in less than a month i'll get the keys to the HOUSE I BOUGHT and i'm so scared i'll fuck everything up

ye olde Stress(TM) Reaction strikes again, aka the start of this was sitting in my drafts for weeks because my brain hates me apparently:

.

“So...considering how last time went, why are we being dragged into this?” Steve Rogers heard Clint ask, and he tried not to freeze or blush, and, if Natasha was anything to go by, failed miserably at both.

“I mean,” Clint continued and it took far more willpower than it should have to not glare at the teammate who regularly ate whipped cream out of the can because he should not be sounding so amused, “after what happened, why are the Avengers being invited, again?”

Alright, that did it— but before Steve could do more than turn to give his teammate the same glare he normally reserved for when Loki destroyed the top part of his uniform again, Agent Coulson gave a very tired sigh and spoke.

“Partly because multiple ambassadors liked your response time when the pink elephants made an appearance on the premises, partly because von Doom specifically requested you all. By name.”

 Across the table, Tony gave an incredulous scoff as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “And what, you’re letting a literal dictator call the shots?”

“Grumpy because he mentioned you too, aren’t you.” Clint smirked before Agent Coulson could say anything else, and Steve really, really tried not to scowl. Honest.

However, he couldn’t help but notice the way Tony’s expression went suspiciously blank, and something in the pit of his stomach clenched as Tony shifted in his seat a little.

“Okay, so maybe we weren’t finished before Loki interrupted. I didn’t hear any of you guys complaining.”

“That was you ‘gathering intel’?” Natasha asked, and Steve pointedly ignored her sidelong glance, “I thought you were looking pretty friendly there. Way more emotion than we’ve ever seen from von Doom before, anyway.”

Steve couldn’t help but snort. Understatement of the century, Steve hadn’t missed the venom in von Doom’s glare. If not for Loki barging in when he did, there would have been an international incident, and Steve wouldn’t have regretted it one bit.

“As... controversial as he is,” Agent Coulson rubbed his temples for a moment, “Latveria’s a very hot commodity right now, and State Department’s pushing for trade agreements. We can’t afford to alienate him.”

Everyone looked at him, and he fought to keep his shoulders from rising up. “If he’s got a problem with one of my team, don’t expect me to play nice.”

“My hero,” Tony rolled his eyes and so missed the way Clint’s shoulders shuddered, “Steve, I had it under control.”

“Nay, lord Stark.” Thor cut in, and Steve did not miss the way Agent Coulson’s eye twitched even as Clint got a very sudden and convenient coughing fit as the resident alien continued, “I am afraid you did not. I may not be familiar with Midgardian politics, but I do not believe duels are as acceptable here as they are back home.”

Everyone paused at that, and the silence was abrupt enough to startle Doctor Banner out of his reverie.

“Wait, what happened?” He asked, looking up from his tablet, and Steve couldn’t help but envy the fact that he was exempt from this. Sure, the risk of having the Hulk at a UN function would have been nothing less than a recipe for disaster, but at least Steve wouldn’t be suffering though this alone— case in point, this entire debrief.

“Oh, just how Tony almost caused an international incident last time.” Natasha said and Bruce made a strange face for a second before he peered over his glasses to look at everyone else around the table.

“Well, is Justin going to be at this next one?”

All eyes were now on Tony, who scowled and looked away even as he replied, “It’s one of the annual year-end fundraisers, of course he’s going to be there.”

Agent Coulson let out a slow breath. “You are certain you cannot convince him otherwise?”

Tony’s shoulders hunched almost imperceptibly. “It’s tradition at this point. Everyone knows I’m going to be there, so he’s going— and I’ll save us both the time, the man’s about as stubborn as I am.”

“You’re sure about that?” Clint asked, gaze suddenly sharp and the look he shared with Agent Coulson and Natasha abruptly reminded Steve of the exact circumstances in which Iron Man was born.

“The number things I’ve seen him accomplish out of sheer spite is...” Tony trailed off, before he shook his head and looked around the table. “It’s something. Pretty sure the only reason Hammer Industries didn’t come out with another element after I did is because it’d be breaking the laws of physics, and even then part of me was half-expecting otherwise.”

Tokiya Ichinose (Repeat) Memorial

Translator: Koto (twitter: kotowari16)

Proofreader: Mimi (twitter: _mimisaurora)

The HAYATO within me

“Ohayaho~!  How are all the 10 million HAYATO fans in the nation doing nya?“

Even after disclosing my identity to Haruka, I continued playing HAYATO as I had always done.

It’s because of her.

I’m sure she’s watching this program during this very moment.

I am HAYATO now.

I am HAYATO, her favorite idol.

I wonder how she feels while watching this program, now that she knows his true identity….

Maybe she thinks there’s no difference between me and HAYATO.

Maybe she’s more a fan of me, who’s human and the original, rather than the superficial entity that is HAYATO.

As for me, however, I really can’t think about me being the same as HAYATO.

I was actually terrified when I revealed my identity to her. 

I’m sure it must have come as a shock to her when she learned that the true identity of the idol she adore is me.

I’m sure it must have made her said to learn that this being called HAYATO is fictional. 

At the same time, I was also anxious that she might end up hating me again.

I am her partner, yet I have always continued to lie to her.

If the same thing happened to me, I’d be furious…. Or even more, I might not be able to trust the other person anymore.

However….

She accepted my secret.

“That you were the same as the HAYATO-sama I’ve come to adore…. You’re trying really hard in earnest to hide a passion that doesn’t lose to anyone.”

Even though I was happy when she said that…

Being considered the same entity as HAYAYO is frustrating after all.

An immature jealousy, if I say so myself.

But I am me. HAYATO is something else.

I’m very well aware of that, so I want her to say that she loves me, rather than HAYATO.

“Well then~ bye bye nya!”

I disliked how I had grown so accustomed to being HAYATO that I could manage this program with a smile while harboring such warped thoughts.

“Yo! Hayato, good job. Good job again today!”

“Thanks for your hard work! Thanks for the compliment nya.”

Even when the cameras aren’t rolling, I end up flashing that smile in a reflex.

It’s the right thing to do for HAYATO, for Ichinose Tokiya it only feels like a humiliation.

But even then, as a professional I do my job with pride.

I won’t allow myself a single compromise.

I cannot afford to compromise.

Even if I only have Ohayaho~news recording in the morning, or some other shoot throughout the day, on days when I have to play HAYATO, I am mentally exhausted. It’s so bad I can’t even muster the energy to do anything anymore when I return to my room.

If I could, I’d like to spend the time alone, quietly in my room, while listening to my favorite music, or reading a calm story that would help me relax.

The dorms, however, have shared rooms.

And on top of that, I share my room with that loud guy.

The dream of having a quiet life, has become a dream again…

“To~kiya. Wanna eat a rice cracker?”

“I don’t.”

“But these are REALLY delicious! Masa got them as a souvenir.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s delicious or not. These are not calorie-free, so if I’d eat them at this time…. Fuguh”

All of a sudden, I had a piece of rice cracker tossed into my mouth.

“Waf fo you fin’ you a’ foin’…?”

I had no choice but to chew the rice cracker in my mouth.

However, …

It certainly did taste good.

“And? Delicious, right!?” 

Otoya asked me with a grin on his face.

“Yeah, well…. But…”

I didn’t mess up my perfect calorie counting, did I? 

Good grief.

“Are you worried about your weight? Then you just gotta move as much as you eat! Here, take this.”

All of a sudden, he pushed something that looked like a controller in both my hands.

“I this boxing game from Syo today! I really want to do a match. It’s alright if you just hold the controller like this and push around like this “bam bam”. Easy, right?”

“………………………………………..”

Just why is this guy so pushy?

“I won’t.”

I threw the controller away.

I aimed for a place that had some cushioning so that it wouldn’t, well, break.

But even at times I don’t want to dislike m personality. I did throw it to some place where it would be hard to break, after all.

“Come on, don’t say that, let’s play the game! I’m 100% sure it will be fun. Didn’t you want to burn the calories of what you just ate earlier?”

“…………………………………..”

I silently picked up the controller I had thrown away earlier.

He really is a noisy guy.

But as things go, he won’t listen to anything anyone else says. 

It would be nice if this finished quickly.

“I don’t intend to lose to you now that I’m playing.”

“Now you’re talking!”

He seemed happy when he started the game.

Well, since my opponent in this game is Otoya, there’s no need to go easy on him, and it seems like he’ll go all out.

