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teaplease1717 · 3 years

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TodoMomo Fic Recs

Okay! I've wanted to do this for a while now, so I’m excited that I finally got around to doing it - here is a list of my favorite fics! But, to do a spin on it, I'm only naming lesser known fics with kudos count below 200.

In order by rating and word count, because I’m finicky like that. Also, all are complete unless noted otherwise.

EDIT: Updated 7/11/2021

G Rated Fics:

1. Shouto Todoroki is Fond of the New Recovery Girl by llmm

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Comedy

Rated: G

Word Count: 715

Summary: Short and super cute. Momo has her quirked switched with Recovery Girl, and now that she is in charge of nurse duty it seems Todo has become a frequent visitor.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260573

2. Water and Late Night Snack by LuceCannon21

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Comedy

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,112

Summary: Sweet and fluffy. Todo can’t sleep and goes down to the kitchen where he finds Momo passed out on the couch. He wakes her to go back to bed when some cute fluff ensues.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987584

3. Five Golden Rings by Mickey_Bay

Genre: Canon / Fluffy

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,222

Summary: Super sweet and fluffy. Shouto is looking for the perfect ring for Momo and needs some help.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28173669

4. Straight ahead to the Morning Light by Milktea_S

Genre: Canon / Fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,372

Summary: TodoMomo have their first date and it doesn’t go quite as planned. But is well that ends well, especially with how sweet Todo is.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28332045

5. i hate the things that are sweet by kuyashii

Genre: Canon divergence / Falling in love

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,850

Summary: Loved this "what if" scenario! I'm always a fan of early-roki and him falling for Momo regardless is so cute. Excellent execution and beautiful writing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025641

6. Cold Hands and Hot Cocoa by Purple_Umbrella

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Slice of Life

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,859

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Todoroki and Yaoyorozu go out for hot chocolate. So adorable, melted my heart.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690295

7. Topsy Turvy by Purple_Umbrella

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Slice of Life

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,011

Summary: Such a light and feel good piece. It totally threw me back to my first days of college, when kids tried to learn to wash their clothes by themselves. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22801825

8. Bottled Tea by Taq

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Slice of Life

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,177

Summary: Todoroki gets a little competitive with the guys who keep asking Momo out. Very cute. I love how oblivious Todoroki is to his feelings. TodoMomo are very in character.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468132

9. Call Me, Beep Me by Voidstuff (Schadenfreudah)

Genre: Canon / Aged-Up / Falling in Love

Rated: G

Word Count: 4,138

Summary: Aged up characters. Todoroki and Momo are still bad with feelings which provides a tiny bit of angst but I love how smitten Todoroki is with Momo and how hard he tries.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447463

10. Lucky Shot by Poteto

Genre: Fluff / Slice of Life

Rating: Alternate Universe / Fluff / No quirks

Word Count: 5,892

Summary: Todoroki falls in love with the girl at his local coffee shop, while also developing feelings for a mysterious girl he had texted by accident. Cute & wonderfully written.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794683

11. Uhm, a scandal? by lapeace

Genre: Romance / Pining / Fluff

Rated: G

Word Count: 8,613 (Incomplete)

Summary: Due to events, Shouto and Momo are caught in a compromising position. Now Shouto is losing his mind as he waits for the scandal to die on its own. He hadn't seen Yaoyorozu in person for 36 days now. Yes, he counted. Not only was Yaoyorozu present in various news and social media outlets, she is also present in Shouto's head most of the time.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706769/chapters/70382067#workskin

12. half sugar, less ice by milktea_s

Genre: Alternate Universe / Fluff / Slice of Life

Rated: G

Word Count: 12,590

Summary: A super sweet AU fic revolving around bubble tea. It's so fluffy and sweet and I love the slow development between TodoMomo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25235563

13. Softly i entered (into your arms) by wanderinglilly

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / Touch Your Heart crossover (Ongoing)

Rating: G

Word Count: 27,800

Summary: Super cute! Momo is an aspiring actress and for an upcoming role agrees to intern under Lawyer Todoroki for experience. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818620/chapters/60028774

14. Would You Be My Little Quarantine by Revaliciousness

Genre: Canon / Angst / Fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 28,197

Summary: So adorable and relatable! Momo is having a hard time dealing with quarantine and Todo just wants to be a good bf. Wonderfully written w/ a fantastic use of action tags.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25069909/chapters/60724162

T Rated Fics:

1. Why’d you only call me when you’re high by slutpjms

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / Drug use / Slight OOC

Rating: T

Word Count: 974

Summary: Todoroki is a pothead, who comes to hangout in Momo’s room one night. Slight ooc TodoMomo but I loved the feeling of this. The kiss was hot.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559442

2. I’ve loved you here, in the curve of your jaw by Dewthreads

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / Slice of Life / No Quirks

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,406

Summary: So soft with fantastic banter! The author does a fantastic job capturing the love and adoration in TodoMomo’s relationship.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329918

3. Totally Definitely Legit Leaked BNHA Valentine’s Day Light Novel Spoilers by DrowClericofPelor

Genre: Canon / Comedy / Falling in Love (Warning: Slight BakuKiri)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,957

Summary: A fake take on a valentine’s day BNHA special. It really captures the slice of life and comedy atmosphere of the BNHA light novels. Really enjoyed this quick read.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667124

4. Steep by aaillemac

Genre: Canon / Fluff / Comfort

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,365

Summary: Set after chapter 192 Todo meets Momo in the library and she comforts him. Very cute and wholesome.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437871

5. Long Enough by CrazyElf2018

Genre: Canon / Romance

Rated: T

Word Count: 2,453

Summary: Momo may be angry when Todo overreacts to minor injuries she receives on the job, but I love how protective and stubborn he is when it comes to her. And the understanding between them melts my heart.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653461

6. Exposure by flourchildwrites

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / No Quirks

Rated: T

Word Count: 2,785

Summary: Beautiful AU in which Todo is a photographer and Momo is a model. The author has some beautiful lines and the obvious attraction between TodoMomo is so good.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695194

7. Room of Requirement by Yanmi

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / HP crossover

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,163

Summary: This was absolutely breathtaking. The writing is beautiful, and really captures the magic of HP and of falling in love while keeping TodoMomo in character.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16694782

8. Secret by H4sb33n

Genre: Canon / Romance / Slight Angst

Rated: T+

Word Count: 3,653

Summary: Very hot. It never goes NSFW, but I love the slow buildup and the desire that grows between them. Todo's internal conflict about taking it further is amazing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14951660

9. Say You Won't Let Go by KiyWinchester

Genre: Canon / Aged-Up / Angst

Rated: T

Word Count: 4,878

Summary: Aged up characters. In which Shouto & Momo reunite after two years of avoidance & try to reconcile in order to salvage their "friendship". Beautifully written and very heart wrenching. Shouto is just so madly in love with Momo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664882

10. On the Ninth Day by Huixin

Genre: Alternate Universe / Hurt / Comfort / Apocalypse

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,980

Summary: This isn’t exactly a straight TodoMomo romance, but you can feel the bond between the two is so strong. Beautiful imagery and fantastic world building.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24570979

11. I might as well confess (i love you) by ionica01

Genre: Canon / Marriage / Fluff

Rating: T

Word Count: 7,028

Summary: Super sweet and fluffy. I love how organic TodoMomo's relationship feels.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27575102

12. Making Tea in a Winter Storm by TheThirdHeart

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / Quirkless Momo AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 9,083

Summary: AU in which Momo is born quirkless and falls in love with Pro Hero Shouto. This was beautifully written with wonderful pacing and characterization.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477068

13. Take all my time by taq

Genre: Canon / Hurt / Comfort / Angst / Pining

Rating: T

Word Count: 9,495

Summary: Beautiful and painful. The angst and suspense is so good. And the mutual pining isn't over the top, it fits them so well.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881591

14. August slipped away (into a moment in time) by hollandroden

Genre: Alternate Universe / No Quirks / Modern / Angst / Romance

Rating: T

Word Count: 9,797

Summary: Momo's entire life has been planned out for her, she'll be married to a man she might love one day because her parents demand it. But then she meets Shoto Todoroki and the path laid out for her is no longer clear. I love Momo’s break out from expectations.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832749

15. She Likes Flowers by ShipSeekingShippers

Genre: Alternate Universe / Fluff / AU Modern

Rating: T

Word Count: 10,322

Summary: Todoroki falls in love with the flower shop girl. Beautiful writing and the fluff just pulled at all my heart strings.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204930

16. A Promise of Always by Purple Umbrella

Genre: Alternate Universe / Fantasy / Royalty / Romance / Bitter Sweet Ending

Rating: T

Word Count: 12,494

Summary: A cursed prince locked in a tower. A beautiful knight with a bounty on her head. Together, they escape into the thicket of the forest.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141480/chapters/60917506

M & E Rated Fics:

1. Fantasies by Nemuritai

Genre: Canon / Smut / Self-pleasure / Dom/Sub Undertones

Rating: E

Word Count: 955

Summary: Short but super hot take on Momo’s dirty fantasies.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26926033

2. Play with Fire by Alexisoak

Genre: Alternate Universe / Smut / Dom/Sub Undertones / Mafia

Rating: E

Word Count: 2,644

Summary: Todoroki is the top hitman for the Yaoyorozu mafia clan, and the princess of the clan has her sights on him. Hot! Hot! Hot! The smut in this was just fantastic.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922898

3. Dark Reflection by EmeraldWaves

Genre: Canon Divergence / Traitor Todoroki / Angst / Hurt / Dark / No Smut

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,825

Summary: Haunting. This is absolutely beautiful and the descriptions are so vivid.

Note: this is dark. Also, this is the only fic here that isn’t really TodoMomo.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687971

4. Good Vibes Good Times by FrenchK

Genre: Alternate Universe / Romance / Smut

Rating: E

Word Count: 3,735

Summary: Momo is dared to wear vibrating underwear to the club and chaos ensues.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522220

5. All’s Fair by Flourchildwrites

Genre: Alternate Universe / Smut / Quirkless Au / Mutual Pining

Rating: E

Word Count: 8,277

Summary: Momo is a star being stocked and Todoroki is her live in bodyguard. Lockdown during covid temptation flairs and someone has to give. Very nicely written.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545503

6. Half Loved by ZEROxxx

Genre: Alternate Universe / Fantasy / Royalty / Romance / Enemies to Lovers / Contract Marriage

Rating: M

Word Count 12,272 (Incomplete)

Summary: Momo is a princess tasked with guarding the creation stones. In order to protect those she loves and the cores, she enters a political, loveless marriage with Prince Shoto.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589946/chapters/56602531

7. More Wonders Are Yet to Come by Earthquake_Priestess

Genre: Canon / Romance / Family Bonding

Rating: M

Word Count: 57,754

Summary: This is adorable and really well written. I'm not usually into family fics (like at all) but this one does a really good job and isn't cheesy.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091252/chapters/66150892#workskin

8. The Cursed of the Fallen by Reverly in the Dark

Genre: Alternate Universe / Fantasy / Action / Adventure / No Smut

Rating: M

Word Count: 240,755 (Incomplete)

Summary: This is an action adventure story. Shouto is a mage destined to defeat the Archdemon summoned to bring down the kingdom. Momo, Midoriya and the others are all from different walks of life who come together to help Shouto defeat the threat to the kingdom.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748893/chapters/54358150

#todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #Yaoyorozu Momo #todomomo #todomomo fanfiction #todoroki x yaoyorozu #my recs #fic recs

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lee-scribbles-and-doodles · 3 years

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My Top Ten Overlooked Movies With Female Leads In No Particular Order

Note: When you see this emoji (⚠️) I will be talking about things people may find triggering, which are spoilery more often then not. I mention things that I think may count as triggers so that people with them will be aware before going in to watch any of these.

Edited: 3/16/21

Hanna (2011)

So, before I get into why you should watch this movie, I just want to take a moment to say why it's near and dear to my heart. Growing up as a queer kid in the early 2000s, seeing portrayals of people like or similar to myself on anything was rare at best. It was mostly in more "adult" movies or shows that my parents would occasionally let me watch with them that I'd see any lgbtq+ rep at all. Often times they were either walking stereotypes, designed to be buried, evil, or all three.

Then here comes this PG-13 action thriller with a wonderfully written main female lead who, at the time, was close to my age, and who got to kiss another girl (her very first friend, Sophie) on screen in an extremely tender and heartwarming scene. To say the least, it was a life changing moment for me personally.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way, Hanna is a suspenseful movie about a child super-soldier named, you guessed it, Hanna (played by Saoirse Ronan) and her adoptive (?) father Erik Heller (played by Eric Bana) exiting the snowy and isolated wilderness of their home and taking on the shadowy CIA operative, Marissa Wiegler (played by Cate Blanchette) who wants Erik dead and Hanna for herself for mysterious reasons.

It also has an amazing soundtrack by the Chemical Brothers, great action scenes, and it has an over arching fairytale motif, which I'm always a sucker for.

⚠️ Mild blood effects, some painful looking strikes, various character deaths, and child endangerment all feature in this film. However, given its PG-13 rating, a majority of viewers are presumably able to handle this one. Still, be aware of these going in.

Sidenote: It's recently gotten a TV adaptation on Amazon TV, although I have not watched it, and do not know if Hanna and Sophie's romantic/semi-romantic relationship has transferred over.

A Simple Favor

A Simple Favor is a "black-comedy mystery thriller" centered entirely around the relationship between two mothers, the reclusive, rich, mysterious, and regal Emily (played by Blake Lively), and the local recently widowed but plucky mommy blogger, Stephanie (played by Anna Kendrick). When Emily suddenly goes missing, Stephanie takes it upon herself to find out what happened to her new best friend.

It's a fantastic and entertaining movie throughout, with fun, flawed and interesting characters. The relationship between the two female leads is also implied to be at least somewhat romantic in nature, and they even share a kiss.

⚠️ The only major warnings I can think of is that the movie contains an instance of incest and one of the main plotlines revolves around child abuse, although both of these potentially triggering topics are not connected to each other, so there is thankfully no csa going on.

Edit: I legitimately forgot there was drug use in this movie until now. So, yeah, if that's a trigger, be careful of that.

I Am Mother

I became mildly obsessed with this movie when it came out. I Am Mother is a sci-fi film that centers entirely around a cast of two woman, and a female-adjacent robot who is brought to life on screen with absolutely amazing practical effects.

The plot is such, after an extinction-level event, a lone robot known only as Mother tasks herself with replenishing the human race via artifical means. She begins with the film's main protagonist, Daughter. Years go by as Mother raises her human child and the two prepare for Daughter's first sibling (a brother) to be born. However, on Daughter's 16th birthday, the arrival of an outsider known only as Woman shakes Daughter's entire world view. She begins to question Mother's very nature, as well as what's really going on outside the bunker she and her caretaker call home.

⚠️ This movie features child endangerment and reference to child death.

Lilo and Stitch

When I decided to add a single Disney film to this list I initially thought it was going to be hard but almost immediately my brain went to Lilo and Stitch, and specifically about the relationship between Lilo and Nani.

On the surface, this film is about a lonely little girl accidentally adopting a fugitive alien creature as a "dog," but underneath that the story is also about two orphaned sisters and the older sister's attempts to not let social services tear them apart by stepping up as the younger sister's primary guardian. Despite its seemingly goofy premise, Lilo and Stitch has a very emotional and thoughtful center. It's little wonder how this movie managed to spawn an entire franchise.

Despite the franchise it spawned (or possibly because of it), I often find that Lilo and Stitch is overlooked and many people only remember it for the "little girl adopts an alien as a pet" portion of its plot, and I very rarely see it on people's top 10 Disney lists.

⚠️ This movie could be potentially triggering to people who were separated from their siblings or other family members due to social service intervention. There's also a bit of child endangerment, including a scene where Lilo and Stitch both almost drown.

Nausicaä and the Valley of the Wind

Unlike the above entry, I did struggle a little bit with picking a single Studio Ghibli film. Most media of the Ghibli catalogue have strong, well-written, unique, and interesting female leads so selecting just one seemed like quite the task.

However, I eventually settled on this particular film. In recent months, Princess Nausicaä has become my absolute favorite Ghibli protagonist and I'm absolutely enchanted by the world she lives in.

Set in a post-apocalyptic world overun by giant insects and under threat of a toxic forest and its poisoness spores, Nausicaä must try to protect the Valley of the Wind from invaders as she also tries to understand the science behind the toxic forest and attempts to bridge the gap between the insects and the humans.

For those who have never seen the film, I think Nausicaä's personality can best be described as being similar to OT Luke Skywalker. Both are caring, compassionate, and gentle souls who are able to see the best in nearly anyone or anything. She's an absolutely enthralling protagonist and after rewatching the film again for the first time in well over a decade she has easily become one of my all time favorite protagonists.

Whenever I see people talk about Ghibli films, they rarely mention this one, and when they do mention it, it's often in passing. In my opinion it's a must watch.

⚠️ This movie contains some blood, and the folks who either don't like insects or who have entomophobia may not appreciate the giant bugs running about throughout the movie. (Although most insects do not directly relate to real life bugs, and are fantasy creatures).

A Silent Voice

A Silent Voice is an animated movie adaptation of a manga of the same name. While I've never had the pleasure to read the manga, the movie is phenomenal. It covers topics such a bullying, living in the world with a disability, the desire for atonement, social anxiety, and depression in a well thought out manner that ties itself together through the progression of the relationship between its two leads, Shoya and Shouko. It's also beautifully animated. Although very popular among anime viewers, I've noticed that it's often overlooked by people who watch little to no anime. So I suppose this is me urging non-anime viewers to give this film a chance.

⚠️ As mentioned above, the movie deals with bullying, anxiety, and depression (with this last one including suicidal thoughts and behaviour). If discussion of those topics are triggering to you, than you may want to proceed with caution or skip this movie all together.

In This Corner of The World

Another manga adaptation, this one taking place during WWII-era Japan. In This Corner of The World follows the life of a civilian Japanese woman, Suzu Urano, as she navigates simply living and her new marriage as the wartime invades nearly all aspects of everyday life. I think this movie is a good representation of what it must be like to be living as civilian in a country at war where the fight is sometimes fought on one's own soil. It was also an interesting look into pre-50s Japanese culture in my opinion. It's also beautifully animated featuring an art style I don't see often.

Despite it being well known among anime fans, I never really see it be brought up, even among said anime fans themselves.

Side note: I've seen many WWII dramas centering around civilians but they've almost always been about American or UK civilians. This was the first movie I'd seen that features the perspective of a Japanese civilain.

⚠️ Features the death of a child and limb loss. There's also a disturbing scene featuring a victim of one of the atomic bombs near the end.

Wolf Children: Ame and Yuki

This film follows Hana, a Japan-native woman who fell in love with a magical shape-shifting wolf-man, and her trials with raising their children, who can also magically shape-shift into wolves, on her own. It's a very heartfelt movie about a mother's love and the struggles of doing right by your children when you have limited resources to actively guide and care for them. All the characters feel unique and alive in my opinion. Also, the animation is so good that my sister and I initially mistook it for a Ghibli film.

Again, like the previous two anime entries, I don't see it ever brought up outside of anime circles.

⚠️ There's some child endangerment present in the film, although none of it is the fault of Hana as far as I can remember.

Roman Holiday

Roman Holiday is about the fictional Princess Ann (played by Audrey Hepburn), who while on a whirlwind tour of Europe, finally reaches her breaking point over having her entire life be one big schedule and all her words and actions being rehearsed. In the spur of the moment, she runs away in hopes of experiencing what life is like for other women. Unfortunately, she was previously given a sedative, meaning she doesn't get too far before it takes effect. Fortunately, she is found by the kind reporter Joe Bradley (played by Gregory Peck). Believing her to be drunk and unable to get an address from her (because she has none) he ends up taking her home for safety's sake and allows her to sleep off her suppose drunken stupor. The next day, he realizes who she is, and decides to take her on a fun sight seeing trip across Rome in hopes of getting the big scoop. Along the way, they begin to fall for each other.

