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#she also had quotes about breaking men's hearts and souls
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I will never forget this picture with a quote that said "The devil is a woman". These chicks expose themselves lmao
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woodsfae · 2 years
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Babylon 5 s02E08 Soul Mates
s02 Table of Contents • previous episode
oh god. All three of Londo Mollari's wives. Minus two. Sounds very slightly more manageable. To watch.
What kind of mind trick was that? Stoner, lol. Maybe it’s the scent of dank weed floating off him.
No. I just made a very weird noise. Talia's ex husband Matt Stoner has arrived on B5. This is going to be an episode of all time. I can just tell.
Timov: "I won't bite, Vir." Vir: “With all due respect, madam, that's not what I heard." Timov: “All right....that one time." Vir: “It was...it was twice..."
Oh, Centauri. why. Them Being Like That is, so far, kinda funny, kinda repelling. While being unfairly interesting, actually. I'm getting to be fond of complaining about them. And I also realized today that part of what repels me about them is that I feel unwillingly voyeuristic whenever they get heterosexually dysfunctional.
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^ actually me whenever the Centauri whip out a tentacle or overshare about their painfully hetero sex lives
Another wife has arrived! I quite like these two women interacting.
John Sheridan, my heart just grew three sizes. That's so sweet! Friends and allies!
ashfdsjhfd. OK. I have to pause and quote this Ivanova and Delenn interaction because I just put my hands over my face and scream-laughed for a minute over Delenn's hair.
Delenn, all but vibrating in rage: "Commander. I want you to understand. I acquired human characteristics to bring your people and mine closer together. To symbolize our mutuality! It is supposed to be a dignified, inspiring transition for both humans and Minbari. So will you, please, explain to me, why this - this - this *rips at hair*" Ivanova: "Hair." Delenn *rips at a trapped hairbrush* "...refuses to cooperate?!"
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This is also everything I ever wanted. And also why my hair is never allowed to grow longer than my chin before I whack it off.
Delenn: "Please. I trust you."
my heart
Oh, Talia. My heart again, for totally different reasons. PsiCorps are shits.
And G'Kar!! I've missed G'Kar. His armor is getting prettier and prettier I swear.
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So shimmery and shiny!
I could watch Daggair and Timov all day.
Daggair: "Your problem, Timov, is that you've never known your place." Timov: "My place? You once threatened to break a vase over his head." Daggair, laughing: "Well, that...that, was the impetuousness of youth." Timov: "That was last month."
Timov definitely has Londo's number. I agree with her, Daggair is definitely up to something.
Timov: "The secret of our marriage's success, Londo, is our lack of communication. You have jeopardized that success, and I would know why."
This is absolutely, hands down, the funniest, most engaging, and delightful Centauri episode so far. I love Timov so much. She can come back whenever she likes.
Happy 30th Ascension Day, Londo.
Wow, a two-out-of-three divorce is a great 30th Ascension Day gift from the emperor. Well, any one wish within his power is a great gift, but it totally tracks that Londo would use it to get out of as many arranged marriages as possible (while insisting that it's a valid way of life and other people should just shut up and take the marriages).
I like the staggered introduction of Mollari wives.
I bet the props department had a ton of fun coming up with alien artifacts.
Lennier is back!!! He's so sweet. Checking to make sure the hair curlers aren't painful. I must disagree with Delenn: they may not be physically painful, but they're a psychological torment.
This tension between Garibaldi and Matt Stoner is delightful. He's clearly a shit, but he and Garibaldi have banger chemistry.
Londo: "Be careful. I should have warned you. On Earth, you have these creatures - insects attracted to flames?" Sheridan: "Uh, yes. Moths. They're drawn to flames and bright lights, and get burned." Londo: "Mariel is drawn to men of power in that same way. But trust me - she burns them."
I like her.
My most insistent inclination right now is that Londo will stay married to Timov. But I could also see him staying with Mariel just because she's the youngest, or he admires her zest for burning powerful men. Or Daggair, since she's flattering his ego on this trip. It'll be interesting to see how this goes! Perhaps this divorce is a fake-out and he'll end up using his favor for something completely unrelated.
Fuck U Matt. Leave her alone.
This is definitely a case of the cure being worse than the sickness. Losing telepathy after a lifetime of having it sounds traumatic. Losing it to get out of PsiCorps grip if there's no other option - potentially worth it, depending on the individual. Having your creepy ex arrange for it, thus giving his obsessed and gross self something to hold over you? Nooo. No thank you.
Talia, to Garibaldi: "Please, keep out of this. It's not your concern." Garibaldi: "I...I feel it is." Talia: "Feel differently."
TELL HIM SIS. Fuck yes. Talia telling men to fuck off instead of appeasing them and de-escalating is a glorious thing to behold.
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Londo: "You haven't changed." Timov: "You have. You've devolved."
Your honor, I love her.
:( I'm sorry you're apologizing to Gaibaldi, Talia.
And that you're considering leaving with Matt!
Understandable feelings, F- risk assessment.
Londo and G'Kar's fighting is as delightful as ever! Londo could do so much with his brainpower if he devoted it to anything worthwhile, and this is obvious because he's so good at fucking with G'Kar.
Lennier is so fucking cute. Londo is going to cheat so hard with those marked cards.
Murder via ancient, Centauri artifact is a pretty interesting way to take someone out.
Obviously Matt Stoner sucks, but I continue to love him and Garibaldi interacting.
Awwww, Timov.
"Whatever you think of me, doctor, I have some principles that even twenty years with Londo can't erase."
oh my god. hahahahaha I love her.
Security Officer: "There's just something about [Matt] that makes you wanna like him."
Hmmmm. Residual PsiPowers?
Franklin: "Ambassador Mollari, do you mind if make one personal observation? Londo: "No, not at all." Franklin: "Stick it." Londo: "How odd. I didn't even know we were married."
That's a pretty good one. I tolerate the Centauri Boomer Humor a lot better when it's less hetero.
Matt definitely has some latent PsiPowers. Shake it off, Talia! Kick him in the nads!
Well, setting him up to being hit by Garibaldi is OK too, I guess.
I did wonder if Mariel was responsible for the poisoning. Love her. And G'Kar! He continues to be a total delight and I love seeing him interact with new people.
Matt: "Look into my mind. No shields. No tricks." Talia: "No chance."
Good plan. A+ risk assessment. That's character growth!
It is slightly laudable that Londo prefers to have honestly over flattery in his stable relationships.
:( oh fuck, poor Delenn. Menstruating is not something you wanna pick up, especially when it comes with cramps. :(
next episode
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mytho-nerd · 7 months
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My fav Crucible quotes because I said I’d post them then promptly forgot also! Some commentary!:
Proctor: Abby, I may think of you softly from time to time. But I will cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again, wipe it out of mind. We never touched, Abby.
The whole reason John proctor is compelling is because he’s done wrong and I feel like this is a key moment in his character. Also (I may be wrong) I think this is the first time we learn about him and Abigail so there’s that.
Parris: I hope you do not mean we go to satan here!
Rebecca: I wish I knew.
I am Rebecca Nurse’s number one fan. I just love her sass especially when she talks to Parris.
Proctor, lost: aye. He is failing for it
Elizabeth, delicately: adultery, John.