“Ready... FIGHT!! Punch, punch, hook, straight!”

Otoya is clutching the controller, and his arms are shaking.

“That kind of punch won’t hit me. Here!”

“Oh, you did it.”

He’s quite happy even though his character on screen got killed, isn’t he?

“Good grief, I wonder why people like you are so loud. There are times when someone just wants to be alone. Won’t you leave me alone from time to time?!”

I was expressing my complaints when moving my arm.

“Nope!”

Otoya let out a sharp sigh…

“I also understand the feeling of wanting to be alone. I used to be that way.”

All of a sudden Otoya’s expression turned cloudy.

“But you know…. When you're alone, no matter how much time passes, you're still alone. If you can't understand something after thinking about it for a while, you won't ever understand it.”

Otoya seemed somehow sad when he spoke.

I thought he was nothing but a happy-go-lucky fool, but he can have that sort of expression as well…

“…………………………………………”

“Y’know, when I’m feeling down, I begin to talk at full force. I do think it’s a bit annoying. “

“If so, then why…?”

I asked him while fighting. 

If you understand how I feel, then why are you talking to me? Does he want to pester me? 

“Because I can escape.”

“What…?”

“People tend to work really hard for what’s right in front of them, so they don’t really have to worry about other things, right? If I’m loud around everyone, they’ll forget their own worries bit by bit. …”

“I’m talking with you.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m an idiot. That’s all I can do. Sorry.”

“………………………”

“Joke’s on you, while you’re being a little sad, here’s a STRAIGHT!!”

Otoya’s punch exploded and my character on screen suffered a knock out defeat.

“WHA-!?”

“I DID IT! VICTORY!”

He was laughing when he said that.

Did he just meant to lower my guard with this story, or was he telling the truth?

I can’t be certain about whether it’s true or false, but…

At least I can say that I am not like this guy, that’s what it is.

I don’t have that brightness. 

Even if I would, for example, accept Otoya and talk to him or joke around with the same energy he has, I couldn’t become the same kind of person he is.

I had become too bitter to be so honest about how I feel.

I had come to believe that to survive in the entertainment industry, it’s important to not confide in your surroundings too much….

That brightness that truly attracts people, that strength.

That’s something I don’t have.

No matter how many times I act it out, it could never become real.

HAYATO does have that unbounded brightness, and he’s strong.

As an idol, I’m not opposed to playing something I myself have not.

Because it’s my job.

However, ….

No matter how far I go, it can never become the real thing.

There are people who believe that the way I act out HAYATO is something real, and they admire him.

I wonder if that isn’t a terrible betrayal.

“Hm, what’s the matter? Are you sad because you lost to me?”

Otoya was looking at me innocently.

“That’s not it. I just was a little careless now. Let’s go one more time.”

“Alright! Let’s go, let’s go!”

I want to win.

…I want to win from this guy.

And from HAYATO as well.

Since we can’t ever become the same person, I want to at least beat him as myself.

That’s just one of the reasons I could never accept that song having anything that resembles HAYATO when I sing it at the graduation audition.

I wanted her to understand that.

I was hoping she does.

tw cocsa(?) | graphic description | sa

i need help. i need help defining what happened to me. it began when i was 4 or 5 and the other child was the same age. my sister and her friend were two years older than us so 6 or 7. they would make us (me and the other child) undress and touch each other's genitals while they watched from a corner. sometimes, they make us kiss. we were impressionable. we were young. we did it because big sister knew best. it went on for some years, maybe two. maybe three. it became a norm. a thing i had to do. whenever my sister had a friend who had a sibling who was roughly my age, i had to entertain them... sexually. if i wasn't made to show them my genitals, i had to put on a striptease for them, touch their genitals, kiss them. i was barely ten. i was made a sexual being before i was ready. and one time, i was climbing over a fence when this one kid (younger than me) poked me in my genitals before laughing. i was shamed for my outburst of anger. he was kid. he didn't know better... so was i. i was also a kid. i didn't know better. i became scared of the younger kid. avoided him at all costs. because if i avoided him then he wouldn't touch me again and it wouldn't hurt. all of this, the constant exposing, touching, poking, everything led me to be hypersexual with something short of a masturbation addiction. i have a horrible relationship with my body and intimacy. i have anxiety, depression, emotional dysregulation. i have extreme identity issues, a brittle sense of any belief i hold. i have deep feelings of shame and guilt. i cannot help but think i let this happen to myself. i need help. was this cocsa? or am i overdramatic?

Hi anon,

I'm sorry to hear about what happened. You're not being overdramatic at all. It's okay to be traumatized by this, and any feelings you have about this are valid.

It's understandable that you have concerns and questions about what happened to you. The experiences you described, where you were coerced into engaging in sexual activities at a young age, indicate that you may have experienced CSA, or more specifically, COCSA. Please know that you are not alone.

What happened to you was not your fault. As a child, you were unable to give informed consent or understand the implications of the situation. It's common for survivors to grapple with feelings of guilt, shame, and confusion. Please know that you deserve support and understanding.

It can be incredibly helpful to seek professional help from a therapist or counselor experienced in trauma and abuse, if you can access or afford it. They can provide a safe and nonjudgmental space for you to explore your experiences, process your emotions, and develop healthy coping strategies. Therapy can be a crucial step in your healing journey, allowing you to work through the impact of the abuse and find ways to rebuild a positive relationship with yourself and your body.

Ultimately, it's important to remember that healing takes time. You deserve support and care as you navigate this journey of recovery and reclaim your well-being. If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

Some character memes to celebrate my fanfic being finished! I’ll have it posted on AO3 later today after I’m finished with my classes. For now though, enjoy my rambling bullshit lol.

I’ll put some explanations below the keep reading so no one gets a wall of text on their dash.

Maurice:

OH MY BOY. MY DARLING BOY. I am him and he is me. Every time I read the book or watch the movie, I see so much of myself in him (excluding the misogyny). Hence why I cannot treat him with any gentleness nor care. I have to dissect him and see what’s going on in there, because maybe if I can understand him, I can understand myself a bit better too. We should also both go to therapy. That should definitely happen.

(Headcanon: he is autisitc. That’s it that’s the headcanon. I will not be taking any criticism but if you want an explanation just lemme know.

EDIT: I am kicking myself in the face for forgetting this. I also headcanon Maurice as a househusband if/when they can afford it. He just gives off that vibe and I love that for him.)

Alec:

HOLY FUCK DID FORSTER PUT COCAINE IN THIS MAN WHEN HE MADE THIS CHARACTER???? He is my favorite character and my current king blorbo. I want nothing more than a small version of this little lad to carry around in my pocket. I adore him. He’s perfect. Desperately looking for a woman like him in the real world to wifey. I’m in love. I am an Alec Scudder stan first, a lesbian second, and a person third. Maurice has an A+, lesbian approved, shiny gold star, taste in men. The fact that Alec calls himself ‘rough and ugly’ makes me want to sob because he’s NOT. He’s literally a sweetheart and the goodest cutest boy around.

(Headcanons: 100% a wife/husband-guy. Literally loves his spouse more than anything and finds any form of ‘i hate my spouse’ joke stupid. Is definitely a mama’s boy. Also, he likes poetry about nature (Walt Whitman especially) and wants to visit the US some day. He is a total nature nerd and had he had the resources, I swear this man would’ve been a naturalist or something of the like.)

Kitty:

Look. I know there’s barely any information about her in the book and movie. But what if I told you I was in love with her? She stands up to Maurice when he’s being a world-class asshole, and isn’t afraid to chew his ass out in the epilogue for leaving the family (although he was justified in doing so). Something something passionate smart women something something incredibly attractive. Also, because there isn’t a whole lot stated about her in canon, I can go insane and project :)

(Headcanon: the hottest femme lesbian you’ll find in 1910s england ;) )

Clive:

TikTok come get ya mans. Look, I’ll be dead honest I don’t like Clive, but I don’t like the complete villainization of him either. He made a choice many queer men had to make during that time period. I will NEVER dislike Clive because he ended the relationship with Maurice. He was trying to keep himself safe and out of prison.

I WILL HOWEVER hate him for HOW he went about his relationship with Maurice. Throughout the book/movie he dismisses Maurice’s feelings (including when Maurice was expressing suicidal ideation). He treats Maurice as someone who will always be there when he needs him, but does not reciprocate this for Maurice, going so far as to leave Maurice at his estate alone for days at a time like some sort of pet. He isn’t as bothered by the end of their relationship, because for him it was never really THE end. He never expected Maurice to find someone else.