This is my favorite black and white, old romance film. I think the relationship between the main characters is absolutely beautiful and I have a lot of fun watching it.

⚠️ I'm not entirely sure what kind of warning this film would need. However, it was released in 1953, so values dissonance will probably be at play for many viewers to at least some extent. For example, early in the film Ann is given sedation drugs by her doctor for her behavior, something that is very unlikely to happen today. Also, Mr Bradley deciding to take Ann home to keep her safe rather than call the police or an ambulance is a very pre-90s decision in my opinion.

#hanna 2011 #a simple favor #i am mother #lilo and stitch #nausicaä of the valley of the wind #a silent voice #in this corner of the world #wolf chilren ame and yuki #wolf children #roman holiday #black and white film #anime #disney #studio ghibli #movie recs #top 10

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shiroandblack · 3 years

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Finwë, the Progenitor of the 'Fins'

[Disclaimer: what you are about to read are basically my thoughts and interpretation of Finwë. So if you have different thoughts and opinions that's perfectly fine]

Oh, and I'm totally not doing this because I'm procrastinating on the Fëanor thought-vomit I have going on in my head. Pfft, absolutely not!

Finwë, High King of the Noldor, Daddy to Fëanor, Findis, Fingolfin, Lalwen, and Finarfin (not that kind of daddy, get yer minds out of the gutter), husband to both Míriel and Indis, the Ned Stark of the Silmarillion, (depending on who you ask) the Fin to Elu's Finelwë -

I should stop.

First of all, we have no idea where this guy came from (I think?). He just suddenly popped out as an ambassador who basically went out with his buddies (OG Goldilocks and Tall Boy) to scout Valinor and see if the elves should move there or not. Prior to that, Finwë is not mentioned anywhere. People are generally divided if he was Tata's son as was Ingwë being Imin's son and Elwë being Enel' or if he's Unbegotten. Some also headcanon him as an orphan with his parents gone via Morgoth Kidnapping which was why he was chosen as an ambassador. I mean, magical guy on horse saying he'll take their society somewhere? I wouldn't really send the heirs or chieftains, I'd send someone competent enough to be a diplomat but ultimately no great loss to the tribal society of Cuiviénen (my god did I spell that right) if magical guy does pull a Dark Rider. Personally I do think that if he was indeed an orphan, it would explain some things in particular, like his want for many children and just a big family in general.

Anyways, the three go on their joy trip to Valinor and come back and go like "come, come, there are two pretty trees and no Dark Rider". I personally would have gone because of the no Dark Rider part but hey, if you like shiny, glowing trees and that's your main motivation, no judgement. Right after that, we don't know what happens to Imin, Tata, or Enel. Working on the assumption that the three are different people to the three '-wë's then they could have become Avari since the Avari are Tatyar and Nelyar. Interestingly, the Minyar all go and there is no more mention of Imin despite he was chieftain of all chieftains and then suddenly Ingwë is High King of all Elves? I'm gonna go with @squirrelwrangler's Klingon route here from their story 'Of Ingwë Ingweron' because I think there should be more depth to Ingwë and on a completely irrelevant note I have had a crush on 'the boy who would be Ingwë' since I started reading. You probably didn't need to know that, but now you do :)

(As you can see, I'm being very objective.)

BACK TO THE MAIN POINT. THIS IS A POST ABOUT FINWË. So anyways, the Great Journey happened and for some reason he and Elwë decide to meet up in a forest to do what nobody knows. Anyways, Elwë got skadooshed by Melian and Finwë went to Aman forever regretting the fact that he never got to do Elwë - I MEAN DO WHATEVER HE AND ELWË PLANNED in the woods of Nan Elmoth.

There he got married. Now, this is where I actually stop making fun of Finwë (yeah, no) and give you my interpretations and analysis which none of you have asked for but I'm doing anyways. So right off the bat, even when Míriel is obviously tired from giving birth to the baby who is his own crematorium - sorry, I meant Fëanàro - Finwë goes like "oh he's so pretty, I'm sure our other kids will be just as pretty". Which goes to show us that Finwë likely wanted an armada of kids right from the start. Y'all know what happens next. Point is, Míriel's dead and gone and Finwë is understandably a Sad Boy™.

Now, he also exhibits a certain impatient streak after Míriel dies. Surely he knew that the more he bothered Míriel about "hey, when are you gonna come back?" the more obstinate Míriel would be about not returning. I say he is impatient because he is an elf. He technically has all the time in Arda to wait for Míriel to return, but curiously he doesn't wait. Now, Fëanor was born in YT 1169 and Fingolfin in YT 1190 and since one YT is about 10 solar years (I'm pretty sure it's 9.8 years ish but I suck at maths so please have mercy on me) that means that Fëanor was around 200 years old when Fingolfin was born and we know Findis is elder. 200 years for an elf is not long at all, hell to the elven perception of time Finwë marrying Indis is probably like someone going out dating after 40 days of abstinence after a break up. This means that he married Indis relatively quickly after Míriel died, which shows that he was very eager for the marriage to happen.

Why? Was it because he knew Míriel wouldn't return for a very long time? Or was it because he wanted more kids? Or maybe that impatience is just intrinsic to Finwë's character? I actually don't know what to make of his motivations regarding this, so I'd love to hear anyone's opinions.

Finwë supposedly fell in love with Indis when he was going to visit Ingwë and saw her singing and the light was golden and Indis glowed and yeah. Prior to that, they most likely met in Tirion or even in Cuiviénen as Indis was close kin to Ingwë so I highly doubt that this was their first meeting and Indis was in love with Finwë since the early days of when the Vanyar and Noldor still stayed together in Tirion. This does make me wonder that even when Finwë was married to Míriel, were there seeds of feelings towards Indis? No, I am not saying he had an affair with Indis while married to Míriel, but you can feel attracted to someone even while married to another. But considering Finwë's favouritism towards Fëanor, I don't think this was the case and he probably began falling in love with Indis when he saw her singing and being basked in golden light. I do wonder what would have happened if he saw her picking her nose instead but hey, elves don't pick their noses in the Silm because all the nose dirt is removed by the sheer amount of times they must've cried in the First Age. Snotty crying ftw.

Many people in-universe seem to think that his second marriage was a mistake, but I do not think his marriage per say was a mistake. To me Finwë had the right to move on from Míriel, but what I don't agree with was that the Valar basically locked her up in Mandos for eternity. But this is a point of conflict that I feel I should address in a separate post about the Valar. In any case, what I think was the mistake was Finwë's impactful favouritism of Fëanor and his failure to reconcile Fëanor and his children by Indis. As there are a lot of external factors to him being unable to make his kids get along, I will be focusing more on the negative effects of his favouritism.

Finwë's marriage to Indis seems almost like a spontaneous decision, I don't think he actually sat Fëanor down and explained things to him quite well. After all, in Fëanor's mind Indis is the reason his mother is forever dead which is not really the case. Finwë wanted to marry Indis and Indis wanted to marry Finwë. It takes two to make the relationship work, after all. But despite Indis giving him what he wanted which is more children and a big family in general, Finwë still favoured Fëanor. Now I do get favouritism because everyone has favourites, but Finwë's favouritism only served to create more strife between Fëanor and Fingolfin. With one child, he lavishes praise and attention to the point that it's detrimental to Fëanor's growth as a person and with the other children, Fingolfin felt ignored enough to tailor his entire life into proving that he is more worthy to be Finwë's heir to - for a lack of better word - get his father to look at him the same way Finwë looks at Fëanor.

I don't doubt that Finwë loved his kids. I think he did love both Fëanor and his children by Indis, but the thing is . . . his actions always show that he loved Fëanor more. And I think that must have been devastating for his other children and what was the worst in my opinion is that Finwë doesn't seem to realise this. This could be a form of selective ignorance on Finwë's part or it could simply be that Finwë felt that he was giving equal attention to his children and that Fëanor needed more attention because he didn't have a mother. This is a logical thought process for him, but just because something seems logical it doesn't mean it's the right thing. Personally, I think Finwë's feelings towards Fëanor revolve around love and guilt and that guilt over denying Fëanor a birth mother makes him put Fëanor on a pedestal above his other children.

Now I'm gonna dive in to the circumstances up to his death. Prior to the infamous 'point-a-sword-at-traitorous-half brother' incident, the Noldor already had factions brewing under each of Finwë's sons. Which means that there were different groups supporting different sons (I'm just gonna give this quick glance because Noldorin elf politics and succession matters requires its own post honestly), both Fëanor and Fingolfin's group were advocating for these two princes to be Finwë's heir while Finarfin's most likely stayed neutral as throughout the text Finarfin has shown no real desire for kingship as his brothers (well, little did he know that his mother-name would come true in an arguably sad way). What is very interesting is the fact that Fingolfin thought he could be king after Finwë to begin with, which suggests to me that Finwë hadn't formally declared an heir. Usually it is assumed that the eldest son is heir and there would be no formal declaration needed, but the thing is Finwë had sons by a different queen and what's more is Fingolfin and Finarfin were the children of the ruling queen. Why he didn't do a formal declaration, I do wonder, because while it may have embittered Fingolfin for awhile I do think that if Fëanor had been assured of his position then maybe the two could have had some semblance of a healthy relationship. Maybe he viewed it as causing a greater rift between his children?

Now we finally get on to the sword pulling incident. We all know what happens, so I'll just skip on to the aftermath. Fëanor is exiled by Manwë, Finwë views this as an insult to his authority. I do agree that this can be viewed as that because as a Noldo, Fëanor should answer to the king of the Noldor and Manwë is exiling someone who is not his subject. But the thing is, Finwë probably wasn't going to really punish him and that's why Manwë stepped in. Hell, we have no evidence of a trial going on for what Fëanor did. But the thing is, this isn't just a regular Fëanor and Fingolfin screaming match this was Fëanor actually threatening harm to Fingolfin in front of everyone. The guy literally sashayed into the room, wearing armour and drew a sword. This must have been the equivalent of a bank robber drawing out a loaded gun to the elves.

Anyways, ya know what good ol' Finwë did to protest against Manwë's interference and Fëanor getting exiled -

He incited the Fourth Shinobi War -

No, he just yeeted off with Fëanor. Look guys, I have neutral feelings towards Fingolfin I mean he is no victim (in general) because he has done some pretty presumptuous things (which is what makes him interesting, let's be honest), but I have never ever felt so bad for him before. Hell, this is an even worse 'fuck you' then making him cross the Helcaraxë because Fingolfin's main motivation in life thus far is probably to be equal to Fëanor in Finwë's eyes. I mean, he did leave Fingolfin regent (did he? Oh gosh, I honestly forgot) but still dealt an emotional blow anyways.

Right, so we don't get much of what Finwë did in Formenos but maybe this whole thing was just for him to get a holiday. And then Melkor comes and fucks shit up by killing Finwë. Now, I'm going to talk about Finwë's murder and why it is in my opinion the Inciting Incident™ of the Silm, the Chekhov's gun being fired so to speak, the equivalent of Ned Stark's execution in the Tolkienverse. Everything else, Melkor's lies, the creation of the Silmarils, the drama between the brothers, it was a build up to this moment. And everything after, the exile of the Noldor, the War of the Jewels, it was what happened because of Finwë's murder. Prior to this, there were already factions among the Noldor as previously discussed above but none of these factions actually openly made any moves against each other. Why? Because Finwë was still alive, because Finwë was essentially the lynchpin holding the Noldor together. Now, I'm pretty sure that Morgoth killed Finwë just to fuck Fëanor's shit up even more, but what he did was quite tactically brilliant. He has effectively wrought chaos among the Noldor in one single swoop.

And thus the Quenta Silmarillion happens.

In Mandos, he meets Míriel and tells her about his life. Because maybe it went something like this:

Finwë: so yeah, you know I was with our son all the way through and then I died. What have you been doing?

Míriel: oh, you know the usual things one does when one is condemned to Mandos for eternity.

Anyways, he gives up any opportunity for life for Míriel. Which is admittedly a nice thing to do since the reason Míriel is kinda stuck there is related to him, until you find out Míriel weaves the history of the House of Finwë instead of well, I don't know building the Mírindis ship? Yeah, she probably weaved Fingon getting his head smashed open by Gothmog and getting his corpse trampled. Oh and the 'If I Die, You Die' duel between Celegorm and Dior which probably wasn't as badass as Katniss' "If we burn, you burn with us" line from Mockingjay made it seem but more bloody and violent. Also Maedhros throwing himself off into a fiery chasm. Finrod getting mauled by a werewolf.

Good times, I'm sure.

But hey, at least Fëanor comes within a few seconds after stepping into Beleriand to keep him company.

So, I'm done with teasing my analysis of Finwë. Thank you for your time. Have a nice day.

Just keep procrastinating <3

#the silmarillion #lotr #silm stuff #finwë #fëanor #fingolfin #the ASOIAF and Naruto and Hunger Games references you probably didnt need #house of finwë #look at me trying to form my thoughts into coherent paragraphs #ingwë #because i have a crush on him #elwë #because yeah #tags galore #i should be doing something productive

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greekbros · 3 years

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"greek-Bros: Character headcanons

Dionysus:

He loves anything with any level of alcohol in it and his favorite is obviously wine. However, because of his godly abilities, he functions the in the same way a saltwater fish wood if you placed it in a tank of freshwater. only instead of dying instantly, he just slowly loses his powers and becomes dangerously close to being a mortal. So he usually keeps a supply of wine with him at all costs, and it really doesn't have to be his own wine, it could be any form of alcoholic beverage as long as he consumes it.

He has a mane of curly thick dark hair that accidentally acts like a pocket dimension. he can store something in there, completely forget it and then when he remembers it he can take it out with ease. nobody really cares about how he's able to do this except Athena, she hates it when Dionysus does this and it confounds her to no end, nobody really knows why she hates it but it's speculated that she just doesn't like his chaotic nature.

True to his wild natural look, he actually has two pairs of horns; curled ram horns and long bull horns. He has no memory of it he purposefully grew these horns himself or they may have resulted in his consumption of his wine....but he doesn't care find it to be more of an excuse to adorn his head with more interesting things he finds.

He doesn't have eccentric tastes per se but he does enjoy interesting looking jewelry, placing random objects in his hair and like his brother Apollo enjoys wearing whatever the hell he wants to wear. It doesn't matter if it's a woman's dress or overly ornate armor for no other purpose than to just wear it. The function of the clothing does not concern him, as long as it looks nice on him.

He's very simple god....in the same way your stoner friend is simple, he's is early philosophical for a guy has type and often times you'll see him do weird things that in reality actually have some serious purpose. For example you would pile small stones to form a tower only to have accidentally created the druidic tradition of establishing a location. Another good example would be him having decompulsive need to pile pine cones, according to him he's still trying to figure out what would be the purpose of this but he found out that pine cones are extremely flammable thus perfect as kindling.

He consistently smells of merlot and sweat, it's not that he isn't clean, it's just that with his consistent consumption of his own wine, he doesn't sweat normally anymore... He literally sweats wine thus occasionally giving his skin a pinkish tan hue occasionally, when he bathes his skin goes back to a normal olive-ish tan.

Although he's extremely lazy in some cases, people wipl often mistake him for being soft or weak, it has been noted that in terms of strength he has rivaled both Aries and Heracles in some bizarre manner. nobody really knows if this could have anything to do with his previous incarnation of being a very powerful entity of chaos or if it's just his god-given abilities.

Unlike his fellow gods, he loves being around mortals. He enjoys their nuanced lives and daily endeavors and tries his very best to keep everyone happy.

He's primarily a "good vibes" man 95% of the time and tries to keep the peace, but that doesn't stop him from either justifyingly getting angry or sitting back and watch the drama unfold without his assistant. You also kick your ass and he will do it again if he needs to.

His primary circle of friends/family are Apollo, Hermes, Heracles, Hypnos, Artemis, several nyphs and satyrs, Kale (Delphi's only competent broker/financial expert) and whom ever he can befriend. His secondary basically consists of everyone else whom I've not mentioned.

His wine can actually physically change you with prolonged consumption but with varying results. Many of his leopards for example, have obtained a pinkish, purple hue from drinking the wine dionysus has made for them especially, prolonging their life spans, raising their IQs a little and making them more docile.

On the topic of wine, Dionysus has made several different wines with different properties. He's made wine that acts very closely to a truth serum, a wine that can heal/cure nearly everything, a wine specifically for bacchanals and festivals, wine that actually doesn't effect small kids (for safety reasons) and a wine that can do miscellaneous things.

He's into everything in terms of entertainment, he's surprisingly very cultured in spite of his perceived persona as "the god of drunkards and heathens". So in truth there's never a dull moment with him.

The best to describe him is "a semi-chaotic force of existential calm". He's so chill about so many things, one can mistake this for being aloof or uncaring, but don't worry he's got your back.

He has a list of "dislikes"; he recently has a burning dislike of Romans, drinking water, entitled rude people (because you can be entitled but ultimately unaware of it in an ignorant way), having to do the same task over and over again, being sober (because he believes being drunk keeps something inside him at bay) and frogs....he finds frog to be extremely unreasonable in conversation.

In a more sensual sense, he's up for everything asking as it's not painful or would end in a possible bad way. This explains why he tries his best to stay away from Aphrodite as much as he can help himself.

He doesn't hate Ares, he just finds Ares to be a little too aggressive when it comes to the concept of fun.

He has 0 idea about the existence of some older members of the family, such as Eris for example. He literally has no idea he's not the only agent of chaos in Greece.

He had formed a secret "Drunkard's Society", it consists of other deities from around the world whose specialties occasionally revolve around making alcoholic beverages... if anyone asks yes Jesus (yes he's canon in greek-Bros as the son of "A God" of which no one really knows who) is part of the club by default for some reason sine he used his abilities to make wine. There's very little rules for the club, the only rule is that if possible, bring drinks.

Although he primarily is Pansexual, he is in an very open marriage with Ariadne. Being his only functional braincell, Ariadne is the one who keeps him grounded when making certain decisions, she pretty much completes him in the sense of companionship. She's also pretty compatible with his personality given her upbringing, in spite of her upbringing as a royal, she's always been more carefree and empathetic with her subjects. Plus she doesn't object to most of what Dionysus does but she knows when to step in as his partner on more serious matters. Deep down, Dionysus believes that Ariadne is the second reason why he's still alive. His first being "because my dad mpreg'ed me into existence".

He may or may not be aware of his previous incarnations, he gets weird dreams that feels very violent and feverish at times of a stress filled day. He knows he isn't like the other Olympic gods in many ways.

His seat in Olympia was gifted to him by his aunt Hestia. Hestia, being the oldest child of "The Big 6", felt it was time for her to "retire" from being part of the Olympic gods, no one really understood why she made this decision but she was extremely happy to give the seat dionysus as she personally felt he had a "certain spark" that felt was appropriate as her successor. He too, has no idea why he was given this gift but he assumes that if Hestia felt it was appropriate than it was.

Out of all the olympians, he has made friends with the most deities outside of Greece, second place would be Hermes and third would be Ares.

Apollo

Unlike dionysus, he's extremely calculative, considerably well sorted and more formal. There's always a visible method to what he does and everything has a scientific explanation, in contrast to dionysus's unpredictable meme energy.

He has a bizzarly faire complexion with literally no flaws and his skin almost glows with warmth. His blond hair has been known to also glow depending on the light. His eye color is the same shade as the sky with white pupils, but when it's night time his usually white pupil turns into the normal black, representing the passing of the daytime. The same thing happens to Artemis.

Being the god of the arts and sciences, he loves to educate people. Delos (his home island) is home to one of the best schools of thought in all of Greece.

His first passion of playing the lyre and it still is to this day, if he wasn't the god of the sun, he'd be the god of music.

