Free State is described once as “unusually corrupt,” and that’s it. The author chooses instead to go on about the monster himself’s “complex, genuine romance” with a teenage girl, and relays an anecdote about one Belgian royal tourring the Congo in 1909, less than a year after the genocide ended, and regretting that the country failed to penalize adultery as if that were a virtuous statement.

Propagating a piece of media outright entitled “Defending The Saxe Coburgs,” referring to those members of that monarchy responsible for the genocide of over ten million black innocents is racist. Full fucking stop. It’s not a microaggression, it’s not an offhand comment, it’s not a minor occurrence that white people get to pick apart and “hmmmm” over to decide if it holds any weight, it is completely and utterly inexcusable behavior and this woman’s refusal to believe in the anti blackness inherent in defending someone who slaughtered millions of Africans is irrelevant. If you disagree and you’re black, I’d be happy to discuss it, publicly or privately. If you disagree and you’re white, kindly keep that to yourself. I’m not explaining this a third time.

(Also: Given that I’ve finally decided to post their url, I am running the risk that somebody takes this as permission to role up in their inbox, so I’m gonna go ahead and request that nobody bother them. It’s not conducive to argument or accountability and it’s not going to change their mind.)

#fandom racism #genocide tw #gareth russell #nathan amin #📀🐴

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Close Call

John (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: SPOILERS, Swearing, Near-death scene

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Colleagues John and Y/N are stranded in the ghost town of Little Hope with four of their students. Will the two manage to save their group from the horrors the town has to provide for them? Will they both live long enough to see the next day and maybe finally come clean to one another?

Requested by @artlovingbre Hello dear! Sorry to be posting your amazing request so late, hope it makes the wait worth it. I love John, he’s such a comfort character and he needs to be protected at all costs haha. Please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“Are you alright?“ Shiny eyes shed a concerned gaze on him while a warm hand hold his cheek, adjusting his head to a specific angle. “Try to open your eyes, John.“ She speaks in a soft voice, guiding him back to consciousness.

His eyelids lift ever so slightly, his foggy vision not doing the woman crouched in front of his slumped body justice. He can see the worry mixed with light fear on her features. Something about the look in her eyes tells him she’s seen something that mortified her. John’s gaze clears up when he focuses on that exact element of her gaze, the one suggesting she’s not doing as well as she’d like others to think. He almost chuckles to himself at how signature of a Y/N move that is.

Y/N Y/L/N, the Business and Management professor who has recently been transferred into their college. In her early thirties, she’s only had about ten years of teaching experience but she has easily become the most liked and professor on campus. Her attitude and her teaching are basically a formula for success one can’t deny. She’s earned herself this job with a lot of work, having come from a much smaller and less-known college where she taught a class of roughly twenty people, she had to teach many other classes as well, considering she also possesses great knowledge in Economics and English Literature. She’s continued to do so, being a substitute professor whenever an English Lit or ECON one couldn’t make it, while also tutoring on the side. She has worked hard to make it in the world of knowledge and John finds her incredibly inspiring.

He met her when he was looking for a professor to cover for him while he got through the final preparations of the school trip he was planning for a group of his students. She would’ve volunteered immediately, he’s definitely certain of that, but this time around he was actually directed to her by a fellow colleague. Seeing her for the first time felt like he was witnessing a phenomenon he’s heard many people talk about but no one was sure it existed. He had heard whispers about her all over campus, she was rather popular - she had come to the college and brought a breath of fresh air with her, getting the students wondering and making assumptions about her. She carried herself with such powerful confidence, it got everyone thinking she’d be a strict, no-nonsense, stuck-up professor who asked for too much while not giving the students enough.

Needless to say, they couldn’t have been more wrong.

John has never connected to a person so quickly and easily before. The new professor was certainly something the school needed but no one could suspect it’d be someone of her rank. Even he felt he was below her and he has been teaching for twice as long as she has. There’s something so appealing about her, makes him want to never stop talking to her - if circumstances allowed for such a thing, he’s certain neither of them would run out of things to say. They have plenty in common, a lot of stories to share and a lot of advice to give one another despite him being the more experienced professor.

“What the hell was that?“ He mutters, sitting up in a more upright position.

Y/N scoffs, “You tell me. That man, he looked just like you. And....there’s no explanation for this, is there?”

They’ve just witnessed John’s double’s execution. It was a real torture to be exposed to such a horrifying scene. The death in and of itself was disturbing, but one can only imagine how the entire situation is messing with their heads - especially Y/N’s. She’s a person of logic, she likes being in the know and fully understanding issues and problems. She can’t just accept this illogical occurrence that has been happening to them all night. It’s tiring her out and driving her mad. Matters are a lot worse when you don’t know why they are the way they are or how they came to be. Knowing she functions based on this principle, John can’t help but feel bad for not being able to help her. Hell, she’s doing all the helping around here, he’s the one who blacked out when they returned from that hellish trip back in time.

Their students are surrounding them, all looking on with worry and confusion as to what they saw. These trips back in time have become common in the past our or two, they no longer question it when it happens, instead they focus on what they see.

“None as of now, but...“ He starts speaking, looking for words of comfort which are cut short when a sudden noise comes from somewhere nearby, amongst the tall grass and bushes.

It sounds like a fast movement, quickly accompanied by a growl-like sound that is enough to freeze the two in their spot while their students each took a step back, getting further away from the possible danger up ahead. John and Y/N get up hand in hand, eyes glued onto the now visibly rustling grass from which emerges a gruesome creature straight from hell. It’s not their first run-in with a monstrosity like this one - they faced the chain-bound one going after Angela; the floating, long-tongued one with it’s target on Taylor and the spear bearing one in pursuit of Daniel.

This one is his. It’s finally his turn to spin the wheel of fortune and see how likely he is to survive.

His thoughts are racing, he can hear the thumping of blood in his ears. This is either gonna be his demise or a story to tell, the two options so far from one another, so surreal. They remind him how fragile his life is. How little it would take for him to be wiped off the face of the Earth, but how much effort he’d have to put in to save himself and the people he’s responsible of. Among them, a person he hasn’t been fully truthful with this whole time...

“GO IN THE HOUSE! NOW!“ Y/N’s voice grounds him, pulls him back to reality. She shakes his arm, yanking his attention to her, “John, we gotta move!“

The thought of one of these things even daring to get close to Y/N mortifies and angers him. He doesn’t want to run from these creatures, demons or whatever the fuck they may be. He’s done choosing flight.

“I’m sick and tired of allowing them the upper hand.“ He exclaims in frustration, looking around for something to use as a weapon. “Y/N, go inside. I’ll meet you there shortly.“

His words are insanity to her. She can’t even imagine leaving him behind as he’s suggesting, but she knows arguing would be futile. Instead, she backs away without as much as a word.

The demon starts approaching, this one’s movements a lot faster and more rapid in comparison to the rest they’d faced. John is aware he’ll need to stay razor sharp to even have a chance of survival, not that there’s much for him to do against an overpowered demon moving at that speed while all he has is the old sledgehammer he finds laying nearby.

He manages to get one good swing in, pushing the thing away, earning himself some time to put distance between him and the demon, but before he is able to do so, the thing is already charging at him and has him toppling to the ground, promising to seal his fate right here and now.

A sudden hit is delivered to the demon’s head with incredible force, giving John the freedom to stand up and look to see who his savior is as they go in for another swing with what looks to be a metal pipe.

It’s Y/N.

“Take that, you piece of shit!“ She yells, delivering another blow to the head.

John runs to her side, guiding her away by the arm now that the demon is far enough away. Adrenaline is pumping through the both of them, keeping them on their feet despite the shaking of their knees. They attempt to make a run for the house, but Y/N’s movements are hindered by the chain that wraps around her calf, yanking her back and onto the ground.

John wastes no time rushing to her aid, using the sledgehammer to free her from Angela’s demon’s grasp and pulls her to her feet. This time, the run to the house is successful. They make it inside, mildly harmed, out of breath and with rapid heartbeats. And with their lives, of course. Surprisingly, they made it in with all their limbs and their lives. That has to count for something.

“You suck at following instructions, don’t you?“ John asks Y/N after they briefly catch their breath.

She chuckles, holding the wrist she sprained when manning the heavy metal pipe as a weapon, “No, I just protect the people I care about. You should know what that’s like.” She bumps his shoulder with her, sending him a warm smile.

He sure knows what it’s like.

* * *

It’s all over. They are safe, back on campus. Shaken up, bruised and traumatized but alive and safe from any physical harm. For the mental torment they will be helped by professionals, friends and family. What matters is that they’re alive.

“Hey, um, I never got to thank you for saving my life back there.“ John hesitantly approaches Y/N once each student is picked up by someone from the school parking lot, presumably to be taken to a hospital. The two of them can’t go anywhere before they take responsibility for what happened.

Y/N grins at him, her tired eyes shining in the late morning sunshine. “I couldn’t leave my favorite colleague to die now, could I?” She laughs, placing a hand on his shoulder, “And thank you for saving my life.”

He returns her smile, covering her hand with his, “Couldn’t let you die on your first school trip, could I?”

She laughs again, shaking her head in what appears to be disappointment, “First and last. I bet I’m getting fired for this.” She looks down at her shoes, digging them into the pavement.

“Hey.“ He gives her hand a squeeze, grasping her attention causing her to look up at him and meet his warm gaze, “I won’t let that happen. I promise.“

Y/N sighs and nods, exhaustion radiating off of her, “Alright, I trust you. Let’s just get it over with, shall we?” She tilts her head towards the entrance of the school.

Ok John, now or never. Just spit it out

“Um, Y/N?“ He says her name questioningly, causing her to turn to fully face him, “Would you maybe want to head to lunch afterwards? I completely understand if you’d prefer to be alone, but if you want some company...“ He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, nervous as all hell. That’s really telling, considering they just escaped hell.

He resists the urge to close his eyes and cringe at how hesitant and awkward he sounds. Where is that bold side of him that wanted to fight a demon earlier?

“Sure, John. I’d love nothing more. Lord knows company is just what I need right now. I’d hate to be alone, I think I might lose it.“ Her response accompanied with a slightly shy chuckle sends an overwhelming wave of relief crashing down onto him, allowing him a sigh.

Sometimes, as John would learn, going through hell may be worth it when you consider the aftermath.

A chance with Y/N is his aftermath, and it just about makes the hell of Little Hope worth it. He’s yet to find out for certain though.

@sparrow-gg @megandaisy9

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lilith-lovett · 4 years

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Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Seventeen

Firstly, I want to apologise, it has been so long since I last posted an update for this story but life happens. I have now officially left high school - much earlier than I expected and not under the conditions I wanted - and I am preparing to go to University in September of this year. I want to continue and finish this story and I am thankful to those who have continued to support me despite the lack of regular updates but the next chapter is already in the work and I hope to get that finished soon. I need something to keep me occupied during this lockdown. Thank you for being so patient with me and I hope you continue to enjoy this story xx

Masterlist

Summary: Shopping trips (are stressful)

Word Count: 6557

Warnings: Past child abuse, disordered eating, anxiety, self-deprecation. (If I missed anything please let me know)

Logan awoke the following morning in a panic, unsure of where he was, until he noticed the soft toy tucked against his side he remembered. He was at Patton’s house, this is where he would be living for however long Patton allowed him to. He left the warmth and softness of his bed, collecting a set of clothes from his rucksack, his typical outfit, dressing and making his way to the bathroom in order to survey his appearance. Once determining it was satisfactory, he ventured downstairs. Patton was the only one awake, dressed in a overly large sweater and blue and white striped pyjama pants, humming a pretty tune as he prepared breakfast.