Clive couldn’t love Maurice in the way he needed to be loved, Alec could.

(Headcanon: Clive was incredibly bitter and upset once he realized that Maurice had left for good with Alec. He wouldn’t learn about Alec and Maurice still being together after all these years until Chapman mentions that Ada told him that Kitty (long game of telephone going on here I know) saw Maurice with some man. He’d put two and two together really quick and would probably have another breakdown. Idk. He seems like the type to get pushed over by a strong gust of wind so I wouldn’t put it past him to breakdown over his first love still living happily with someone else, when it could’ve been him.)

Famous Bagels and Judith Butler to cure depression

Here's another one despite the ever present doom of what tf to do with my life. Another one because I quit my job and can't find a new one. Another one because my money is running out and I just really need a new email in my inbox so I can go out and buy a croissant. Another one because otherwise I will doom scroll until I need to pee.

Yesterday I went down a rabbit hole of looking into Judith Butler and now I need to loan Gender Trouble from the library because that is apparently my current obsession. The other four books I currently have on loan will not suffice, it must be this specific book on gender theory. Anything else I simply cannot give my attention to. I've tried - I started reading Hurricane Season and got absolutely fucked by the first four pages that now I need to wait until I'm feeling intelligent enough to reattempt. That book is not for the person who is stressing about their upcoming job interview. It will not crush that anxiety, the premise is too outrageous from the start. Then as I was waiting for the train I began to read Caleb Femi's poetry collection Poor and absolutely ripped through that to the point where nothing has remained in my brain. That was post-interview and I was too busy thinking about how I bombed in my nerves and how fucked the STAR method is. I am not hopeful but know that manifesting does work so should cheer tf up. The only thing that I believe can truly distract me from the growing depression (there, I admit it) I feel at the moment is Gender Trouble because I have always been good at creating new areas of interest not maintaining them. Things that I already like, put them in the trash. They are not enough for the coming storm, if previous experience is anything to go by.

I was waiting for the train to take me to Liverpool Street because I wanted to visit Brick Lane and treat myself after the interview. It ended up being nothing short of an unfocused, lonely outing where I couldn't afford anything and all the cafe's were too busy because it was 12pm and all the office and retail folk of E1 were eating. As if to remind me the only people who can afford to eat in this city are the employed, Matisse, the employed. I literally just interviewed for a job with a food rescue charity though so surely there's some connection there that gets me a seat at (one of) the table(s) (in your fine establishment)!!! Surely the attempt is enough. So I got a famous bagel and leaned against a closed shopfront and devoured it like a famished retail worker on their break (appearances matter in London). I browsed some stores but had no luck finding anything that fit, and so just found myself becoming really lonely. I haven't been proper lonely in a while, have had the pleasure of having a boyfriend for the past 7 years and we spend so much time together. I used to grow annoyed at not having as much alone time, thought I was the kind of recluse introvert destined for the cabins and mountains and isolated coastlines. But turns out I'm an extrovert too and need interaction with people to have a life worth living. And need even more so when I'm sad. This, while also having the complete delusion at the start of the day that maybe I'll just spend the whole day inside because that's what I feel like doing. No girl, you're wilfully deluded get up. So yeah, I'm proper getting sad and need a job so I can fill the hole with external pleasures. I've had enough of myself, the only thing I wanna do with myself now is read Gender Trouble and be better company when I am blessed enough to be in the presence of others.

Here's another one despite the ever present doom of what tf to do with my life. Another one because I quit my job and can't find a new one. Another one because my money is running out and I just really need a new email in my inbox so I can go out and buy a croissant. Another one because otherwise I will doom scroll until I need to pee.

Yesterday I went down a rabbit hole of looking into Judith Butler and now I need to loan Gender Trouble from the library because that is apparently my current obsession. The other four books I currently have on loan will not suffice, it must be this specific book on gender theory. Anything else I simply cannot give my attention to. I've tried - I started reading Hurricane Season and got absolutely fucked by the first four pages that now I need to wait until I'm feeling intelligent enough to reattempt. That book is not for the person who is stressing about their upcoming job interview. It will not crush that anxiety, the premise is too outrageous from the start. Then as I was waiting for the train I began to read Caleb Femi's poetry collection Poor and absolutely ripped through that to the point where nothing has remained in my brain. That was post-interview and I was too busy thinking about how I bombed in my nerves and how fucked the STAR method is. I am not hopeful but know that manifesting does work so should cheer tf up. The only thing that I believe can truly distract me from the growing depression (there, I admit it) I feel at the moment is Gender Trouble because I have always been good at creating new areas of interest not maintaining them. Things that I already like, put them in the trash. They are not enough for the coming storm, if previous experience is anything to go by.

I was waiting for the train to take me to Liverpool Street because I wanted to visit Brick Lane and treat myself after the interview. It ended up being nothing short of an unfocused, lonely outing where I couldn't afford anything and all the cafe's were too busy because it was 12pm and all the office and retail folk of E1 were eating. As if to remind me the only people who can afford to eat in this city are the employed, Matisse, the employed. I literally just interviewed for a job with a food rescue charity though so surely there's some connection there that gets me a seat at (one of) the table(s) (in your fine establishment)!!! Surely the attempt is enough. So I got a famous bagel and leaned against a closed shopfront and devoured it like a famished retail worker on their break (appearances matter in London). I browsed some stores but had no luck finding anything that fit, and so just found myself becoming really lonely. I haven't been proper lonely in a while, have had the pleasure of having a boyfriend for the past 7 years and we spend so much time together. I used to grow annoyed at not having as much alone time, thought I was the kind of recluse introvert destined for the cabins and mountains and isolated coastlines. But turns out I'm an extrovert too and need interaction with people to have a life worth living. And need even more so when I'm sad. This, while also having the complete delusion at the start of the day that maybe I'll just spend the whole day inside because that's what I feel like doing. No girl, you're wilfully deluded get up. So yeah, I'm proper getting sad and need a job so I can fill the hole with external pleasures. I've had enough of myself, the only thing I wanna do with myself now is read Gender Trouble and be better company when I am blessed enough to be in the presence of others.

Since I could not get the DDR pad to work I put on a video for basic DDR steps and tried to follow them that way. At least that way I won't fail out of it lol

Yeah I still got super winded by the first song. But I hope that this is the first step to get in better shape and get more stamina.

Other than that, my eyes are swollen from crying lol

I tried to ignore it, but that's not happening. Relationships are hard, being married is hard, and I feel unloved. Idk if it's a me thing, my husband swears he loves me and want to be with me and his feelings have not changed. But idk, I just feel like I don't make him happy. I feel like I should, like I should be enough but I'm not.

Idk, maybe it's me? He's enough for me. He makes me happy with him being around when he's actually in a good mood, but I don't do the same for him. I guess that's not fair, we're not the same people but idk. It just feels like no matter what I do for him, it's never enough, and he's never happy.

He's always upset about work, even when he's not there. And when he's not at upset he's angry about it, or having a mental breakdown about it, or trying to find anyway to get out of going to work when he knows we cannot afford it.

If I could just support us with my salary, I would, but I literally cannot. The only thing my salary will cover is the rent, and that's barely. Any other bills or even groceries, I cannot cover on my own.

And he knows this, but he wants to take all this time off like it'll help him and it won't. He'll be full of guilt because he's not working. Then he's going to be upset and stressed out for however long he's off work and instead of relaxing and being refreshed in any way when he goes back to work, he's just as stressed if not more stressed and it all gets worse.

I'm so tired but I love him and I just want him to get better. And he's finally going to therapy so I'm really hoping that he actually talks to them honestly and gets the help he needs but that also frustrates him because he expects to go and then be okay by the first session, but that's not how this works. Like, I wish just as much as he does that it was so I wouldn't have to feel so alone and helpless anymore but it doesn't.

My therapist says there's nothing I can do because I can't change how he thinks about things or himself but goddammit, what am I suppose to do in the meantime? Just watch him beat himself up? Watch him breakdown in panic attacks every other day until it does get better?

It's too much. I feel like I'm barely holding things together and I don't want to add my mental problems on top of what he's feeling but I have no one else to talk to. No one else that might understand.