He puts this persona of "the perfect guy" to mostly everyone he knows, with the exception of Hermes and Dionysus who pretty much know he's a big sensitive softy.

He's an extremely beautiful man with perfect mesomorphic body. He has very gentle mannerisms with a contrasting burning and passionate reaction to anything that could anger him. Pretty much, he's the embodiment of the sun, beautiful, giving, warm but he will burn you.

His personal tastes are similar to dionysus's in terms of preference of clothing. Anything goes and when he looks fashionable in anything, he especially loves wearing lose dresses because he feels the most comfortable in it. He barely sees a reason to assume clothing can be specific to gender norms, as long as it does its function, it suits him pretty well. To him, clothing is clothing.

He's one of the best chariot riders in Olympus, rivalling Triton and occasionally Hades.

He's pan/bisexual to put it best, but he seems to have an easier time forming lasting relationships with men than he does with his female relationships, as evident his mythos. He's not very sure why, and he desires to get better at it considering he actually has the most children in the pantheon.

He's an extremely loving father to his offspring, he's taught most of his children in the ways of art and sciences but is always surprised to see them flourish with their own specific passions and talents.

He thought Orpheus would be the son who's take his place if anything were to happen to him....until he was killed and sent to the underworld. Apollo still mourns for his son's death and doesn't blame Dionysus or his maenads. He believed that Orpheus's was too powerful, even for him

He chooses his lovers, not the other way around. It's an unfortunate trait he inherited from Zeus and it probably is the main factor in why he has such a difficult time with having female companions.

He literally knows about almost everything on almost every subject.

Like Ariadne, he's Dionysus's other braincell. Because of this, the two seem to have an ongoing battle of ideologies that grew into an extremely friendly rivalry to see who can get the most apostles and followers. There's no competitive energy between them, it just feels like a huge game to them.

His circle of friends oddly enough don't stop at Hermes and Dionysus, along with Artemis, his lovers and his muses, it seems Apollo has a surprisingly small circle of friends out of the "the bois". Inspite of his more intellectual relationship with Athena as a fellow scholar and "thinking person", he doesn't necessarily consider her an ally. In fact he actually has a very interesting list of possible foes that are mostly other members of the family. His number one rival however seems to be Eros, who has repeatedly caused him grief in the past, he's probably the second factor as to why he has such a complicated relationship with female companions.

He's a very accommodated individual, it baffles him till this day as to why his twin finds more comfort being in the outdoors than in Olympus, seeing how both of them were raised the same way. He doesn't like being dirty or getting too dirty, he's a bit if an introvert most of the time.

His favorite foods is anything grown under the sun. The only thing "fermented in the dark" he would ever consume is Dionysus's wine, which outside of ambrosia, is the only drink he trusts other than his own.

It may not look like it but he's actually a serious fighter. Especially loves using his bow and arrow and trains alongside with his twin sister.

Give me look pretty, but he will still kick your ass if you deserve it.... Or not he could just simply incinerate you out of existence. In terms of powers, out of the trio he actually does overpower them through natural force than anything.

His Muse's basically are a mixture between his group of female friends and essentially sisters by covenant. He's only had one relationship with one of the muses but outside of that he has NEVER once thought of any of them as calcubines. He will retaliate if anyone assumes otherwise, the reason being is because he would never harm or have any intentions of hurting any of his muses. They see him as a brotherly figure and teacher of the arts, NOT as a master.

Hermes

He's the one god in the family who's decided to make his life a lot more harder by having more hats to wear. He ironically likes it because it always makes him feel "closer to normal".

He's the hardest working of the trio, the only other individuals who works as hard as him is Hestia, Hephaestus and Hades.

Simultaneously, he loves lounging around eating his favorite snack, high energy foods. Bread, surgery fruits, nuts, anything to use to help his caloric intake for his long days of running.

He's literally fast enough to travel forward and back in time. At first, he was just found it strange when he would mention someone, it would be either in past tense or no body would have known who they were. After he found out that he was literally running forwards and back in time, he's been carefully pacing himself.

His favorite thing to do is observe anything really, especially loves seeing what happens after he effects something. For example, he could miss place a cup for no reason other than to see what will happen next.

Although being older than Dionysus, he's the shortest and "youngest looking" of the trio. His youthful complexion however has a dismal purpose. He notices that mortals find him a lot more approachable then the other gods. He primarily looks like a young lab in between the ages of 19 in comparison to Apollo's late 20 something and Dionysus's mid 20 something with a positive youthful disposition, the reason why is because in his "real" form, he actually is taller, pushing to late 20's to early 30's, has a little bit of facial hair, facially stern looking face of some hardened by life and overall "intimidating", not in an Ares sort of way....more like as if you can't really read what's on his mind. This may actually have something to do with the fact his speed could have actually been something he inherited from grandfather, Chronos. He hates his original body and does everything in his power to avoid showing even Apollo and Dionysus this version of himself.

He bisexual with a preference for women. He loves to experiment but that's when he gets in the most trouble. A great example would be the primary reason why his sort of least favorite son, Pan, is the way he is.... because he actually mated with a woman....in the form of a goat, since then, he has had to keep on eye on Pan due to his pension for causing problems....the bad kinds. His favorite children are Hermaphrodite and Hermanubis, he believes they're both his best out comes and both children have the best qualities of both parents.

He's extremely terrible at coming up with names for his children.

He dangerously takes more after his grandfather than he does Zeus physically and powerwise. Due to his incredible speed, his connection to everything from the underworld, to the intricate influences he has on mortal life, and even the fact he actually feels time catching up with him when he over runs, Zeus feared that his father's dark influence was on Hermes and protected him as much as possible from the scrutiny of his other siblings. This fed the fear that Hermes was to be the son to overthrow Zeus....until Apollo became Hermes's closest brother and friend and until Dionysus came along and basically padded the weird "dark prophecy" down to a grinding hult. Since then, Hermes secretly is forever in dept to both brothers for essentially proving everyone else's assumption of his dark nature wrong.

He has an extremely interesting relationship with his demigod brothers like Heracles and Perseus, with a lot of convincing, Hermes was able to get both Demigods to be considered full fledged gods by Zeus's blessings. Since Demigods age far more slower than normal mortals, unless consecrated into Olympus by Zeus, Hermes always consolidates his demi-siblings since he knows unlike the Gods, they will too one day die. He just really didn't want to lose his favorite half-brothers.

Out of the trio, he's seen the most shit. He's seen painful and peaceful deaths. Being a psychopomp isn't all fun and games unfortunately, it's the equivalent of being a doctor in terms of emotional disturbance. He does find it comforting that the only people who completely and fully comprehend what he internally goes through is Thanatos, Hypnos, Charon and Hades. All four of which constantly consolidate him on how he feels and that it's ok to go through the motions of what they call "indiscriminate mourning", a feeling of constent mourning for those who have no relevance to him but which one constantly feels empathy. In a dark humorous way, a demon in Tartarus suggested to remove his "empathy" to ease his suffering but Hermes refused because he'd rather have it than feel nothing.

Being the god of deception, he actually hides his insecurities and personal on-goings extremely well. He knows what's important is the present of things, he's seen death (literally and the god) and has seen what life has to offer. It's not going to stop him from having the best time with his brothers. Lucky for him, he tends to forget he's pretending and goes on as best as he wants to.

He loves animals. He's especially sympathetic to turtles and tortoises, he absolutely admires them for just being such a slow animal who can also be close to home. He recently discovered sloths in the continent that will soon be discovered as South America, and is completely enchanted by their slowness. He also loves 'racing' with faster animals like horses and antelope.

He is the only living being Cerberus let's through in and out of the underworld. Mostly because Cerberus never seems to catch him, thus the beast doesn't really bother, plus Hermes always brings treats for him so that helps.

The wings on his helmet are emotive when active and melds into the metal when inactive. Being the most 'human' of the trio, he can slip into a crowd unnoticed.

Out of the trio he seems the most normative, being more down to earth like Artemis. However he doesn't show the same amount of contempt for the pampered life of a god as much as Artemis does, he's comfortable where ever.

Like Dionysus, he has a very wide range of companions, friends and allies. he doesn't have a lot of enemies that he can name but he does have a bit of a complicated relationship with Ares. He doesn't really hate Ares, but he does enjoy occasionally making a fool out of him. Ares in truth doesn't mind this considering Hermes did save him from some Giants who put them in an urn....is early enough it's not that he's indebted, it's just that when he threatens to kill her is it really isn't anything.

Hermes enjoys antagonizing people isn't very fond of. Hera specifically, he tries to find every way to anger her as much as possible. Even if it results at some else's expense.

He can and will, consentingly fuck your wife. And he would do it again.

Juxtaposed to his complicated and emotionally heavy job as a psychopomp, he's an absolute funnyman. It even borders on 'Bugs Bunny' like antics.

#greek bros #dionysus #apollo #im sorry if this takes away from the mystery of some of the characters #but I just had to make this list for the sake of character development and maybe even some help with the story going on #hermes #ares #I will make another list for a series of characters but that'll take a little more time for development #greek gods #greek mythology #hellenistic #apparently in Greece if your name starts with an h that just means you're a hard worker by default #also I'm sorry for the very angsty head cannons for Hermes #he's bizarrely a lot more deep than I expected him to be #also please don't complain about the sexuality of the characters considering everyone technically is pan or bisexual #with the exception of the virgin goddesses #they're probably either Ace or just sexually agnostic #I don't know this is my first time actually putting sexuality as a factor in these lists #please don't be mad at me educate me politely #character study #character development

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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limits of desire⤳t.h.||12

chapter 12: something borrowed.

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the phonecalls and Lizzie.

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty, mentions of cheating, lizzie, miguel. alcohol

word count: 4.8k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Hi, sorry this took so long. I took a break from social media because of the holidays, but it’s here! I hope you like it!

How do you react to the love of your life not wanting to be with you?

Tom had tried to give it an explanation. Logical, or not. He wasn’t exactly having the greatest time of his life. Quite the opposite, really. He’d spend most time in bed, he was annoyed by himself, he couldn’t stand himself. Sometimes he’d go out, and be reminded of her, on every street, every song, every person, every movie, every goddam radio station belonged to her thought.

And her voice echoed through the halls, and he’d look at the remaining pieces of her in his place, like the pictures hanging on his walls, or a lipstick she had forgotten, or the cinnamon rolls he had bought for breakfast. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t talk.

He avoided everything.

Because Tom knew this was y/n, being scared of him. This was y/n not wanting to give up life because it was him. Had it been anybody else whom she’d fallen in love with, like Haz, or Tuwaine or any of his brothers... she would’ve stayed. Because she believed in them. But not in Tom.

Not in Tom.

Because Tom knew it relied on the fact of his past. The fact that he never committed to something. The fact she’d have to deal with every other girl not wanting to talk to her because they’d slept with Tom. The fact that she had to look away whenever he was making out with her another woman.

The fact that he willingly had told her that they could kiss without it meaning anything, 6 months before. The fact that months ago, he had basically wanted to kiss her because she’d be leaving the very next day.

Because Tom knew y/n.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t angry.

Had he done anything wrong that night?

But he had felt he hadn’t. He had told her he loved her. Although, he had told her he loved her countless times before. Maybe he should’ve been less pragmatic.

He had called her, but she had only answered once.

And it hadn’t been her.

“Hey?” And Tom hadn’t like that voice.

“Hey—uh, who’s this?” Tom asked.

“Oh, sorry man, it’s Miguel, y/n is taking a shower,” the guy had cheerfully answered.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Oh. Er, okay, can you—can you tell her to call me back, please?”

“Sure! I’ll tell her! Hey—uh, she told me you might not make it to the wedding—“

Tom sighed. “She did?”

“Yeah, but it would mean a lot to us, you know? You’re her best friend.”

“Yeah, It’s cause—something came up, might be filming on those days,” he lied. “And she probably doesn’t want me there.”

“Oh, I assure you she does, every time you come up in conversations she gets a little bummed.”

Tom rubbed his face. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Alright.”

“Please tell her to call me back.”

“Of course, bye!”

Had she lead him on? Probably....probably.

Tom was giving it yet another spin. He was sitting down at a pub as he wasn’t really listening to whatever his brothers and friends were saying. The music was muffled. Their voices. The lights.

Tom couldn’t listen to anything, or see anything. He just stared at the fourth—fifth beer he had chugged down.

He was desperate. He hadn’t slept these days. And he yet couldn’t process it. He had tried calling her, countless times and it wouldn’t even ring. Not Instagram. Not Twitter. She was not answering.

And Tom, he was angry. Very angry. Because it got him to think. And because the last time he’d talked to her... he hadn’t meant it.

Because Harrison had called her, and she had answered. He wasn’t sure why.

And he had stolen the phone from Haz.

“Y/N.”

“Who—“

“Why did you do it?” He had yelled.

“What—me?”

“Why did you leave? You can’t marry him!”

And she had stayed quiet.

“Y/N.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Oh but you have to, y/n, can you stop fucking running away from this?” He snapped. “Should I contact Miguel and tell him you cheated?”

“Gosh—No!”

“Then why are you running?”

“I am the one running now, Tom? Really?” She laughed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Tom asked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because that’s how it works right? That’s just how it fucking works with you! One night and then you’d be gone! I want you out of my life Tom, and I gave us the chance! This was it. I gave you the perfect reason to get away from me,” and Tom knew she was crying.

“But—y/n I... I am... I love you, why—?”

“No, Tom, you don’t love me.” And then she stayed quiet. Tom did too. “You don’t love me, you are just scared that you’ll lose me, but you’ve already lost me anyway.”

Tom bit his lip. “Tell me you never felt anything.”

“If I did, it’s long gone,” she whispered. “I can’t keep getting hurt. I can’t let myself be another prize for you to win so you can throw it away.”

“I don’t want—“he sighed. “I want you here.”

“For what? So you can hang out with me after you got laid?” She cackled. “I can’t stay there.”

“You were never—“

“I was, we both know it, and why are we even having this conversation?” She sounded tired.

“Then why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me.”

“It was just a kiss,” she said with poison. “It doesn’t mean anything.” She sighed. “I dunno, guess it was my free pass to finally get away from you.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me near you?”

She didn’t answer.

“Y/N.”

“I don’t, alright?” She yelled. “I’m in love with Miguel, and having you close means jeopardizing my relationship.”

“You’re not in love with him—you should be in love with me.”

Y/N laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, I have to be—not everyone loves you, Tom. That’s the thing with you! You only think about you and you think everything revolves around you! And you never stop to see what the other one feels!”

“And did you stop to think about how I felt when you left?” Tom pushed.

“You realized what you did, don’t you?” She questioned him. “You put yourself before any of this, knowing that although, I’m finally happy, you decided that you simply didn’t want me to marry him, because you knew I’d be gone,” she explained. “You don’t love me, Tom. You can’t possibly love anyone.”

Tom closed his eyes. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“That you’re a selfish, arrogant son of a bitch?” She asked. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad I am out of your fucking life, then.”

And she had hung up.

Which led to an angry Tom. Because he hadn’t meant it. But anger had taken over him. And he knew he had fucked up. Because he really had. And now, he’d just hear about it, he knew he’d just hear about it from his friends, about how she married Mr. Perfect.

And he thought about calling Miguel and telling him about that night. But he knew he wanted her to be happy, and maybe Miguel would make her happy. Tom wouldn’t.

He knew he was to blame himself because he didn’t take the chance when he could’ve. And he hadn’t meant it. He wasn’t glad that she was out of his life.

Maybe they were meant for this. To always be apart.

And he had seen her stories on Instagram. She seemed happy with Miguel, while kissing his cheek. And Tom felt his stomach burning up. Because she had uploaded stories with him in the kitchen, laughing as they cooked. And he heard her laugh.

And it bothered him, because, well, she used to laugh like that with him. That smile had been reserved for him.

And now it belonged to someone else.

And it hurt. It hurt to think he’d lost his chance. He wanted to ask her for a favour, to please not use that laugh when’s he was around Miguel.

It was Christmas Eve. And he really wasn’t up for anything.

“Tom,” Harry pushed again. Tom didn’t look up. The beer on his hand was half-empty. No drink tasted as good as her lips.

“Thomas, c’mon,” And this time, Tom did look up because it wasn’t any of his friends. And he was surprised to see her.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her.

“Can we—can we talk?” She asked him.

Tom shrugged. “You won, didn’t you?”

Lizzie sighed as she sat across him.

“Finally, words,” Tuwaine exclaimed.

Tom glared at him.

“You look like shit,” Lizzie stated.

Sam glared at her.

“Why did you bring her?” Tom asked Haz.

Lizzie sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Because I also think y/n is doing something very stupid.”

Tom shrugged. “Maybe she isn’t.”

Lizzie scuffed. “Oh god, please.”

“She is doing the most stupidest fucking thing she’s ever done,” Harry said.

“I agree,” Lizzie said.

“No, no,” Tom sighed. “Because she will be happy.”

“Look, maybe I think you’re a big piece of shit, but I know she won’t be happy with Miguel.”

“And would she be happy with me? She made it clear, she doesn’t want to fucking see me again, I won’t make her happy.”

“Do you love her?” Lizzie asked.

“I do, I’ve been in love with her since we bloody met, and that’s why I’m letting her go, she hates me—“

“She doesn’t. But she doesn’t believe you love her, and look, I don’t—support you.”

“Clearly.”

“But I don’t support her marriage with Miguel either,” she continued. “And while I know I can’t do anything about it, because whatever her choice is, I will stand by her… But I know you can.”

“How?” Tom laughed with cynicism. “Maybe I can but I don’t want to.”

Sam glared at him. “Why not?”

Tom sighed. “I’m—she broke my heart, alright? How do you I think I feel?” Tom said. “Have you guys seen me in the last few days?”

Haz looked away.

“She broke me, I really don’t want to see her,” Tom explained. “I’ve given up, I can’t be in love with her, I don’t—and I don’t want you to bring in Lizzie to—this. It’s over, alright?”

“You’re giving up on her? Really? After you proved her you know her from head to toe?”

Tom looked away.

“C’mon that question? About the scars?” Lizzie asked. “Not even her mum could answer it.”

Tom shrugged. “Well, It’s a small scar.”

“She’d never told anyone but you, yes, it’s a stupid scar she had on her knee because of a stupid table, but you’re the only one to know it.”

“What—What does this have to do with anything? Yes, I know her, I love her but—she really hurt me,” Tom exhaled. “I—I felt like an idiot. After everything I’ve done for her! She only gave me hope for one night and then left, without a warning.”

Lizzie chuckled, to herself. “Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

Tom sighed. “It’s—“

“Different?” Lizzie crossed her arms. “Really? Why?”

“I’m in love-“

Lizzie sighed. “Look, Tom, I was—at some point in love with you, too. And it felt awful.”

Tom looked down at his beer.

“But you know what made it awful?” She continued. “That I knew that you would never fall in love with me, because deep down you were in love with my best friend and I knew that deep down, she was in love with you.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “That’s bullshit.”

“Look, I don’t know if she’ll be with you “ Lizzie continued. “Honestly, I can’t promise you that, but if you love her—and we both know her, we know that she shouldn’t be marrying him.”

“He is perfect,” Tom pushed. “She is happy, have you seen her stories?”

“He might be, and she might be happy, I look at her—sure, her smile is just as big but you know what else I noticed? She’s wearing your shirts.”

Tom looked away. She had been. That marvel t-shirt someone on set had given him, and that she had worn once and would often every time she stayed at his place. He must’ve taken it the day she left.

“That means nothing,” he said and he looked away.

Lizzie sighed. “She’s throwing away her life, her dreams.”

Tom shook his head. He knew he was being selfish, but he agreed. However, he knew exactly the reason as to why he agreed was merely his pride.

“Is she?”

Harry nodded. “She had a job offer that would get her to her dream.”

“Dreams change,” Tom stated. Like his, his dreams had changed. He would give up everything just for another taste of her lips. “And—this is stupid, alright.”