“Oh hiya kiddo, you’re up early,” Patton noted as he observed Logan hovering in the dining room. “I’m guessing you are a early bird?”.

“I believe in keeping to a strict schedule for optimal productivity, “Logan said not completely understanding the expression Patton had used.

“I wish Roman and Virgil thought the same, they are both night owls, staying up late, waking up even later. Though Virgil struggles the most,” Patton said his smile falling as he referenced Virgil, presumably Virgil’s sleeping habits which Logan assumed were poor from his dark under eyes circles and lack of energy. “Oh kiddo, what do you want for breakfast. We have plenty; pancakes, cereal, toast and crofters?”.

“Crofters?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, it is a brand of jam, the kids love it. Have you never had it before?” Patton said pausing in his preparations.

“No, I do not believe so but I do have a fondness for jam,” Logan said recalling the previous special occasions when Maggie would sneak him pots of sweet jam to add to his terribly bland breakfasts, in a variety of flavours though strawberry had always been his favourite.

“Do you want to try some?” Patton asked extending the jar of strawberry flavoured jelly out towards Logan, who took it, eyeing the sweet-smelling fruit spread curiously as Patton turned once again returning with a spoon. “Here,”.

“You want me to eat it with a spoon…from the jar?” Logan questioned he would have never been allowed to indulge quite like this at the orphanage.

“Yup, it is the only proper way to eat crofters,” Patton announced proudly before withdrawing slightly as if he had spoken out of turn. “Only if you want to, that is,”.

Logan once again eyed the jar in his hand and the spoon still in Patton’s hand, he hadn’t expected this to be such a significant decision or difficult choice to make. He had maintained his strict diet through four years of moving between many orphanages and had never been given the option to satisfy his appetite through more adventurous means. Logan took the spoon from Patton and hovering it above the lip of the jar, scarcely touching the jam inside until he took a deep breath and dipped the spoon into the partially eaten jam before transferring it to his mouth. He experienced the most incredible combination of flavours in a singe mouthful, he couldn’t help but go for another spoonful, a considerably larger one than previously. Experiencing a momentary lapse in self-control as a involuntary smile crept onto his face, receiving an obnoxious squeal from Patton snapping him out of his trance.

“Aw kiddo, I guess you liked it,” Patton explained a wide grin stretched across his lips.

“It was satisfactory,”Logan said dropping the smile from his lips, placing the jar and spoon back on the table a little too harsh as it emitted a sharp clang as it hit the table, causing Logan to flinch.

“So, Crofters on toast for breakfast?” Patton suggested and Logan found he couldn’t refuse.

As Logan sat at the dining room table, a plate of two slices of toast slathered in strawberry jam placed in front of him. Roman and Declan appeared both still dressed in their pyjamas at 8:32 am on the dot - according to Patton this was a daily occurrence - they mumbled their own good mornings and settled down at the table for their breakfast, leaving only Virgil absent from the table. After around fifthteen minutes, long after Roman and Declan had finished their meals and had been excused from the table, Logan had eaten exactly half of his own crofters on toast - which was exceptionally difficult given how delicious the jam was - but he refused to break his own rules due to a simple change in location but instead of retiring to his room he remained sat at the table. Observing Patton as he bustled around the kitchen, clearing away the mess of breakfast, glancing at the clock every so often with heightening levels of concern. Though a mere minute later, the assumed object of his concern -Virgil - appeared, dressed in his usual hoodie, he seemed to never take off, scrubbing tiredly at his eyes.

“Morning Virge, late night again was it?” Patton asked Virgil as he more or less collapsed into the hair opposite Logan, with an upward twitch of the lip in his direction as he groaned in response to Patton’s query. “Well, maybe some breakfast might help to perk you up a little,”.

Patton set a simple bowl of cereal in front of Virgil, who mumbled a thanks and gingerly tucked in to his breakfast, eyes placed firmly down in front of him. Logan suspected this change was due to a lack of sleep and not Logan’s addition to the household, but a small portion of his mind worried Virgil did not appreciate him barging into his family dynamic and his intrusion resulted in his irritation and poor nights sleep.

“Get that down you quick because we are going out today,” Patton announced with a grin as he continued to clean dishes.

“Where?” Roman questioned returning to the living room from his room, now completely dressed in his typical red and white outfit, accented with gold, carrying a large sketchbook and a collection of pencils.

“To the mall, we need to buy Logan some decorations for his room,” Patton answered with a smile in Logan’s direction, he recalled Patton saying they, at some point would be able to purchase some pieces for his new room but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. What if their arrangement did not work out? Would Logan be indebted to Patton on a financial level? Did Patton not hold the fear of spending so much on a child who he barely knew?

Logan’s biological parents regularly complained about money, specifically about the funds used to meet his needs; food, clothing, tutors, though as he aged he learned all to well his parents upstanding position in society and the large amount of wealth they possessed, used primarily for their own vanity purchases rather than for his upkeep but he found he didn’t mind. What they did teach him was not to want, anything that wasn’t a necessity he could live without. There was no need for frivolous comfort items like toys or decorations. It wasn’t necessary so he did not need it and did not want Patton to waste his hard earned money on him, when Logan had yet to earned or deserved any of it.

“It is alright Patton, I do not need for you to buy me anything, you have already given me far more than I deserve,” Logan said watching with an odd pain in his chest as Patton smile fell into something resembling pity, though he wasn’t entirely sure why his response had brought about such a reaction. Wouldn’t Patton be pleased he would not be required to spend valuable funds - which could be used for much more pressing matters rather than for his comfort - on him?

“Logan…” Patton began but was quickly interrupted by Virgil.

“Don’t bother trying to change his mind L, he will do it anyway so…” Virgil trailed off before continuing in the consumption of his breakfast. Logan assumed Virgil had, had a similar experience with Patton in the past resulting in his assurance. He also took note of the single letter Virgil referred to him with and despite himself he almost smiled.

“Yup, all of you kiddos deserve nice things and should not have to worry about things like money,” Patton exclaimed with a wide grin. “Even you Logan,”.

Logan jolted at the mention of his name, as Patton spoke directly to him. Nice things. Logan had been told for years he deserved nothing, he told himself he deserved the bare minimum of what he needed for survival yet Patton was now telling him differently. What was he to believe? His own rules which by now had been ingrained so deeply into his mind he could recite each rule by memory or Patton’s kindness.

“So what do you say, Logan?” Patton asked an expecting smile stretched across his lips and he found a lump had formed in his throat as he struggled to find the words to convey his internal battle.

“Okay,” Logan eventually responded after a prolonged period of silence which drew the attention of both Roman and Virgil as well as Patton’s large blue eyes which seemed to grow exponentially wider at Logan’s silence but once the silence was broken, relief faded into his expression and a warm smile replaced the worried one but Logan found himself unable to return it, averting his gaze to the table.

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed as he presumably celebrated Logan’s decision and immediately charged upstairs, to which Virgil responded with an eye roll and Patton a light-hearted chuckle. Though Logan did not share Roman’s enthusiasm at the idea of Patton - who had already provided him with far more than he deserved - spending copious amounts of money on him while he had no method of repayment and this pit of dread developing in his stomach, only grew as the time for their departure steadily approached.

***

The car journey was…interesting to say the least. Roman screamed ‘shotgun’ before even exiting the house which Virgil - who did not seem entirely pleased about Roman exclaiming the name of a highly dangerous weapon - explained that ‘shotgun’ was a sort of ‘code word’ for securing the front seat of the car and the ability to control the car radio and Roman took full advantage of that privilege. Playing a combination of upbeat, dramatic ballads he skilfully sang along to the entire car ride much to the irritation of Virgil who had shoved his large headphones on the minute he entered the car. Patton didn’t seem to mind, humming along to the tunes and even participated in the singing.

Logan was informed they were going to a mall, characterised as a large building which contained a series of smaller shops and retailers. He had never been inside one as his mother had always bought his clothes and any necessities; study materials and the like. Never decorations, toys or anything they deemed useless to his studies. The room Patton had provided was already a vast improvement to the space he occupied both at his parents house and the orphanage, while not as decorated or personal as Roman, Virgil and Dee’s, it contained all of the basic necessities and more. The pit of anxiety only seemed to grow more uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat, attempting not to allow his discomfort to display on his face.

They arrived a short while later, to a large building, occupied by a considerable number of people, bustling between shops with overflowing bags of items. The noise grated uncomfortably on Logan’s ear but he restrained the urge to cover them with his hands, to avoid worrying Patton. Roman marched on ahead, winding through the crowd of people with little care or concern while Virgil and himself hung back, remaining closer to Patton so not to get swept away with the crowd. Patton pushed Declan along in a stroller, smiling to people as he passed as Declan babbled gleefully, clearing pleased with the visual stimulation surrounding him. Virgil not so much, his shoulders were hunched, hands deep within the pockets of his hoodie, large headphones covering his ears - too loud music blasting from them - all signs Virgil was experiencing heightened levels of anxiety which along strengthened the pit of guilt developing in his abdomen. Virgil evidently, did not want to be here.

“Onward, my comrades, venture forth,” Roman exclaimed with a grin as they continued to walk forward, through the crowds of people going about their daily business, entering and exiting smaller rooms on either side of them, bags bursting with items hanging off their arms.

The first establishment they entered was a large department store - chosen by Patton - which contained a wide variety of items; furniture, household appliances, home decorations, technology and more. Everything was organised into sections for easily locating Logan assumed and individuals mulling around the various sections dressed in identical uniforms, presumably employees placed for assistance purposes and just as they entered one of these specifically dressed individuals approached them.

“Hello sir, do you need any help with finding anything today?” The woman said her mousy brown ponytail bouncy as she bounded towards the group, a welcoming grin spread across her face.

“Hi there kiddo, I think we are alright. Thank you for the offer though,” Patton responded equally as cheerful. Logan noted how Patton referred to the woman as ‘kiddo’ despite how she appeared to be of a similar age to Patton himself.

“Of course but if you are in need of any help. Please don’t hesitate to ask myself or one of my colleagues,” She said stepping a side to allow them to pass before glancing towards the stroller which held Declan, and Logan, Roman and Virgil all stood around. “Aw, are these your children, they are so cute,”.

“Thank you. Yes, these are my sons. We are having a family shopping trip,” Patton announced proudly, smiling at each of them as he did. Logan was surprised she didn’t note the significant difference between them as they did not appear to be biologically related but what shocked him more so was being referred to as Patton’s son, not as the child who was living in his house. Patton had called him his son the previous night but he supposed the depth of those words hadn’t fully sunk in yet as he found himself to be repeating them over and over again in his mind. The title feeling foreign to him.

“That sounds lovely, I hope you all enjoys yourselves. Goodbye,” She said with a wave before walking away to tend to another customer.