I can talk to my mom, but all she tells me is that it's just how it is and if I didn't want to deal with it, I shouldn't have gotten married. She just won't let me vent or even tell me that it'll be okay It's just, "Well that's how marriage is, sucks doesn't it?" So I just don't bother telling her anything anymore.

And I make it sound like he's a terrible partner, he's not. I love him. He makes me happy when he's not stuck in a depressive spiral. We go out and do things, we play video games together or watch movies and shows together, and joke around and laugh and say silly and inappropriate things to each other and giggle like teenagers.

But goddamnit if this isn't so hard when he's not okay. I just want him to be the man I met and feel in love with who wasn't always a puddle of negativity and anxiety and panic and sadness and pain. And it just really fucking sucks that I can't do anything about it.

I expected more

My jewellery line went live last week. I promoted about it coming for a while too. Saturated maker, I know but I’m severely chronically ill and disabled and cannot do anything else. This is hard enough but I try as I have to or I won’t survive.

Honestly I did expect a sale or two. I guessed wrong!

I really expected more. Not a lot, like 1 or 2 orders maybe. I really did.

Disappointed. Mainly because I can’t work and struggle to afford 2 meals let alone any heating even though I am home 24/7.

I keep hoping, but I guess I was wrong. Same with printables, but I expected like 2 sales max, but lat least 1. Still zero. So embarrassing too.

I have spent so many hours on this too. Hundreds of hours.

I even ran a competition but that brought no sales and 600 entries.

I can’t afford to live and failing at trying to bring money in. Literally freezing constantly and hungry all the time.

I can’t take this.

I Need a Place to Vent

Hello, and welcome to my little corner of the Internet. I had many, many web sites over the years, and very few were a success. This time, I am not looking for anything. I just need a place to spew my random thoughts.

First, and foremost, I am not a writer. My English is poor, and posts will read like a 5th grade essay. I do not proofread, edit, or re-do stuff. I just type whatever is on my mind. If this bothers you, this blog is probably not for you.

With that out of the way, who am I? I am Jack, and I live in the middle of nowhere. Been here most of my life, and mostly keep to myself. I do not like drama, try to avoid confrontation, and am a hardcore introvert. Let’s see, what else? I have been married 24 years, have five old dogs, three step kids, a mortgage, and overwhelmed with life.

That is why I am making this blog. 

Around February 2022, my wife became nearly immobile. For the few years prior to that, she had a slow decline, to the point she had to use a walker. She would get winded after a few steps. Then bam, fell off a cliff. Metaphorically speaking. We do not know what caused it. She started having frequent falls, and they were so severe, EMTs were called out dozens of times in a very short period of time. She was in and out of hospitals. It was so severe, police were called out, social workers called, and everything fell apart. In fact, she was in ICU a bit for sepsis. I did not think she would pull through. She was finally sent to a bigger hospital out of town, and was in a nursing home for about 20 days. Since insurance only covered that much, she was sent back home with no help.

That is correct. Since insurance does not cover rehab, she was dumped here. There was no transport, either. An immobile senior had to somehow get into her daughter’s small car to come back home to a hapless spouse with no experience. We do not get respite, in home care, incontinence supplies, transport (6 round trips a YEAR, after, out of pocket!), physical/occupational therapy, and the list goes on and on. The biggest thing they do not cover is placing her in a facility. They do NOT cover SNFs. We do not qualify for MediCaid, because I make too much money, yet cannot afford the massive costs. We spent nearly $5,000 on a hospital bed that is yet to arrive. That’s a long and horrible tale in of itself. I’ll talk about that later. 

Anyhow, she needs round the clock care. Not only does she need round the clock care, I have to take care of my autistic step son who is nonverbal and needs round the clock supervision, and personal care, such as meals, bathing, helping with outings, doctor appointments, and more. So I have double the work. I am only one person, and the workload is overwhelming.

This is only scratching the surface, but this should be an overview of the situation here. We do not have lives. We are barely surviving, and the current arrangement is unsustainable for many, many reasons I will get into later. The bottom line is, I am overwhelmed, feel alone, and no escape. There’s simply no help. 

I think that is enough for today. Perhaps this will help me cope with things. Maybe I can post things that make me happy, too. Although happiness is in very short supply. I will not lie. There have been times I just did not want to carry on. There are days I want to not wake up in the morning. I do not look forward to waking up, and dread life. The only thing I look forward to is backbreaking caregiving. This is one small reason the American health care system is broken. Sadly, I doubt it is going to change anytime soon.

To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay 

--

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works. 

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well? 

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn. 

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?” 

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?” 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.” 

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.” 

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him. 

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.” 

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain. 

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?” 

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--” 

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me. 

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.” 

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--” 

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--” 

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--” 

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.” 

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.” 

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.” 

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.” 

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance. 

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy. 

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?” 

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.” 

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.” 

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.” 

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.” 

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me. 

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.” 

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

 I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip. 

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--” 

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.” 

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness. 

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine. 

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.” 

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?” 

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.” 

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.” 

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.” 

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.” 

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered. 

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning. 

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear. 

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips. 

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw. 

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me. 

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his. 

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever. 

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.” 

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.” 

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?” 

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.” 

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.” 

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly. 

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own. 

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.” 

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together. 

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.” 

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it. 

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.” 

how can I learn to live with myself? I'm afraid of allowing myself to be happy, because my happiness feels like a crime. I don't want to be a bad person, don't want to let anyone down, but I also don't want to pretend anymore. Only, I've been pretending for so long that I don't know who I really am. All my life, the only two options have been to be a disappointment or to be someone others are proud of- being myself has always been a terrifying concept that didn't fit between those two extremes. I feel so overwhelmingly frustrated by it all.

this is a question that is very difficult to answer  –  only because it is something you create for yourself. you are so wondrous in your own version of being that you are the only one capable of creating and answer for yourself.

the secret? that’s, maybe surprisingly, the fun part.

first and foremost: i believe that it is suffice to say that i’m not an expert, and like the other ask, all of this is my own opinion and i am not a licensed therapist. there are many types of certified resources you are able to access in learning about more certified and targeted specifies within therapy settings. even if you cannot afford it at the moment, there are many free resources out there that are a search away (like this one that shows the details of a few in particular!) that will give you a good place to start.

it’s important to know that you are not alone in your struggle; learning how to live is a lifelong experience (funnily enough). something that has helped me is knowing that we are infinitely adaptable and change-oriented beings, meaning who we are today is not necessarily who we have to be tomorrow. even if you make mistakes, you can learn and move past them, become better and kinder in the long run. 

just because you feel this way now, does not mean it will be like this forever.

here is the wonderful part, love: you get to find out now. there is an endless kind of possibility ahead of you; for happiness, for kindness, for wonder. you have everywhere ahead of you, a whole world’s worth of horderve trays to choose from. the best part? you can put things back if you don’t like it, and choose another. you are not stuck in anything, you always have a choice, even when it doesn’t feel like it, and maybe even most importantly then, too. 

you get to learn who you are now, and work towards who you want to be in the future. it can change at any point, and isn’t that amazing? you could be brand new at the end of the day, in both little and big ways. you are capable of infinite possibilities, and it may be a bit overwhelming to think about in that way, so here are some small integrations you might find helpful:

my advice for beginning? find a middle ground. you’ve been pulled between these two extremes for so long that it might feel strange to do anything else. at the start, see if others can compromise with you, especially as you learn that it’s okay to disappoint people and be proud of yourself in their stead. it won’t be easy at first, but it’ll be worth it, and there is a certain kind of bravery in that.

in time with yourself, creating new habits that help you re-focus on prioritizing your happiness over the expectations of others is something that is a wonderful place to begin, especially when it comes to daily activities. try a nice 1:1 ratio for the first few times, where for each thing you do to make others happy, do something for yourself, and then add more and more as the days go, as you begin to enjoy the habits you’re creating, as you learn you do not always have to do something for others to deserve something for yourself.

there’s so much out there waiting for you. favourite albums, new art, new friends to meet who will love you for you, and so, so much more. in the meantime, in the getting-there space of it all, there is something very important to do: have fun. take silly personality quizzes. watch movies and keep a log of what you like and what you could do without. put together a mindmap of what you like and what you believe and what you want. you will become clearer to yourself, like this; finding all the little things that make you, you.

and in time, with each day coming and going and all of your activities and experiences and feelings you collect and learn, you will choose who you become, like this: an endless assortment of possibilities. 