Proctor, as though a secret arrow had pained his heart: aye…
I feel like this scene because it perfectly shows both of their characters perfectly AND it shows how Proctor genuinely does regret is actions. Also, it’s just very funny - my friends and I repeated it for like a week after.
Proctor: if she is innocent? Why do you ever wonder if Parris be innocent, or abigail? Is the accuser always holy now? Were they born this morning clean as God’s fingers? I’ll tell you what’s walking Salem - vengeance is walking Salem…I will not give my wife to vengeance!
Specifically the vengeance part is what I like. It feels like a breaking point almost.
Parris: I think not, or you surely know that Cain were an upright man, and yet he did kill Abel.
I LOVE a good biblical reference especially when it’s twisted to make pretty bad people seem right. Also this line is just so good? Parris had no right.
Proctor, his mind wild and breathless: I say — I say — God is dead!
Parris: hear it, hear it!
Proctor, laughs insanely then: a fire, a fire is burning! I hear the boot of Lucifer, I see his filthy face! And it is my face, and yours, danforth! For them that quail to bring men out of ignorance, as I have quailed, and as you quail now when you know in your black hearts that this be fraud — God damns our kind especially, and we will burn, we will burn together!
I ADORE this part!! I love love love Proctor calling out Danforth, I love the way things are phrased, I love seeing proctor hit his limit, all of it I just love it.
Hale: I denounce these proceedings, I quit this court!
This line is actually attached to the second above but I decided to separate it because I love Hale, he’s my favorite character. He has the best Arc throughout the crucible and he’s just so well written. Also, if you have seen the movie it makes me so mad that this line was cut because this is such a pivotal moment for not only Hale but like all of Salem.
Hale: why, it is all simple. I come to do the devils work. I come to counsel Christian’s they should belie themselves. His sarcasm collapses. There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!
Again, Hale is my favorite. I was so glad to see his return, I think this part is honestly what solidified him as my favorite.
Proctor: I cannot mount the gibbet like a saint. It is a fraud. I am not that man… my honesty is broke, Elizabeth; I am no good man. Nothings spoiled by giving them this lie they were rotten king before.
Elizabeth: and yet you’ve not confessed till now. That speak goodness in you.
Proctor: spite only keeps me silent. It’s hard to give a lie to dogs…
Every scene between Elizabeth and proctor hurts me. Also “spite only keeps me silent” is the realest line ever written ever.
Proctor: would you give them such a lie? Say it. Would you ever give them this? She cannot answer. You would not; it tongs of fire were singing you you would not! It is evil. Good, then — If it Is evil, and I do it!
This part (and the next) is why I like Proctor in the book. He is fully aware he has done wrong before and is going to do wrong again and that’s what makes him so captivating.
Proctor, with a cry of his whole soul: because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust in the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!
I did in fact almost cry when I saw this part in the movie. It is just an incredibly powerful moment and it’s so eloquently put together. Argh I love the crucible.
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stray-kaz · 2 years
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Elvis and Austin!Elvis Ask game:
Let’s start off gently shall we? Because this most definitely devolves into thirsty madness later, you’ve been warned…and also, we are all at various stages in the Elvis fandom, some of us have been suckling the gospel of EP from birth, others just had their sexual awakening with the 2022 movie, and then there’s the ones among us with frickin’ doctorates on the man. All are welcome, it keeps us colorful. Feel free to pick and chose which of these you want to answer 
•When and what was your first exposure to Elvis Presley? It would have been singing Hound Dog and Blue Suede Shoes in primary school.
•And what was your first impression? I honestly didn’t have an impression at, say, eleven years old. They were just songs to me.
•Lace shirts or jumpsuits? Lace shirts.
•You can steal one of Elvis/Austin’s outfits, what’s it going to be? The pink suit.
•C’mon, we know you’ve been watching/reading old interviews and random footage of the man, so what’s your favorite random Elvis quote? Goes something like: “If I ever thought what I did was hurting anybody, I’d pack up, go home and I’d never sing another note.”
•Did you find Austin Butler’s lips distracting despite them being in a movie about the King of plush upper lips? (Be honest now) No, but his hips were.
•What’s an aspect of Elvis’ character you wish more people appreciated? His striving to find and follow God.
•You meet Col. Tom Parker for the first time, forewarned with the knowledge of what a scumbag he is, what do you do?:  A. nothing, you’re a coward who doesn’t care about abused golden-hearted men B. you give the Colonel a stern telling off C. you encourage Elvis to leave him and break the contract E. you slap a legal document against that fat suit and declare “Mrs. Claus is bringing you a lawsuit” F. you waste no time with formalities, it’s a letter opener to the juggler for that piece of trash. C, and maybe D, too.
•What was your favorite aspect/scene from the Elvis 2022 movie? When he strides out in stage at the hayride and when he starts to “wiggle”.
•You can choose only one song or piece of media to convince someone to become an Elvis fan, what is it going to be? The 2022 film or the live performance of If I Can Dream in the ‘68 Comeback Special.
•How many children would you give Elvis Presley from your own -or theoretical- womb? (listen to the beast in ya, your feminism won’t serve you here) If I lived at the same time as him (as I am already married and have kids), I’d give him three.
Where are you hanging out with EP, his bedroom with the teddy bears, Club Handy, his private jet or Graceland? The teddy bears are freaky as heck, so Club Handy or Graceland.
•What is the peak Elvis era? warning, this says an awful lot about you… Boo to you lol, I will always say young Elvis era is my favourite, though I have never heard a voice more perfect than in If I Can Dream.
•How long have you been an Austin Butler fan (be honest now, God is watching) Since June 26th, the year of our Lord, two thousand and twenty two.
•What kind of Elvis chick are you? -a 1950’s prospective wife material that he’s already sampled, a 1960’s filmset fling or a Vegas torrid backstage affair? 1950′s prospective wife.
•Is Austin Butler an honorary southerner now? Answer options: A. hell no, California can keep his sweet cheeks. B. hell yes, he’s practically been possessed by the soul of the King of the South. B.
•Pick your poison in the fan-fiction realm: angst, fluff, smut, fluffy smut, angsty fluff, angsty smut?…or is reading about Elvis Presley an acknowledged health hazard? Anything fluff, maybe with a touch of spice.
•Spit or swallow for this man? (And if you don’t understand this question move right along) Neither. Gross.
•Would Gladys approve of you? Take your above answer into consideration. Oh, she would love me. Raised in church and a real daddy’s girl.
•Which of Elvis’ cars is your favorite? The pink or dark purple Caddy.
•What are your odds for besting this man at karate? Zero. Nil. Nada. None. Zip.
•If you could meet Elvis and have enough composure to tell him something, what would it be? I would hug him and tell him that he did lasting things, that people are raised on his music decades after he was gone and he did real good. And I’d probably ask for a kiss lol.
•What’s a hobby or pastime of yours you wish you could share with Elvis/Austin!Elvis? I would read with him.
•What’s the Elvis 2022 quote you’ve been mumbling to yourself ever since you heard it? I get lyrics from Suspicious Minds stuck on a loop, and “shove it up your nose”.
•What are your top 3 go-to Elvis songs? Polk Salad Annie, Little Sister and Return To Sender.
•If you could spare him one tragedy what would it be? Being squeezed and squeezed by the colonel until there was nothing left.