“Goodbye,” Patton replied. “Now boys, let’s go shopping,”.

They descended deeper into the store. Logan marvelled at the sheer mass and variety of the items which surrounded him, arranged on shelves stretching upwards almost reaching the ceiling of the large building. Roman continued to march ahead, having now collected a cart, he, every few minutes would pause, pick up and investigate an item before returning it to its position on the shelf. Virgil still didn’t move from Patton’s side but he did look considerably less anxious and was sharing his opinions on the items Roman picked from the shelves. Patton did the same while laughing and giggling at the pairs antics as Declan busied himself with a toy he had brought with him.

“Okay, plan of action,” Patton said clapping his hands together bringing everyone to a stop. “We are looking for a desk chair, a rug, curtains, maybe some pillows, a blanket and some stationary organisation. Also, Logan if you see anything you like just tell me and we’ll get it for you. Okay?”.

Logan nodded, unsure of his ability to voice his true feelings. The pit in his stomach only grew with every item Patton listed. All were material objects his biological parents would have viewed as unnecessary and chastised him for his greed and belief that he was deserving of such luxuries. Logan didn’t deserve it. It would simply be a waste of Patton’s hard-earned money. He considered voicing this but he recalled Virgil’s warning from this morning of Patton’s stubbornness, so instead decided to keep quiet and followed behind everyone as they scoured the store.

The first item was located by Patton, found in the back corner of the store, was a selection of rugs in a variety of colours and patterns set out on display, which immediately sparked a conversation between Patton, Roman and Virgil on which rug would fit the ‘aesthetic’ of Logan’s room the best. Logan did not participate, preferring to allow them to decide, as it was their house so they deserved a say in what was purchased for it. He paced the aisle tracing his fingers over the different textures of the rugs. Some were course and rough, Logan skipped over those ones quickly, while others were soft and fluffy, those he allowed his hands to sink into, the material tickling his fingertips.

“Hey Logan, what about this one?” Patton asked gesturing to a navy blue rug with a similar texture to the one he had been touching, so much so he desired to reach out and touch it but he restrained himself. “I thought it would match with the rest of your room but if you would prefer a different one, we can keep looking,”.

Logan took note of how quickly Patton redacted his suggestion following Logan’s silence, bringing forth a pang of guilt. Had he offended Patton for not immediately agreeing to his suggestion? He did like the rug. The colour and texture were extremely pleasing to him, but he hadn’t wanted to appear desperate or greedy by demanding specific items and was merely waiting for one of the others to make a decision he could readily agree with. He hadn’t expected Patton to ask for his opinion.

“I like it,” Logan blurted out. Too quickly. Drawing curious glances from both Patton and Virgil but neither questioned him, thankfully.

“Alright kiddo, so we’ll get this one,” Patton said taking one of the pre-rolled rugs from the shelf and placing it into the shopping cart. “Okay, onto the next thing,”.

“I like the white one better,” Roman pouted before beginning to push the cart forward. Logan heart-rate immediately jumped. Had he made the wrong choice? Should he have gone with Roman’s pick to please him? Did Roman hate him now?

“Of course you did,” Virgil said with an eye roll and a sarcastic drawl, walking alongside Roman.

“Remember Roman, we are here for Logan today,” Patton said pushing the stroller a few paces behind Roman and Virgil, while Logan hung back.

“Yeah, I know. Come on, lets look at something more exciting than boring old rugs,” He exclaimed before picking up speed, almost gliding along with the cart as Virgil struggled to keep up.

“Don’t go to far ahead,” Patton warned but still giggled at the sight. Logan remained routed in his spot beside the stacks of rugs, eyes hovering over the spot Patton had selected the new rug from, before dropping it to the sticker beneath it, detailing the price. His chest tightened at the sight. It was so much. Why was Patton willing to spend so much on one item for him? How was he ever going to repay him? “Hey Logan, are you okay?”.

“Oh yes, I am satisfactory,” Logan said attempting to hide his shock as he ran to catch up with Patton, removing any sign of worry from his expression as he fell into line beside him.

The second item was a set of curtain, in an identical blue to the rug but contained tiny almost unnoticeable speckles of white granting the appearance of stars which Logan found exceptionally appealing but again did not voice this intense like, allowing Virgil to select them and himself to nod in agreement. The third and final item was a simple desk chair, located in the furniture section, which displayed a fully assembled version for testing purposes. It had a simple design, all black, with a cushioned seat but what was unusual about the design was the mechanism which allowed it to rotate. Roman demonstrated, spinning until he was unsteady on his feet and Logan couldn’t help but smile at the silliness of the situation and if Roman enjoyed the chair so much maybe it would improve the relationship between the two them. Once an employee - a different one from the women who had greeted them by the door - had helped them locate the disassembled chair from the much larger storeroom, they made their way to the register to pay. The total stunned Logan, he hadn’t taken note of the prices of the curtains or the chair, the guilt fell heavy on his shoulders as protests built within his throat. Why was he allowing Patton to do this? It was way too much. But again he said nothing and again he allowed Patton to waste more money on him.

The next store they went to was smaller, filled with home decoration rather than practical appliances, no one greeted them at the door but a cashier smiled at them as they passed. Immediately Logan began looking at the price of every item they passed at, becoming attracted to the cheapest of the selection despite its appearance, hoping Patton would appreciate his efforts. The fourth item was chosen by Roman, a collection of small pillows in a variety of shades of blue and grey, each with a different scientific image decorating it.

“Hey look, they are nerdy, like you,” Roman said pushing one of the pillows - with a chemical formula printed onto it - into Logan’s face. He genuinely appreciated Roman’s attempt to select items suited to his interests but it made it all the more difficult to refuse them. Roman didn’t wait for a response and took his elongated silence and small smile as his answer and tossed each to the cart individually. Similar decorations were also added to the cart such as; a selection of pictures detailing space themed scenes picked by Virgil, an alarm clock chosen by Patton, stationary organisers once again shoved in his face by Roman and an L shaped book end picked by Declan - though he merely repeated the letter L until Logan put it in the cart - the fact he hadn’t chosen anything for himself eased his mind somewhat. It lessened the guilt. If one of the others chose it for him, they had chosen it for themselves and not him. Logan let it continue.

The fifth item was a blanket. Logan had been tracing his fingertip along each individual blanket whilst Roman and Virgil bickered over two different colours, pausing on one in particular. At first glance it appeared to be a simple grey but as he sunk his fingers deeper into the soft fur a glitter caught his eye, blue and green glitter and sparkle appeared as he manipulated it with his hands. The combination of colours was pleasant as was the texture and weight of it, it would act well as a weighted blanket. Logan immediately snapped himself out of his daydream, praying Patton hadn’t witnessed him, mesmerised by an unnecessary blanket but unfortunately he was not so lucky.

“Hey Logan, did you find something you like?” Patton asked causing Logan to flinch and attempt to hide the blanket. “Oh I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean to frighten you. What were you looking at?”. Logan glanced down, ashamed by his childishness and stood aside, allowing Patton to see the blanket.

“Ooh, that is pretty,” He said reaching out to touch the soft material, revealing the blue and green underneath, just as Logan had done. “Do you want to get it?”.

Logan shrugged, refusing to meet Patton’s eye. He knew Patton would notice something was wrong, he was frustratingly perceptive of people’s emotions, especially Logan’s. But Patton was spending so much. He couldn’t handle it. All the what ifs circling in his mind. What if this didn’t work out, Patton said he wouldn’t return Logan to the orphanage but what if something happens? What if Logan changes and Patton decides he doesn’t want to deal with his problems any more? Logan certainly wouldn’t blame him but what would happen then?

“Logan, I’ve noticed this is really stressing you out, you haven’t chosen anything for yourself,” Patton said a strange expression Logan couldn’t decipher appearing on his face. “If it is about the cost, I don’t care. I want to you have nice things, as your dad it is my job to provide for you. You shouldn’t worry about money at your age. I am doing this because I want to, okay Logan?”.

“Okay,” Logan said quietly after an elongated pause, not knowing what else to say.

“We can talk more later,” Patton said before picking up the blanket. “Now, do you want the blanket?”.

Logan nodded, unable to force out a verbal answer but Patton smiled anyway, ruffling Logan’s hair and placing the blanket in the cart. When they went to pay Patton purposefully shielded the total cost from him, which he was strangely grateful for as it allowed him to quieten his mind, without the cost screaming in his head how he didn’t deserve Patton’s kindness.

Following the rather stressful shopping experience, they stopped at a small café for lunch. It was quieter than the much bigger food establishments so it was preferable for Logan and Virgil who had been subjected to the noise of the busy mall for too long. Roman, Virgil and Dee sat at the table whilst Patton went to order the food, Logan accompanying him at Patton’s request.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Patton asked as they waited in the queue.

“I am fine Patton,” Logan said.

“I know you’re not,” Patton sighed. Logan immediately felt his heart sink. Had he disappointed Patton? He sounded frustrated. Had he ruined everything already? Patton seemed to note Logan’s rising panic. “Oh no, hey, hey, that isn’t a bad thing. You haven’t done anything wrong and I just want you to know that I want to do this for you, I want to get you nice things and you deserve it,”.

“Okay,” Logan replied it was all he could say as they reached the front of the queue and Patton ordered. A cheese and tomato toasted sandwich for Logan, a chicken salad wrap for Patton, for Roman a turkey sandwich and two simple ham sandwiches for Virgil and Declan with an additional fancily decorated miniature cake each.

They returned to their table and everyone tucked into their food as Patton, Roman and Virgil fell into a comfortable conversation, while Logan carefully divided his sandwich. He recalled his outing with Patton to a similar café following their visit to the book-store and planetarium. It was the greatest day of his life. The day when he discovered how incredible Patton truly was and the small bond of trust began to blossom between them. The recollection of the day-out brought a smile to his face. A lot had certainly happened since then, the most significant being Madame Claire’s arrest and Logan finally leaving the orphanage behind and entering a new ‘home’ with Patton and his children.

Once they had all finished, Logan having eaten exactly half of his sandwich and a quarter of his cupcake - he didn’t want to indulge to heavily in overly sweet treats - before returning to their shopping. The final store they visited offered a selection of toys, books and stationary. Roman and Virgil picked out a selection of notebooks, pens and pencils, Logan felt less guilty choosing them as they were seen as necessary items for his studies, though they were more colourful and visually pleasing than his biological parents would have chosen for him but he allowed it. They travelled quickly through the toy section, he had never been particularly interested in toys, the soft grey bear Patton had given him was the first toy that was exclusively his and thus felt a strange attachment to this toy in the particular but when Declan picked up and showed him a miniature Big Hero Six figurine of Baymax Logan found he couldn’t refuse the small toddler. Eventually Roman, Virgil and Declan wandered off, returning to the toy section, while Logan walked along side Patton as they scoured the shelves.

“You haven’t chosen anything yet,” Patton said presumably noting how Logan only decided on items, picked out by one of the others. “I promise I won’t be mad or upset with you, we are here for you. I want you to choose something you want,”.

Logan bit his lip and nodded. If Patton said it was alright, maybe it would be okay. He could choose one thing if it would make Patton happy. Logan stepped forward, surveying the shelves, paying particular attention to the price rather than the item itself which didn’t go unnoticed by Patton.