your happiness is a joy. it’s a gift you get from the world, the way it feels like the whole sky within you, wind and light and every star. it's elation you get to hold inside of you until it bursts, overflows, and it spills out. there is so much joy in just simply being that it will fill your days with wonderful things. 

go for walks, read books, watch shows, buy things to run your fingers over the surface and marvel in the fact that we can create, and that you can too. there is nothing more admirable that we are able to create more than ourselves. and you’re going to be amazing, love, i just know it.

wishing you all my best, that your frustration eases, and that joy is an easier thing for you to hold very, very soon.  💛

Do yu have any post-Reformation/Post canon headcanons

Oooh, several. I hope you're up for a lot of reading :P . Most of these could probably get their own post eventually, or they already have, so I'll try to keep each point brief, but I am likely to fail

- Tahu gets his Nuva powers back at some point. I like to think it's in the big life wave at the end of the story that revitalizes Spherus Magna and undoes the Pit Mutations and everything else. Other characters do refer to him as Tahu Nuva after this point, and someone once asked Greg if it could have happened then, and his response was "I didn't plan on it, but it could have happened," so I choose to believe it did. Alternatively, I could also see him regaining his Nuva status some other way later on, possibly at the cost of his Rahkshi powers and it's this grand thing about Tahu choosing unity with his team over solo power or some such sweet thing.

- On a related note, Tahu is also returned to his 08 colours at some point. Either as a result of his re-Nuvafication, or through some other means. Maybe Artakha gets back and sees that someone as not only depowered one of his children, but he no longer matches the rest of the team's colours as well, and that of course cannot be allowed to stand. Or maybe Takanuva changes him back with his light powers.

- Speaking of, the day Takanuva discovers he can change the colour of anything with his powers, including other people's armour and not just his own, will be a day of utter chaos.

- The Toa Mahri never adopt a sixth member. Takanuva will join them from time to time, but he's more of an honorary member, like he is to the Toa Nuva. They typically say that the reason for this choice is because no other Toa is quite like them, and having a sixth member that doesn't share their unique abilities would only be a hindrance, which is true, but everyone knows what the more important reason is. The Mahri in general tend to be very stand-offish, and though they do receive support from their friends, and are able to heal, they're never quite the same as they were as Matoran

- Lhikan's Hau is returned to Jaller, who wears it from time to time, but tends to default to his Arthron. Partly because the Hau is a Noble mask and thus weaker and less reliable, partly because his Arthron is part of what allows him to breathe underwater, and partly because the Hau reminds Jaller of a person he's not sure he is anymore. Besides, he's used to the Arthron at this point. He's grown quite skilled at using it to mentally map battlefields on the fly, keeping track of his team and their enemies wherever they are. The Arthron lets him pick up on ambush attacks the Hau wouldn't protect him from, allowing him to call it from his Suva to shield against the attack now that he knows it's coming, before switching back again.

- Kongu is in a similar situation, in that he'd gladly swap out his Zatth, but chooses to keep it for the advantage amphibiousness affords him. He likes to joke that he actually wears a Mask of Water-Breathing, given how little he uses the summoning power, which he only brings out as a last resort. It's possible he could learn to control it with more practice, but he isn't keen on risking summoning some monstrosity while trying to learn.

- Reclaiming the stolen Vahi is a top priority for Vakama, and with the Shadowed One currently in the process of trying to re-established his shattered empire, his odds against potentially the most dangerous Turaga in existence standing on his doorstep with an army of Toa, Glatorian, and battle-hardened Matoran behind him, including one Toa who is essentially a demi-Makuta, and another one whose last interaction with TSO ended with him disintegrating Fortress Odina with a thought, are not favourable. But both TSO and Vakama know that full-fledged conflict would be catastrophic for both sides, so they strike a deal. The Vahi is returned, but the Dark Hunters are otherwise left alone to rebuild. Voporak, dissatisfied with the deal, vanishes shortly thereafter, likely intending to reclaim the Vahi for himself at some point.

- On the topic of the Dark Hunters, various unhappy members took advantage of the chaos of the exodus to escape from the ranks of the hunters. Among those who left are Mimic, who is reunited with his friend and vows revenge against TSO, Phantom, who is welcomed into the ranks of the Order of Mata Nui, where he can put his talents to more moral uses, and Shadow Stealer, who resurfaced during Teridax's reign to aid in the fight against him, but disappeared again shortly afterward, turning down Helryx and Axonn's offers to join the Order and preferring to carve out his own path.

- Kopaka and Pohatu manage to escape the Red Star, along with a handful of survivors who were not stripped of their souls by the revival process, including Mavrah, but not including Lhikan. They were able to successfully disable the Kestora and the zombies, and rigged the Red Star to either explode or crash after their escape, but neither happened. Use of the Akaku Nuva confirms that the Kestora were not somehow reactivated, and there appears to be no activity aboard the star, but for some unknown reason, it is still flying, doing...something.

- The GSR was disassembled over time, its pieces being used to construct New Atero, as well as various new villages across Spherus Magna. Several artifacts were recovered during this process, such as the Ancient Carving Tool given to Takua by Onewa, the Crystals discovered by Hahli, and the Great Telescope, which was installed on a cliff outside of New Vulcanus, which now overlooks Aqua Magna.

- The Bohrok and Bahrag are left purposeless and confused after the destruction of the GSR, unsure of their role now that their reason for being no longer exists. Hesitantly, the Toa Nuva approach them and suggest they assist the Matoran and Agori with the construction of their new homes, which they take to with nothing short of utter glee. The Matoran of Metru Nui are still somewhat unnerved by them, especially the Le-Matoran, but the Agori find the swarms oddly cute.

- Eventually, Tahu and Brutaka, the two neo-Makuta, or demi-Makuta, or what have you, will meet Miserix and Melding Teridax, the last true Makuta in the prime universe. It will be an...interesting exchange. I wouldn't anticipate too much violence, since all four of them would be exceptionally cautious at this point, but it would be very tense.

- With Mata Nui asleep once more, the Ignika's consciousness returns to the forefront. I don't know if it would become Toa Ignika again, but it would certainly be more talkative than it once was, and would favour using its own powers to defend itself over relying on guardians. Umbra is still around though. Not even Ignika itself can convince him to stop guarding it.

I probably have more, but these are what come to mind right now

Paper Rings

Howzer x Genderneutral!Reader 

Summary: Will you marry Howzer even though he can’t offer you the shiny things you’re used to? (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same title) 

Warnings: Like one mention of war and allusion of poverty, otherwise just tooth rotting fluff 