Lizzie shook her head. “You and I know her best, but I know her better. Y/N does these things, if you are scared of commitment she is worse—“

“I’m not scared-“

“Don’t get me started. Y/N fell in love with you because that’s what she does, she knew that falling in love with you meant no commitment, And with you? Free pass to never have to deal with this. She loved to run away from feelings, I’ve known her all my life. This is y/n not accepting that you love her, too.”

“That’s not—She knows I love her,” Tom said. “But she doesn’t want me to love her.”

Liz shrugged. “Maybe. But y/n always runs away from relationships.”

“Except with Miguel.”

Liz smirked. “Then why did she kiss you?”

Tom gulped down.

Liz chuckled. “You haven’t tried enough.”

Tom frowned.

“Tom is making a point,” Haz admitted.

“You’re on his side?” Lizzie frowned.

“C’mon, you saw him back at the dancing lesson, he’s tried,” Haz pointed out.

“But did you tell her—?” Lizzie pushed.

Harry nodded. “He did tell her not to get married.”

“Does she know you love her?”

Tom sighed. “She says I don’t love her, claims I am only doing this because I am scared of losing her.”

“Is that true?” Lizzie asked.

Harry scoffed, “technically.”

“It’s not,” Tom sighed. “Partly, it is. I am afraid to lose her, but because I love her —she’s like—poetry.”

Lizzie watched him. “You know she left because you let her leave right?”

Tom frowned. “No.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Please, think about all the guys she’s dated,” Liz explained. “Take that Harry guy, Harry Sanders, let’s start with him.”

Tom frowned.

“I’m not—I am too drunk to listen about all the guys she’s dated.”

“Oh, but she had to deal with all the women parading your life?” Lizzie frowned, crossing her arms.

Harry clucked his tongue.

“But what about that poor idiot?” Asked Tuwaine. “He was in love with her.”

“Still is. Bet poor guy is going through a worse time than Tom,” commented Haz.

“The moment she felt anything, she ran away, and broke up with them,” Liz pointed out.

Tom bit his lip. “Yeah—“ he had pointed that to y/n once.

“But, that’s not all,” Lizzie continued. “Let’s go with—Charlie, yes, Charlie.”

“She didn’t like him,” Tom quickly said.

“Alright, then how about that guy—Andrew.”

“She never liked him,” Tom said.

“Alright, what do those three have in common?” Asked Lizzie.

Tom shrugged. “Poor fools who fell in love with her, I should add myself to that list,” Tom said as he ordered another beer.

“No,” Liz shook her head. “Who pointed out to her that she didn’t like them the same way?”

Tuwaine bit his lip. “Tom.”

Lizzie nodded. “You’re the only one who can talk her out of this.”

Tom looked away. “I don’t want to.” He rubbed his face. His eyes were red and his movements were fizzed.

“If you love her, you know that he is not right for her, and you’ll finally do something so selfless only because you love her.”

Tom stood up and walked out of the pub. Lizzie followed after him.

Tom leaned against the wall. “I can’t,” he admitted. “She thinks I’m a selfish, arrogant son of a bitch. And maybe she’s right. I know I am stupid, I didn’t fight for it when I thought I could. Until I thought I’d lose her I finally accepted it,” Tom said. “She’s right. But I love her. She’s the love of my life and she wants me as far as I can be,” Tom sighed. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

“You haven’t fought enough, Tom. If you love her that fucking much then you would keep fighting for her,” Lizzie pushed. “Really? You fought for three days and gave up? She fought for years and gave up 6 months ago, the least you can do for her is to try and stop her wedding.”

Tom looked up. “That’s selfish.”

“Then be selfless,” Lizzie insisted. “At least, get some balls and go to the wedding.”

Tom looked up. “What for?”

“She told me about the kiss,” Lizzie said. “I guess it’s partly my fault.”

Tom let out a laugh. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

“I told her that she should at least do something before the wedding, I stupidly believed that would stop her, without knowing you did feel something for her I guess I thought—that she would be brought back to her senses and realize that marrying a stranger is stupid.” Lizzie sighed.

“And she didn’t, she just took it as a chance to get rid off me,” Tom said as he tried to balance himself. “But she—she loves him,” Tom continued. “I really do think she loves him. I won’t—I don’t want to stop her from being happy,” Tom said. “At this point—I would even—Go to her wedding if it meant still having contact with her.”

Lizzie watched him. “You should, then.”

Tom shook his head. “She doesn’t want me there.”

Lizzie watched him with pity. No one would’ve ever believed they didn’t like each other.

“Tell her,” said Lizzie before pulling out her phone. “But I need you to be calm, alright? You can borrow my phone.”

She handed over the phone and Tom stared at the contact i.d. It was a picture of y/n and Lizzie making a silly face, not so different from the one Tom had with her. And suddenly, he sobered up. He looked at Lizzie as she just walked back into the pub.

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he called her.

And he was shaking, it was ringing. And it seemed that it was the longest time before she answered. It gave Tom time to think about her, how charming she was. How her low voice always made everyone lean to her, charming and lovely. Or how her face always gave him a hidden promise with those bright eyes of her. How her voice always sounded like she had an exciting adventure to tell him.

“Hello—hello?” Y/N laughed, and her laugh echoed through the phone gracefully. “Give me a second, Liz, I’m—“y/n laughed again, and Tom felt it through his chest, like a dagger straight into his heart. “I’m helping out with Christmas dinner, they celebrate it on Christmas Eve here,” she explained. “Liz?” And there it was, that whisper that promised a lovely conversation.

“Hi,” he said. “It’s...It’s Tom.”

The line suddenly went dead silent and all Tom could hear were muffled voices and music.

“I—I need to take this, I’ll be right back,” he heard y/n say to someone else. Her voice had turned stiff.

Tom gulped as he walked around. He just heard her take a big breath.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he started.

She didn’t say anything right away. “No, I’m sorry too—“

“No, y/n, listen. I’m sorry, alright? I—said things I didn’t mean, alright? I need you to know you’re my best friend and I need us to be bigger than this. You’re right, I’m so afraid to lose you—“

“Tom-“

“I love you, y/n, and I can’t be that arrogant-“

“You’re not-“

“But I am, alright? I am just a selfish, arrogant son of a bitch. I can’t be that anymore, and though it hurts, if this is what makes you happy then I can’t stop you but at least let me be there, I’m—“

“Tom, it’s—“ she sighed. “I also said things I didn’t mean. I didn’t mean that.”

“I can’t lose you, y/n, not like this.”

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted. “I’m just—I am scared alright?”

“Let’s forget that happened, okay?” He asked her. “Or...if you wanna talk about it—“

“I—I don’t know. I was being stupid. I tend to sabotage myself and—somehow I think we got lost in the moment-“

“I fucked up. Big time. But please, it’s us against this, not me against you, not you against me. And I don’t want to be someone who you avoid talking about.” Tom couldn’t let her continue.

“It—it was my fault,” she said. “Let’s just—ignore that night. Okay? We are friends. We don’t feel anything for each other. I’m getting married.”

And it seemed like she was telling that to herself mostly.

“I—“

“I miss you,” she said again. They probably had run out of things to say that weren’t decent.

“I miss you, too,” his voice was shaking. “I—I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, and—it takes everything in me, but I really do want to see you, one last time. A proper goodbye.”

She stayed quiet.

“I just need one thing,” she said. “Please… After this, we… We go separate ways.”

Tom sighed. “Yup, you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Well...You’re still coming, right? You’re still the maid of honor, aren’t you?”

—

Boxing Day.— 5 days until the wedding.

Y/N hadn’t been sleeping. There’s a fine line between a kiss and whatever they had done. Problem was y/n knew that she had cheated. But, she was cheating on someone rather than herself. She was fooling her heart. And all this time with Miguel had helped her to put her back to her senses.

She had stopped herself. She hadn’t slept with Tom, but, she had done something worse, she had connected with him. In a way that she knew she’d never been able to connect with Miguel. And it was wrong. Very wrong. Because she was marrying Miguel. And although... he was good, in every way, she knew deep down her heart belonged to Tom.

Yet it was... complicated. He had said the words: “I love you.” And he had kept calling and he had kept on saying he loved her. But this wasn’t Tom. Really. Tom couldn’t love anyone. Y/N was just the worst victim. The most complicated one. She thought about it, how he had finally understood how to get her into bed, saying he loved her. It had taken him four years to try and getr into her pants.

No, Tom couldn’t love her. Not in that way, anyway.

Or maybe he did. But y/n didn’t want to think about it. Y/N knew she was like Tom. She didn’t like relationships, she didn’t like having to deal with all of the crap that relationships deal with. She didn’t like big romantic gestures. No, that wasn’t her.

She didn’t like big movies or dancing proposals. She loved the small details. The ones that people don’t usually notice.

Like when she saw an old couple in a restaurant, the woman had gone to the restroom and her husband had ordered her drink for her, without her asking him to. Those details. The way they know their thoughts before they can even think them.

In a way, the way her and Tom knew each other. But y/n knew that loving Tom meant him getting bored of her. That sooner or later he’d miss his life and start having sport like meaningless sex. Tom loving her was something momentary.

But she would marry Miguel, someone who was willing to learn. A new book. Someone who could stay.

She could’ve stayed. Yet, she hadn’t. Because Tom had said those words: “This won’t matter tomorrow.”

And that’s when she’d been reminded of who Tom was. One night stand only. That’s who he was. No commitment, whatsoever. And maybe it would’ve worked, but she loved him too much, and she knew that sooner or later they’d be done, and then they’d be a couple of strangers who can barely have any small talk.

Marrying Miguel. She was watching him, talking to his family by the pool. They were staying at a nice hotel, where everyone loved Miguel. Because what could you possibly not love about him?

She couldn’t hurt him. At this point, she was marrying him because she did love him, enough to never want him to be hurt.

And his family. She couldn’t hurt his family. They had been perfect.

And she’d learned so much from them on those days. And the days had been bright, the sun was shining. Because whenever she was with Miguel, it seemed like everything was fine.

She was alright. She wasn’t on the edge, she didn’t need to hide any possible emotion.

But that didn’t stop her. Her leg was shaking as she looked at her phone. She had received a text from Haz about an hour ago, they had landed.

They were here, and any moment now they’d be arriving.

She had had many margaritas. Who was counting, anyway? And Miguel’s cousin(?) maybe it was someone else’s was telling her a story about their childhood. Or something of sorts.

She was just nodding and smiling, Miguel had taught her to do that. Smile and nod. Smile and nod. Smile and nod.

Lizzie, Hannah and Jess had arrived on Christmas day. Lizzie had seemed off, and hadn’t questioned y/n on the subject she was dying to be questioned on. She felt so guilty, she even thought about telling Miguel. But what would she tell him? That she had cheated on him? That she didn’t love him as much as she loved Tom?

She couldn’t.

“So, Miguel told me, is it true? That Tom Holland is your maid of honour?” Miguel’s cousin asked, whose name y/n had forgotten after being introduced to what seemed the thousand family members he had. Latinos have big families.

Suddenly that name brought y/n back to the conversation, anyone looking at her would’ve seen the sparkle in her eyes. It was sad and lovely, and the cousin, Mariana, yes, it was Mariana noticed it.

“Tom?” Y/N’s voice was subtle.

Mariana grinned. “Yes… Is he…?”

“Yes, he’s...my best friend,” she explained. “He’s supposed to be arriving soon…”

“But the maid of honour?” Asked Mariana with confusion. “Is he gay-?”

Miguel then approached her as he sat beside his fiancée, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “Hola, hola,” he greeted. “How are you guys doing?”

Y/N smiled, just slightly.

“I was just asking her about Tom,” Mariana explained.

Miguel grinned. “Ah, that’s exactly what brought me here,” he chuckled. “The maid of honour.”

Y/N dropped her glass.

Miguel pulled her back. “Amor, are you okay?” He asked her, “did you get any broken glass?”

“What?” Y/N blinked. “No, I’m… I’m okay, I’m okay, they’re… they’re here, let’s go say hello! We should go say hello, right? Yes let’s go say hello,” she stood up and Miguel chuckled, taking her hand and leading her over.

Mariana reached out for them, “Ya se tomó varias margaritas, eh, aguas,” she warned. ((She had some margaritas, watch out))

Miguel laughed, as y/n just smiled and nodded. The moment they walked into the hotel reception, there was a lot going on, not only Tom, Haz, Tuwaine and the wtins had arrived, but more family. The reception was chaos and y/n couldn’t find him through the big and buzzing crowd. Miguel would stop and say hello to his family, introducing y/n, who really didn’t want to be there.

People hugging her, telling her how pretty she was, pinching her cheeks and wishing her a well and happy marriage.

And maybe it was the alcohol, the excitement or the shock, but the moment she finally saw Tom, y/n fell to the ground.

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docholligay · 4 years

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The Time Traveler’s Bullshit

@katrani comissioned me to write out my full review of The Time Traverler’s Wife, my most hated book of the year thus far, and I feel like it won’t be dethroned. nearly 3,000 words and I skipped a whole section I was going to write about, ENJOY

Three dollars and ninety nine cents will buy you a Big Mac. It will buy you four hours of downtown parking in my city. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents will buy you a latte made with burnt coffee at Starbucks. For Three dollars and ninety-nine cents, I can get a can of terrible beer and have a dollar left over for tip. All of which would have been a better choice than what I ultimately spent that three dollars and ninety-nine cents on, which was this book.

I am careful to read hyped books out of their time, so that I’m not influenced by something that has been so lauded no book could ever hope to reach those heights. So when this first came around, and I saw many women talking about how much they had loved it, I figured I would just read it later. I buy books used, so this is generally what I do even outside of worrying about being affected.

I finally picked this book up after a reader of mine told me it reminded them of my writing.

After reading it, several years after all the hype, I have one question: Are women who fuck men okay?

(“Why not just straight women, Doc?” you may rightly ask me, and I, unfortunately, am forced to answer that I know a number of bisexual women who also enjoyed this book, leading me to believe that the trouble is far worse than previously imagined.)

I found this book to be borderline insulting, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have claimed this book was written by a man. The entire way through I felt the constant assault of the idea that this reminded someone of ME. What have I been doing wrong all my life, I asked? I should probably give up writing.

Let’s go into the book itself!

The core of the novel hinges around the idea that Henry goes through time without wanting to and with no consious conrol, and so in a sense lives his life out of order. This is a fascinating idea but for the fact that book’s main hinge is the relationship between Clare and Henry.

Who Henry meets, as an adult out of time, when she is six.

And proceeds to groom her to be his wife someday.

Oh, it isn’t put that way, of course, it’s simply that they end up married and so, I suppose the author might say, it’s only natural that Henry interact with her when he comes the “the Meadow” nearby where she lives. But this sort of “things are already decided” that the author is extremely fond of does not remove this intensely squicky framework from their relationship. Henry begins with Clare when she is six years old, and it comes on VERY fast that they are supposed to get married. She is at a sleepover, still as a literal child, ELEVEN YEARS OLD, when the Ouija board spells out his name as the boy who likes her.

The book takes pains to describe how he won;t have sex with her until she’s 18, but how difficult it is for a thirties to forties man not to have sex with her when she’s 15, 16, 17. I want to say there might be a part where he describes it when she’s 14, but I can’t find it in the book right now, so we’ll pretend it’s not there. “But they’re married in the furute!” one might say, listen if my wife had to resist having sex with sixteen year old me, and didn’t see me as a fucking child, I would think she was gross. It’s gross for a thirty-something to forty -something dde to struggle not to fuck a teenager, period, end of story.

All of this is wrapped in the book’s idea that this is romantic, instead of the idea that Clare’s “date with destiny” is tragic. She doesn’t ever have a boyfriend, because she is “waiting for Henry”. She sleeps with one of Henry’s friends before he and Clare ever officially “meet” and bursts into tears because she feels as if she has been unfaithful. Meanwhile, Henry is out having girlfriends like no one’s business, and “Well Doc he doesn’t know” why is Clare the one who has to bear this arranged marriage?

Clare herself even alludes to the way she’s being groomed to be the woman he wants in a way that I DO NOT THINK the author intended, as the author is desperately wrapped up in the idea that this is sexy and romantic and not deeply fucking unsettling.

Pretentious-ass Henry is dropping German into a casual conversation with a thirteen year old so that you know he is learned and cool, and explain that it’s from Rilke, one of their (note: Not your, but OUR) favorite poets.

Clare responds: “You’re doing it again!”

“What?”

“Telling me what I like.” Clare burrows into my lap with her feet. Without thinking I put my feet on her shoulders, but then that seems too sexual, somehow, and I quickly take Clare’s feet in my hands again and hold them together with one hand in the air as she lies on her back, innocent and angelic with her hair spread nimbus-like around her on the blanket. (Sidebar: I can only fucking imagine that the sort of people that are into this are the sort of people who think nothing at the idea of some Victorian gentleman marrying his attractive young ward, as apparently there’s no problem with having seen someone as a child and then having them marry you! It’s not deeply fucked up at all!) …..

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“You are making me different.”

“I know.”

These brief asides are meant to make us feel that Henry has done enough to assuage his guilt, that we are meant to forget that what he is doing is wrong. The book goes so far as to have sixteen year old Clare be the aggressor with a 37 or so year old Henry, as a way of trying to tell us, “Oh look none of this can be Henry’s fault” and an absolutely cringeworthy section where Henry goes and beats up a kid who took Clare on a date and proceeded to assault her. (She dates him to prove she’s not a dyke wow what a great book and thank you for reminding us that Clare never wants to see anyone else for her own sake even as a teenager, very healthy)

All of which would make me a hell of a lot more mad if I managed to like Clare even a little bit. But it’s not at all surprising that I don't--Clare is hardly a character in this story so much as she’s a cardboard cutout that exists for Henry.

Each of her desires and thoughts revolves around him, from the time she’s a child, save for minor pouting incidents when Henry either won’t tell her something, or disagrees with her. But she always caves, but for the exception of having a child, another horrible thing we’re meant to feel sorry for them in, but I, at least, never really do, as they know the problem, they know how horribly Henry’s life has been affected, and yet they persevere. I find myself asking why in the fuck they don’t use donor sperm, but I suppose that would not fulfill Clare’s real use as being Henry’s vessel. It might have been very touching to write about their experience of infertility if they were likeable at all, or the chapters were anything but flat and emotionless despite dealing with really high-emotion topics. It’s essentially Clare saying “I want a baby inside me” and having a series of miscarriages. I’ve read more compelling narratives on online message boards.

Not to mention when Henry suggests adopting and Clare says “That would be pretending” bitch fuck ALL THE WAY OFF. I repeat: WE ARE MEANT TO LIKE THIS CHARACTER. NOTHING ABOUT HER IS SHOWN AS A NEGATIVE.

A fair amount of time in the book is spent describing how hot Clare is, and it’s a bit cringey to read about a super hot redhead with great tits and also rich, who’s a visual artist, and then flip to the back and see a redheaded visual artist as the author. It’s not that I don’t believe that authors are ever allowed to find themselves in a character, quite the contrary, but one hopes that there would be a level of detachment or at least plausible deniability. But no, Clare is nothing but wish fulfillment for the author, but unfortunately cannot fulfill any of ours. I get the sense that these characters are far more complex and layered in Niffenegger’s head, but they fall completely flat on the page, sketches of annoying human beings.