“I don’t care about the cost, Logan, you can choose anything you’d like. I don’t mind,” Patton assured him but Logan’s guilt only grew but he wanted to please Patton so he forced it down, studying items around him.

They were in a aisle filled with the different bedroom decorations; pillows, photo frames, purposeless knick-knacks and a variety of lights - one of what was a pair of string lights Logan recognised from Virgil room - he was preparing to walk past but then noticed a box on the end of the aisle. It was a collection of accurate glow in the dark stars. Logan had always loved astronomy. he had spent long nights staring out of the window at the stars, mapping out constellations, studying everything he could about space and the stars that lived within it. He had spent hours explaining the basic science of space of Patton in their sessions and he researched more and more to tell Patton about when he returned every week. Logan paused in front of the stars, identifying each of the constellations detailed on the box; Orion, Ursa Major, Scorpius.

“What have you found, Logan?” Patton asked coming up behind him just as Roman, Virgil and Declan returned also.

“Wow, they are cool, are you going to get them?” Roman exclaimed as Logan nodded before he lost his resolve and picked another random item, taking the box of the stars from the shelf, dropping it into the cart.

“Alright, let’s pay and then head home,” Patton exclaimed with a wide grin directed towards Logan who couldn’t help but smile in return.

They paid and left. Virgil immediately called out ‘shot-gun’ as soon as their vehicle was in sight, resulting in Roman pouting the entire journey back to the house as Virgil played his rather loud and dark music with some rather strange lyrics but Logan found himself enjoying the alternative rock beat, tapping his fingertips against his thighs to the rhythm. Upon returning to the house and removing the newly bought items from the car, transporting them to the…no his room and set about assembling and the arranging them. Unrolling the rug, hanging the pictures above his bed, organising the stationary into colour coordinated containers on his desk as Patton pored over the instructions for assembling the desk chair. They lay the pillows at the head of his bed and set the pristinely folded blanket on the edge above the quilt. Once the chair - after some difficulty and Logan’s assistance - was finally constructed and the curtains were hung over the window, allowing a slither of the late afternoon light to seep into the room, Declan added the final touches placing the Baymax figurine and the L shaped book end on the bedside table as Logan set the books he had been keeping in his rucksack - in which he had been keeping all of his minimal belongings - beside the book end before tucking in safely away under his bed once again. If Patton had noticed Logan’s rucksack, he didn’t mention it, instead pulling one last item from the bag. The box of stars.

“I’m going to go and get started on dinner, how about you get started putting them up?” Patton suggested giving the box to Logan before lifting Declan and resting him on his hip. “I’ll bring through the step ladder for you,”.

Patton left Declan in his arms and Roman and Virgil trailing after him, presumably to retire their owns room before their evening meal. Patton brought through the miniature ladder, urging Logan to be careful to which he assured him that he would be, then he was alone. He immediately unboxed the individual stars, arranging them by size on his new rug, then into his favourite constellations, preparing to stick them to his ceiling, creating a brilliant night sky in his bedroom. Logan stood upon the ladder, sticking each star with care to the black ceiling, forming startlingly accurate constellations until they filled his ceiling, faintly glowing in the slowly dwindling light. He descended from the ladder and simply stared. They were incredible. They didn’t contain the same beauty of the night sky but it filled him with the same calming sensation as he gazed up at them, ignoring the slight pain in his neck as he did so.

“Hey Logan, dinner is ready!” Patton exclaimed poking his head into the room. “Wow, they look really cool, kiddo,”.

“Thank you Patton, I tried to arrange them to resemble accurate constellations, though of course they’re several inconsistencies between them but they are a acceptable replica,” Logan replied glancing up at the softly glowing stars with a small smile of his lips.

“Aw kiddo, they are great,” Patton said with a wide, toothy grin. “They look just like the real thing, now let’s go get some dinner,”.

For dinner was chicken, potatoes and portion of green vegetables, much easier to divide in perfect halves then the spaghetti. Everyone conversed openly over the table, sharing stories about the day and plans for tomorrow when Roman and Virgil returned to school even Logan joined in when he wasn’t fixated on his food. Following the meal, each of them returned to their separate rooms, in which Logan sat in his new desk chair, glancing around his room, at his new belongings…at the cost. Patton had spent so much and intentionally attempted to hide the total price from him. Did he regret spending so much? Would he expect Logan to do something in return? The guilt lay heavy on his chest as he glanced up at his ceiling, digging his nails into the palms of his hands until there was a knock at his door, causing him to jump up in surprise.

“Hiya Logan, can I come in, kiddo?” Patton asked as Logan returned the chair to its correct position by his desk.

“Yes,” Logan responded opening the door for Patton. “Salutations Patton, did you require something of me,”.

“I was just wondering how you were, I know today was quite stressful for you,” Patton said taking a seat on the edge of Logan’s bed, patting the spot beside him for Logan to sit down, which he did.

“I am alright Patton, yes, today’s activities were certainly outside of my comfort zone but I assure you, I am okay,” Logan said he knew wasn’t entirely being truthful but he prayed that Patton wouldn’t notice.

“Okay kiddo, if you are sure. Um…I wanted to ask you if you want to go out again tomorrow…Roman and Virgil are in school so it would just be you, me and Dee…we could buy you some new clothes?” Patton suggested and Logan’s heart rate shot up and the idea of Patton spending even more money on him but he fought to keep his face expressionless. “So what do you think?”.

“Okay,” Logan answered the simple one word answer was all he could muster without revealing all of the anxiety and fear he held inside.

“Okay,” Patton repeated stretching forward to press a gentle kiss to Logan’s forehead. “Now, I think it is time for you to go to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow. Goodnight,”.

“Goodnight, Patton,” Logan replied as Patton left switching of the light, allowing the stars to glow at their full brightness as Logan gazed up at them mesmerised by the brilliant gleam each individual star emitted.

Immediately overcome by a wave of exhaustion, Logan quickly undressed, changing into this pyjamas before crawling into bed. His new pillows cushioning his head and his new blanket wrapped around him as he began to slip off to sleep, under his own star-filled sky.

Notes: Crofters has been introduced, Logan will be changed forever.

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#sanders sides au #sander sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #Adoption AU #thomas sanders #home is where the hart is #found families #original characters #My writing #My fic

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comradekatara · 5 years

Note

sexism in the fire nation?? I want more examples!!

Okay, I’m not sure exactly to which post you’re referring, but you should know I have made a post expounding on this topic in the past. I do wish to speak on it further, though, because there seems to be this widespread belief among the fandom that the Fire Nation is the least sexist of all four nations during Aang’s time—and this bothers me for a number of reasons…

7 more paragraphs under the cut because it seems I have no self control???

The Fire Nation is an imperialist state that profits off of its colonialism, to the detriments of the territories it colonizes (obviously). Therefore, it makes sense that the FN seems more modernized than the rest of the world. But do not mistake their technological advancement for social progress. It is common propaganda that social progress moves with technological progress, in the same direction, and at the same pace. (For one thing, define “social progress.”) Colonialist states such as Israel will try to justify their occupation of Palestinian territory and oppression of Palestinians with, “Okay, yeah, maybe we’re doing those things, but we’re also the only country in the Middle East with LGBT rights!” And um, sure, Tel Aviv has a pride parade, but the Israeli gov’t also directly oppresses LGBT Palestinians. Or how when India decriminalized homosexuality and a lot of dumb liberals were like, “Good for India for finally catching up to the West!” when it was Western (British) influence that fucked India up in the first place.

And even so, these are not the best examples I could give, because the FN can’t even boast gay rights. Now, you all know I tend to see the comics as a buffet of canon; I pick and choose what feels right, and if I doubt its plausibility, I have no problem ignoring it. At first, I was dubious to the claim that Firelord Sozin criminalized homosexuality. Apparently, being gay was all fine and dandy in the Fire Nation before Sozin (which I highly doubt, but still) and then all of a sudden he’s rounding up his subjects and sending them off to… well, it never exactly specifies, but you can guess. Again, not many specifics are given. But, it would make sense for an autocrat boasting the glory of his nation to need a scapegoat, and “the homosexuals” seem a pretty decent target. I mean, it’s not like this doesn’t have historical precedent. So while I initially marked it as kind of immature writing, just the idea that Bad Man is Homophobe because Bad, the more I examined the Fire Nation royal family of ATLA, the more it made sense that the Fire Nation has a history of egregious homophobia.

Instead of looking to Sozin, who we truly know nothing about other than the fact that he liked to throw grass in people’s faces as a kid (which, uh, same—okay tangent, but why is ripping grass out of the ground and then throwing it like confetti so satisfying? Anyway), we need to look at the interplay among Ozai, Zuko, Iroh, Azula, and Ursa. Now, it’s really not hard to apply a queer reading to Zuko’s arc. I mean, the fact that it plays out like a 1:1 of a coming-out narrative wasn’t intentional on the part of the head writers is, frankly, staggering. And saying this isn’t to diminish the importance of his moral growth—one of understanding his own complicity in the war, and taking on the responsibility to mitigate his family’s legacy of violence and terror—but it is actually impossible to ignore the role Gender plays in all of this. If the Fire Nation was truly free of sexism, which, by the way, is impossible because its culture is too steeped in real-world influences to be able to separate imperialist values from upholding patriarchy, Zuko’s story would have played out much differently. For the record, you could switch out the word “Honor” for masculinity in not just ATLA, but a lot of other texts as well (especially those involving duels) and I bet we’d all come to understand just how silly and deluded the entire concept is. Of course, honor does not necessarily equate to masculinity. Acting honorably is whatever the culture defines it to be. For the Fire Nation, their culturally is militaristically-inclined, and so Zuko tries desperately to be a good soldier. Of course, Zuko is terrible at War, and thus is considered a failure. Being nurturing, compassionate, sensitive, or gentle is seen as weakness, and thus Zuko is forced to suppress these inherent traits if he does not want to be deemed weak. To be clear, Zuko does not learn how to be good; he learns that he is good. That he’s okay as he is, and that he should trust to act on his instincts, because they were right all along.

Concurrently, while Azula’s arc is certainly less Gender than Zuko’s is (Toph proves the closest parallel to Zuko in that regard), misogyny is a pervasive element in understanding why she is the way she is. Unlike Zuko, who is, frankly, encouraged to yell (as it is pretty much the only form of emotional expression men are permitted to display) Azula must remain poised at all times if she wants to stay in her parents’ good graces. She clearly had better discipline than Zuko did as a child—and that is partially due to raw talent, but talent can only get you so far. Her flames weren’t always blue. While, yes, Azula is valued for typically masculine traits, such as her physical prowess, cunning, and “stoicism,” she is the Crown Princess. It is expected of her to follow in her father’s footsteps and promote military dominance during her inevitable reign. And surely you must be saying, “Well, if there are female Firelords, case closed, right? If a woman can be supreme ruler, then clearly the country cannot be sexist.” Riiiiiiight. Because Ancient Egypt wasn’t sexist. Because Britain. Etc.