•Is there a modern artist that sorta scratches for you the itch that Elvis’ absence leaves? None really, but James Arthur is pretty dang smooth.
•How did you react at the end of the movie when In the Ghetto started to play A. I got up and fixed a snack because I have no soul, B. I left feeling alarmingly horny, C. I was impressed but didn’t realize how affected I was until days later when it was still with me D. I cried buckets they had to bring in a mop E. I may have appeared emotionless but in fact my soul was leaving my body and I don’t think it’s returned quite yet. Shocking to myself, B. And maybe a little bit C.
•If you’ve got a favorite gif or photo insert it here and bless us all
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This is one of my all time favourite gifs ever, hands down. He’s so gorgeous. Pretty boy.
Thanks for tagging me, Jo! @karamelcoveredolicity​
Ok, now go and tag a couple mutuals
@foreverdolly​ @succsessions​
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lostfracturess · 3 months
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secondly, which is basically the first, MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOWS THEY DON'T DESERVE IT I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY 😭😭😭 i just can't imagine how dreadful must it all be to a y/n since she's not only just a student, but a lot younger and hasn't yet witnessed all the shit that satoru has 😭 she had a panic attack and all i was thinking is just how satoru was with her during all her attacks to calm her down 😞 it was heart wrenching to read honestly, she was in a room full of people and yet so alone (more like vultures than people but okay) and i am glad that suguru helped her ❤️ and THIS WOMAN IN THE BATHROOM HOW SHE COMMANDED OTHER MEN OUT 😭😭😭😭 honestly love her so much! also that scene made me completely sure that she's certainly the strongest one soul and character wise among two of them, i mean she leads and satoru follows (i know satoru would agree with me as the simp he is) and our beautiful blue eyed princess doesn't make her burden easier, kudos for trying to him tho..also when she said "i am always wrong somehow" or something like that when he ran away (in all ways non ironically) and she didn't try to talk to him shattered my heart 😞 as i personally think she does everything right (as if there might be something right in relationships), because she listens to her heart 😞😞😞 i don't see her as kinda a pushover, though she also tries to hide her feelings, please baby don't learn that from our babygirl 🙄🙄🙄 and your quote about love is choosing got me teared up honestly, such a nice wording ❤️ and thirdly, the smut????? it was really really good and honestly for me this is the best smut scene so far 😫😫😫 everything is just on point, and i absolutely adore the way they keep their personalities while fucking if that makes sense 😭😭😭 i mean she's so stubborn and he's so.... satoru as usual... frankly waiting for the moment when HE will beg y/n, because this man is way to confident for his own 🤨🤨🤨 and someone (both of them) hasssss a thing for chocking~~~ very sexy i can say, satoru loves having everything under his control everywhere especially in the bed 🙄😫 ALMOST FORGOT TO SAY I AM SO SO SO IN LOVE WITH THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE HIS PHYSIQUE 😫😫😫😫 want to bite him sorry~
in conclusion, protective! satoru makes me feel a lot of things, my babies deserve better, sukuna is a fucking asshole. thank you for the chapter, looking forward to another one anddd sending you lots of love and inspo!!! sorry for this chaotic blubbering mess once again😞🙏
yn so strong for not crumbling completely with everything going on. could never. but now that you said it… ture!!! all her panic attacks were with satoru and this one was like the first where he wasn’t there omg!!! now it’s even more sad, haven’t thought about it!!!
must include this in the next chapter haha ✍️ 
and yes! she defenetily wears the pants in this relationship!! satoru is so utterly at her mercy omg, it’s so funny like he was always the „strongest“ (*crying*) and always took the lead and all and then she came around and now he’s like a slave to her lol. he is a SIMP, all throughout!! 
also when she said "i am always wrong somehow" or something like that when he ran away (in all ways non ironically) and she didn't try to talk to him shattered my heart 😞
i think that kinda showed how all that mess slowly catches up to her and even the strongest hearts can break with just enough pressure :(( so sad. wanted to show that even she can not withstand everything satoru does.
so glad you enjoyed the talk about love, thought it was a bit cheesy so i'm glad it resonated with you!!
also what??? the best smut so far?? thought it was kinda medium ahhhhh, again so glad you enjoyed!!!
moreover i can explain the chocking !!!! i can explain!!! i mean??? ehh???? it’s hot okay, i have no explanation, it’s literally i guess in every goddamn smut scene i've ever written. AND I WILL NOT STOP!!
you’re conclusion is on point: sukuna is an asshole. period. 
thank you again for your precious time to write this reaction to the chapter, that's really what writing fanficiton makes so special!! sending you all the love and whishing you nothing but the best ♡
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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Million Dollar Man | chapter two
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18+
summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.
Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)
word count: 3.4K
a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est
Chapter Two | Masterlist
She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.
Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.
Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.
She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.
All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.
She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.
But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.
He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”
He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”
She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”
He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.
She doesn’t accept it just yet.
It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.
“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”
He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.
Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”
“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”
Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”
She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”
Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.
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It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.
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“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.
“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”
“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.
She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”
“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.
“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”
“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”
“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”
“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”
“Yes please,” she smiles.
“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”
“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.
They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.
Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.
For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.
He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.
He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.
They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.
“How many gifts is this now?”
“We’re at 5 out of 24.”
She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”
“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.
“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.
The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.
“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”
“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.
“He lets her choose,” he whispers.
“He rescues her,” she corrects him.
“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.
It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”
“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.
“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”
“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.
“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”
She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”
“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”
“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”
She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”
“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”
“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.
“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”
She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”
He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”
“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”
He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.
As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”
He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…
“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.
“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”
With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.
“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”
“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.
“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”
He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”
She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”
He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”
He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.
She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.
“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”
He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”
“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”
Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.
She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.
“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.
“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”
“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.
“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”
“Daddy’s girl.”
He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.
She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.
He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”
“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.
“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”
For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.
“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”
“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.
She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”
“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.
“Only if you let me wash the front too?”
She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.
Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.
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38 Supercorp
"Fuck fuck fuckity fuck," Lena angrily chanted under her breath, hands clenched tight around the steering wheel as she slowed down. The officer behind her had thankfully silenced their sirens at the first sign that Lena was pulling up.
She forced herself to take deep breaths and calm her anger from explosive to just simmering below the surface. She really doesn't need this shit today.
The motorcycle pulled up next to her, if Lena played her cards right she could get out of this without giving up her license. She chanced a glance at her mirror, good thing she decided to wear a low-cut blouse. She's not above using her...assets if it meant getting out of this quicker.
The officer kicks down their stand and swings off. Lena collects herself, checks if her lipstick remains immaculate, she's played this game with enough business men before what's the difference with a police officer?
The difference, it turns out, is that the police officer happens to be a woman.
A gorgeous, blonde woman that made Lena choke on her own saliva, when she took off her helmet only to reveal deliciously perfect bone structure and luscious blonde hair flowed down her shoulders. It was like Lena was watching those pretentious shampoo commercials in real time, the only thing missing was a slow-mo effect.
Said gorgeous, attractive, beautiful--Lena needs more synonyms--knocks lightly on her window and Lena has to rub her three functioning brain cells in order to lower her window.
"Ma'am."
Oh, fuck her eyes are so blue.
"Ma'am."
Will I get more than just a fine if I invite her to my place?
"Ma'am."