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What was he thinking? Your parents were a Duchess and Duke on your home planet, they were friends with the Syndullas, you grew up in a mansion and here Howzer was, wanting to marry you. Not only did he not have much property, most people considered him property, He couldn’t offer you what you were used to, what you deserved. But no matter how often he told himself that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him, he just had to. He couldn’t take the thought of dying without ever having told you just how much you mean to him, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life, however long, with you.  But today, he finally decided, was the day. The war was over, for the first time since Howzer could remember there was something resembling peace, and you’d be arriving later that day.  Just a few days ago you had commed him, telling him that you had asked your parents to let you finish your university education on Ryloth and they agreed. So you will spend the next two years right there next to him, And afterwards you could look for a job on Ryloth, or maybe, now that the war was over, Howzer could find a way to escape the army and the two of you could settle on your home planet or any corner of the galaxy you wanted. Provided you said yes.  Howzer was on duty most of the day, which is why he couldn’t greet you the second you set foot on Ryloth. But as soon as his shift ended he hurried to the Syndullas’ house, in the garden of which the two of you had been secretly meeting for the past two years.  Or maybe not so secretly, he thought as he saw Hera waving at him from the window of her bedroom.  “Great”, Howzer muttered. He liked Hera, loved her like a little sister even, but he really didn’t want anyone watching this proposal. No one should know, in case you said no, an answer for which Howzer had to be prepared for. That’s the reason he had decided against asking for Eleni’s help in choosing a ring. Instead he had gone with a small silver band, engraved with the initials for both your and his first names. It was classic and simple.  And cheap, the nagging voice in his head insisted. Of course there had been many more beautiful rings, but the truth was that he couldn’t afford any of them, even the engraving had almost blown his budget.  He finally reached the bush behind which he knew you were hiding. The second he stepped around it and into your eyesight you had your arms wrapped around Howzer.  “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you”, you greeted him.  Howzer hugged you back for a few seconds before letting go to press a gentle kiss to your lips.  “I missed you more”, he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours.  You shook your head, a smile on your lips.  “That’s impossible.”  With a matching smile, though maybe just the slightest bit more nervous, Howzer grabbed your hand and lead you over to a thick log on the ground.  As soon as the two of you sat down you rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable, due to his armour, but being uncomfortable with Howzer was million times better than being comfortable alone.  Howzer tried his best not to look you in the eyes, which was a lot easier with your current position, because he knew the second you really looked at him you’d be able to tell that he was nervous about something. And he wanted to stall for just a few more moments, just in case the question he was about to ask would ruin everything.  “So”, he started. “How was your day?”  He didn’t need to ask twice. You began telling him all about the beautiful room the Syndullas had set you up in until you could find an apartment of your own. The university campus you had seen for the first time today and the classes you would take this semester.  “I can’t believe I’m finally going back to university after I had to leave when this stupid war started. Although, without this stupid war we never would have met, so I suppose that’s one positive thing about this whole kriffing mess.”  It’s now or never, Howzer thought.  “Speaking of us...”, he said. He nudged your head with his shoulder to make you lift it before taking both your your hands into his and looking you deep in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to say this. I’ve tried to practice, but everything sounded wrong, so I suppose I’ll just wing it.”  A horrified expression made its way to your face and if Howzer’s hands hadn’t been sweating so much he would have noticed moisture gathering in your own palms.  “Howzer, my darling, are you breaking up with me?”, you asked, voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had seemed so happy to have you on Ryloth with him, he had told you he loved you, and now this?  Before you could do or say anything else Howzer began shaking his head frantically.  “No! Stars, no! Cyare, just listen to me.”  You nodded, although still a bit shaky.  “I’m so happy to have you here with me for the next two years, but that made me realize, or rather it’s one of the things that made me realize, that I want to have you right next to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know how long my life will be, even now that the war is over, I don’t know what the empire will do with us clones, but if you’ll let me, I will do everything in my power to never leave your side. I know I can’t offer you much, I don’t have a mansion like the one you grew up in, or even a house to call me own, I can’t give you jewelry or fine clothes or the best food, but everything I have, everything I am, I can give to you. I offer you my heart and my soul and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy for as long as you want me to.”  After his last words he let go of one of your hands and knelt down in front of you on the ground. In the same swift motion he pulled a simple black box out of his holster where his blaster should be.  “(Y/N), cyar’ika, mesh’la, my beloved, my beautiful, my darling, my sun and stars, will you marry me?”  The tears that had been in your eyes earlier were now floating. Never had anyone said something like that to you, offered you so much and asked a question you never knew you wanted to hear.  But Howzer, in his worried state, misinterpreted your tears. He sat the box down on the ground and put a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want to marry a man who cannot offer you the riches you’re used to.”  Tears were now making their way down his cheeks as well. You shook your head, slowly at first, then violently. How could he think that that’s why you’re crying?  “Howzer, I love you. I love you whether you’re the richest man in the galaxy or the poorest, it doesn’t matter. I may like shiny things, but I’d marry you no matter what, even if you proposed with a paper ring.”  Within seconds his expression went from shock to relief to pure happiness and love. He lifted the box from the ground again and opened it, showing you the ring inside.  “It may not be paper, but I doubt this is worth much more.”  Laughter bubbled past your lips. Without thinking you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Howzer’s forehead, another to his cheeks, his eyelids and his nose, before your lips finally connected in a loving kiss.  “I still need an answer, mesh’la”, Howzer mumbled against your lips after you had separated to catch your breath.  You wouldn’t have thought it possible to smile even wider, but somehow you did.  “Yes. My answer is yes, Howzer. I will marry you.”  With a smile matching yours, and after another quick kiss, he gently slipped the ring on your finger.  And even though it was probably the cheapest thing you owned, it was also the most valuable and you loved it almost as much as the man who had given it to you. 

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I know my usual day to post is Friday, but I was listening to Paper Rings and thinking of the latest Bad Batch episode and this fic just came to me and I couldn’t wait to write and share it. 

difficult | myg

pairing: min yoongi x oc

genre: fluff, mini angst, super cute, mutual pining

words: 3, 812

summary: you're difficult and yoongi just wants you

“I can’t believe it,” Jimin whistles. Taehyung mirrors his sentiment but with a look of disbelief.

“Me neither. But here we are.” Taehyung states matter-of-factly.

You were silent, not because you had nothing to say—but because you couldn’t believe it either. How did you allow yourself to fall into this trap? A trap you’ve spent your entire life training to avoid. And you would consider yourself someone that was dedicated to their craft and you truly were. But you were still susceptible to guilty pleasures and you just found your match.

“Why is no one stopping me? Why isn’t anyone telling me to get a grip of myself?” You cry.

Jimin looks at you sympathetically even if he knows that you hated being pitied. Taehyung at least avoids your gaze but the tell-tale signs of a frown appear on his face when you see the furrow of his brows.

“You know … you’re allowed to feel this way, right?” Jimin says carefully and you were more annoyed with the fact that he was walking on eggshells with you when you’ve long passed that stage of prudent navigation around each other. And you knew exactly why he sounded the way he did.

“I’m not. I’m supposed to be an impenetrable fortress that cannot be shaken by anything let alone anyone. I am an unyielding, resolute woman that refuses to be tied down by society’s narratives.” You say all at once.

Jimin and Taehyung blink at you. They expected this—but it still surprised them that you vocalised their thoughts.

Jimin clears his throat.

“Let me rephrase that,” He says sternly, “You’re allowed to feel, period.”

You shake your head because you’ve fallen too far—too hard. And you needed to get a grip of yourself because you didn’t work hard perfecting the flawless expression of bitchiness and temptation to be taken seriously amongst a Board of Directors filled with men. People like you couldn’t afford to feel.

Especially when the world never feels for you. For women.

“Do you hear yourself Jimin?” You exasperate as you throw your hands in the air in frustration.

“____—” Taehyung attempts to reason with you, but as always, you never let him get a word in. He knows you don’t mean any malice because you’ve built your walls so high that you think everyone is out to get you—but he just cares about you. He wishes you’d let him.

“No. You don’t understand guys. People like me? We—I—can’t afford to slack off. Not now and not anytime soon. I hear you guys and I wish I could understand where you’re coming from but frankly, I won’t ever be able to. You have the liberty of picking your battles because this world is yours. I had to fight my battles on my own to claim this world as my own and I’m nowhere near deserving of that role yet. I can’t feel.”

Their eyes soften at you and you avoid their gazes. You didn’t want their pity, and you didn’t want to sit in a tight office with their stares so heavy on your own.

“You deserve to be happy,” Taehyung says sadly.

You don’t respond, but you hear the chairs in front of your desk move against the hardwood floor. Then, you hear the opening and closing of your doors and you’re finally alone. Like how you do best.

You don’t allow another thought as insignificant as the one that threatens to overtake you to pass through your mind as you quickly tend to your pending projects.

The name of a certain man lingers very vaguely, though.

It annoys yet terrifies you how much you needed to consciously play your cards just right when you step into another board meeting. You thrived when you spoke at the podium, and no man—even the most bigoted—could deny that you were a born leader. But that didn’t mean that they liked that fact. In fact, most of them despised the idea that a woman as young as you was even allowed in the same room as they were. You wished you could yell at them, cry and shout until they understood that you were deserving.

You couldn’t, for very obvious reasons. But until you could—you needed to be smart.

“Mr Lee, with all due respect—liquifying the compartment company will not bring us the projected profit that you’ve pitched in the previous meeting.”

You’re level-headed and cool when you attempt to reason with the older and very stubborn man. He was old, and stubborn, which was never good news for you.

Mr Lee, the Chairman’s younger brother, simply scoffs at you, and you try your best not to let your eye twitch.

“What? Do you have a bachelor’s degree in business?” He sneers.

You blink.

“I have a double Masters in Business Administration and Finance.”

Mr Lee stiffens, and you briefly see Seokjin, the fellow nephew of Mr Kim, holding back his snorts at your declaration.

“I am qualified to be making this statement, and if you don’t believe in just words—which you really shouldn’t—here are the documents and projections from my end.” You distribute the analysis you took upon yourself to complete over the weekend and worked overtime to finish it as you handed it around the table.

Mr Kim, the Chairman, who was a far better man than everyone else in the Board of Directors, offers you an impressed smile as he flips through your booklet while you stand straight with your shoulders rolled back. A stance you often took to show that you knew your shit.