I also see people saying that there were female guards at the Boiling Rock. Other than the fact that the Boiling Rock seems like it’s a bit short on guards and will take what they can get at the moment (Sokka and Zuko are both children who do not fit into those uniforms and no one questions it. No one even says, “Hey, aren’t you a little too young to work here?” …which is a shame, because the response, “I’m an intern..?” would’ve floored me) working-class women have always participated in labor. The Boiling Rock is not a gender-segregated prison. The only thing they care about is whether or not you’re a threat to the Fire Nation. They don’t even care if you’re an actual child (see: Suki). Seeing as the Fire Nation is deeply concerned with the containment of rebel forces, and the prison is fucking huge, it makes sense that they would hire a handful of women along with the male guards. It doesn’t seem like a job many would want (although with the Fire Nation’s brainwashing it’s hard to say), and they could use all hands on deck. But do we see any female high-ranking military officials? Any female soldiers in their military at all? The worst jobs cannot afford not to hire women. The Firelord cannot afford not to turn his daughter into a weapon simply because she is female. (His dumb gay son is clearly inept and a lost cause.) Azula’s greatest advantage is that people underestimate her. She enlists the help of Mai and Ty Lee, two teenage girl non-benders, because she knows that agility is key. She would rather blend in, be able to move through crowds unnoticed, than to show off (not to say she doesn’t like showing off, but she is distinctly subtler than Zuko, not to mention Ozai). In this way, her cunning and prowess are feminine qualities. Her swallowing of her emotional outbursts is a distinctly female trait. Under patriarchy, men are, in fact, encouraged to display their emotions more than women are, because at least men get to be angry. Azula is hyperaware of how misogyny operates in society, and she uses that as yet another tool in her arsenal.

Now, I cannot go without mentioning Iroh’s treatment of Azula. We’re clearly all thinking it. Pre-Lu Ten’s-Death-Inspired-Epiphany-Iroh sends his niece and nephew some gifts from the Earth Kingdom: a doll and a knife, respectively. He sends the wrong toy to the wrong kid. First of all, he sends a ten-year-old Zuko a knife, which is decidedly not a toy (though he still manages to use it like one), and he sends a doll to Azula, which she immediately burns out of spite. Azula rejects gender roles in the same way Zuko does, but there is another layer to it, because femininity and women are so devalued; masculinity and association to it is a way of gaining power. Thus, Azula must perform femininity (physical perfection, “One hair out of place”) to gain approval and can never be caught slipping if she wants to be taken seriously. Unlike Zuko, who never once acts dignified, and is never taken seriously, Azula has learned to utilize these roles to her advantage in every possible way. And yet, Iroh does not care about how well she presents herself. She is a woman, and she wields too much power. Of course, the latter part is true. She is far too powerful considering her agenda, and she does need to be stopped (and helped). But when Iroh says, “No, she is crazy and needs to go down,” there are some heavily gendered implications at play here. To put it outright: Iroh is a sexist. He may have critically reexamined his views on war and peace after the death of his son, but that clearly did not extend to gender. Even a subtle thing, like constantly trying to set Zuko up with random girls in Ba Sing Se (it’s implied it’s not a one-off occurrence) (also, why would he be so rude to those poor girls as to force them to go on a date with Zuko, the actual worst person you could ever go on a date with except for perhaps a serial killer) seems a bit…. presumptuous. Not that I’m necessarily faulting him for his heteronormativity. Suki never had the chance to introduce him to Judith Butler after all, seeing as they had a war to win under intense time pressure and all that when they met. Maybe afterward, though. It’s the least he could do to better connect with his #Wells4Boys nephew (and #MyLittleStepchildren niece—though they truly have their work cut out for them).

So yeah, assuming that sexism does not exist in the Fire Nation ignores the real-world implication of those claims. The Fire Nation is largely modeled after imperialist Japan, among other cultural influences. To then claim that an imperialist, militaristic society can exist without patriarchy in a cultural landscape so similar to our own is heavily reductive and downright ignorant. Not to mention, there’s pretty clear evidence throughout the entire show that the Fire Nation is sexist, among every class, and on a systemic, structural level.

So when people say, “Sexism is bad for men, as they are taught to repress their emotions, and they hurt themselves and others in the process,” they are, in fact, talking about Zuko. QED.

#analysis #zuko #azula #iroh #yeah this is two thousand words...#hope its adequate!!! lol #anon #asks

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constantlyunlightening · 5 years

Text

Look At Me

Pairing: Ferdinand Von Aegir x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Rated Explicit for: Wandering eyes, teasing, smut and dialogue that’s like dirty talk except not at all, really, because it’s just fluffy and cute

I already posted this on AO3 but I’m going to post it here because I’m finally showing up in the tags!!! Yay! Comment/Reblog if you like it! And remember, save a horse, ride a paladin.

18 years of age or older! If you're under, do not read or interact.

Ferdinand Von Aegir was a whole lot of things. He was honest, optimistic and hard working. He was ideal-driven and thoughtful. However, there was one thing he absolutely was not; slick.

He could try to be prim and proper all he wanted, but it didn't take intensive observation skills to catch the noble in the act of eyeing you up. Or more specifically, eyeing up your chest.

It had been an occurrence that you had caught on more than one occasion. Sunrise eyes would lock onto your form; an innocent notion at first. But soon enough, his attention would slip down to the swells of your breasts as you went about your usual activities. It wasn't until he finally peeked his eyes back upwards, only to lock gazes with the person of his affections. It was in that split second he would tear himself away, turning not only his gaze, but his entire body away from you in the process. He liked to point out that the long mane he had grown out was due to being busy more so than for fashion or practical purposes, but he sure seemed to be getting a use out of it now as it managed to curtain away the pink starting to creep onto his cheeks as he made his escape from you.

You supposed he was embarrassed and trying to protect his dignity. He most likely thought it was unsightly for a noble such as himself to gaze to frivolously at a woman like he was, even if he was in a relationship with said woman. And while it may not be the best solution, it would explain why he instantly would dart out of the room or busy himself with something else once he was caught staring. Admittedly, the first few times you had noticed, it was amusing to watch the flourish of red rise to his cheeks as he scrambled away, by now you were craving attention more so than watching him escape yet again.

If you were to confront him, you were positive he would meet you with a surplus of apologizes if you called for it, but that wasn't what you were looking for. You didn't want him to say he was sorry. You didn't mind that he was looking. In fact, you enjoyed that sort of attention when it was from him. If you could spare some time alone together, you wanted to actually act upon the desire he had that caused him to look. But that was hard to do with him getting himself worked up in such a fluster and then running away as if he were a child about to get scolded.

But that plan of action was not going to work any longer for him. You weren't going to let it. This wasn't a battle field by any means, but you knew how to be strategic and with a just a little planning, you were going to get what you wanted. Or at the very least, you were going to get Ferdinand to be a bit more comfortable with his lustful whimsy. And today was the day to put your strategy into action.

Dorothea had a hand in planning your outfit for the day. Your usual outfits may display your assets well enough for Ferdinand's taste already, but you wanted to push him a tad further this time. Maybe he'd be less bashful in his lust if you indulged him. Or at the very least, catching him off guard in the little number you were wearing was sure to get an interesting reaction. You were borrowing a black dress from the opera singer - silky fabric corseted at your waist and forcing the dress to detail over your curves. It wasn't anything too extreme compared to other outfits you've warn, but there was a key to the neckline of the outfit. It was the reason you asked Dorothea for this specific dress. It absolutely plunged, revealing a strip of skin that went all the way down to the embrace of your corset. Ferdinand would really have something to look at today. To keep yourself concealed until you were ready to show off, you had the foresight to keep an oversized jacket around yourself during the day. It would keep unwanted gazes away from other men, but more so than that, you wanted to catch your target completely off guard.

The jacket worked well to hide the surprise. When Ferdinand came to greet you, he almost seemed relieved. Poor boy must be so pent up. You could remedy that.

"Well, hello, my love!" He greeted you with that warm smile you had grown so very accustomed to - the very smile you had fallen absolutely in love with. It further steeled your resolve as he came to your side, proceeding to walk with you down the hall. With your more conservative jacket, he must have been put more into focus for the time being, seeing as he dove right into work mode. "I am sorry to start your day off with work related thoughts, however I would like to inquire if you will be joining me tomorrow evening to go speak with the head of House Villon? It is a simple meeting to go over supply routes, so I can handle it on my own. But I must admit, I do prefer having you by my side. I find comfort in it." His voice brought a sense of calm over you, his cheery energy drawing your full attention to him as a smile came to your lips.

You'd follow him to the depths of hell if he asked you too. "Of course, I'll go," you confirmed, as you paused walking, turning to face him. "Since that's not until tomorrow, do you have some free time now? I was wondering if you'd be interested in having some tea with me."

There was no hesitation in his response as he nodded. Always one to please, specifically when it came to you. "If it is tea you are after, I would be happy to oblige." He offered his arm out for you to take, using the chance to get closer. "To the dining hall!"

You wrapped your arm with his, enjoying the contact while your heart fluttered with excitement. Time to put your little scheme into action. "Actually, I was hoping to spend our time in my room." You met his inquisitive look with a calm smile of your own as you answered the silent question he posed. "I like the quiet sometimes. It's nice to spend time alone with you."

He didn't seem to even consider the fact that your room had no equipment or space to properly brew tea, too delighted by your answer evidently. "I am worried I will become too excited if your attention is all directed towards me," he mused, his eyes crinkling with his smile as he casually changed directions, guiding you back to your room with no further questioning.

It was when both of you finally entered your room that he realized you were lacking the necessary tools to fulfill your request. You had guided him to enter the room first as you shut the door behind you, his back to you as he appraised the room. "We have seemed to have forgotten we will actually need a teapot. No need to worry! I shall go fetch us one at once-" he had turned to head back out the door, only to end up freezing once he was facing you. During the time he had been looking around the room, you had silently removed the jacket, discarding it onto a hook and revealing the actual dress you had on beneath it.

A simple change, really, but it did the trick. Removing the jacket initially appeared to be a small deviation but those amber hues of his had quickly settled on tracking the line of the dress as it displayed the valley of your breasts. The sight alone was enough to steal the words - and his very breath - straight from his throat and he could do nothing but simply stare for the moment. "Were you-" he began, but there was a slight break in his voice as he stammered, having to redeem his words before continuing "-were you not wearing a jacket?" He was aware he should look away but he was clearly struggling to. Even as he spoke up, he couldn't seem to divert his attention elsewhere as a rose coloring started to dust his cheeks before blooming into a deep crimson that spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

Maybe it was that flood of warmth that drew him to his senses because he physically shook his head to force himself to look anywhere but at you. In his haste, he began to pace forward, as if he'd be able to side step you to get to the door, despite the fact you were directly in front of it. "I- Um- Teapot! I shall fetch the teapot at once-"

"Stay." A clear and precise direction rose from your lips as you adjusted your weight, leaning back against the door to temporarily block his escape. The only other choice he'd have now is sticking around or diving through the glass of your window. You could only hope he still had enough of his senses not to bust out the glass, but you were slightly concerned now with the way he seemed to stagger himself back at your command. But, you did quite enjoy seeing him squirm so much since he couldn't leave yet. It made up for all the times he had ran off from you without a single word. He floundered for words in front of you at your request. You beat him to it, gesturing to the bed with a nod of your head and the sweetest smile you could form. "Sit."