Wait- Why drive back when we can do it here in the car? She looks like the car sex type, doesn't she?
"Excuse me, ma'am? Do I have your attention?"
Lena remembers a conversation needs a response from both parties if it wants to exist.
She snaps herself out of it--with the utmost effort, mind you--and clears her throat.
"Hi, officer."
Hi, officer? Hi, officer. What are you? A drunk bachelorette?!?
Lena fights the urge to bang her head on her steering wheel and tries to pay attention to the words coming out of the blonde's lips and not on how she's got the perfect Cupid's bow and what would it taste like pressed to hers?
She catches, "-license,", "-your fine." and at least three more Ma'am's.
Danvers, K.Z. She takes an important mental note.
"Ma'am your license please???"
"Oh. Oh yes. Yes. Right."
God, if she says please and ma'am one more time I'm going to commit a much bigger crime.
Lena fumbles for her purse, almost ripping open the zipper in her haste.
"Here, officer." She thrusts the card out of the window, wishing the blonde's hands would graze hers in the process.
"You can get your license back at the main office on Monday, ma'am. Considering it's the weekend today," she says absentmindedly, scribbling Lena a ticket.
"May I know the reason for your over-speeding ma'am?"
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck uhm uhm-
"Oh, uhm, I didn't want to be late for my daughter's birthday."
WHAT THE FUCk?
"Oh. A birthday huh?" The blonde breaks into a grin so bright it lights up Lena's entire useless empty lesbian soul.
The blonde much to Lena's gay panic, pokes her head in and looks at the assortment of gifts in her backseat.
"Looks like a lucky girl. You must be a great mom."
Okay, so what if she didn't know what Ruby wanted for her birthday and got her everything that Lena thinks a thirteen year-old wants? And so what if she used her goddaughter as an excuse, sue her, at least she got treated to this officer's smile right?
"Thank you. She's 13 today. Didn't know what she wanted so I uh- got everything..." she gestures weakly to the gifts.
"Well, I'm sure you're going to make her happy today."
Yeah, I'm also sure you can make me very, very happy, officer.
"Mm-hm. Yes, that's the goal."
"Well, I won't keep you any longer."
Oh no please you can keep me as long as you like.
"Just don't speed again next time, alright ma'am? Tell your girl I wish her a happy birthday."
Lena stays there seated like an idiot as her eyes remains glued to the officer's err, backside while she walks away and mounts her bike again.
God, what I wouldn't give for me to mount her instead.
She gives Lena a small salute goodbye that was not supposed to be as hot as it is, before fitting her helmet and making the bike roar to life.
Lena remains stationary for a few moments, replaying the whole exchange in her head again and again. Before getting shocked into the present by her phone's shrill ringing.
Sam's face lights up the screen.
Shit, Sam's gonna kill me.
******
Sam doesn't kill her, at least not directly.
She does make her heart stop though.
"Lena!" Sam greets. "Finally! Ruby's waiting for you. Here let me take these. I have somebody I want to introduce to you."
Sam grabs the gifts from her arms and doesn't even bat an eye at the number of it all. She's learned not to fight Lena when it comes to spoiling Ruby. The house is decked in streamers and confetti. Outside, you can hear the high-pitched giggling of teenage girls.
Sam drags her out into the garden where the real party is.
"Sorry, I'm late. I got held up by-"
Lena's entire being freezes. Her sentence remains broken.
"Ma'am? I mean Ms. Luthor? I mean Le-wait your Ruby's other mom?"
"Kara! This is Le- other mom? Wait what? Do you two know each other?"
"Ruby's got another mom?"
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!!!!"
Everything happens so fast, suddenly officer--named Kara, apparently--is standing there in Sam's garden, Kara is saying something. And then Sam is also saying something and then a red-head that Lena has no idea who the hell is, is also talking and before Lena could even process a single thing, she gets tackled by a thirteen year-old.
"Happy Birthday, Ruby," She manages to squeeze out as Ruby knocks the breath out of her. In the distance she can hear Sam go, "Ruby! Careful!"
"Your gifts are in the living room," she whispers in her ear and then Ruby is off dashing, with nothing but a yell of "Thanks Aunt Lena!!" into the wind.
And now, Lena is faced with the reality of being introduced to the officer she's been drooling over.
"Okay, so let me clear this up. You got pulled up, by Kara here," Sam shakes Kara, who she's got under her shoulder. "For overspeeding because, and I quote, 'You were late for your daughter's birthday'??? Did I get that right??"
"Uh yes, that pretty much sums it up," Kara mumbles, staring straight at Lena.
Sam's got a knowing look on her face that Lena wants so badly to slap out of her.
"Interesting." Sam smirks at her. "Daughter huh?"
"Oh my god, stop it. I only said it so she'd let me go faster," Lena bursts out. "Technically, I am Ruby's other mom. I'm the honorary cool mom."
She really wishes her face isn't as red as she feels it is.
"No, you're the godmother and I'm the cool mom," Sam says smoothly. "But, before we get off topic, this is Alex and this is her sister, Kara."
Lena has heard all about Alex, dashing FBI agent and Sam's recent object of affection. What she hasn't heard about is, Alex's younger, more gorgeous and Lena hopes not straight sister.
"Hi, good to meet you, Lena." Alex gives her a firm grip which she returns with a smile.
"Hi," Kara says shyly, turning to her, she's wearing glasses and it's such a far cry from the person Lena's met on the road. This version is softer, somewhat warmer.
The blatant difference doesn't really deter Lena's want to climb her like a tree, though.
"Hi," Lena parrots back, holding out a hand. Kara takes it so gently and Lena feels like she's going to pass out when the warmth of Kara's hand envelops her.
She's blushing from her head to toe and she doesn't really care if Sam--or Kara for that matter--sees notices.
"How come I got here faster than you did?"
Well, that's because I had to spend at least 15 minutes on the side of the road trying to calm my breathing, trying to flush out the fantasies in my head and wow you're really gorgeous, has anybody told you that?
Lena settles with, "Ah, well, motorcycles are faster than cars I guess."
Kara gives her that smile again and Lena feels her face breaking into one too.
"Well, doesn't matter. I'm just real glad you're here now, Lena."
"Me too, Kara, me too."
prompt list here
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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years
Text
Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)
Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.
Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside
Main Masterlist
A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.
Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.
Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.
Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.
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Chapter 2: Just My Type
It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.
After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.
Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.
One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.
You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.
When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.
Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.
It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.
Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.
To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.
When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.
You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.
He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.
“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.
“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.
“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.
“He’s a widower.”
His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”
Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.
“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.
“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.
“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.
“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.
“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.
“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.
He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”
You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”
“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”
Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.
“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”
“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.
“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.
The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.
‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’
Aiden was right.
Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.
You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.
Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.
You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.
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That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.
Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.
The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.
Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.
As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    
Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.
As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.
~
I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers
                                                                                            ~
You stilled as you read it over and over again.
An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.
All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.
Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.
That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!
You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.
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 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.
While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.
“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.
“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.
You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.
In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.
You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.
“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”
You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.
You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.
He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.
As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.
“You look stunning.”
You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.
“Thank you.”
“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.
The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.
Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.
He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.
Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.
You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.
You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.
You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.
You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.
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Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.
Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.
This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.
When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.
“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.
Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”
“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”
That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.
“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”
“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.
The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.
Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.
His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.
When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.
Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.