“This is very … meticulous. Great work as always, ___.” Mr Kim compliments you.

You don’t let it show on your face but you’re pleased with the way Mr Lee grumbles under his breath like a petulant child.

“Very well. We’ll keep the compartment company as it is,” Mr Kim declares and everyone else in the room shuffles to collect their belongings as the meeting comes to an end, “Meeting adjourned.”

+

“You’re absolutely badass,” Jin whistles at you as you walk side-by-side, your folders snug against your chest.

You hide your smile but acknowledge it regardless.

“And you were … there. As usual.”

He snorts and you know he gets where you’re coming from. Jin was simply present at the meeting but he wasn’t actually present. His heart had no place in the business world but instead in a world filled with fine dining and diverse cuisines as he worked up a storm in the kitchen. But as every father—who is the Chairman of a country’s largest exporter—he had pushed that dream onto Jin from a young age.

But Jin was Jin, and you knew Mr Kim simply kept him here for the sake of it; fully aware of his son’s aspirations and determination of becoming a chef.

“You should just take my position. You’re so good at business talk—I didn’t understand half the shit you were saying the entire time.” He says.

You shrug.

“I mean, that’s the goal. But let’s just see for now,” You hum as you reach your office, and you still when you see the person waiting for you inside.

Jin takes a peek over your shoulder and spots the same person who has you looking so tense. He whistles at you as he stuffs his right hand in his pocket while offering you a consoling pat on your shoulder with his left before he stalks off.

“Good luck!” He calls out, and you internally groan at the oncoming interaction.

You brace yourself and put on a brave face as you step into your office, doors clicking, signalling your guest to turn around at the insinuation of your presence.

“Mr Min, what can I help you with?” You don’t look at him when you place your belongings on your table and you nearly miss his scoff with the way you attempt to busy yourself with any mindless activity that you can find on your desk.

“Mr Min? Not Yoongi anymore?”

You ignore his bitter tone and look at him with a reserved stare, raising an eyebrow as if to question his statement.

“Are we not co-workers?” You reply coolly and he scoffs much louder for you to hear.

“Co-workers … yeah,” He shrugs, leaning forward, “Do you usually kiss your co-workers?”

You are still at the sudden declaration and nearly drop the pen that was in your grip. He’s suddenly inches closer to you despite the relative distance of your desk between the both of you. You try to ignore the heat of his body, but it’s entirely too suffocating for you to pretend like he isn’t there.

“Don’t give me that nonsense,” You wave him off and you steady your voice because you weren’t ready for him to see you break. You allowed yourself too much space to be vulnerable and you needed to stop.

He sits back into the chair and folds his arms across his chest with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, this is not what we’re going to do.” He says, suddenly much firmer than he was a moment ago.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, clearly confused.

“None of this detached, emotionless attitude with me. I see through this facade and it’s not cute. You’re going to speak to me like an adult and address the very obvious feelings you have for me, and likewise. You’re not allowed to deflect like you always do because I expect you to be honest with me because you’re clearly not being honest to yourself.”

You blink up at him and your heart starts beating more rapidly within your chest as it betrays your stoic appearance.

Maybe that was why you fell for Yoongi in the first place. He didn’t tolerate you. Specifically, the shit that you pull on him. You were well aware you were a stubborn, hard-headed bitch that could be emotionally reserved 99% of the time when you interacted with others. And sometimes your bitchiness was uncalled for, but most people were too terrified to say anything about it to your face.

Yoongi?

He had no problems letting you know what he expected from you and how he thought of you from the beginning. It should’ve irked you. Based on your strict line of principles that you upheld—a man projecting his own thoughts of you that he had in his head, directly to you, should’ve been dehumanising, disrespectful even. But you never got that from Yoongi. He was brutally honest. And you appreciate honesty.

But sometimes it made you squirm.

“I … sorry, what? Are you insane? I don’t have feelings for you.” You narrow your eyes at him and hope you sound convincing enough.

But you knew Yoongi well enough to know that he saw through your blatant lie.

“I said: don’t deflect. You’re deflecting.” He scolds.

“You’re being unnecessarily distasteful right now,” You roll your eyes.

“Am I? Or am I just telling you the truth that you’ve been trying to deny for the past week that you’ve been cowardly avoiding me?” He’s calm when he makes the accusation. And it wasn’t even an accusation because it was the plain truth.

You burn, both in anger and in humiliation.

“What do you know about me Yoongi? Aren’t I just the company’s hot-headed bitch?” You snap, remembering the first words you heard from Yoongi.

“You are a hot-headed bitch, and I know you’re scared of admitting that you have feelings for me because you think feeling makes you weak.”

You ignore the fact that he admitted that you were a bitch, but Yoongi wasn’t the type to lie, nor was he the type to kiss ass. And you hated that he was still brutally honest, even when speaking about a topic so … intimate.

“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting this information from but you need to leave.” You stand up to walk towards the door so you could open it for him but he grabs your wrist before you make it there.

He turns you around to look at him. Properly look at him, that is. You’ve been avoiding direct eye contact with him because as good of a front you’ve worked on to put in front of him, you were human. And as a human, you were bound to have a weakness.

“You don’t get to walk away from me—this conversation—because you hate confrontation,” He frowns at you and you turn away to avoid his heavy gaze.

“Yoongi, can we not do this?” You sigh.

He chuckles dryly, using his right hand to nudge your face to look at him. It should’ve been demeaning, but you felt nothing like you were disrespected. You hated to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot more than you’d admit to anyone.

“No. We’re doing this. You’re going to address your feelings for me and actually work for what you want—and that’s clearly this,” He gestures between the two of you and you glare up at him.

“I told you! I don’t have any feelings for you.” You snarl at him, teeth bared like an animal but he just laughs at you like you were pathetic. You hated how small you felt in his presence but yet you were still whole.

“You don’t kiss a person you don’t have feelings for—you don’t hold someone you don’t have feelings for like they’re your safe space. You don’t have feelings for me? That’s funny because you did all of those things and you’ve never once complained when I reciprocated.”

You fumble with your words as the tip of your ears burn a bright red, which Yoongi easily catches.

“You don’t turn into a tomato if I was lying to you. You’re not like that, right? You’re self-assured. Ms-I’m-An-Impenetrable-Fortress,” He mocks.

“S-Stop acting as if you know me, Yoongi. You don’t and you never will.” You struggle against his grip on your wrist but he simply tugs you closer until your faces are inches apart.

“I don’t?” He scoffs, “Then tell me, why do I know that you confide Jimin and Taehyung for advice but never take it anyway because you’re too damn stubborn?”

You were about to retort but he’s quicker with his response.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you walk with your head held high into meetings but exit with your tail tucked between your legs because you’re afraid of sounding too dumb, too incompetent?”

You freeze.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you pull away from people not because you’re repulsed by them but because you’re afraid of forming actual bonds in the fear of being abandoned?”

You internally curse when you fear your eyes burning, and the lump in your throat becoming too much to bear.

“Then tell me, ___, why do I know you feel the same way about me but you’re too scared of looking dependent to do anything about it?” He whispers the last part when he pulls you tight against his chest.

You don’t fight him anymore, and you relax into the firm expanse of his chest and it terrifies you that it feels so much like home. A warm space you find comfort in.

You don’t even realise the first tear escapes your eyes until you feel Yoongi’s dress shirt turn slightly damp under the skin of your cheek. You’re mortified when you realise you’re crying and you attempt to pull away but his hands find their way around your waist to hold you tight.

“Don’t,” He whispers, “Don’t pull away from me.”

“Yoongi … I-I can’t,” You stutter, voice shaky.

He wipes a thumb on your cheek to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that you don’t bother hiding from him anymore.

“I worked my ass off to be taken seriously here and—and … if I get a boyfriend they’re going to think that I’m reliant, I’m weak, dependent on a man.” You ramble, but he just listens to your nonsensical statement as he rubs soothing circles on your head.

“I want you to rely on me, to depend on me. Stop thinking that you need to fight your battles alone. I’m here—I’ll be here. I’ve always been here but you need to let me be there for you.” He says softly.

You peer up at him with swollen eyes and he thinks you look beautiful. You always were beautiful. When you were commanding a meeting; when you were focused when you were angry; when you were laughing, and when you were sad. He was in for all of it.