He didn't. Instead, he remained rooted to his spot as his gaze flitted around the room, every so often landing back on you, down to your ample cleavage, and then darting away in his panic. Eventually, he gave up in attempting to control his stare, instead opting to physically shield his eyes as he used a hand to cover his face, his other hand coming to rest on his opposing elbow as that arm crossed over himself. He resigned himself, once again using those gorgeous locks of his to shield himself further, his hand apparently not sufficient for his needs. "I very much want to spend time with you, do not misunderstand, please. But would you please be willing to put your jacket back on?"

He spoke! Coherently, this time. You were going to take that to mean he had calmed down just enough to hopefully not burst through the door once you moved away from it. You took a chance, stepping towards him- once, twice, again. He stayed in place even as he felt your presence right in front of him, but he dared not uncover his eyes. "Why?" You feigned innocence, as if you weren't aware of what this dress was doing to him - as if you didn't know your actions were fuel to the flame of his inner turmoil.

Ferdinand hadn't caught onto your teasing as he seemed to choke on air with your question. Clearing his throat loudly, he instinctively took a step back as you tried to get in even closer. "Because!"

Because wasn't an answer. "Because why?" You persisted, continuing to step forward, step after step, moving him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of your bed.

Perhaps because he could no longer create distance, the flustered Paladin flopped to a sit on the mattress, in a last ditch attempt to regain some space to breathe. It was to no avail however, and he finally answered your question in a volume that was a smidge too loud to even pretend he wasn't flustered like a school boy with his first crush. "Because I am afraid I will not be able to control myself when I see you in such a state!"

Control himself, huh? It was your turn to remain silent a moment as you found a spot between his legs and you casually let you hand come to his chest, gently tracing a circle against the fabric of his outfit. "Hey, Ferdinand?" Your voice was so soft. Soft enough to have his heart jump in his chest - you could feel it beneath your palm as he swallowed, waiting with baited breath for your next words. "Do you love me?"

It was suddenly as if this entire scenario hadn't played out. They were not the words he had been expecting. But, no matter how random the question may be, if there was any single inkling of a doubt that you may have about his feelings, he was going to make sure to clear the air immediately. It was that specific motivation to reassure you that his hand finally left his face and he looked you dead on, both his hands coming to cup your cheeks. Dress and lustful thoughts, be damned. He was not going to allow you to be unsure. He was Ferdinand Von Aegir and he was not about to let the love of his life have any doubt about his passion for her. "Of course! I love you more than the sun in the sky and the breath in my lungs." His voice was as clear as a bell. And now that he was finally looking at you unobstructed and head on, you matched his honesty with your own, beaming brightly at him.

"Then I don't need you to control yourself. I love you. And I want you to look at me."

And he did, albeit hesitantly. Your words had his attention drawn back to what had him to sheepish in the first place. Wide eyes scanned your face before darting back downwards to your chest now directly before him and he had to resist the urge to cover his visage again. You had said it was okay, but it was still sinking in as he released your face from his grasp.

"Look at you, you say! Is that not rather unbecoming of me?" His heart was still thundering under you hand as he tossed out his question. But now that you had said such a desire out loud, he couldn't pull his focus from you in the slightest. You were a vision - the goddess herself could not ever hope to create something so beautiful ever again! How could she? And here you were, saying it was okay to indulge himself in such a sight?

You giggled and it was a sound that absolutely entranced him as you shook your head. "Not if you love me and not if I want you too," you assured him. And, by the goddess, did you want him too.

"Are you sure? I do not wish to upset you or do anything that would make you think less of me," he began, his voice beginning to speed through his words. He was usually a lot more assured with himself. It just reminded you how much he cared about you, if this was the one thing that got him worked up in such a way. "I can withhold myself if I must! I do not wish to force you-"

You loved his way with words. You really did. But sometimes, what you needed was action. So you made that choice for him, leaning in and stealing a kiss from his lips as well as effectively ending his line of questions. He melted under your tender kiss - his body loosened up and his eyes finally fluttered close.

The kiss seemed to unlock a flood gate within him. His emotions and longing all burst forth at once as he took you by the hips. He gained control of the kiss, letting his tongue sweep against your bottom lip before pushing past to explore. You had convinced him. If you wanted him to look at you, he would. And if you wanted him to give up his self control, he would do that too. No more reservations. He would happily be at your beck and call, so long as you wanted him to be.

All the shyness and hesitation and panic he had before was gone. In it's place was grace and confidence as his hands deftly worked to undress your body. It was actually fairly outstanding how quick of work he made of your clothes, dropping your dress and your small clothes to the ground, then followed by his own. In a blissful flurry, soon the two of you were stripped bare with your back against the bed as Ferdinand was over you, dropping a series of kisses down you soft skin.

You were in a peaceful ecstasy as he kissed down you body, his hair kept out of his face with the way your fingers coiled in the silky strands. "I love you. I love you so much," his voice was a melodic chant as he said it again and again. The vibrations of his hums in tandem with the kisses fluttering over your chest had you bursting out in soft giggles that he absolutely reveled in. After all the gawking he had done, he finally was taking his chance to enjoy the plush mounds in his hands and how utterly sweet you tasted. Your reactions to his ministrations were even better than he could ever imagine.

"I love you too," you cooed out, your back arching into the teasing kisses he provided. However, your sound was soon shifting to quiet moans as his lips found a place on the peek of your breast, tentatively sucking on the pert tip as his hand toyed with the other one. His eyes peered up at you, watching the gorgeous expressions flashing across your face with each gentle nip and playful tug. Absolutely captivating. He could stare at you forever. It was your turn to get flustered now, a sheen of pink starting to darken over your cheeks and it made him smirk against your skin.

You got back at him when you wrapped your legs around his waist and tried to rut your hips against him, causing him to pull back from you with a slight stagger. He composed himself a little, before propping himself up on his hands to look down at you. He chuckled at the whine you released from the loss of affection, but he helped distract you as one hand wrapped around your waist, dragging your hips up closer to him so your body was pressed against his girth. He was hard against you as his length pushed against your folds but he remained still as he opted to burn the sight of you into your memory. He was starting unabashedly now as he memorized your curves. Your own hands went to grip at his forearms, tugging at him gently now that you could no longer toy with his hair.

"I want you," you whined out, rubbing your hands up a little while you took the initiative to wiggle your hips against him. His length was by no means precise enough to hit the bundle of nerves that was begging for attention the way you needed to, but oh, did it make your body shiver underneath him anyway. "You ran away so much already. Don't make me wait any longer."

You were trying to coax him, and the way his cock twitched against you was a clear indicator it was working. However, he had suddenly developed the patience of a saint as he gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "Forgive me, my love," he murmured softly, eyes returning to meet your face, soaking in that needy expression of yours. "Give me but a moment. My heart is beating so fast I am afraid I may faint. Actually, I am so happy I may just die," he corrected himself as he took your hand in his and brought it over his heart once more. You could feel his pulse. It was skittering underneath your hand and it soothed you, despite how fast it was. He claimed he could die, but that heart beat was real and Ferdinand was all yours. You turned it on him, instead dragging his hand to your chest, letting him feel the way your own heart was racing. He may have a better way of articulating that, but all in all you felt the same.

He understood that as his warm hand lingered on your skin. "You…." He opened his mouth to speak, but he had trouble finding the corrected words. His hand drifted downwards and he quickly positioned you so you were straddling on top of his thighs with his length position against your dripping entrance. He hunched his back, only so he could bury his face against your chest, getting a better listen of your driving pulse. It was that sound that coaxed out the rest of his words in such a hushed voice you barely caught it. He spoke in a whisper, as if anything louder would break the precious treasure he held in his hands. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

A sweet ecstasy shot through you as he finally pushed inside, prompting a sultry moan from your lips while your body squeezed around him. He clung onto your hips to hold you still as he deliberately thrust inside of you, diving in as deep as he could go. He wanted you close - as close as you could possibly be. Your name became a quiet mantra that he purred against you, his warm breath fanning over you skin. He wanted to get lost in your body, cave into the sensation of your warmth clamping down on him, sopping wet.

Your own body bounced and writhed on top of him as he picked up speed, his own feverish lust dictating the need for a faster pace. It caused the bed to creak underneath you, the sound accompanied by the slap of skin against skin. His hand snuck up your waist, instead tracing up your back until his fingers sprawled out on the back your shoulder. He used his arm to anchor you against him as he took over, wanting to let you pause work and instead bask in the feeling of every inch penetrating deep into your core. And as an aide, his other hand snaked between you bodies, sprawling out on your lower stomach for stability before his thumb grazed over that neglected clit of yours. The instant he began to play with it sent jolts of electricity bounding through you.

He wanted to burst, but being the proper gentleman he was, he held out. Besides, he held your pleasure far above his own. He wasn't going to leave this bedroom if you were unsatisfied. But judging by the coos and moans bubbling out of you, he was doing a splendid job of stretching out your gorgeous body. He fed off your reactions, letting your sounds and the way your thighs trembled around him guide his movement. His pleasure was climbing high with yours. "You feel so so good," he panted against you, his words of encouragement sending your heart fluttering as your head lobbed back. "Not even in my best dreams-" his words separated by pants and grunts, feeling the quiver around his cock as he pushed you closer to that edge "-could my thoughts begin to rival you and how…. Utterly outstanding you are."

There it was. The next deep thrust was punctuated with the pressure his thumb put onto your clit and it had you spiraling. You cried out for him, just as his own orgasm hit as well, sending a hot gush spreading through your body through your spasms. Euphoria danced through each of you as you clung to each other as if for dear life. He dropped your hips fully down over his, remaining buried inside of you while your both your highs ran their course through your system.

Your head dropped, resting onto his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling his hand slowly start to soothe over you back. He remained silent save for his own labored pants as he cradled your body close. Your name eventually got your attention, as his hand came to rest in your hair and you looked up at him with a glassy gaze he would remember for eternity. "I love you."

"And I love you, Ferdinand Von Aegir."

#FE3H #Fire Emblem #ferdinand von aegir #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fanfiction #Smut #MY TAGS ARE SHOWING UP YAY #anyway #plz read this #Im working on Lorenz next and attention motivates me #but also i worked hard on this sooooo #please?

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trendingtattoo · 4 years

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Why Do Tattoos Itch – What Is Causing My Itchy Tattoo?

Often people get itchy tattoos and the reason for that could be any from a natural healing process to a medical situation. Here in this post I am sharing with you the causes of itchy tattoo and treatment for the same.

Here we go…..

Our skin is the largest organ in the body that protect our body from outside or external attackers. But when a person gets a tattoo, it is internal, as the needle breaks the skin’s barrier to get in. Just like in the case of wound, in this case also, the skin begins its healing process. While healing process it is normal if you have an itchy tattoo, or if there is some redness, swelling etc. Because during healing a minor itching and other symptoms are normal.

Minor itching from a new tattoo usually go away on its own. But if there is a persistent itching or other symptoms on your new or old tattoo, you should definitely see a doctor.