The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.
You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?
Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.
“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”
Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.
“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.
You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.
When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.
“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.
Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.
She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.
“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.
“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.
“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”
Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.
“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”
She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”
You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.
Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”
“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.
“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.
Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.
As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.
“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”
His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.
“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.
He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  
The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.
His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.
You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.
He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.
Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.
He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.
When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.
He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”
“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.
“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”
You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.
They never came.
Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.
“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.
You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.
Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.
Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.
A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.
‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’
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drosera-nepenthes · 3 years
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A Royal Recluse: Princess Clotilde
Just at the time when, in consequence of the weakness and folly of the republican government, certain French Monarchists are looking to Prince Victor Napoleon Bonaparte as the possible savior of their country, the Prince, whose marriage to Princess Clementina of Belgium recently brought him before the public, was watching by the deathbed of his mother, Princess Clotilde of Savoy, who breathed her last on June 25. The story of this royal lady is a pathetic one and, apart from the interest that is attached to her as the mother of the imperial candidate to the French throne, her personal character was one of rare beauty.
She was the daughter of Victor Emmanuel II, first King of Italy, and of Adelaide, Archduchess of Austria, and was born at Turin on March 2, 1843. Her mother died in 1855, leaving five young children, of whom Clotilde was the eldest, the others being Humbert, the future King of Italy ; Amadeo, Duke of Aosta ; Maria Pia, the queen dowager of Portugal, and a son who died in childhood. The Queen of Sardinia (Victor Emmanuel had not at that time laid violent hands on the independent states of Italy) was an exemplary wife and mother, and her orphan daughters were carefully educated by the attendants whom she had placed about them.
Never was a princess more ruthlessly sacrificed to political interests than the eldest princess of Savoy. When a mere child of sixteen, Clotilde was chosen to cement the alliance between France and Sardinia, and was promised in marriage to Prince Napoleon Jerome, nephew of Napoleon I and first cousin Napoleon III, the reigning sovereign. Princess Clotilde was connected with the Bourbons, her very name was French and was given to her in memory of the French Princess Marie Clotilde, sister of Louis XVI, who married a King of Sardinia ; but allied as she was by close ties of blood to the Bourbons, she had nothing in common with the Bonapartes who occupied their place, and a more ill-assorted couple never existed than the middle-aged, violent, cynical and free-thinking Prince Napoleon and the daughter of the most ancient royal house in Europe, who traditions and surroundings were strictly conservative and religious. Their marriage took place at Turin on January 30, 1859. The bride was sixteen and the bridegroom thirty-seven. He had a handsome presence and was intelligent and well informed and well informed, but neither his private life nor his freely expressed opinions on public matters made him estimable or lovable. His attitude with regard to his cousin, the Emperor, was one of constant opposition, and it was reported that his anti-religious views led him to take part in the banquets organized by a group of free thinkers on Good Friday. Under the Second Empire the French Government was officially Catholic, and Prince Napoleon's hostile and aggressive attitude was pronounced ill-bred, if not worse. Throughout France he was distinctly unpopular.
The young bride, married to this unsympathetic nephew of the great Napoleon, probably had few illusions as to the sum of happiness that awaited her in her new home. There are still some old men living who remember her when she took possession of the Palais Royal, Prince Napoleon's Paris house.: a slight, pale girl, with fluffy, fair hair and bright eyes, not pretty but singularly attractive. Her high breeding stood her in good stead in the somewhat parvenu atmosphere of the Court of the Tuileries, she had a royal dignity all her own, and her simplicity of heart was combined with much quiet firmness. From the first she ordered her life according to the principles in which she had been educated. An early riser, even at the Palais Royal, she gave much time to prayer and to works of mercy, but her piety, says M. Emile Ollivier, a former minister of Napoleon II, “never made her tiresome or intolerant. She believed that the most useful sermon was the practice of the virtues that are taught by faith.” Her husband, although so widely apart from her, acknowledged her goodness. “Clotilde is a saint,” he sometimes said ; “if there were many like her, I believe I myself should end by becoming devout.”
When the disastrous war of 1870 brought terror and shame upon France, the Princess was in Paris. During that fatal month of August every day came news of a fresh defeat, and the revolution that was to break out on the 4th of September was already distinctly perceptible; the infuriated and terrified people made the imperial government responsible for the reverses that so keenly wounded their patriotic pride.
Princess Clotilde was alone at the Palais Royal ; her husband was with the army, her three children she sent to Switzerland, where Prince Napoleon had an estate; but she steadily refused to leave Paris while the Empress Eugénie remained at the Tuileries. There was not much personal sympathy between the two; it was Princess Clotilde's feeling of loyalty that chained her to the post danger as long as there was a semblance of imperial government in Paris.
In vain her husband wrote imperious messages bidding her join her children at Prangins; in vain her father sent the Marquis Spinela to Paris to escort her ; the Princess so yielding in everyday life, was unbending in her decision to remain at the palace as long as the lonely woman at the Tuileries was the nominal ruler of France ; she had shared the splendors of the Empire, and it went against her noble spirit to desert the Empress.
The letter this young woman, a stranger in a strange land, wrote to her father on August 25, 1870, has been quoted by the French papers. It is a right royal letter worthy of the daughter of kings:
“I am a French woman,” she says. “I cannot desert my country. When I married although so young, I knew what I was doing and if I did it, it was because I wished to do so. The interest of my husband, of my children and of my country require that I should remain here. The honor of my name, your honor, my dear father, and that of my country also demand it. Nothing will make me fail in what I believe to be my duty to the end... You know that the house of Savoy and fear have never gone together, and you would not wish that they should meet in my person.”
At last, when the Empress was driven from her palace by the mob, the Princess considered that she was free to follow, but how different was the departure of the two women!
The brilliant and beautiful sovereign, closely disguised, was only able to leave Paris owing to the assistance of her American dentist, Dr. Evans; her young cousin made her exit as a princess. In an open carriage, accompanied by her lady in waiting, she drove to the railway station in broad daylight. The excited people, awed by her courage and dignity, saluted her as she passed out of their sight, a truly royal and saintly figure.
Princess Clotilde lived for some years at Prangins, near Geneva, where she devoted herself to the education of her three children; then, when her husband was allowed to return to France, the difficulties of her married life were such that by mutual consent she retired to the Castle of Moncalieri, near Turin, with her young daughter. Here, in the home of her childhood, she spent nearly forty years. They were years of peace, largely marked by sorrow. Four times only did she emerge from her retreat, once in January 1878, when she heard that her father lay dangerously ill in Rome. She had suffered cruelly from the spoliation of the Holy See by the house of Savoy, and the remembrance of her father's part in the matter prompted her to fly to his bedside. On the way she heard that he was dead, and she sadly returned to Moncalieri. In 1891, she again started for Rome, this time to visit her husband, who lay dying at the Hotel de Russie. Those who saw the Princess during those solemn days can never forget her sweetness, earnestness and gentle patience. What passed between her and Prince Napoleon none can tell, but Cardinal Mermillod a frequent visitor to the sick room, professed himself satisfied, after two private interviews, that the dying man was fully conscious. The Princess, whose married life, it is well known, had been a via crucis, remained near him to the end, praying incessantly for the soul that probably owes its salvation to her intercession. Again in 1903 and in 1904, she left Moncalieri to visit her sister-in-law, Princess Mathilde Bonaparte, whose deathbed she attended.