Clare seems to have been raised in an Austen novel, where the home is noted for its architecture and we ‘dress for dinner’ which could be intensely compelling if they ever went anywhere with it. But we don’t. Because of course Clare’s raising in a straightlaced, extremely wealthy family has no affect on her and she is a very cool girl who is laid back and likes the right music and poetry. (Sidebar: The name dropping in this novel is SO TIRESOME. Every band, artist, poet, etc has to be named and identified so your are aware of how absolutely well-read and smart and cool Niffenegger is)

The we’re meant to feel for Henry when her family finds out that he is half-Jewish which I suppose is meant to be shocking when he doesn’t practice or isn’t different in any marked way from her family? The character has no Jewishness in him but as a side note and dare I say for shock value. Her family isn’t even written as believably against the union, as no one can resist super cool hipster protag Henry DeTamble (Even his name sounds INSUFFERABLE)

The problem, of course, is that the very wealthy can buy their way out of many problems, meaning that an author has to have a particular deftness of hand in order to make you feel something for them. This is not that author. Any sympathy one might have for Clare goes immediately out the window when she’s complaining about having only a small room for a studio in which to create, while she’s living off the INTEREST from her trust fund, and hiring a cleaning service because neither of them is willing to vacuum. Not her trust fund. The INTEREST from her trust fund, which means there must be so much fucking money in there we all want to scream.

Of course, Henry goes into the future and wins the lottery so they can give her a new studio, I shit you not this is a thing that happens in a novel where we are supposedly meant to identify with the characters and feel for them. They buy a nice house with a separate studio in the backyard, not even in the house, just a large brick edifice where Clare can do whatever she wants because these people don’t have consequences until Henry’s death, and by the time he dies, we’re all thanking God that at least there’s one thing they can’t weasel out of. The book has the audacity to have them, later, describe having a private box as one of their “little indulgences” friends a private box is the realm of $1,800 dollars for ONE showing of an opera, and while I am a believer in the good of occasionally saving up to do something that is an experience, there is no way I would describe that as an ‘indulgence” but these people have such wealth that they never need worry about anything at all, except the central point, which is that Henry drifts in and out of time and we would like to sentence a child to that.

Henry himself is a collection of traits rather than a person--it is so important to the author that we know he is a real punk with great musical taste, that he knows German and poetry and Chicago--it’s all rather a laundry list of the long-haired, tall, punkish but very classically learned boyfriend Niffenegger would like to have rather than someone who has a heart or a mind. But the luck of it all is that she clearly cares about henry far more than she does Clare, and so he gets a bit of fleshing out with a tragic anime backstory and all that, and from time to time we see bursts of real humanity in his character.

Their love, even if it were not burdened by the exceptional trouble of CLARE BEING GROOMED AS A CHILD, has the weight of air. Henry is a womanizer with a drug problem, but then he meets Clare, hot rich redhead who proves she’s known him her whole life, and suddenly the magic swelling violins are in the background, love has found its day, and no more is ever said about it.The book refuses to get anywhere deep into how they feel about things and why, it is only glancing blows that seem to suggest an emotion rather than allowing ourselves to get into their minds.

The bulk of the description of their love is sex. Sex sex sex. I get it, they are hot for each other, I am trying very hard to get over the fact that they are married when Clare is 22 and Henry is thirty, but you’re giving me nothing to pin their relationship on but the fact that they enjoy railing each other and Henry has been around since Clare was a child. I don’t understand the why of their relationship even once, it all seems so accidental, and I wanted there to be a lesson, or something to be said about humanity and relationships, but I found nothing save for maybe the idea that women are fully engrossed in their relationships and men basically luck into them and then drop out from time to time? But even that is far far deeper than I think the novel deserves credit for.

The side characters are somehow worse, mainly racist stereotypes or one note characters who ALSO exist to have their lives enhanced by the protagonists. Even their friends only exist so that Gomez can have the hots for Clare for years, because Everyone Wants To Bone Clare.

The writing itself is terrible too, written in the style of a script, almost, rapidly shifting between first person narratives in a matter of one or two paragraphs, often, helpfully telling who is talking by, I shit you not, putting “CLARE:” or “HENRY:” before the paragraphs, so we can enjoy who it is that is navel gazing and picking over the conversation without saying anything really, save for how badly Henry wants to fuck his super hot wife, who may or may not currently be a teenager, and how desperately Clare loves him, and has loved him since she was a child, for reasons that remain unclear.

It’s padded out and ridiculous and reads like some of the drafts when I am being a complete garbage pile, and thank you to the person online who had already typed this out so I didn’t have to:

Henry:

Clare is wearing a wine-colored velvet dress and pearls. She looks like a Botticelli by way of John Graham: huge gray eyes, long nose, tiny delicate mouth like a geisha. She has long red hair that covers her shoulders and falls to the middle of her back. Clare is so pale she looks like a waxwork in the candlelight. I thrust the roses at her. "For you."

Please try to read that with a straight face and get back to me, i could not manage it, and it was early on the book, and this sort of thing goes on for pages, if you don’t like hearing about how pale Clare is, and that she has red hair, her two most dominating character traits, you are in for a very, very rough time.

The narrative voice of the characters is identical. I mean, I suppose I should thank whatever god is responsible for this clusterfuck for the CLARE and HENRY bits because otherwise I would have no clue who was talking from moment to moment. Does NIffenegger think all people think alike? That their internal monologues are the same? It seems to me she must because I can’t figure any other way that one could write two characters and have them, even when their opinions differ, sound like the exact same person.

I did enjoy the letter at the end of this story--and this is where I saw where my reader connected me to this book--it almost seems as if it was written for a different novel, a novel about a doomed love between two people that truly loved each other and had rich inner lives. It’s beautiful, or it would be totally removed from this novel.

This review has, in itself, gotten to be as rambling and listing as the novel, and so I will let it rest here. I read incredibly fast. This took me something like five or six hours to read. It was a waste of every single one of those hours and I wish I had gotten a Big Mac instead. Save yourself, save six hours, save three dollars and ninety-nine cents, and read literally anything else.

#Doc Reads

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michellewyatt · 4 years

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Finding Me

When someone says “to be assertive”, what is your initial thought? Someone that is a bully, dominant, pushy, overbearing, OR confident, decisive, self-assured? For this shy introvert, (you can stop laughing now because this is way more me than what most of you realize) the thought of being assertive was not in me. For me, it meant I would have to be mean. Ugh! What if I upset someone? What if they don’t like me? The need for approval from EVERYONE was something I struggled with all my life. Reality is, it is still a struggle. Let’s face it, the only people I am comfortable with asserting myself with is my honey and my kiddos. And yet even with them, there are times I bite my tongue more than they realize. Pretty sure that’s the same for you. Let’s face it, we are usually more direct with family. One of the things Todd loved about me is going along with whatever he wanted. It seems that everyone around us believes that I am the one controlling the decisions in our home and he loves it! He is a sneaky little thing! It just looks like it because I am the louder one trying to be heard from the bottom of the well. I’m not sure if you can relate to that scenario, but when it was me and a house full of boys, what I wanted was not important most of the time. Thus I coined my phrase “can you hear me from the bottom of the well”. Looking back, I created the situation. From the time we met, I doted on him and made sure that everything was perfect for him. The assertive nature has never been a part of me. I was more passive-aggressive which was not healthy. Sure I was taught from a young age to be confident, to care for others, etc. We were encouraged to be involved in the church including speaking, teaching, volunteering, and even singing (yes, with this awful voice I used to sing – oh my!). My forte was teaching littles because well… they loved me and I didn’t feel so inadequate. As I grew into adult ministries, I never felt qualified. As with anything new, trying too hard to please people and get them to like me and approve of me, I made mistakes which were some huge blunders! Raise your hand if you can relate. I’ll wait… I know there’s at least one or two of you who can. I am thankful for pastors that invested time in me to help bring out of this self-made shell. I will never forget the first time my pastor’s wife told me to write a Bible study… I almost fell over backward. Who am I to write a Bible study? With her help, my first and only (so far) Bible study on Hannah was written. It was a springboard for me to find my voice. This by no means indicates that my life was not good, or that I was unhappy, I just wished I had learned about being assertive in the proper way at a much earlier stage in my life. It would have helped with the quality of life I had as well as what I would have been able to give to Todd and the kiddos.

God knew what it would take for me to realize it was okay to be heard and how to make it happen correctly. Funny thing is, He used some of the most painful moments in my life to give me the wake-up call. Becoming an empty-nester was one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. That is saying something because I have lost two moms, we lost everything we owned, and a lot more drama that does not need to be shared… We have faced some trials, yet, empty-nesting was in the top 2 of “OMGee, help me, LORD!” trials in life. Yep, no need to remind me. Weston is 23 and still living at home with no plans of moving out. We are as empty-nested as we will be. Without being a full-time mom, I had no idea what to do with myself. My entire life all I wanted was to be a wife and a mom… I had no idea this part was going to be so hard. My entire identity was wrapped up in being a mom. Everything I did revolved around Todd, the kids, and church. Did you read that? My entire identity revolved around the spouse and kids. Pretty sure this wasn’t supposed to be this way. Where is your identity founded? I have been a Christian all of my life. I did Bible studies, went to church, did all the things but never found my confidence because my identity was in the wrong place. Finding my voice, meant finding my place, finding me in Christ, and the realization that it was okay to be heard. It was not okay to be passive or to be a martyr. If you know me, surely you have seen the changes over the past 5 years or so. God used a little makeup business, and ironically, working for Todd (this makes me giggle so much!) to teach me to be assertive. Talk about an adjustment for Todd! Since starting What Really Matters and becoming certified family/marriage facilitators, I have learned how to be assertive in my relationship with him. It has even taught me how to express my thoughts with friends and co-workers standing up for myself without feeling like I was over-stepping. Say what?! That was so hard and it still is from time to time, so I just bite my tongue.

Assertiveness is the ability to stand up for yourself and your rights, but you also must respect the rights and opinions of others. It is crucial in a romantic relationship to maintain your sense of your own identity; I DID NOT DO THIS. It is also important for the relationship to thrive and be healthy. It won’t be healthy if you cannot learn to express yourself assertively in a healthy manner. What generally happens is the passive-aggressive nature will stifle everything until KABOOM. Or you are overly aggressive because you think you are right about everything and you make sure everyone else knows it. My identity was founded in being a wife and a mom. Some days I was terrific and others, not so much and I was okay with it because that is part of being human. There is no way we can be expected to be perfect and yet here I was blaming myself for everything and having super high expectations of myself while ignoring my own needs.

Being passive was easy. I was good at being the martyr. I could dismiss my wants, thoughts, desires, and allow others to disregard them. Funny thing is I would express my needs, feelings, and thoughts and just as quickly dismiss them. Did you read that? I DISMISSED THEM. It wasn’t an option for others around me to make a decision or to even be able to address it. I was to become the martyr. Once Todd pointed this out many years ago, l started growing and making changes. Just ask him how he feels about me being assertive now! Ha ha It has been an adjustment for him. At first, it was great because my confidence level was growing. My spiritual level was growing. And then I started telling him things that I wanted. Using tools we have learned along the way to have proper dialogue and not just one-sided blame game stuff. It has taken him some time to adjust. He loves it and he dislikes it very much. It is the best thing that has ever happened to our relationship.

Assertive people are self-starters, go-getters, self-controlled, self-assured, and team players. What? Being assertive means, you play well with others? Without the need of their approval? Yep. You can do it. Many tools can be used that will help you have an assertive voice and maintain your Christianity as well.

In Mark, it tells the story of the rich young man who came to Jesus. He was so proud of himself and was not going to be vulnerable he asked Jesus what he must do to be saved. Jesus saw him and everything that was important to him and addressed it. He looked at him and said in love “sell everything and give it to the poor and follow me”. He knew this young man’s life was all about the riches and nothing more. Jesus wasn’t saying he couldn’t have riches but that whatever consumed him is what he should give up. Notice how Jesus addresses him, “looked at him with love”. Jesus was loving, direct, and focused on his mission of redemption. This did not guarantee that this man’s response would be to repent and he didn’t. Jesus was loving, compassionate, and assertive in his response. Why is it so hard for us? Because we care too much about what other people think when we should care what our Father in Heaven says about us.

Being assertive does not guarantee success for you in direct conversations but it will greatly increase the likelihood that a genuine and authentic encounter will take place with your friends and your loved ones. It's not about finding your voice, it's about permitting yourself to use your voice through Him.

#assertive #passive #relationship #growing #finding me #finding #who am i #love #marriage

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shafferangelina95 · 4 years

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How To Avoid Losing House In Divorce Fascinating Cool Ideas

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takingcourage · 5 years

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Basking

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 1,350

Summary: Arden’s in a flirty mood during movie night with Jaime and a lot of fluff and nonsense ensues. If you’re looking for plot here, you’ll be disappointed.

Note: As the gif may imply, this story makes reference to Bryan Fuller’s excellent Pushing Daisies. I don’t think it’s necessary to have watched the show in order to understand this piece, but I do heartily recommend it (especially if you’re a fan of quirky romcoms).

Warm breath skimmed the tip of Arden's ear, fine hairs rising on the back of her neck when cool air returned to the delicate skin. Lids growing heavy, she allowed them to close for a few moments, blocking out the sight of credits revolving over the screen.

Her cheek rose and fell along with Jaime’s even breathing, and she smiled into the wrinkles of his shirt, inhaling deeply of the scent of cedar and musk. When she'd first arrived at the house, he’d apologized for not having had time to shower before dinner, though she hadn’t exactly minded. Sooner or later, she'd have to admit that the lingering smells of his workshop weren't exactly a turn off.

If it had been two months before, he would have just showered and not given a second thought to her presence in the next room. Now, the once-accustomed action had become something of a taboo. Arden flexed the fingers that were flush against his skin, exploring the smooth ridges of his ribcage. It was like he'd forgotten that she'd seen him next-to-naked plenty of times before. Like he wasn't counting on her seeing him absolutely naked in the future.

You're not getting rid of me that easily, Jaime Lewis.

Arden still wasn’t completely sure what she wanted, outside of wanting him. She knew he was in it for the long haul: marriage, kids, retiring together someday -- all of that. As tempting as all those things sounded to her, she wasn’t ready to commit just yet.

A string of college boyfriends had taught her that she tended to jump into relationships too quickly, and the stakes this time around had her overthinking everything. But Jaime was never going to rush her. He’d borne the burden of consoling her after the burnout of her last relationship, so he was as wary as she was of moving too quickly. More wary, in fact.

A little too wary, she mouthed the words against his shirt, her whole body warming pleasantly at the thought of what it would be like when they were able to leave all that caution behind.

But for now, she was content right where they were. Well, most of her was content.

A tension had settled in her left shoulder, chilling her bicep as it moved down through the rest of the limb. Before she had a chance to react, the tingling had already started.

She opened one eye, weighing her options with a glance toward the clock. Could she extract the arm without waking him? He was a heavy sleeper, yet her chances still seemed unlikely.

Besides, the rest of her was too content to move. Resigning herself to partial discomfort, she shifted her weight just a bit in hopes of relieving some of the pressure before the entire arm fell asleep.

If this lounging position became a regular part of movie night, she was going to need to sort out exactly where to put her left arm. The current arrangement of wedging it down between Jaime's side and the couch just wasn't working out, comfortable as it had been when they’d started.

The fuzz was beginning to creep into her neck when she felt him stir beneath her, woken by the opening narration of the next episode of Pushing Daisies. Arden tugged the ailing hand from its unnatural posture, lifting her face in time to see his beautiful eyes flutter open.

"Sorry," he offered with a yawn, bringing a hand up to comb through the hair on his forehead. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"As it turns out, you make a pretty comfortable bed. I’d leave you a 5-star rating on Trip Advisor.” His cheeks, already flushed from sleep, grew even pinker at the suggestion. Arden couldn’t resist pushing him just a bit further. “Besides, I don't mind you sleeping with me.” She nuzzled into his shoulder, left arm tucked securely at her side.

And I don't mind waking up with you. It's kind of amazing, actually. “You probably heard that, didn’t you?” Jaime chuckled as he felt her nod.

She flattened her palm, skimming down his breastbone and around his side. Once she reached his shoulder blade, she pulled herself up to press a kiss to the curve of his jaw. "I think I'd like for you to do it more often."

Jaime groaned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to tug her impossibly close. She sighed into him, savoring the contact. "You're making it pretty difficult to resist you, Arden,” he murmured against her hair. And I know you're doing it on purpose.

"Fine." Her arm sufficiently recovered, she sat up and extracted her other hand from underneath his shirt.

"I would always regret it if I rushed you into anything."

"Kind of hard to rush into something when we’ve known each other since grade school..." But the smile behind her sass confirmed that it wasn’t a true complaint.

Jaime sat up straight, stifling another yawn as he cast a glance at the television. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. It’s one of my favorite shows.”

“Remember when you used to hide behind the bookshelf so Paula didn’t know you were watching it with her? I know you like to portray that macho image, but your sappy side is nothing new.” Arden grabbed the popcorn bowl and burrowed deep into the cushions of his couch.

“It’s a good show,” he defended mildly.

She held out the popcorn for him to take a handful. “I’m just here for the puns.”

“I should have known,” he considered with a shake of his head. “I think I felt like Ned back then. Desperately in love with the girl next door and unable to do anything about it.”

“There’s only one problem with that,” Arden pointed out. “I’m pretty sure I’d be Ned in this scenario, what with us both basically being superheroes.”

"Well, either way, we’re lucky your powers don't extend to raising corpses and potentially killing the living with a touch."

"Might be nice sometimes...” she mumbled around an unpopped kernel.

Jaime gave her shoulder a light shove, and she used the momentum to settle back against his side.

Smooth, Arden.

Peering up through her lashes, she showed him an innocent smile. His eyes narrowed, but he still wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Really though,” he said, ignoring the interruption, “reading minds seems pretty innocent in comparison."

"You might not think that if you'd had to sit by June all day and listen to her thinking about her love life. I don't know how the woman gets any work done at all."

"Yeah? And how much time does the formidable Arden Gale spend thinking about her hunky boyfriend? Hours? Days?" Because I basically think about you all the time.

"My work gets done,” she evaded, stomach flipping at his unspoken words.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced.

"But I think you’re really missing the point here,” Arden suggested, leaning out of his embrace momentarily to put the popcorn bowl back on the table. “You know the main reason I’m grateful to be Arden the Reporter instead of Ned the Pie-maker?"

"Because you get to eat fruit without it turning to mold in your mouth?"

"Ewwww," her thin, straight nose shriveled in disgust. "That isn't what I was thinking, but it's a fair point."

"What were you thinking then?"

"That I can do this without it killing you.” Arden jabbed his tanned arm with a decisive finger.

His eyebrows wavered with amusement. “You can poke me? That’s what has you so excited?”

“Not quite.” She shifted again, tossing one leg over his lap to straddle him. Beneath her, Jaime’s eyes flashed dark with desire as his hands found their place on her hips. Arden trailed her hands across his broad shoulders, winding them behind his neck as she pulled in for a kiss. Lips still a breath away, she whispered, “Because I can touch you.”

“I thought you were trying not to kill me, Arden.”

“I make no promises,” she answered before closing the distance between their lips.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc #these two have taken over my life #please send help

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kiaraspeaks · 5 years

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Anansi x Female!Reader: Small Towns, Old Gods

The south is littered with old Gods. Gods who came with certain people and then were left in these small towns in America, intent and memory bind them to these tiny patches of lands. When you were a girl coming to visit your grandmother’s people here in South Carolina he was here, never seen in the same outfit twice. Always at every function from fish fries to funerals, never without a kind word or a hearty laugh. You always believed that everyone knew but never said anything.

He protected them, and they didn’t want to anger him, or maybe they respected him, at times it felt like a bit of both. But like all those small towns that crisscrossed America this one also saw it’s declined as the people and industries left. From time to time people blew in and out but overtime the stories became gentrified tales made from superstition or remixed fairy tales. Deep down, despite three kids and a shitty ex-husband, you still believe. The world can be cruel but those stories are more than balm for a soul weathered by too many disappointments. There is truth in every word, every story, and in every God chained to these lands by the ghosts of those with far too much hope.