“But ... the Board of Directors—”

He shushes you with a light kiss to the corner of your lip and you feel your stale heart flutter.

“I’m not here to be your saviour. I’m here to be your equal. I want to help you as much as you’ll help me. And believe me when I say you’ve helped me. The Board of Directors? Relationship or no relationship, they’ll be the same bigots that unfortunately dictate the policies in this company. The only person that has the ability to change anything in this situation is you ___.”

You feel your resolve breaking but you should’ve known that you’ve never had any resolve when it came to Yoongi. You were always weak around him. And maybe you needed to start accepting the fact that you were allowed to feel weak, to feel dependent on someone.

“What if you leave me.” You whine.

He snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows.

“Then I leave. But we don’t know what’s going to happen if we don’t try,” He says and you realise how close he’s gotten to you to the point you feel his breath on your lips.

“That’s not comforting to hear the slightest,” You complain.

“And nothing about a relationship is easy. But I’m willing to be with you. I’ve always been ready—it’s you that needs to make the decision, ___.”

You finally lock eyes with him and you see nothing but sincerity. Yoongi could be crass, and often mistaken as a dick. But he was just honourable. He wouldn’t lie to anyone or sugarcoat the difficult truth. In fact, he never made you feel inferior to him even when he was straightforward. He never treated you differently because you were terrifying—but he treated you how he would with anyone else. And that was comforting. While everyone else walked on eggshells with you, he was fearless with his declarations.

Even now.

“I like you. I have no qualms in admitting it. And I’ll say it over and over again until you believe me,”

You don’t reply but kiss him. And there are no explosive fireworks, and time still flows—but it feels familiar. It feels like a territory that you’ve known all along, a little rough around the edges with the time spent away, but a place you can allude to comfort.

He responds by licking into the seam of your mouth as you allow his tongue to lick behind your teeth, a small whine caught in the back of your throat as you card your fingers through his hair. The hands-on your waist presses you tighter, flush against his body.

He pulls away first, resting his forehead on your own.

“I need to hear you say it. None of this tip-toeing anymore.”

You offer him a small smile.

“I-I …”

He watches you stutter with a hooded gaze but nothing about his stare makes you feel pressured. It was more comforting than anything, and the way he still held onto you like you mattered—but weren’t fragile—allowed you some semblance of peace in retaining your identity. This arbitrary idea of what you thought you were and how people perceived you. It was difficult to unlearn an idea that felt very personal to you after years of mastering its art.

You’re still unsure of how to react but you’re so sure of how you feel.

“I like you. I-I want to try.” You wail.

He’s alarmed by the sudden change in tone from your end and at the way you tug at the collars of his shirt. Not aggressively, but a little desperate. Not in the way that’d make him scrunch his nose in distaste but in a way that told him that this was you being vulnerable. Being open.

He wipes at your cheeks with dried tears and looks at you so honestly that it scares you. But in a way, you were fearless because you were terrified of everything. Mostly of disappointing others who held you to such a high standard, but it was a valid fear regardless.

“I’m not some fragile woman that you need to fix and I want you to understand that,” You pull yourself together and tell him sternly. He listens because Yoongi has never been presumptuous.

“I’m my own person and I won’t change the way I act to be with you—and if you’re looking for a cute … dainty, soft girlfriend then…” You whisper, “That’s not me. I’m tough. I’m a bitch and I’m stubborn. Our arguments are going to suck because I have a response for literally everything so—!”

He shushes your rambling with a finger to your lips and a raised eyebrow. You pout at him under his finger and he finds you adorable. He decides to not say anything to preserve his head—but soon. He’ll tell you soon.

“Are you done?”

You huff under his finger but he looks at you fondly.

“I’m not one for normality. I don’t care about what you think I’m into because I know that I’m into you. I’m in this, ___. Stop thinking that I deserve some idealistic image of a woman that you have in your head. I want you, and I thought me coming here to speak to you about your feelings was a clear testament to that.”

You try to hide your blush but you fail.

“And stop being so conscious of how you act around me. Be tough. Be independent. But don’t be afraid to be cute and vulnerable too, okay? I like you in all ways that you decide to present yourself in. Just … trust me. Trust this.”

“Okay.” You nod.

He grins at you.

“Does that mean I can hold your hand on the way to work?” He teases.

You avoid his eyes and look to the side, but the slight curve of your lip gives your answer to that question away.

“I guess …” You mutter.

He hugs you closer and squeezes you until your feet leave the ground. He tackles you with kisses all over your face and you can’t help but giggle. You feel happy. You feel secure.

“Cutie.”

You deliver a smack to his chest but he just laughs.

I am married to the idea that Orsino is around the same age that Malcolm Hawke would’ve been if he had lived. Or at the very least, within the same age range. We know Orsino is the youngest First Enchanter to hold the position in Kirkwall, so it’s entirely possible.

I can’t stop thinking about how Malcolm and Orsino had a very similar approach about underperforming in public so they were left alone, and while I don’t doubt it’s an approach taken by many mages in Circles, you’re going to let me have it as it makes sense that Orsino, as an elf, was more or less allowed to get away with it. The Chantry isn’t kind to elves, but the chantry also thinks elves are inferior, so if Orsino appeared as more average it didn’t matter as much. Not to mention I think Orsino was generally more reserved and less boisterous than Malcolm ever was.

You would never heard Orsino’s laugh resonating in the halls because of something Ser Carver (or another tolerable Templar, if such thing is possible) said, or him swearing during silent study time in his native accent because he dropped him. That was all Malcolm. Orsino couldn’t have said they were friends, but they shared a room in the Gallows, maybe, and when you’re united by such an experience you cannot help but to feel some camaraderie in all of it. 

Don’t get me wrong, perhaps the basis and the spark of the Orsino we knew existed before all these things happened. He was a City Elf after all, and I believe the bones remember. Yet Malcolm left first. All that remained of him was a note explaining to Orsino, the only room-mate he had that he trusted on not ratting him out, that he would not have his life used against him. Along with asking him to bury this note immediately after reading it, because he would’ve hated to get him in trouble, he made a joke at his own stake, saying that if he took all the laugh from the Gallows with him then Orsino would have to find another reason to make their fellow mages smile on his own.

Orsino has never been a class clown, nor he understands Malcolm very much in that moment, but he feels something decidedly. He doesn’t discard that Malcolm could afford this because he’s human, not an elf, but if the commotion and the rumours coming from town are anything to go by (and Ser Carver’s constant look of dread), perhaps it wasn’t so easy as Orsino bitterly thinks it was.

Yet, the First-Enchanter-To-Be has no place for bitterness or any emotion whatsoever, because the Templars feed on that, so he takes a deep breath and moves on. He knows nothing, Malcolm never said anything, and he has, absolutely, never had a conversation with him (where no else could hear them) about whether they would escape the Gallows if they could.

Then Maud died, and Orsino felt like he no longer could afford his practised neutrality, his careful measure and ever present composure. 

(Ser Carver was made an example of too, but a Templar is a Templar and all Templar, even the tolerable ones, are bastards. Some Templars did not like that he was made an example of, or the Knight-Commander’s actions, but Orsino saw none of them making a stand against Meredith. Not that Ser Carver ever said anything, but he is starting to believe actions are louder than words.

Only speaking is an action too.)

Between Maud’s “this is no life” and Malcolm’s “I will not have my life used against me”, Orsino begins confronting things he already knew: Elven Mages have it worse than Humans, but they all have it bad. He isn’t thinking about this when he pushes back, however; there is no agenda behind his actions, only what is right to him in that given moment. And what is right is pushing back and not letting his fellow mages fall into the endless pit of despair that is the Gallows and the Kirkwall Templars.

If they want to label him a trouble maker, they’re allowed to. He’s a mage, he’s an elf, they won’t be the last, let alone they have been the first.

Maybe, one day, he’ll get to be none other than Bethany Hawke’s First Enchanter. Maybe there will come a day when he will call her to his office, and say that while he will not play favourites, so she has to earn her ranks like everyone else, as long as he is the First Enchanter she will not be alone. It is  a shame that Malcolm's daughter has to return like this, because he is sure her father did not do what he did so Bethany ended in the Gallows, out of all places.

Bethany will not turn into another Maud, or so many others who died by their own hand if he has any say in it.

(And when he meets Rowan Hawke, future Champion of Kirkwall, he will confirm what he already thought from the rumours he has heard: that she is the spitting image of her father.

Maybe not all is lost in death.)