Her life, as it neared the end became more and more that of a recluse. Her sons lived their own lives in Brussels and in Russia; her daughter, having married a Prince of Savoy, was near to her, and their visits, occasionally brought an element of joy into the silent castle. Last autumn, Prince Victor Napoleon's marriage to the Princess Clémentine of Belgium gladdened his mother's heart. It was celebrated at Moncalieri, and to those who attended the ceremony the most striking figure present was the slight, gray-haired lady, plainly dressed in black, whose eyes had the far-away look of those who are nearing the eternal shore. Even in the days of her youth Princess Clotilde's spirituality struck M. Emile Ollivier. It gave her, he says a singular insight into all questions that touch on right and wrong; she possessed the gifts of the true mystics, “who judge human affairs with a clearness and rectitude born of detachment.” Her chief link with the outer world during the long, silent years of old age was her love for the poor, to whom she gave royally, with a loving kindness that made her gifts more precious. Their grief was great when they heard of her death, and their prayers will follow her remains to the royal mausoleum of La Superga, near Turin, where the daughter of the Sardinian Kings sleeps with her ancestors.
America. United States, America Press, 1911.
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motherjoel · 4 years
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last cup of coffee (spencer reid x reader)
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summary: you and spencer are the famous frenemies of the BAU, but one day he goes too far in a fight and the team decides to force you both into the same car to make up. little did you know, the check engine light isn’t just a suggestion.
a/n: this is on my ao3 but i wanted to post it on here too! let me know what you think :)
wc: 2.6k
tw: brief mention of suicide
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“Triple A says it’ll be a few hours before they’ll get here,” Spencer sighed, shutting off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. The car engine had stopped working about 10 minutes ago and you cursed yourself for your terrible navigation skills. It may have been your fault that you had no idea where you were, but you'd never admit to it- like many other things you’d never admit to. Your extreme sense of pride led you to blame Spencer for not doing anything about the check engine light. It was this same sense of pride that hid your real feelings for this man- feelings you would never admit to even yourself. Instead, you shielded yourself from these emotions in the form of daily bickering matches with Mr. Genius.
The two of you had ended up in the same car on the way back to the hotel, which was insisted on by the team. You could feel the tension in the air- the tension that had been there since you stormed out of the break room earlier. You both normally never went for blood in these arguments- nothing behind either of your words were to be taken seriously, even the team knew this. Everyone knew that you and Spencer had a bit of a love hate relationship- today, however, was focused on hate. Ever since he went a little too far during one of your bickering matches, you had been icy with him. The team couldn’t take the tension, so they figured a long car ride would solve the issue, except, what was meant to be only an hour of awkward silence was now an indefinite amount of time.
“Well that's just great,” you huffed, going to check your phone to see that it was dead. You dropped it into your lap with a sigh and leaned your head on the window to gaze outside. The cold glass felt nice on your forehead- a contrast to the flushed hotness you had been feeling whenever your mind drifted to your fight with Spencer. The pent up anxiety from this case had really weighed on you- the unsub was killing teen girls and was framing the deaths to look like a suicides. This struck a chord with you, but you tried your hardest to not let it show. You thought back to your argument earlier, where your icy exterior had faltered slightly.
Most of the team was in the break room of the police station you were working the case at, fueling up on the coffee you all so desperately needed. You were the last one to fill your cup, or so you assumed, so you decided to fill your mug to the top with what was left in the coffee pot. Spencer was the last to walk in, and when he saw you holding the empty pot he immediately started in on you.
“Wow, I'm not surprised Y/N took the last of the coffee. Predictable,” he said with a huff, slamming his travel mug on the counter. You winced at the noise, your stress headache was back and you didn’t feel like dealing with his temper.
“You know what Reid? Maybe if you weren’t shitting around with that pretty receptionist over there, you would’ve gotten here on time. Not my fault men think with their dicks,” you said the last sentence under your breath, but he definitely heard it from his flustered reaction.
“I was asking her to bring me some files!” he yelled, seemingly defending himself to the room of your teammates who had stopped in their tracks to watch their daily entertainment. “You know what, Y/N, you’re just insufferable,” he said, turning to the coffee machine to fill it up. Your eyes widened, but you tried your best to mask your expression or to come with a response- when both failed, you stormed out of the room and went to the bathroom to ground yourself, not hearing Morgan whack him on the back of the head once you were out of sight.
-
You had both been silent for about 20 minutes when you decided to look back at him for the first time. He was shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable for a nap. You couldn’t stand to sit here in silence for what could possibly be hours, so you tried to break the ice.
“Tired?” you asked him. Simple, but enough to get the two of you talking. Or so you thought.
“Yeah, someone took the last cup of coffee,” he said sarcastically, not daring eye contact.
Groaning, you opened the car door, stepped out and slammed it, deciding to walk down the street you had stopped on until you reached the dead end. It had begun to snow as you walked, and you cursed yourself for forgetting your jacket. At this point, it didn’t matter- the icy coldness of the outdoors was better than the coldness coming from Spencer's attitude.
 After walking for a few minutes, you had come across a cliff with a view overlooking the city below. The sight was enough to make you forget about your dead phone and the genius, who had, unbeknownst to you, quietly followed you to this spot. You spotted a green wooden bench overlooking the city and took a seat. It wasn’t long before your tears began to flow. They were wet hot tears of embarrassment, of anger, and of sadness. For years working in the BAU, you had tried to keep up your barrier, being the badass in the black boots (Garica’s loving nickname for you). Your past weighed on you, however, and you kept everyone at an arm's length. All of these people you so desperately wanted to be closer to, and one person in particular who uncharacteristically gave you butterflies. Letting these people in, however, meant vulnerability. Getting close to someone just meant that losing them would inflict great pain on you, and you didn’t think you could survive any more loss in your life.
After crying for a few minutes and wiping your tears on your sleeves, you felt a sweater being draped around your shoulders. The sweater smelled like him. He made his way around the bench and sat next to you. You hastily wiped the last of your tears and scooted to the edge of the bench to stay as far away from Spencer as possible.
“So, why'd you follow me? I thought I was ‘insufferable’” you quoted him from earlier, the sentiment that struck a chord. You hugged the sweater tighter to your body, ignoring that it belonged to him because the chill of the night catching up with you.
“Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry about that. You know how I get when I'm having difficulty with a case, and it's not like we have a great track record with each other,” he defended himself, and he was right. Neither of you really expressed outward kindness for each other, but you never knew why. “But… I didn’t think today was any different,” he finally looked up at you. 
“You’re right, Reid. Today isn’t any different,” you sighed, avoiding actually telling him what was wrong- although your splotchy red post-cry face was telling enough. He flinched at your use of Reid- although you two were “frenemies,” you always called him Spencer, sometimes even Spence. The team teased you for it but you shrugged it off- “Spence” was just easier to say, or so you told yourself.
“Then… why did you storm off?” he asked softly, looking back down at his hands on his lap, fidgeting with them slightly. You avoided his gaze, knowing that you were about to tell him something that only Garcia knows- she did a bit of research on you because she wanted to know why you were so cold, and when she found out that your parents had died at a young age, she was nothing but kind to you. She also kept everything to herself, which you were grateful for.