So when you make the trip back down south to clear up any issues with your grandmother’s estate you’re not surprised to find that his little shop is still there and the lights are on. It is completely unchanged by time but still sharp as a tack. You pass the little shop and have a desire to stop, to pass on some form of history to your children but you don’t. You make it to the house safely, you give your children free reign of the town and beg them to stay together just as your grandmother had before. Your friends from too many years ago have long since moved away, creating families and stories of their own. So you walk the old familiar streets alone until you happen upon the humble old shop.

The bell chimed overhead as you step inside the shop frozen in time, it had looked the same when you were an adventurous child, a head strong teenager and even a young woman in your twenties confused about the world and what it might hold. He walked from the back of the shop sticking his head out with an infectious smile on his face.

“Now this is a rare occasion,” He announced in that magical way only he could, and then he stepped from behind the counter. “I thought I’d seen the last of you years ago. What brings you back here?”

“Grandma passed, we were getting things in order that my mama and daddy couldn’t handle on their own.”

“Eula. Yes. I heard she went peacefully.” He said and reached for your hand, there’s static in his touch, but his kind always vibrate a bit higher or so you've been told. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I appreciate it.” You say, then time stands still for a moment as he watches you with a closeness you’ve never felt, not even with your husband, or any of those fumblings in the dark you had before him. You stand before a God and try not tremble like a sapling in the wind. You fail.

“So.” He said and placed your hand slowly back to your side. He spun away, in one fluid motion with the grace of a skilled dancer, you’re still unsure how he does it. But whatever had been initiated between you two disappeared just that easily, almost as if you imagined the entire thing. “What brings you here.”

“Well grandma–”

“No, I mean my little shop. Here.” He said and headed across the room where he placed a lilac colored dress on a mannequin. He watches you as he dressed the mannequin, just out the corner of his eye.

“I brought the kids, thought a family trip would be nice.”

“It’s lovely this time of year,” He said softly, “But I don’t get the feeling that’s what brought you here.There’s a fair a few miles North of here, and a concert’s happening down in the town square, hell even that old candy shop is around, but you’re here with me.”

“Maybe I wanted to hear a story.” You say.

“Folks in hell want ice water too.” He said, perhaps it’s because he’s probably been here in this town longer than your entire family has been alive, but it seems he knows what you’re thinking before you’ve even gathered your thoughts. “Funny that the kids aren’t around.”

“I wanted them to get to know the old place.” You say and walk deeper into the shop and take a seat in one of the comfortable arm chairs.

“Let me tell you a story.” He said while sewing white buttons on the dress. You’re always amazed at how fast he moves without missing a beat, “Once upon a time before man ruled there was a Goddess who married a Boy-God, she left her home, traveling across the sea to a new land. The land was beautiful, her new citizens were nice but at night she wept for her land and her own people.”

“And what’s supposed to be the moral to that story.” You say.

“It wasn’t that her people were that much different different from the Boy-God’s, but she was homesick and when she left her world went on. It changed, and maybe she wanted something familiar to go back to.”

“Are you implying I came here for you? Why am I not surprised that you somehow think my world revolves around you?” You ask, but have you not had him on your mind? You knew that through everything that changed he would be there, and here he is, the unchanging and steady trickster. God of Chaos to some and God of stories to others. His name rest on the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare utter it.

“Marriage didn’t work out to that boy from where the fuck ever, kids are growing up, and maybe you’re getting older and getting certain ideas in your head.”

“About?” You question, you try to be playful but he is a trickster. You can never outwit him, he’s been at this longer than you’ve been alive.

“About what happens after. And your white Jesus and his promises just ain’t cutting it anymore.” He said, you watch as he moves about the shop bringing it life. A light here, a strip of fabric moves by itself there while he sketches on an aged legal pad. “So you came home like everybody else does eventually, looking for something they’ll never find again, but you’re not like everybody else. You’re special.”

“How so?” You ask, part of it is that you’ve spent half of your life being sold snake oil wrapped in bullshit from men like him, and then the other half is that you know he’s no man. A God. You itch to call forth his name, raise his power, but you remember what your grandmother told you; ‘Names have power, girl. Don’t let the old Gods use you unless you sure you can handle what they wanna give you, child.’

“You believe.” He said and came to stand in front of you, even as he spoke he’s giving you that look from before. A God stood before you who looks at you and sees you’re enough despite what the rest of the world said, your grandmother’s words and warnings fade from memory. “Those stories they told you about me, about what I might do, how I might get myself out of situations and save my people, you still believe. You came back because you believe, and I’m flattered.”

“So you did all of this to pat yourself on the back?” You ask, now he’s close enough to touch when he’s always seemed so untouchable your entire life, he always seemed larger than life but he’s here and focused solely on you. He hunches over and places his hands on the arm rests of the chair, and you don’t dare to look away from him. You are no longer just a face in the crowd, and here you are, old enough to understand all these feelings and know you’re meddling with something bigger than you.

“Nonsense,” He said, “You’ve done the hard work; through two recessions, a marriage to a man who didn’t deserve you and made you put your career on the back burner, three adorable kids who will eventually leave you and make their way into the world, you still believe when you should be hopeless.”

“But there’s always hope.” You say before you can stop yourself and he smirks, it’s devilish and charming, then he kisses you, a soft generous kiss that you’ve apparently been waiting for your entire life. Men have given you heated looks, but not Gods, you’re walking into an entirely different arena this time and you’re not sure if you’re prepared.

“That’s what I like to hear, there might be hope for this town yet.” He said between tender pecks. And as if it was just a trick of the lights you jump awake suddenly, sitting in an aged but abandoned shop. The windows are broken, the walls smashed in, the door is smashed to bits and graffiti is everywhere but in the corner of the room you see it.

A lilac dress on an aged mannequin is just the smallest amount of proof you’re not losing your mind and hallucinated this entire thing. You know he’s there somewhere, and you rise from the chair, it seems to be the only thing in tact in the entire store and grab the dress before leaving. You don’t know what the rest of this visit might hold but hope wells up inside of you.

As you leave, walking through the streets of this old town his name flows freely from your lips.

Anansi.

#American Gods #Anansi #Anansi x Reader #fic #ag fic #Anansi deserves a very big fandom

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juistheseminarian · 5 years

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Eccentric, part 2 : now I’m here

I was planning to be done with this by now - both with this article and with the illness. I can’t believe that it’s been almost 15 years and I still get people congratulating me for acknowledging that I have an issue and going it’s-the-first-step-to-recovery, which they’ve learned was an appropriate thing to say since you don’t want to stand there and be embarrassed like I do with my boyfriend’s mom when she starts crying (which she does a lot). I’ve stirred things and realized things and I intended this to sound like a sort of retrospective from a place of unadulterated success. But guess what!

I ended the last bit on my return from anorexia and lasting relationship with a psychologist I described as abusive, although that may be excessive and may come from the resentment of a long therapy seemingly not having “worked”. I started seeing them around age 12, before the eating disorder really declared, and i was referred to them at the end of an endless session of musical chairs through which I met many, many ‘emergency’ professionals whose schedules couldn’t accommodate another patient. I had to tell the whole story every time as if I were filing a police complaint or justifying an ailment that had long thinned beyond recognition, losing more of its meaning every time; I worried often, and I still do, about making myself sound ill enough to be considered, knowing I was taking their time when they could be curing people with actual issues.

Having been sent to therapy after the school phobia I developed as a 5 or 6-year-old, and then again as a 12-year-old, and on and off ever since, means I’ve barely lived without framing my every breath as something to be treated and fixed, analyzed and made normal, insufficient, dependant, bending the wrong way. I entered this longest bout of therapy as a child and left it a decade later as a child. I believe for the first few years the psychologist was reliable if a little too set in her ways: there was no talk of medication outside of an apparent agreement to exclude it, which comforted my irrational fear of treatment with just as little medical basis as I previously had. However, her patient-based approach helped me feel like this time around it wouldn’t be an issue if I wasn’t “really” anything, or that’s how I viewed it at first. I don’t mean to dismiss the entirety of what happened there, only, you know, the bits where a refusal to diagnose me lead to a refusal to treat me, which in turn lead to desperation to fit me into the superstitious ramblings of an unstable person who refused to treat herself. Fuck that person. Call it what it is.

I resented the amount of information she gave me about herself, the description of her previous marriage leading up to ten years of unhappiness she couldn’t get out of, the description of her current partner’s superior attitude, the way her life was a mess and the way I viewed her as honest instead of genuinely intrusive. She’d offer to pay me to iron her clothes, she’d talk to my teenage self about her finances, about her gynecological health, and I listened, and my mother became concerned. By then she had framed my parents as unable to understand me the way she would, she whose child had run away from home and I had to know all about it, apparently. I defended her.

After the anorexia bit I grew alright for a while. I went to high school, I had a boyfriend, I neglected my own friends in order to make him my first priority at all costs, in short I was playing my role very well. My writing got noticed, as it should be, and I was exempted from english class, as I should be. I was bad at maths, I was good at history, I enjoyed latin class, I had friends I looked cool to because of the whole having had sex thing. Over one year my boyfriend and I had split up and I saw a few boys from my grade, most notably a wreck of a teen who regularly said he could be doing this with any of my friends and prided himself for using me “as an experiment”. When I broke up with him to go have the world’s least satisfactory sex with a friend of his, he called me crying hundreds of times. He had read somewhere that cool people had open relationships so he wanted one: when I took him up on that he said I disgusted him, turned around cause he “couldn’t look at me”, and masturbated in my bed. It was terrific. I was a sheep in shame’s clothing.

There were the “can we do this without a condom”s and the “I want to see you shove that shower up your vagina to clean out the danger and I’m watching you”s and the “I can’t believe you cheated on me”s (he was kind!) and the “I’m storming out of your birthday party because you and your friends are little bitches”s. I don’t like how this is taking the same turn my life took - revolving around boys and men the second it got the chance, which is something I still haven’t worked out today as I live under the constant scrutiny of my several imaginary sugar daddy-leaning role models, but I’m keeping that topic for next time. This is, of course, she says in a white girl voice, about me.

During the last year of high school, the boyfriend and I broke up for good because I had fallen in love with a guy we had met at a music festival and had pursued email after email. I felt glorious cracking the shells of emotionally unstable dudes and making them rely on me for subcontracting introspection: now I take “you’re the closest friend I’ve ever had” as a red flag, poisonous edible paper that dissolves in my water tank and kills me. It seems I do know better now, and it seems no woman ever told me that, and I keep being scared of them, and I keep being gay too, that’s my life’s familiar ghost. I’ve never gone far enough to confront the very real fact of loving women: I saw it as a kid when female nudity made me react, when I didn’t feel any sense of belonging with either boys or girls, when I felt like a monster. That desire is different because I don’t let it exist. Funny i’m only mentioning it now. What’s it like to be out to yourself?

Do you relate to princesses? To female leads? Sometimes I can’t allow myself to replace fictional characters cause how realistic would it be to have the man of the story want to fuck me when my buttcrack isn’t even shaved? Obviously that would never work. Obviously cinderella’s ass is smooth. I never feel polished enough, or good enough an actor, or intelligible enough: expanding like a red giant, I feel like a stomach with needs, and the picture is grotesque - nothing like those Degas ballerinas. Dripping, eating itself, round but not motherly, the hunchback from Ken Russell’s the Devils is too feminine next to me. Suppose i’m fattening from storing all that shame.

***

These days I resent the other diseased. Everyone hates my uncle cause he’s got it too and he drinks and he takes medication that people view with contempt; he lets himself die but it never seems to work even though he acts like it. Somehow something is still barely holding his limbs attached, miraculously, precariously. And my friend’s mother too, brain locked in a hamster wheel, hanging on to people like smeagol consumed, no longer in touch: filtering words like a beekeeper, only letting the crazy in. She makes me afraid to give birth. Would my children grow with a devolved being, Lovecraft’s blind cave-dweller, who once was human and is now condemned to live? Avoiding it in hallways, fearing it under their bed?

By the fourth year of the relationship with festival boy my anxiety had become the decisive factor in every single move I made. I could no longer travel, be spontaneous, laugh, orgasm or breathe. The lump in my throat had grown bigger than I was and my face felt numb, I evaporated, I had emergency doctors drive a camera through my nose only for them to confirm I was choking myself this whole time. It really felt strange: like you’d have tried to swallow turkish delight but it piled up in your throat, invisible. The doctor wrote: patient known for anxiety. I thought: great, now when I die for real they’re gonna think i’m crying wolf and also they’re gonna be right. Fortunately enough, I then was relieved from the constant imminence of choking, you’d never guess how.

I called a therapist my mom had taken me to when i was about 12 and we both liked her a lot - serious and a little intimidating in just the right way, a little soft yet clearly not one to let me bullshit my way out (my mom liked those). I was in the uni hall with some friends when her assistant called me back and scheduled an appointment for me later this same week: it was a huge deal. She remembered me. I suddenly felt safe, suddenly felt myself slip from my own consciousness like the narrator in Janice Galloway’s depression book when she enters a clinic: she’s no longer her own problem, or so she thinks at first, before realizing care never comes in the shape we expected.

I started treatment almost immediately and was in shock at the realization that I did not need to suffer any more. I wasn’t aware, I didn’t KNOW of the existence of medication that would prevent me from spending hours and hours in inescapable pain, contorting my body between screams and frantic sobs, persuaded I was about to die a solitary death that’d leave me to witness my loved ones moving on in relief. Everything around me felt temporary and fleeting and treacherous. And most of all, each of these occasions were a trial for my failure to live, and I sat accused as my chrysalis life developed before me, never free, never daring, hidden, waiting. Every time, I realized how much I was missing out on. Every time I was too tired to seize the day after recovering and just dozed, scrutinized always, for a respite I knew would be short. My idea of living was a xanax in front of any distracting tv show: suddenly sleep was warm, and I wasn’t dying, and things lifted by the tornado gently fell back into place, and disappeared.

(river) Oh, I got plenty of help. Therapists and medications and EMDR and - hypnosis and transcendental meditation. Nothing made me feel better (...) I feel everything. There just wasn’t enough positive emotion to balance me out. (payton: so it wasn’t because of me?) (river) no. you were my only relief. (“the politician” (2019) ep.6)

My trust in festival boy was broken: I felt that if I was ever overcome with the looming fear and froze, he wouldn’t help. I have no idea if it was true: I’m very prone to blaming others for my feeling abandoned, often with no relation to their behaviour. I never could learn his language (i’m sure I can now) and the required travelling to see him became too much, even though we had met through travelling and didn’t feel at home anywhere. This continent of my life was infected and we steeped in sepsis for months and months, resentful, picturing other people when we touched, searching for admiration elsewhere. It’s the worst thing you can do to a bond, demand things from it when it’s dead, as if it was gonna answer. You know it’s been dead for months but when you try and bury it, you can swear you saw it squirm, and then it’s gone, and you took out the doubt.

In this case I didn’t, Martin did. Martin was an old friend I knew through my first partner, and he came back into my life with an exact timing, like he was taking up an offer I was about to throw at someone else. It was all i wanted, car rides at night, feeling desired, watching him on stage, not being shamed. Comfort and help and reassurance, feeling small next to him, and knowing for certain that he understood: everything he says I take seriously, because there’s no way he doesn’t know, I could never lie, and I don’t want to. Well - I omit a little bit since that’s what it takes for me to grow guilt-free: I’m a fangirl and have never felt the need to stop, I let the obsession continent drift and crash, and perhaps it will become submerged and perhaps it won’t. Point is, I can defend it now, all the pieces I feel,I’m no one’s moodboard.

I took a step back and realized I had no way of relying on the trope of a positive ending to this, since there isn’t one. I see no perspective for myself, and I recently understood why antidepressants were considered a risk factor for suicides. It did make me indifferent to things that used to be matters of life and death: school grades, my weight… I care, and I don’t. I gained over 10 kg that sports don’t affect at all: I run all the time, cycle all the time, and it piles up forever, and I don’t recognize myself. I don’t fit in myself anymore. I don’t want to celebrate this thing i haven’t chosen and that I can’t deal with, and when I start thinking about it I end up in a frenzy. I just pretend it’s not there, but I feel so heavy carrying all that me.

It’s a good time to be lost, if you’re okay with it. I’m not. I’m not free enough to be lost: I’m merely pulling on my leash and choking myself, looking at the shop displays, window shopping for life, shiny presents in a snowy christmas street, the others singing while I watch. I watch, I drift off, they see me lose focus, we’re too tired to get me back. There’s so much to experience and when I look back, so much I’m glad I’ve done before realizing I was doing it, because clearly it would be too late by now. I’m not a recluse by choice: I’m one of the weak ones, the eternal witness, or a loser, depending on how you see it. I like both. I think taking myself as seriously as i do now is both a symptom and a cause of why I’m such a bore: what’s so bad about looking stupid? I do it all the time while trying to not look anything at all. It’s not that deep, if I do say so myself, and as you’d expect, I never do. Ah the clever girl’s burden, say the adults, and together we mock the monster we’ve created and the monster takes it personally.

So see, that’s where I’m at: no longer can I lazily bask in the excuse of a shitty partner, this time it’s on me, it’s on being sick, it’s on being sick without an excuse. My parents support me. My partner supports me. My friends would support me if i let them anywhere near me. But I take the crazy and I give it an incubator, I show it films with role models of crazy so it can grow and grow and finally make me special, isn’t this what I do? Look at joaquin phoenix and lose weight, I tell it; you’re not very good at the crazy, looking so plump and healthy. At least show your scars: they’re fading, it’s been over a decade, so now what, we’re just gonna look like someone who should get a makeover without the moving story of why they’re neglecting their appearance? What’s funny is, I’m actually a very ambitious person, mediocre is my rock bottom - listen to me when I tell you. There’s no such thing as effortless when effortless is a mountain.

(payton: i’m scared.) (river) don’t be. There’s more honor in defeat than there is in unused potential. (“the politician” (2019), ep.8)

My therapist recently told me that if I was catholic I’d be in trouble. Duh, right? Jokes aside, she went: then people would see you as a waste because you do nothing with your force. You wouldn’t be allowed to just have that and not live it. I pondered: don’t you think I know that? Is more guilt really the solution?

I know i want things. I know I love things, and people, and sounds, and places, and smells, and being alive. But do you see the difference between ‘knowing’ you shouldn’t be doing something, and understanding it in your very flesh, by experience, growing from it with the intimate conviction that it’s something you must stay away from? I know those things, and I don’t feel them really. I’m a fast learner, I’m a semi competent person, I can almost seem okay in a group. But I have shackles for lungs and I have concrete for breath. It’s got brutalist charm and warmth almost doesn’t spread.

So that’s where I am with the dreams I have and the love I feel and the way it won’t come out. I suppose I’m awake but I’m not quite there. Martin feels it first: the pain on his face when I disconnect is breaking my heart. He’s just trying to bring me back. I’m loved. I’m locked away. And once my arms break I’ll dig my way out with my teeth if I need to.

#my writing #mental health #juistheseminarian

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traincat · 5 years

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I know you've already sort of discussed this but could you please explain the marvel 2 in 1 ending... what I'm getting is that the gist of it is that Reed and Sue are just like 'lol whoops I guess we sorta forgot about u'... which is really kinda anticlimactic and abrupt. Did I read it wrong or something? All that build up and angst just for it to go down the drain... is there something more to it that I'm missing that you know of?

I can explain it, but the answer’s not going to satisfy you, because it doesn’t satisfy me. Long story short: there were implications there was something more to the story than Marvel Two-In-One’s final two issues said, but Fantastic Four hasn’t followed up on that like, at all, and shows no signs that they’re going to anytime soon.

In the interests of putting all of the pieces together, I’m going to lay out everything that happened between the cancellation of the Fantastic Four title and now, because there are a lot of fuzzy periods. The Fantastic Four disappeared from the Marvel universe and from the shelves back in 2015, following Jonathan Hickman’s Secret Wars event. In Secret Wars, the multiverse has been destroyed and cobbled back together into Battleworld, a realm where Doctor Doom rules as god king, with Sue as his wife, Ben transformed into a huge wall, and Johnny as Battleworld’s artificial sun. It’s a real fractured fairy tale. At the end of Secret Wars, Reed defeats Doom and reunites his family. Using Franklin’s mutant ability to create entire universes and the Molecule Man’s powers, Reed, Sue, and the children of the Future Foundation set out to recreate the multiverse. Ben and Johnny are sent back to their own Earth with comment that “their stories aren’t done yet.” Doom is also sent back with his scarred face restored.