Itchy Tattoo is Normal During Healing Process

It is normal to get a mild itching after getting a tattoo and during the healing process. A tattoo involves breaking of the skin, due to which the body heals itself and repair the wound the same way it does in the case of other cuts and scratches. Therefore, minor itching is part of the tattoo healing process. However, it is important that you keep an eye on your tattoo just to ensure proper healing. Because if you feel some other problem or if your itching gets worse, then it may be a sign that you need to visit your doctor.

Normal Healing Procedure

Once you get a tattoo, your skin naturally starts to form scabs and heal itself. While formation is scabs skin feel itchy that irritates. All you have to do is to control the urge to scratch, as scratching your new tattoo can cause more irritation and even lead to infection. Also, scratching can remove scabs too early, which may result in scarring. Not just that, scratching your tattoo can actually distort it, resulting to the ruined artwork. That’s the reason it is said that tattoo’s aftercare is a MUST and follow your tattoo artist’s instructions religiously. Usually the itching subsides in a week or two, still you need to:

Apply ointments or creams that is recommended by your tattoo artist.

Visit a doctor if your itchy tattoo gets worse.

This is in normal cases, but there are some other cases, wherein a person feels too much itching, which are not normal of course. What are those situations, let’s see……

What Is Causing The Itching?

Allergic Reaction on Tattoo

Some people even suffer allergic reactions to tattoo because of the ingredients present in a tattoo ink. Not necessarily an allergic reaction will occur immediately after getting the tattoo, sometimes an allergic reaction can occur months or years after getting a tattoo. Some people may develop an allergy due to a specific color of ink – old tattoo raised and itchy or itchy tattoo after a year. Though any color can cause an allergic reaction, but researches show that red ink causes the most allergic reactions.

And the reason for red causing more allergic reactions is – red tattoo pigments contain toxic metals, such as aluminum, calcium and iron. These metals probably trigger allergic reactions, like contact dermatitis. Besides, some medical procedures such as, HIV treatment or a joint replacement surgery, can also lead to an allergic reaction, even in an old tattoo.

Symptoms of a mild allergic reaction include:

Itching

Pimple-like bumps

Blisters

Redness

Flaking or crusting

Raised & scaly skin

Clear fluid coming from the tattoo

More often than not, a mild allergic reaction goes away on its own. But, if it does not get any better within a few days of its occurrence, it is recommended to see a doctor.

One can even suffer a severe allergic reaction, which can be life threatening. And if a person suffers a severe allergic reactions such as: dizziness, trouble breathing, hives, fast heart rate, severe swelling, and chest tightness, it is recommended that a person visit a doctor without losing a minute.

Tattoo Infection

Another reason for itchy tattoo is infection. Infection in a tattoo can occur due to the carelessness of your tattoo artist. Therefore, it is always recommended to go to a good tattoo studio. As, good tattoo studios ensure use of healthy tattooing procedures. It is important that a tattooist uses only sterile, single-use or sterilized, instruments. If he/she fails to do so, you are more likely to get a tattoo infection.

Tattooist using non-sterile instruments or ink can introduce bacteria or other harmful organisms into your skin. Also, it is important that the tattoo artist does not mix non-sterile ingredients into the ink, such as tap water. This can lead to severe infection. Therefore, it is crucial that you go to a good tattoo studio and ask them about their sterilization practices before you agree to get a tattoo there.

Symptoms of a tattoo infection include:

Redness on the area that spreads and gets worse

Red streaks on the skin where the tattoo is

Pain that does not get better

Itchy and painful red bumps on the skin

Fever

Chills

If you suffer any of these, it is advised that you visit your doctor, as without treatment, a tattoo infection can even get worse and can possibly spread throughout the body.

Tattoo Allergy due to Sun

Believe it or not, some people even tend to develop an allergic reaction to sunlight. Sun allergy can happen just after getting the tattoo, if you do not cover your tattoo. The moment one gets a tattoo, a tattoo artist tells him/her to keep his/her tattoo covered whenever he/she go out or avoid direct sunlight on their tattoos. It is because the sun exposure can cause sun allergy, which is not good for the tattoo.

Symptoms of an allergic reaction due to sun exposure include:

Blisters

Redness

Small, itchy bumps

Hives

Swelling

Therefore, avoid direct exposure to the sun after getting a tattoo. Keep the bandage on – that your tattooist has placed on your new tattoo for a few hours or the length of time your tattoo artist has advised. Also, for a few days you will need to cover your tattoo whenever you go out. Once your itchy tattoo is completely healed, use a water resistant sunscreen of SPF 30 or higher whenever you are outside. You can ask your tattoo artist for sunscreen recommendations. Make sure you do not apply sunscreen until your tattoo artist ask you to do so.

Ink contamination

Besides, some people even develop symptoms from tattoo ink that’s been contaminated. Once can get itchy tattoo even if the ink is labeled “sterile.”

MRI reactions

Sometimes one can even get an itchy tattoo due to MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) reactions. To diagnose certain health condition, doctors sometimes recommend MRI scans. In a rarest situations, an MRI scan can affect an old tattoo. Symptoms usually include itchiness along with swelling. However, reactions due to MRI scan go away on their own after sometime without any further medical intervention. Besides these, there are some medical conditions where one can have an itchy tattoo. Those conditions are:

Eczema

Eczema is a medical condition that causes inflamed, red, itchy, or cracked skin. There are a variety of responsible for eczema, including allergies, dryness, or irritants, such as fragrances. Tattoos do not trigger eczema. However, eczema could occur in the area where one has his/her tattoo even after a few months or years later.

So, people who already have eczema should speak to their doctors before they plan to get a tattoo. Also, they should speak to the tattoo artist about using inks for sensitive skin. Usually these tattoo studios provide aftercare instructions and an ointment for use during healing. But if they don’t, ask them for the same. If an eczema develops on or around a new tattoo, immediately ask your tattoo artist about moisturizers that will prevent interference of the condition with the new ink. Also, make sure you use only fragrance or alcohol free products on your tattooed skin. As, fragrances simply make eczema worse. Most importantly, visit a doctor if you do not get any relief.

Psoriasis

Psoriasis is an auto-immune disease, wherein the immune system attacks healthy skin cells. In this skin cells renew too quickly, which quite often results in red, scaly patches on the skin. These scales because of psoriasis are often itchy and painful. One of the known triggers of psoriasis is an injury to the skin. Studies show even small injuries, such as a needle prick from a vaccine, can even trigger psoriasis in some people.

And getting a tattoo involves too much use of a needle to pierce the skin, it is highly likely that one witness psoriasis after a tattoo. So, it is crucial that people who have a tattoo and have symptoms of psoriasis should visit a doctor. It is very much treatable with topical creams and other medications.

Sarcoidosis

Sarcoidosis is a condition that usually affects older tattoos. Like Psoriasis, it is also an auto-immune condition, which can occur decades later, and can even affect internal organs. While not necessarily directly related to tattoo ink, but Sarcoidosis is known to cause extreme itching and inflammation in old tattoos. So, one can even have itchy tattoo after years.

Skin cancer

It is another medical condition that can cause itchy tattoo. However, there is no direct link between tattoos and skin cancer. Skin cancer can appear anywhere on the skin, including the areas that have tattoos, and the symptom of skin cancer includes an itchy, reddish patch on the skin. If a person notices itching along with the changes to the skin in the area of a tattoo, they should immediately see a doctor for a skin cancer check.

People with pre-existing medical conditions should always take advice from their doctors before getting a tattoo. Also, it is very important that they ask their tattoo artists also about their practices, whether they use sterilized instrument or not.

Also Read: Tips To Avoid A Tattoo Infection

Treatment and when to see a doctor

Addressing the itchy tattoo will depend on the cause of the itching.

For instance, a person with pre-existing skin condition such as eczema or psoriasis may need to see a doctor to get treatment for these conditions. And an infection may require immediate medical care.

However, it is crucial that one follows proper aftercare procedure that allows a new tattoo to heal properly and quickly. Usually a person needs to:

Avoid scratching the tattoo

Avoid picking at scabs

Avoid scrubbing and using washcloths on the area of the tattoo.

Apply creams or ointments that are recommended by their tattoo artist.

Keep their creams or ointments in the refrigerator, as the cooling may help with itching

Avoid using any harsh or irritating or alcohol based products on the tattoo

Keep the tattoo protected from direct sun exposure.

Avoid bathing or swimming for a long time.

Take medicines for a mild allergic reaction.

In case if severe condition such as itching worsening, no improvement after a few weeks, redness increasing in severity, fever, oozing, severe swelling, scaling, etc. it is recommended to visit a doctor.

Final Verdict

An itchy tattoo is common, especially when it’s new. More often than not, the skin heals naturally by itself after a wound, and a tattoo is also a wound. Healing process usually causes itching, just like in case of any other wound.

Besides, people who experience continuous itching on their tattoo should try to identify the cause of the itchy tattoo and get the treatment accordingly. And if you find it getting worse, then visiting a doctor is wise.

Also, to avoid all these in the first place, it is always good to find out what type of hygiene standard a specific tattoo studio uses, before you step in the studio. Always make sure that the tattoo studio where you decide to get your tattoo design from practices the highest level of hygiene.

Getting your tattoo done by some random artists other than a professional tattoo artist is a big NO-NO. As, it can be highly unsafe for you. It is indispensable to have your tattoo done in a professional tattoo studio only, where there are sterile conditions, equipment, and professional tattoo artists who follow safe tattooing practices. Getting a tattoo from someone unprofessional can really be a dangerous practice that can even lead to itching, infection, allergy or any other severe condition.

Happy Tattooing!!

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cyclicallife · 4 years

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(This body of work makes me very proud!)

i have found that, over the years, i have become more and more incapable of fully expressing myself with words. i fancy myself a bit of a wordsmith, however when i re-read some of my writings, as proud as i am of them as individual pieces, i find that they are lacking something — some core piece that i have yet to extract. when looking back at my last entry, the one regarding my time in france and the subsequent “breakdown”, i wonder if that which i was trying to pull from my chest, it the substance which was within me, was not a metaphor for trying endlessly to put words to my feelings and emotions. in many ways this makes sense; i didn’t understand what it was then, but i am starting to consider this. since this occurrence i am being presented with dreams, little fragments of this one particular image. i am standing, open mouthed, releasing only air while pulling the stringy substance from my chest.

i have relied on art throughout the years — in fact for the majority of my life i have done so. i distinctly remember one pottery class i took when i was 7 or 8 years old. we crafted simple coil pots, glazed them and, at the next class looked at our finished works fresh from the kiln. when i was glazing mine i was spending the majority of my time on the inside of the piece. i remember not really paying attention to the work as a whole, but rather working with a sort of feverish intensity on the inside. i have such a vivid memory of painting and painting, glazing and glazing the inner walls of the coil pot. i wanted the walls and, even more o the bottom, to be, upon firing, smooth, glass-like. i recall the bottom of the pot had accumulated so much glaze that a tiny puddle forming.

of course i look back now and place all these ideas and theories on why i was doing so, what i was trying to convey, etc. a part of me can’t help but look into this, to study this, not the actual piece, god knows it was that of a child, but at my intention. now, after 6 years of formal art training, most of which consisted of getting my ass kicked when my work was being torn apart during critique sessions, i certainly can’t help myself. the beauty of child, in terms of expressing and creating, is that they don’t drag so much theory and conceptual nonsense into it; a drawing of a dog is just that, a drawing of a dog. a coil pot with a puddle of glaze at the bottom is just that… a coil pot with a puddle of glaze at the bottom it.