“When I was in high school, I was in a really bad place,” you started, fighting back the tears. Spencer scooted closer to you, urging you to continue. “I wasn't very well liked. When I was 15, my parents both died in a car crash and I transferred schools to live with my aunt,” you confessed. Spencer's expression saddened greatly, and he rested his hand on your arm as a form of comfort. You gave him a look that said “oh, and that's not even the half of my trauma” before you continued.
“At this new school, I was bullied a lot. Like, a lot a lot. People told me I was a waste of space, I was… insufferable,” you said, ignoring his pitying expression. “I started to believe these things. Spence… I tried to take my own life,” you said, finally breaking down in tears. Before you could continue, he wrapped his arms around you and you buried your face in his chest, letting your messy tears stain his shirt without thinking twice. His hands stroked your back, soothing you. You had melted into him, finally feeling vulnerable for the first time in years. For some reason, you were no longer embarrassed of your vulnerable side. You bore your heart and soul to this man and were greeted with nothing but kindness. Pulling away for a moment, you continued telling your story.
“I’m doing a lot better now,” you said, wiping your tears with your sleeve as he maintained eye contact, showing his full support. “I don’t have those thoughts anymore, and if I do I know to get help. It’s just difficult to get close to people because I'm afraid… that if I lose them, I’ll be right back where I was when I was 18,” you finished, realizing his hands were grabbing yours.
“Y/N, I am so sorry. This case probably affected you differently and I was such an ass earlier, god I'm terrible,” he criticized himself, putting his head in his hands. You reached over and took his hands in yours again, resting your entwined fingers between you. This was the most physical contact you had ever had with him, but for some reason it felt more right than anything- you never knew what you were missing until now.
“Spence, there's no way that you would have known,” you soothed, looking into his eyes and rubbing his hand with your thumb. He looked down at your hands and sighed, before returning his gaze to you, but there was something different about his expression. Rather than his usual contempt, or even the pity from a few minutes ago, he now looked almost amazed. Like you were some celebrity or a superhero who had just saved the world. Before you even knew what you were doing, you started to lean in, Spencer mirroring you. Soon enough, you were inches away from his fluttering lashes, you could feel his breath on your lips. You pulled away suddenly, apologizing profusely for your out of character actions.
“Oh my god Spence, I'm so sorry, I think I'm just emotional right now, and you're being so nice to me, I didn’t mean to make things weird,” you avoided eye contact, face flushed with embarrassment.
“Y/N, it's okay! I leaned in too…” he blushed. You looked back up at him to see his eyes were already on you. Simultaneously, you both leaned in and crushed your lips together, his arms snaking around your waist and yours resting on the sides of his face. Your lips moved in perfect harmony with passion as you leaned your back against the bench armrest, him leaning forward to keep your lips connected. There was a hunger between you two- like these years of bickering and sexual tension (that apparently everyone but you two had noticed) had built up so much, it finally spilled and manifested itself as a makeout session with your once enemy.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, entwined with each other, before you both came up for air. He pulled away from you, still leaning over you but his face was now a couple inches away, and smiled. You both sat up and started to laugh uncontrollably. It was ridiculous, really- the two of you having an intense makeout sesh only seconds after you bore your soul to him. But he was Spencer, and you were you. 
“That was…” you started.
“Amazing,” Spencer finished for you. You both sat in silence for a minute, his hand touching his lips, before you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder, curling your legs under you. He wrapped his arm around you and your hands met, resting between the two of your warm bodies.
 “What are you thinking about?” he asks you. You sigh in contentment, the cold air biting your nose in the right way.
“I'm thinking that this is one of those moments that are so... perfect. It’s just so wonderful, you almost feel sad because... nothing will ever be this good again,” you confessed. He took his arm back from around your shoulder and faced you, looking in your eyes.
“If you’ll be my girlfriend, I can promise you that we can have endless moments like this,” he told you, taking you by surprise. You looked at him, smiling widely as his face broke into insecurity.
“Your… girlfriend?” you asked, still in shock. He started to fidget a bit in his seat.
“Obviously, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, I know this is really sudden but I don't know… I'm sorry, I know we're supposed to hate each other or whatever, but I’ve just… I’ve liked you for a while now,” he blurted. You laughed at his shyness, it was really adorable to see him flustered like this around you.
 “Spencer, I really like you. I’ve liked you ever since you spilled your coffee on me on my first day,” you recalled fondly, he smiled. “I even liked you when you tried to clean it up but accidentally felt up my boob,” you laughed at that memory, he blushed profusely. “I think these little arguments that we get into were just fueled by my ‘keep everyone at arm's length’ rule- it was you that I was afraid to get close to, because Spencer Reid, you are dangerous. You have the capability of shattering my heart into pieces because I just like you so damn much,” you confessed to him, his face was in awe. You studied his expression, lips parted slightly, eyebrows raised. His eyes held pools of adoration, and rather than be scared and shy away from it, you finally wanted to dive in and soak in it. His expression softened as he leaned in, tilting your head up by putting his hand on your chin.
“Y/N,” he whispered. “I swear to never shatter your heart into pieces if it's the last thing I do,” he said softly before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to yours. This kiss held less intensity, but more soft passion and caring. You felt safe in his embrace, safe for the first time in years, and you knew this is where you were meant to be.
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regina-del-cielo · 3 years
Text
Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again
I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf. 
I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.
Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.
By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.
For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)
Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.
(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)
(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)
The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.
They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.
They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.
They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine. 
The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.
But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.
At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.
He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.
They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.
“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.
Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.
When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.
And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?
(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)
For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.
But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.
After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.
(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)
Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.
The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.
Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.
Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.
“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*
Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too? 
If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.
(spoiler: it works)
When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.
(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)
seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.
(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)
The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.
(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)
“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)
“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.
“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.
Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.
“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.
“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”
“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.
“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.
“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”
“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.
“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.
As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could  easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.
But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.
His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain. 
He’s not alone anymore.
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maxburnett · 3 years
Text
Chandelier, TJ Hammond
- (asexual!fem!reader x TJ Hammond)
Summary: Soulmate - Your soulmate understands and connects with you in every way and on every level, which brings a sense of peace, calmness, and happiness. Two broken individuals find peace and love when trying to fix the shambles in their lives caused by years of addictions.
Warnings: angst, self-loathing, mentions of drugs, mentions of suicide, fluff, happy ending
If you recognize this, I uploaded it about a month ago. I just wanted to make an aesthetic for it and I didn't like the format of the description etc. I own nothing but my writing; things in italics are quotes found on Google.
Words: 1,654
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~ Recovery ~
Recovery is an acceptance that your life is in shambles, and you have to change.
He had never wanted to be like this; he had never wanted drugs and alcohol to rule his life; TJ had always wondered what had happened? Why was he such a failure to his parents? Why did he hate who he was and who he had become? Would things ever even get better for him? After two attempts to end it all, after everything he had put his family through, TJ thought maybe he had found common ground and a purpose when he had woke up in the hospital bed with his mother sitting there by his side; however, like always it didn’t last.
He lasted a whole six months being clean and sober, then one day, everything came crashing right back down, and he felt like a thunderstorm with no umbrella or cover. After six whole months, he was back on the bottle, waking up after blacking out, not even remembering drinking the night before. He started cocaine again a couple of weeks later, but this time, he knew he needed help, and he got his mom to put him into rehab once more.