The cancellation of the Fantastic Four at this point heralds the first time Marvel had been without a Fantastic Four book on the shelves since 1961. We know – partially because it was painfully obvious, and partially because Jonathan Hickman spilled the beans – that the Fantastic Four comics were cancelled because of a film rights dispute; aka, Marvel Studios and Disney didn’t have the film rights, and Ike Perlmutter threw a fit about it. Instead of doing their best to put out a good book that would draw in comics audiences, Marvel instead cancelled Fantastic Four, citing low readership. Marvel has denied this, but the truth is pretty obvious, especially with how the Fantastic Four’s return to comics just so happened to coincide exactly with when it became extremely clear that the Disney-Fox merger was going through. So right from the start we had this very inorganic reason as to why the Fantastic Four were hung up. Reed, Sue, and the kids were retired out of universe under the excuse that they were rebuilding the multiverse – which, to be fair, does work as a pretty good excuse. Johnny and Ben, on the hand, were kept in-universe and distributed to other properties, probably because of Ben – who, let’s be honest, is the most popular of the Fantastic Four and the moneymaker here – and because it made more sense to keep Johnny and Ben than just Ben.

Immediately post-Secret Wars, there was an eight month (iirc) timeskip in the main Marvel universe, meaning that books that picked up after the events of Secret Wars picked up significantly after it; we see very little of the Secret Wars fallout. Here’s what we do know concerning the Fantastic Four: Reed, Sue, and the kids were largely believed to be dead, although Johnny in particular initially refused to believe that. Sometime during this timeskip, Johnny and Ben had some kind of fight. We don’t know what it was about. Honestly, at this point, we’re unlikely to ever know what it was about. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that Ben and Johnny severed all communication and Ben left the planet to join the Guardians of the Galaxy. What followed was the longest separation between Ben and Johnny that we’ve ever seen in canon. Johnny and Ben are famous for squabbling, but their fights rarely last longer than a few days at most; they’re extremely close, to the point that when Ben was presumed dead, Johnny’s coping mechanism mirrored Ben’s long time love and current wife Alicia’s. This post-Secret Wars separation between them lasted longer than when Ben thought Johnny had gotten together with said longtime love Alicia (it was a Skrull in disguise, but nobody would know that for like 80 issues). This separation between them is completely unprecedented, and like I said, we have no idea what caused it.

This scene from Infamous Iron Man #9 is the closest I’ve gotten to determining a root of the fight – note Johnny says “my family”, all handily bolded for emphasis. Not “our family”, “my family.” Ben is the only member of the Fantastic Four not related by either marriage or blood to any of the others, which has been a very occasional sore spot in the past. But even this scene doesn’t quite make sense – it’s hard to imagine Ben and Johnny having a months long separation over this alone, and to make matters more confusing, before Infamous Iron Man #9, Johnny had tried to get in contact with Ben only to be rebuffed. In Infamous Iron Man #9, Ben gets in contact with Johnny only for Johnny to practically run away from him. Already the new dynamic here feels like it needed more attention in the narrative than it actually got.

I think part of the problem with this whole return of the Fantastic Four storyline – the actual return especially, but even the lead-up – is that it was never established what was keeping Reed and Sue from coming back. On top of that, if they had the power to send Johnny and Ben back, why weren’t they able to send them back with some sort of memory or guarantee that Reed, Sue, and the kids were okay? It would have been very easy to say “well, a supervillain did it!” You know, the easiest comic book plot excuse of all time. But they didn’t do that. And that creates a problem when it’s a well-established fact that Johnny in particular tends to fall into a deep depression and displays signs of self-harm when the team isn’t together. (Fantastic Four #191-193, Robinson’s Fantastic Four run, Ben’s death in Waid’s run.) Which is exactly what happened this time, too, both during the timeskip and in the lead-up to Marvel Two-In-One (2017).

Marvel Two-In-One (2017) was essentially the test run for the return of the Fantastic Four. The original Two-In-One was to Ben Grimm what Marvel Team Up was to Peter Parker: essentially a team up book that revolved around one character. So it made sense to relaunch it starring Ben and Johnny. In Two-In-One, Ben discovers Johnny at the end of his rope, pulling life-threatening stunts in his grief and depression, and, willed a multidimensional travel device by Reed, decides to – to the best of his knowledge at the time – lie to Johnny and say that Reed and Sue might still be alive. Learning that they’re both losing their powers and will continue to do so unless they’re reunited with Reed and Sue, as their powers depend on the four of them being in the same universe (an interesting concept, though not one we’ve seen before), Ben and Johnny set off, with a worryingly helpful Doctor Doom on their heels, on a multiversal roadtrip to find their family – one Ben thinks will fail from the start because, as far as he knows, Reed and Sue are dead. It’s a really good concept, and a great concept that starts to fall apart as soon as the notion that Reed and Sue aren’t dead starts to float to the surface. In Two-In-One #9, stranded powerless with Ben in the desert in another universe and facing death, Sue appears to Johnny.

(Marvel Two-In-One #10) This brief contact is apparently enough to reignite Ben and Johnny’s powers to full strength. Sue says that her and Reed’s powers were gone, which does seem to track with the plot – except Johnny and Ben lost their powers over a prolonged period of time, not all at once. If Reed had realized he and Sue were losing their powers, he should have come to that conclusion far before this point in time. You can say the times don’t add up because different universes (which the “you haven’t met the Zaklons yet” line would seem to imply), but with no explanation about how Sue was able to contact Johnny – however briefly – at this point, it does make it seem like Reed and Sue could’ve made contact with Ben and Johnny at any point… and simply chose, for whatever reason, not to. Which is, ultimately, the story Two-In-One goes with.

(Marvel Two-In-One #11) In the very next issue, Reed’s reasoning for why they didn’t take Ben and Johnny with them is that… they would’ve been bored by the science aspect of it all. Which is, I’m going to go ahead say, very out of character and not in the spirit of the Fantastic Four. They’re explorers, and they explore together. This seems like a weirdly brusque excuse to write off the absence so they can get back to the status quo as quickly as possible, using Reed’s science-obsessed image to make him the fall guy. Additionally, in this issue (which I have to say, I overall like – I wrote a whole Doom/Reed fic based off of it), Reed also offers another reason why the world had to believe he and Sue were dead:

In Marvel Two-In-One #11, Reed and Ben visit an alternate universe Doom who exists in a universe where his own Reed is dead. This Doom is a pretty okay dude at the moment – in fact, he and Reed had become, through Reed’s private multiversal travel, close friends. Using this (pretty flawed) logic of “Reed dead = Doom good??”, Reed deduced that if his own Doom thought Reed was dead, he… too would be good? Look, I don’t hate this. I’m a big Doom/Reed fan and the whole thing is pretty shippy and it also depends on Reed having an enormous attachment to Doom and an enormous desire for his own Doom to be like this other Doom, who is his friend. But as far as “why did Reed and Sue stay away as long as they did” explanations go, “Reed was kind of bonkers in love with Doom” is not the direction I expected things to go. Besides, it doesn’t really work, and it doesn’t really work for one big reason: Fantastic Four (2018) #1, the actual return of the Fantastic Four, was published before this, and Fantastic Four (2018) #1 implies a hugely different story.

Fantastic Four (2018) #1 sees Johnny and Ben returned to their home universe after the events of Marvel Two-In-One #10. The reader has no idea how they got there or what they’ve been doing since they got back, or even how long it’s been since they’ve been back. Despite the Sue sighting, at the very end of the issue, Johnny becomes convinced all over again that Reed and Sue are dead, up until…

(Fantastic Four v6 #1) The staging here is important – Reed and Sue’s battle-ripped uniforms, and the cryptic lines between them, like Sue’s “what you plan to do… seems impossible.” This is compounded by dialogue between Franklin and Val in the next Fantastic Four issue:

“You think you can boost that signal enough… to reach Earth?” “Home? I’m good, but there’s no way I’m that good.” This would definitely seem to imply that, for some reason, Reed, Sue, and the kids can’t contact their home universe, or Ben and Johnny at all. I’m admittedly biased in favor of this version: the more time went by without Reed and Sue contacting Johnny and Ben and leaving them on their own, the more obvious it became that this was the best solution, to create some comic book reason why Reed and Sue simply couldn’t return home. But Fantastic Four (2018) #3 and #4 never really explore this more, and the subject gets dropped altogether, which makes for a very unsatisfying read. The Fantastic Four simply return home together and, some frankly too quickly brushed off anger and resentment from Johnny in Marvel Two-in-One’s closing issue aside, this gets swept under the rug in favor of the Fantastic Four just being back now! Hurrah! Pay no attention to the film rights hungry Mouse behind the curtain!

If I wanted to, I could make the explanations presented in Fantastic Four (2018) and Marvel Two-in-One (2017) mesh – Reed has massive guilt issues stemming back to the accident that granted the Fantastic Four his powers. He has a bad habit of taking responsibility that isn’t necessarily his, and of not being 100% truthful in situations because he feels it’s for the best for everyone. (The massive amount of time he takes to reveal his powers are failing during Fraction’s Fantastic Four run, or in the two instances during Waid’s run where Reed uses cruel words to distract both Ben and Sue from his plans to sacrifice himself for them.) Reed might have chosen to take the blame on himself – come up with a story he knows will anger Ben, say that he thought he and Johnny would have been bored, because he felt it was somehow easier than admitting that he and Sue found themselves in some kind of situation where they simply couldn’t get back, and couldn’t contact Ben or Johnny. It’s a way of taking 100% of the blame on himself, which would be a very Reed thing to do. But that would be me doing the book’s work for it; this is absolutely not established within the actual canon as of the time of my writing this.

Honestly, I don’t think we’re likely to see this explored more any time imminently – the Fantastic Four were banished from the stands because of film rights. They came back because for three years dedicated fans asked where the Fantastic Four were, yes, but also because of those same film rights. Now that they’re back, there seems to be this huge rush to pretend it never happened: the Four are back together, and that’s that. It’s very unsatisfying, but it’s clear Marvel cared more about pushing the Fantastic Four back together as quickly as possible than writing a coherent, satisfying story that put together all the pieces of their in-universe disappearance.

#foil-in-a-thunderstorm #*replies #traincat talks comics #long post/

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animebw · 5 years

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Binge-Watching: Gankustuou, Episodes 7-9

In which the kids try to rise above their parents, love is in the air, and the first victim is claimed.

Love Beyond Borders

It’s become pretty clear by this point that Gankutsuou is a story about love. More specifically, though, it’s about the way societal constraints can stifle or twist love into something harmful or damaging, and the ways we try to repair it in turn. All the major conflicts in this show revolve around love gone wrong, and all the major character arcs revolve around the character reconciling their ideal of love with the reality they exist in. The Count himself is the most obvious example, clearly desiring some sort of revenge for a disastrous encounter with love some time in the past. But when you look at the entire rest of the cast, it’s clear that none of them are really happy with where love has taken them in life. Albert and Eugenie have been engaged to marry, but neither of them feel much romantic love towards the other. Franz’s fiance Valentine feels nothing for him, and he feels nothing for her in turn, while the man she actually loves is being kept from her by societal barriers that discourage the mingling of soldiers and aristocrats. And don’t get me started on the adults in the cast; they’re a turgid melange of cheating, cuckoldry, and unfaithfulness. Valentine’s stepmother is so dispassionate towards her that she’s happy to be seduced by the count into poisoning her own daughter, for fuck’s sake. And the Count seems all too happy to let the kids peek behind the adults’ curtain, thrusting in their faces just how badly their supposed guardians have betrayed their notions of love.

It’s a hard truth for the kids to face, that their parents have been messing up so badly. Poor Albert’s still in denial, doing his best to still pretend that at least his parents engaged in a loving relationship with no caveats, despite all the evidence starting to suggest a much darker outcome. But something fascinating is happening with the kids who allow themselves to recognize the failures of their parents in love; they’re refusing to give into them. Instead of letting their idealistic view of love shatter in the face of all these unhappy marriages, they’re instead adjusting their views of the very ways they can engage in love with each other. Maximillian’s courtship of Valentine goes wrong because he fails to consider her own feelings, but instead of giving her up to her fiance, he apologizes and actually takes the time to listen to her troubles and understand what she wants. And Franz, instead of getting jealous that his fiance loves someone else, acknowledges Maximillian as an important person in her life and encourages him to stick with her. Because he doesn’t want to deprive Valentine of love; he understands how important it is to have someone you can rely on so easily. And if he can’t find it in himself to love her, then there’s no reason not to allow her the companionship of someone who does. Forget all the lies and going-behind-the-back their parents engage him; he’s just gonna tell his wife’s suitor up front that he’s okay with their relationship. Because he doesn’t want anyone’s happiness to be destroyed by these expectations their parents are hoisting upon them while failing to live up to them themselves.

How’s that for inspiring? When faced with a system that denigrates virtue, instead of giving up virtue, they buck the system itself. When faced with an institution of customs and rules that endangers love itself, the kids decide to circumvent those customs to allow love to thrive rather than give into those customs and spend their entire lives suffering for it like their parents. And listen, not to read too much into things that may not really exist, but on the subject of reaching for genuine love outside a system’s rigid constraints, I can’t help but notice that it’s Franz, above everyone else, who seems most willing to question the conventional parameters for love. And that by Maximillian’s own account, Fran’s fiance has always been jealous of the bond he shares with Albert. And that those two childhood friends “share a bond no one else can share in.” Or how Franz says during that same conversation, with Albert’s presence looming large as he recovers from poisoning in the next room, that he has a hopeless love of his own that marriage can’t hope to save. Yeah. Yeah, I don’t think I’m just seeing things anymore. I think Franz’s feeling towards Albert are a little more intense than he’s letting on. And who better to lead the charge to a better understanding of love than a man who’s already intimately familiar with how broad that understanding can be?

The Hidden Room

But these kids have got a long road ahead of them. Because while they’re doing their best to figure out what love should mean to them outside their parents’ control, Monte Cristo himself is determined to shove their parents’ failures in their faces to punish them for the sins of the past. He doesn’t want to let them break away from this web of toxicity- at least, not until they pay witness to how sordid it truly is. And he is very good at re-positioning the board to get everyone exactly where he wants them to be. A spell of flattery here, a strategic sacrifice there, and he has everyone dancing to his tune. A few choice words at a party game, and he’s able to get everyone separated and wandering around, giving him time to set further plans into motion. Hell, he essentially negs Albert for the entire part in the forest mansion just to get Albert anxious enough to confirm that he was the one spying on him and Valentine’s stepmom in the garden, all without having to bring the topic up himself. And then, he further ensnares Albert into trusting him whole-heartedly by sharing a seemingly deeply personal detail with him, making the kid think he views them as equals and partners, playing to his desire to be part of something grand like a fiddle. He pulls people close and gets them on his side... all so he can pull the rug out from under them without them even realizing who pulled the rug in the first place.

And Jesus FUCK, does the particular rug-pull in this set of episodes leave a terrifying impression. We actually get what might a concrete piece of his backstory: he’s the illegitimate child of an affair between Eugenie’s mom and Valentine’s dad. He’s a living, breathing product of the disastrous ways the parents in this show fucked up their love lives. And you can tell how much he’s enjoying taking them to task for it. The hand motions he makes to Valentine’s dad after Eugenie’s mom faints are some of the most taunting gestures I’ve ever seen, smug and self-assured just from a few flicks of the wrist. There’s a particular moment where he tells the dad that he has “no past to speak of,” and the barely concealed fury in his voice is so pointed you can feel a chill run down your spine. He doesn’t just want to brings these betrayals to light, he wants the ones responsible to know just how much he’s enjoying ruining their lives. And by the time they’re finally started catching onto his true, dark intentions, the game is already afoot and the pieces are all exactly where they’re supposed to be. There’s no backing out of this now; he’s got them all exactly where he wants them.

First Blood

And with the winds of storm howling overhead, this epic game finally claims its first victim; Valentine is dead, poisoned by her mother thanks to Monte Cristo breaking down her barriers and convincing her to give into her primal desires. Blood has been spilled tonight, and now no one can escape the web that’s been woven around them. And with the hints of what the Count’s really packing coming faster an furiouser- a mysterious “space illness” probably caused by the eldritch monster in his forehead, a mysterious presence he speaks to in the rain- it’s only going to get even more crazy from here. We’ve been setting up the dominoes for quite a while now, and at last, it’s time to bring them toppling down. Gankustuou’s about to get really damn crazy, folks. Consider my hyped as fuck to see what happens next.

Odds and Ends

-I think I’m getting better at handling this style overall, Though I do notice in some of these landscape shots, there’s both an Eiffel Tower and a half-constructed one. I wonder what that’s all about?

-”Our plans here have gone completely haywire!” When suddenly, rom-com.

-”He’s a blue-faced vampire!” Edouard is a peach.

-Listen, I don’t think he’s a vampire, but he’s not exactly making it any easier to disbelieve that possibility by holding a housewarming party in a haunted house.

-”I would like to forge bonds of friendship with you three gentlemen.” In before this turns into an Agatha Christie triple murder mystery,

-UM HOW DID HE JUST VANISH IS HE SERIOUSLY A VAMPIRE

-”I am the only one capable of understanding the count’s feelings.” Alright, who’s this punk?

Buckle up, folks, the roller coaster’s about to begin. See you next time!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #gankutsuou #the count of monte cristo

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mariequitecontrarie · 6 years

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Sleeping Arrangements

Summary: When Belle and baby Gideon come home from the hospital with Rumplestiltskin, he sets Belle and himself up in different bedrooms. Neither wants to sleep apart, but neither wants to say so. A/N: Follow-up to If Tomorrow Never Comes aka what would have happened if Belle and Rumple gave birth to Gideon together and all went home together. Awkward, estranged marriage bed-sharing, guys. Written for the October @a-monthly-rumbelling: “This can’t keep happening,” but I’m late. Thanks to @maplesyrupao3 for looking over this! Rating: T

On AO3

“You have everything you need in here?” Rumplestiltskin asked, pushing past the lump in his throat.

Belle stopped her careful appraisal of the guest bedroom, a generous smile curving her lips as she turned around. He hovered in the doorway, helpless to do anything but lean against the molding and stare. If he dared to let go of the doorframe, he would fall on his face at her feet.

Gods, she was beautiful. He’d admired her as his maid, loved her as his girlfriend, and adored her as his wife. Now that she was the mother of his son, his feelings for her had only deepened. Life seemed more real somehow, and infinitely more precious. It wasn’t just the two of them anymore.

Three-day-old Gideon was tucked into the crook of her left arm, cradled with the tender precision of a brand-new mother: firm because she was afraid of dropping him; ginger because she was afraid of breaking him. Nothing rivaled the nervousness and joy of holding your own child, but as much as he relished caring for Gideon, seeing Belle and their son together was its own miracle.

“Everything I need?” She giggled, then spun around the room slowly once more, careful not to jar their son. “Are you kidding? It’s like staying at a five-star hotel.” She shifted the baby onto her shoulder and peered at the bed fitted with his best silk sheets and the freshly washed and pressed duvet. “Rumple, are those chocolates on the pillow?”

He colored, wondering if he’d gone overboard in his desperation to make her feel welcome, and deflected the question with a sheepish smile. “Hopefully the food here is better than what they served in the maternity ward.”

At lunchtime this afternoon, while he had rocked Gideon as Belle rested, a hospital orderly had delivered a tray bearing a suspicious-looking hunk of meat covered in gray sauce accompanied by limp broccoli. He’d wrinkled his nose at the meal and gone to the nurses’ station, demanding they process Belle’s discharge papers posthaste. There would be no more nondescript, lukewarm blue plate specials on his watch.