i wanted the inside to look good. i remember thinking this. there is no theory or conceptual bullshit attached, this is what i remember wanting to do; i was curious about how it would look post-firing. i was interested in how it might look to others, too; a coil pot with a bottom both rich in color (i chose a deep blue) and as smooth as glass.

most of the time i fumble for words. my sister and i have a back and forth about this; she wants me to talk and open up and express that which i need at this time in my life and how said needs can be met. i am left frustrated, trying to manage these emotions upon which i can’t place a label — even though i so desperately want to! even with my psychologist, with whom i’ve been working with on a weekly basis since diagnosis, i find myself lacking the appropriate words. often, we will spend many-a-sessions working through an emotion or thought and then, after a laborious undertaking, we find the words needed… or, rather, some of the words needed. more often then not i speak too quickly. not necessarily in terms of speed, though i did struggle with a stammer as a child as my brain was moving too fast and i couldn’t formulate the words to match the momentum. but i speak without forethought. i fire off a thought without considering how it will be taken or interpreted. this has fucked up more relationships … i cringe now at some of the things i’ve inadvertently said. they weren’t meant to be harsh or cruel, as this is never my intention, they were just unfiltered, unrefined, unpolished, rough-around-the-edges, etc. etc. in an attempt to understand someone or probe a bit to gather more information, i’ll muddle things up to the point of no repair. Equally, it is my hope to find the appropriate words to express my own thoughts or feelings. it’s as if i’m casting a line and doing so in realtime, hoping i’ll reel something in that closely resembles my current state of mind, my emotions. this, too, can end poorly; going along and sharing, prattling on, seeking words on the fly … …

then, boom!… the realization of my faux pas is crystal clear.

in my opinion this is getting worse. i asked my neurologist about various aspects of this in terms of toxicity (multiple chemo agents specifically designed to penetrate the blood/brain barrier) and other phsyiological damages to the actual brain tissue itself such as scar tissue, narcotic tissue, etc. not to mention all the psychological shifts that undoubtedly impair various parts of my overall being. his response was reassuring, but also slightly disheartening. “it’s no wonder you’re functioning as well as you are, jeremiah.”

these psychological (and emotional!) shifts are event, especially considering the recent experience in france and the “breakdown” i experienced there.

i am working on a series of self-portraits to which i do attach theory and concept. after the recent experiences in france, as well as all these experiences as a whole, i am left with so many emotions, almost all of which i can’t articulate. i am left with pain and other emotions i can’t share because i simply don’t have the words! it is my hope that these portraits might, in some small way, express all that i so desperately want to share. they are already revealing so much to me; bit by bit, line by line, things are emerging.

for the majority of my life i have relied on art in one way or another. now, more than ever, i am turning to it not only as a place of refuge during these times, but to aid in my understanding of self and expressing and communicating that which is just under the surface and in need of release.

that which is already being revealed to me through my work, these ink drawings, through these portraits, are little steps in the direction of further healing.

#portrait #self portrait #ink #ink drawing #art #artwork #Cancer #Testicular Cancer #American Cancer Society #Cancer Treatment #cancer survivor

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bzalma · 3 years

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When Other Insurance Clauses are not Repugnant They Are Applied as Written

Posted on March 12, 2021 by Barry Zalma

Policy Stated to be Excess Over Listed Other Insurance Is Truly Excess

Michael Darnell Wise suffered injuries while operating a forklift at work. While Mr. Wise was moving auto parts, the forklift fishtailed and fell from a loading dock or the ramp leading up to it, leaving Mr. Wise pinned beneath the forklift. At the time of the accident, Mr. Wise was working for Central Coast Distribution, LLC d/b/a Mighty Auto Parts. He was severely injured and eventually settled with defendants for $3.5 million paid by various insurers. Then, in St. Paul Fire And Marine Insurance Company v. Pennsylvania National Mutual Casualty Insurance Company, Case No. 2:19-cv-05471-JDW, United States District Court For The Eastern District Of Pennsylvania (March 8, 2021) St. Paul, as an excess insurer, attempted to be reimbursed for what it paid Mr. Wise from other insurers who were alleged to be primary to St. Paul’s excess insurance.

Read carefully, the words that the parties used when they entered into various contracts, including insurance contracts, clear away the tangle of arguments made by the parties and revealed a single path forward.

BACKGROUND

Pursuant to a Standard Form Industrial Building Lease (the “Lease”), Central Coast leased a warehouse from First Industrial, L.P. to conduct its business, in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The Lease gave Central Coast a leasehold over a specific portion of the warehouse and gave it access to common areas of the property, including “loading areas.” The Lease required both Central Coast and First Industrial to maintain insurance and included a waiver of subrogation provision that provided that each party shall cause its respective insurance policy(ies) to be endorsed to evidence compliance with a waiver of subrogation.

Central Coast’s Insurance Policies

Central Coast purchased two insurance policies from Penn National that are at issue. The first is a businessowner’s liability coverage policy, policy that has a liability limit of $1,000,000 per occurrence. Central Coast also purchased a commercial umbrella liability policy from Penn National, policy with a liability limit of $2,000,000 per occurrence (the “Penn National Umbrella Policy”).

First Industrial’s Insurance Policies

First Industrial also purchased two insurance policies that relate to the present dispute. It purchased a general liability policy from Federal Insurance Company (“FIC”) with a liability limit of $1,000,000 per occurrence. It also purchased a special commercial umbrella liability policy from St. Paul, (the “St. Paul Policy”). St. Paul agreed to pay on behalf of First Industrial “all sums in excess of the Retained Limit that [First Industrial] becomes legally obligated to pay as damages by reason of liability imposed by law … because of: Bodily Injury … that occurs during the Policy Period and is caused by an Occurrence[.]”

The St. Paul Policy has an “Other Insurance” provision that provides: “If Other Insurance applies to damages that are also covered by this policy, this policy will apply excess of, and shall not contribute with, that Other Insurance, whether it is primary, excess, contingent or on any other basis. However, this provision will not apply if the Other Insurance is specifically written to be excess of this policy.

The Underlying Personal Injury Action

At mediation, St. Paul and FIC reached a $3.5 million settlement of all of the claims that Mr. Wise asserted against First Industrial. St. Paul contributed $2.5 million towards that settlement, and FIC contributed $1 million.

The Present Action

On November 21, 2019, St. Paul brought this case against Penn National, seeking a declaratory judgment that Penn National had to indemnify First Industrial pursuant to the Penn National Policies and an award of all sums that St. Paul had paid to settle Mr. Wise’s claims against First Industrial.

DISCUSSION

Under Pennsylvania law, which the parties agree applies, the interpretation of an insurance policy is a question of law. Because First Industrial is an insured under the Penn National Primary Policy, it also qualifies as an insured under the Penn National Umbrella Policy, which lists the Penn National Primary Policy on its Schedule of Underlying Insurance.

Priority Of Coverage

Both the Penn National Umbrella Policy and the St. Paul Policy cover First Industrial for losses suffered as a result of bodily injury. And both include “other insurance” provisions that purport to make the policies excess of any other applicable insurance. Because both clauses are excess clauses that apply here, the Court must determine whether it can reconcile those provisions or whether they are mutually exclusive.

Courts must reconcile competing other insurance clauses when it is possible to do so. A court can reconcile policy provisions if it can give effect to both provisions at once. Excess clauses are mutually repugnant where following the express dictates of one policy would be in direct conflict with the dictates of the other. If the policies are repugnant, the Court must disregard the excess clauses, deem them stricken, and order the insurers to share the loss.

The Court can reconcile the “other insurance” clauses in the two policies here, so they are not mutually repugnant. Each policy provides that the “other insurance” provision “will not apply” to insurance that is “specifically written as excess over” the policy in question. The St. Paul Policy obligates it to pay losses in excess of any scheduled insurance or “Other Insurance,” and “Other Insurance is “any insurance providing coverage for damages covered in whole or in part by this policy.” The St. Paul Policy was, therefore, specifically written in excess of both the FIC Policy, which is on a schedule of underlying insurance, and the two Penn National Policies, which fall within the St. Paul Policy’s definition of “Other Insurance.” This difference allows the Court to reconcile the “other insurance” provisions in the two policies without placing them in direct conflict. The result is that the Penn National Primary Policy and the Penn National Umbrella Policy apply before the St. Paul Policy applies.

Amount Of Penn National’s Obligation

FIC paid $1 million of First Industrial’s settlement with Mr. Wise, and that amount is not at issue here. That leaves $2.5 million that St. Paul paid at issue. The Penn National Primary Policy applies to First Industrial’s settlement with Mr. Wise because Mr. Wise’s claim against First Industrial was obligated to pay damages to Mr. Wise as a result of bodily injury. It offers $1 million in coverage. The Penn National Umbrella Policy applies for the same reason. It offers an additional $2 million in coverage, which is enough to cover the remaining $1.5 million. As a result, Penn National must reimburse St. Paul the full $2.5 million that St. Paul contributed to the settlement.

Penn National had a duty to defend and indemnify its insured, First Industrial. It did not do so, but St. Paul did. Now, St. Paul is entitled to summary judgment and to recoup the amounts it paid on behalf of Penn National’s insured. An appropriate Order follows.

ZALMA OPINION

Other insurance clauses often, as they did in this case, cause disputes that must be resolved by litigation. Since St. Paul’s policy was clearly excess over Penn National’s direct presentation of primary coverage, it was obligated to spend up to its available limits to resolve the case against its insured. It did nothing, offered nothing, and let St. Paul and FIC to fund the settlement to protect the insured. Once the insured was protected St. Paul sued and appropriately recovered its payment from the responsible insurer. Justice was done because the insured was protected and the only dispute was which insurer owed what to whom.

Barry Zalma, Esq., CFE, now limits his practice to service as an insurance consultant specializing in insurance coverage, insurance claims handling, insurance bad faith and insurance fraud almost equally for insurers and policyholders. He also serves as an arbitrator or mediator for insurance related disputes. He practiced law in California for more than 44 years as an insurance coverage and claims handling lawyer and more than 52 years in the insurance business. He is available at http://www.zalma.com and [email protected].

Mr. Zalma is the first recipient of the first annual Claims Magazine/ACE Legend Award.

Over the last 53 years Barry Zalma has dedicated his life to insurance, insurance claims and the need to defeat insurance fraud. He has created the following library of books and other materials to make it possible for insurers and their claims staff to become insurance claims professionals.

Go to the podcast Zalma On Insurance at https://anchor.fm/barry-zalma; Follow Mr. Zalma on Twitter at https://twitter.com/bzalma; Go to Barry Zalma videos at Rumble.com at https://rumble.com/c/c-262921; Go to Barry Zalma on YouTube- https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCysiZklEtxZsSF9DfC0Expg; Go to the Insurance Claims Library – https://zalma.com/blog/insurance-claims-library/ Read posts from Barry Zalma at https://parler.com/profile/Zalma/posts; and Read last two issues of ZIFL here.

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