“Dinner was fantastic.” She patted her full stomach with a contented sigh. “But you’ve been at the hospital with us day and night. When did you have the time to make seafood stew?”

Thanks to Dove, his personal assistant, the rich, hearty scents of shellfish, vegetables, and saffron had perfumed the house when they’d stumbled into the house carrying Gideon and a case of diapers as wide as the front door. “I had some help,” he admitted. “Dove is actually quite a cook.”

“I never would have guessed,” she murmured, smiling even through her exhaustion.

It was still early evening, but dark shadows stood out beneath her eyes, pronounced against her ivory skin. Between Gideon’s round-the-clock needs, the wails of other babies being born, and the revolving door of hospital staff poking and prodding her at all hours, Belle hadn’t slept much in the hospital.

He gave the room one last critical assessment and nodded in satisfaction. Bottled water and a sparkling, crystal glass sat on the nightstand, all of Belle’s clothes were folded and placed in bureau drawers or hanging in the closet, and in the kitchen, her favorite foods lined the pantry and refrigerator shelves. The overnight bag from the hospital had already been emptied and stashed in the closet.

His chest felt hollow, and he took a slow, deep breath, an attempt to fill that empty, inside-out space. He was grateful beyond words to have Belle home, but seeing her in the guest bedroom--a space she had decorated herself in shades of royal blue and gold during the early, tender days of their marriage--was bittersweet.

On the evening they’d spoken their wedding vows at the well, life had been bright and new, filled with possibility. Yet the shadow of Baelfire’s death and his gruesome months in captivity stood between them like an impenetrable iron wall. He couldn’t stop blaming himself for his endless parade of transgressions, and Belle couldn’t stop ignoring their problems and trying to make the best of things.

Their rushed engagement amid lies about the dagger had been no way to enter a marriage. One hasty reconciliation, whirlwind trip to the Underworld, wild goose chase in New York City, abbreviated pregnancy, and new baby later, they’d agreed to put the past behind them. It was time to make a fresh start for the sake of their son.

At best, he had hoped for a relaxed visitation schedule and the occasional overnight with Gideon. Belle’s desire to make a home here again was a dream come true. But he wasn’t fooling himself. Everything Belle was sacrificing by moving here was for Gideon, not for him.

As with all major decisions he made, he’d given careful consideration to offering her the second-best bedroom in the house. Rather than stammer and stumble his way through excuses and empty the room they had once shared, he’d opted to outfit the largest guest suite with the most luxurious appointments money could buy in the shortest amount of time possible. Dove had arranged for a hand-painted bureau with a secret compartment, an antique Aubusson carpet in plush blues and soft creams, cozy bookshelves, and a king-size bed to be delivered and ready for Belle when she arrived.

He would have gladly turned over the master suite if not for his paranoia. Sleeping arrangements. They had a way of turning the most benign circumstances into an awkward mess, and this situation was highly unusual. The idea of living under the same roof with Belle and not sharing a bed was already driving him mad. He didn’t expect to make love to her, not when he’d just watched her deliver their son, but he ached to hold her close.

He didn’t sleep much. An unfortunate side-effect of being the Dark One was an exhaustive supply of nervous energy. When he and Belle had been together, crawling into bed and resting in her arms had calmed the storm inside him. She’d given his nights a purpose and made him feel almost human.

But no matter how much he missed lying next to her, sharing his bed was the last thing Belle would want.

Growing restless, Gideon squirmed, whinnying like a foal. Gold opened his arms and Belle handed him their son with a grateful sigh. They might not be compatible as husband and wife anymore, but they were fast becoming adept at co-parenting, seeming to know by instinct when the other person needed help or relief.

The accidental bump of her shoulder against his made his insides puddle, and he focused on the tiny vertical lines above their son’s nose. Rumplestiltskin didn’t know if he would ever grow accustomed to Belle’s touch. Since the day their lives collided in her father’s castle, it took nothing more than the brush of fingertips, a tender look, or a hot cup of tea from this woman to render him a fumbling, babbling disaster.

Fears of Morpheus’s prophecy that he would destroy the two people in the world who meant the most festered like an open sore. What if it was all true? What if he did the wrong thing again? What if he’d broken things so badly they could no longer be fixed? His family wasn’t a chipped cup he could piece together with glue and promises.

No, he wouldn’t succumb to his own negative self-talk. Belle had taken the first step in asking to come home with him. It was up to him to take the next. He took another deep breath and plodded ahead.

“Belle, before we settle in for the night, would you like to see the nursery?”

Three weeks later

Her stomach growling with hunger, Belle splashed her face with cool water. While she patted her puffy, red face with a soft towel, she glanced at Gideon, gurgling in his bouncy seat on the bathroom floor.

He was too little to play with the toys dangling above his just head yet, but he could enjoy the soothing sounds and lights of the toy rainforest and the plastic monkey’s goofy smile. All that really mattered now was the seat held his attention long enough for her to wash her face and make herself presentable.

Gideon looked up at her with wide, trusting eyes, the irises already several shades darker than when he’d been born almost one month ago. Mother’s instinct told her their son would inherit the amber-flecked brown eyes of his father, and she was both glad and afraid. Rumple had intelligent, beautiful eyes capable of penetrating the flesh and piercing a person’s soul. When he looked at her, Belle always had the sense there was nothing he couldn’t see. Every part of her being was laid bare for him. A shiver of awareness coursed through her, and she covered her face with the damp towel again before Gideon could sense what a foolish mess his mother was.

Stop being an idiot, Belle, she scolded herself. He’s a baby.

She scooped Gideon up and trudged down the stairs toward the kitchen dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, a smile plastered to her face. The aromas of bacon, toast, and coffee were trailing up the staircase, and a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. Rumple was so thoughtful. She paused at the bottom of the stairs to wipe her red-rimmed eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Bloody stupid tears!

Last night, she’d cried until she fell asleep for the fifth night in as many days, pressing her face into the pillow to muffle the sobs. She didn’t want to wake Gideon and worry Rumple. If he suspected something was wrong, he would be across the hall in a flash, and he wouldn’t rest until she blubbered out all her worries and went back to sleep. There were plenty of problems to blame the tears on—a reduced milk supply thanks to her accelerated pregnancy, hormone spikes, the exhaustion of waking up every two hours to feed and change an infant.

But none of those things truly bothered her. What kept her awake and crying into the designer sheets were the sleeping arrangements. More than anything, she wanted to share a bed with her husband again. There was such comfort in his presence, strong, warm, and reassuring in the bed beside her. She missed his kisses and the steadiness of his arms around her, his breath on her face, faintly minty from toothpaste and magic, his dark eyes glittering with amusement while they shared stories about their day until Belle was too drowsy to talk anymore. While they were married he never went to sleep before her, always waiting until she had drifted off to take his own rest or to sneak downstairs to work or spin.

What right did she have to complain, though? He’d outfitted the guest suite like she was royalty and waited on her like she had broken both her arms. And Gideon’s nursery! Decorated in grey and gold and with the same crib Snow and David had chosen for Emma back in the Enchanted Forest, it was a room fit for a prince. It pained her to tell Rumple she preferred to keep their son next to the bed in a bassinet until he was old enough to sleep through the night without needing to nurse or take a bottle.

Nonplussed, Rumple had immediately gone online and ordered the most luxurious bedside baby cradle he could find.

His determination to do everything was worrying her. Since she’d come home, he’d spent day and night working himself into a shadow. He prepared hearty, delicious meals and hovered until she cleared her plate, brought Gideon to her when she was able to nurse, and gave him a bottle when she couldn’t. Always willing to rock or walk Gideon, he would leave her to read or nap. She wasn’t angling to be alone, though. She wanted her husband. “The Dark One doesn’t need sleep,” he would say, clicking his tongue whenever she protested or tried to share the workload.

She was feeling pampered, spoiled, and pissed off.

But Rumple was another story. Never had she seen him so content. Even from here in the front hallway, she could hear him in the kitchen, rattling pans and humming an off-key tune while he flipped eggs in a skillet. Every request and every need—whether it came from her or Gideon—brought a delighted smile to his face. Their too-brief time with Neal had shown her Rumple was an excellent father, but caring for a baby was balm for his battered spirit. Maybe it was silly but in a way, Gideon’s arrival made her feel like Neal was with them again.

So what if her heart fluttered whenever her husband entered the room or the sound of him reciting poetry to the baby made her breath quicken? His interest in her didn’t stretch beyond her position as the mother of his child. He wanted Gideon in his life, and she was lucky enough to be along for the ride.

No, she refused to let Rumple see her selfishness. All telling the truth would lead to was heartache. And they had suffered more than enough pain for ten lifetimes.

Her eyes dry and her smile in place, she marched into the kitchen with their son in tow.

One week later

Belle awoke from a sound sleep to the sound of pitiful wails. Groggy, she blinked, trying to figure out who was crying and why. Before she gained enough awareness to turn toward the cradle sitting eighteen inches from the bed, a shape was filling the doorway, backlit by the nightlight in the hallway.

“Belle,” Rumple whispered, his slippered feet shuffling across her bedroom carpet. “Are you alright, sweetheart? What do you need?”

She jolted up in bed and rubbed her eyes, knocking her pillows to the floor. He had to stop waking up during the night and crossing the hall this way. It was madness. “This can’t keep happening,” she blurted, groping for the switch on the bedside lamp.

Between the foot of her bed and the cradle, Rumple froze, suspended in time while Gideon’s cries rose in volume and urgency. A muscle ticked in his jaw and he blanched, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“Of course. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll go.” His voice was wooden, remote; like it belonged to a stranger.

“Wait, Rumple-”

Her stomach plummeted into her knees. She hadn’t meant the words they way they sounded, but before she could explain, he was out of her room and halfway across the hall. She scrambled out of bed to chase after him, reaching out to snag the tie on the back of his dressing gown as he crossed into the master suite. She yanked him into the hallway, his back colliding with her chest. He teetered on the balls of his feet and she slipped her arms around his waist and held on.

She was breathing like she’d run a marathon, her heart squeezing inside her chest until she thought it would crumble into dust. Gods, she had tried! She had tried to make it seem like sleeping in the guest room without him while he stayed across the hall didn't bother her and she'd gotten good at pretending she was fine. But she wasn't.

Nothing about this arrangement was even remotely fine.

Last week, she had brushed an imaginary fuzzy out of his cropped hair for the sheer pleasure of feeling its softness between her fingers. Since he’d cut off his shaggy brown locks, she had no more excuses to push wayward strands behind his ears. Yesterday, there had been an eyelash on her cheek, and she’d held her breath in anticipation while he cupped her jaw and swept it away, the spicy scent of the lasagna he baked for dinner still lingering on his fingers.

Inventing excuses to be near him or relying on accidental touches was more than she could bear. She would rather live somewhere else than be under the same roof with him and be treated like his maiden aunt or long-lost sister or even worse, the pathetic charity case he had once loved.

He stiffened in her grasp, and she tightened her arms around his waist, determined to hold onto him no matter what. His torso was leaner than her hands remembered, wiry from worry.

Their son continued to cry, his lungs rivaling the Storybrooke High School’s marching band. Her milk started letting down, wetting the front of her nightgown and probably soaking into the back of Rumple’s nightshirt, but nursing Gideon would have to wait. She needed to clear the air.

Maybe she had turned into a bloated, unreliable milk machine, but she was human and Rumple was a handsome man. She wasn’t the only one who found him attractive, either, she thought miserably. There had been others, most recently the Evil Queen, a woman who differed from her in every way imaginable. That harpy had chased him like a bitch in heat and Zelena couldn’t wait to tell her about it.

But she was here now, and Rumple was still wearing his wedding ring. He was her husband and she was going to fight for him.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she clarified, murmuring against his shoulder. “I meant you getting up during the night and coming across the hall to get Gideon.”

He slipped out of her arms and turned to face her in the dim hallway. The only light came from a small lamp at the end of the corridor, but it was enough to see the wariness in his eyes. “I understood you the first time, Belle.”

“No.” She tilted her head, trying to read his face in the dark. “I don’t think you understand me at all.” She twisted her fingers together. This agonized, consuming jealousy was utterly wretched. “Is it because of her? The Evil Queen. Do-do you miss her?”

“Gods, no!” His face was haggard, regret etched into the lines around his mouth. “I told you in the hospital there was nothing. She was nothing. It was a business arrangement, and I let her believe what she wanted. And after what she did to us...to you…” His voice hardened. “She’s lucky she’s not dead.”

Belle shuddered. She didn’t want anyone to die because of her, but she’d be happy not to see that despicable woman ever again for the rest of her days. And she certainly didn’t want Regina’s evil twin running her blood-red fingernails all over her husband.

“Listen.” She touched her finger to his lips finding them soft and dry. She shivered, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and kiss him senseless.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s the sound of nothing.” She cocked her head and savored the blissful silence. “Gideon stopped crying all on his own.”

Rumple shoved his hands in the pockets of his robe with a wry smile and stepped back. “Perhaps he didn’t need me after all.”

Belle recognized that look--he was trying to shut her out. Well, she wasn’t going to allow it this time. She moved closer to him, stepping into his space and smoothing her hands down his shoulders. “Not for the moment, no. But he does need you. And so do I. Not what you can do for me—not how well you cook or entertain Gideon or order Dove to redecorate. Just you. Your presence. The sound of your voice. Your arms around me.”

Admitting she missed him, saying the words out loud, made her feel free. It was okay to admit she needed him. She craved his touches, his kisses, the way he used to look at her like she made a difference in his world. All her life, people had admired her beauty, but Rumple was the only person who ever made her feel beautiful.

“What about you, Rumple?” she asked. “What do you need?”

The next thing he knew, she was leading him by the hand back into her bedroom. Confused, he stumbled along behind her like a drowsy child. “Where are we going? I don’t understand.”

She had the audacity to grin at him, her teeth flashing in the low light. “We’ve established that,” she whispered.

She pulled back the covers on the smooth side of the bed-- his side, he realized. She was still sleeping on the right side of the bed as though they were sharing it. Whenever they’d been apart, it had become his habit to lie down on her half of the bed, imagining he could still detect her scent in the sheets. Sometimes he would even hold a pillow against his chest and pretend it was Belle. It was foolishness, but it helped him make it through the long, lonely hours of the night alone.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders, soft but insistent, and she pressed him down on the bed. “Belle, what are you doing?” His voice sounded loud in the still, cool room. From the cradle, Gideon whiffled in his sleep.

“Shhh,” she said, pushing him onto his back and combing his hair off his face with his fingers. Her touch felt amazing and he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh, mesmerized by the warmth of her fingers against his skin. She crawled into bed next to him and pulled the blankets over them both. “Stay here with me? I know you say you don’t need the rest, but you’ve been working so hard doing everything for Gideon and me.”

“Alright,” he conceded, but he lay on his back with his eyes open, as rigid as a statue. She switched off the bedside lamp and he stared into the blackness, trying to catch his breath. The mattress was soft, the sheets warm from her body and luxurious, but he felt as though he was strapped to a gurney.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked. He felt the mattress move as she scooted closer.

Comfortable? He couldn’t even remember the meaning of the word. All he was aware of was Belle. Her scent, her warmth. Gods, he was half-dizzy with her closeness. “Ah, are you?” he countered.

“Yes.”

Something about her tone made him shiver. She slid one of her legs over his, her clammy feet tickling the hair on his calves. He bit back a groan. “Do you need another blanket?” he asked after a moment.

“No, thank you.”

She snuggled even closer until her breasts were pressed against his side. He could feel the dampness of her nightgown where her milk had wet the fabric and a tug of arousal pulled at his groin.

“An extra pillow? I could fetch one from the closet.” He sounded out of breath. Was it getting warmer in here? His heartbeat sped up and his lungs struggled to take in oxygen. “Maybe we should switch on the ceiling fan?”

Her laughter was muffled. “You just offered a blanket. I’m good. Let’s just relax and try to rest. Unless you want the fan on?” She wrapped her arms around one of his with a contented sigh, holding onto his forearm like a child might clutch a doll or a stuffed bear.

“Not if you don’t.” He was at a loss. Surely there was something he could do for her.

They lay in silence for a few minutes and he tried to relax, but each tick of the clock on the nightstand sounded like a hammer and the pillow behind his head felt like a boulder. “I’m supposed to take care of you,” he said desperately. “It’s my job.”

“Rumple, you’ve been wonderful. No one could take better care of Gideon and me than you have. But not everything is about me or our son. I asked you before and you didn’t answer. What do you need?”

The tears came then, hot and urgent. He didn’t know the source of this maelstrom of emotion, only that he was in perfect control one moment and sobbing like a babe the next.

“Rumple. My Rumple.” Belle guided him into her arms, urging him to rest his head against her chest. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried, great wracking sobs that shook his body and stole his breath.

“I need my wife.” He clutched at her waist, the words stuttering out in a jagged, tear-choked whisper. “I need my wife.”

“You have me, darling, you have me. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.” She cradled him in her arms, stroking his back and rocking him like she did Gideon and he shamelessly allowed it. He wept for the loss of Bae, his fears and failures, his poor treatment of Belle, who was still by his side no matter what he’d done.

All the while he clung to her and cried, she whispered reassurances, anchoring him in the shelter of her embrace. Soaking the top of her nightgown, he gobbled up her crooning words and healing touch until his heart resembled melted wax, his strength drained away with the tears that had left his body. Exhausted, he slumped against her breasts, calming himself with the steady beat of her heart under his ear.

Never in his life had he cried this way, not even after that enormous, green pit in the ground had swallowed Baelfire, taking him to another land, while he had clung to his precious knife and clawed for purchase in the dirt, too terrified of the unknown to follow his boy. Those tears had been building inside him for centuries, into a hard, cold mass of hurt, turning his heart into a wretched, brittle thing. At last, he had allowed himself to be broken.

“Belle.” He reached for her face and when he stroked her cheeks, he found them damp with her own tears. He didn’t know if she was crying with him or because of him, but he pressed his lips against hers in an urgent, seeking kiss, groaning as the salt of their tears mingled with the sweetness of her mouth. He poured all the love he felt for her into his kiss and she opened for him, accepting what he offered and returning it full measure.

“I didn’t bring you here just for Gideon,” he confessed hoarsely when he released her mouth, his breath ragged. “I wanted you here because I love you.”

She pressed her kiss-swollen lips together in a tremulous smile. “I didn’t ask to come here just for Gideon, either. I love you, too. Oh, Rumple, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve hated being us being apart.”

“You have?” His surprise was genuine. “But I’ve been here with you every day. I haven’t used magic, I’ve been spending fewer hours at the shop...”

“And I appreciate all of it.” She lay down again, drawing his head down to her chest once more and began to stroke his hair. “But you’ve been keeping your distance from me. You think what I want is a caretaker, but you’re wrong. I want us to raise Gideon together—as a family. And no more separate bedrooms, okay? I need someone who’s going to appreciate my snoring and you can’t do that from across the hall.”

He snorted. “You do snore. Rather loudly.”

“What did you say?” She swatted him lightly with a pillow.

“I said as you wish.” Grinning, he lifted his head and rubbed his nose against hers, and they both laughed. He couldn’t remember when he had ever felt this light and happy. “Are you going to hog the covers, too, Mrs. Gold?”

“Always.” Her smug tone made him laugh again. “What about you?” She poked him in the ribs, softening the attack with another kiss. “Are you going to lie awake watching me sleep?”

“Every night,” he whispered, settling back against her breasts and wrapping his arms around her waist.

His eyes were already closing as she began to stroke his head again. And with her hands in his hair and the cadence of her heartbeat in his ears, Rumplestiltskin found sleep.

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#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #rumplestiltskin x belle #gold family #awkward married bedsharing #rumbelle angst #mqc writes #a monthly rumbelling

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