That’s when he met her, beautiful as broken as he was; an addict for ten years, in and out of rehab; losing everything, lost to the world, and a failure to her parents. They had laid on the ground outside of the rehab facility talking about their problems while holding hands, and everything lined up perfectly. In a world where TJ had felt that everyone was out for him; that the world would be a better place without him; she showed up, and her eyes, those (Y/E/C) eyes, were the beacon of light showing him the way to find his way back. He still thought back to that night; they had laid on the ground, holding hands as they laughed together at TJ telling her the dumbest jokes, and then their conversation moved to the talk about past relationships and the root of all of their problems. They then realized that those two broken people who had questioned everything that had happened in their lives had found their person.
After rehab, they both stayed in touch, texting, telling each other how their Recovery was going; saying “I Love You” in the texts was just second nature, and they meant those words; TJ was in love with her. It felt nice to be able to say that he was in love with someone. Did all “Love” have to be romantic? Did you need the sex and the complications that came with a “relationship” to feel the meaning of true love?
Then it happened, one little fight with his parents over something, and he had a drink again; one drink turned into two; two turned into 4. He needed her; he needed his saving grace.
~Relapsing~
The disease of addiction is a chronic, devious bitch just waiting for you to slip up.
Y/N woke up at the sound of her phone and groaned as she looked over at the clock. Three missed calls—one voicemail. That’s when the alarm set in, and she quickly sat up and pressed play on the phone and listened with bated breath, not sure what she should be expecting. She listened intently and sighed as barely audible sobs filled her ears.
“I’m such a fuck up,” he breathed and let a sob escape his lips. “No wonder my parents don’t want to put up with me … sometimes I wonder why you seem to put up with me.” His voice is shaky and begins to sound hoarse. “I don’t know how you stayed by my side after all this time … when you know I’m going to do nothing but fuck up and disappoint,”
He laughs a little to himself, and her heart breaks as she stands and gathers some clothes, rushing out to her car after grabbing her keys; she listens to the voicemail and hears something that sounds like broken glass as she drives to TJ’s apartment and uses her key to open it up. She rushes in and finds him sitting on the floor in his bathroom. TJ was holding his hand close to his t-shirt as the blood dripped down his hand, and she looked up and saw a broken mirror.
“Look at me, TJ, I’m here,” she said and softly kissed his forehead. “I’m here, baby,” she said as she held him close to her. He rested his head onto her chest, hands clutching her oversized shirt she had been sleeping in as he sobbed and apologized over and over. She helped get him into the shower; he was in such a state of distress that she got into the shower with him still fully clothed to help hold him up. He ended up turning and wrapping his arms around her after the cold water brought him to his senses a little. After they got out of the shower, both changing into dry clothes, she led him to his bed and went around the apartment, and poured out what other alcohol he had before joining him beside him on the bed.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” he said, causing her to smile at that playful nickname he had given her. He breathed out as he laid his head against her hair and giggled against it. “You came here at 3 in the morning,” he hummed against her hair, causing her to playfully hit his chest and look up at him with sad eyes.
“Of course I would; you’re everything to me,” she whispered, and he smiled down at her and pushed some hair out of her face before softly pressing his lips against hers, causing her to freeze. “Please don’t do that,” she whispered and cupped TJ’s face, and he looked at her with a questioning look.
“I-I’m sorry,” TJ stammered, not sure what had gotten into him.
“I’m not mad,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not mad at all, I just … I don’t like that sort of contact,” she said and held onto both of his hands, causing him to look into her eyes with a confused frown. “I’m asexual … I just don’t get feelings like that,” she said and looked into his bright blue eyes. “But know this, TJ, I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone the way that I love you.”
“And I love you,” TJ said as he closed his hands around hers and pressed a gentle kiss to her nose, giggling as she smirked up at him and did the same.
“You’re cute, TJee, I’ll give you that,” she smiled and laid her head down into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms tightly against her.
~All I Need~
Soulmate is an overused term, but a true soul connection is very rare, and very real.
Y/N smiled as she looked around the apartment that she and TJ now shared, her head resting on his chest as he ran his hand up and down her back as she played a video game while lying on his chest. She smiled up at him as he looked down at her with those favorite pair of blue eyes before drawing small circles over the fabric of her t-shirt.
“You’re distracting me, TJ!” She said and giggled as he swooped her up and laid her down, and began to tickle her. “Stop it!” She let out a fit of giggles. “You ass!” She laughed and tried to get him off of her.
“Make me,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her playfully, and she pushed him off playfully before she sat up and caught him staring at her.
“What?” She asked as she absentmindedly played with the ring on her finger that TJ had bought her when she told him that emeralds were her favorite gemstones.
“Just taking in how cute you are, kitten,” he said and leaned in and snuck in a gentle kiss to her cheek and watched as Y/N placed a soft kiss to his nose and giggled as she put the controller to the side and let his arms wrap around her. She stretched and changed the input on the television and put on a channel they both liked and traced circles on his white t-shirt; she watched his face contently as he smiled at what was playing on the television and smiled as he closed his hands around hers as he held her. She closed her eyes, wondering what life would bring them, and found herself turning to look back into TJ’s blue eyes.
“Would you ever want kids? Me to have kids? I mean, there’s a way we can-,” he placed a finger against her mouth and smiled as he softly moved the finger down.
“Whatever life brings our way, I’m going to be right by your side, and if a kid is in our future, then it happens. I hope it has my good looks,” he smirked and laughed as she slapped his shoulder with a smile and leaned to place a kiss onto his pink lips.
“Love you,” she murmured into his lips. TJ smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer into the kiss, they didn't kiss like this often but when they did it was one of his favorite things int he world.
"Love you too, Kitten," he murmured against the kiss.
What they had, they never had to explain. Yes, technically, TJ was sexually attracted to men, but his heart was hers, and hers belonged to him. She had even told him that she didn’t mind if he chose to sleep with men while they were together, but he refused, saying that his body belonged to her. He didn’t need to sleep with random men anymore to fill the void that he had inside of him all of those years, because now his heart was filled with the greatest love he had ever as far as their friends and parents knew, they were a normal couple; but for them, this was their normal, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
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greekbros · 3 years
Text
"greek-Bros Headcanon: The Big 6"
Zeus:
-Pretty much everything about him is pretty standard, including him being your regular man. Flaws and all. Oddly enough he isn't that truly complicated as an individual, after all, all mankind IS mostly modeled after him and few other gods.
-As he and the others were assigned their devine positions, he started taking up attributes of the sky and his own consignated animal the eagle, like feathers instead of hair, incredible eyesight and a tendency to create electricity with excessive movement or emotional outbursts. He's towering and under his more comfortable toga he's fucking BUILT.
-He's a rather decent father by ancient Greek standards, yes almost everything he has done according to mortal men have happened. Of course his own children weren't going to argue against him. However, he always has his offspring and so on in mind. He tries to interact with his children in meaningful ways as much as he can or want, regardless he isn't a forgetful man....just a 'busy' one.
-In spite of his powerful and stern demeanor, he is always constantly at odds with his own inner demons. He's ALWAYS questioning his past actions, he laments his terrible and questionable decision he had ever impulsively but he does take up the traditional mantle of "masculine density" and rarely shows his emotions. When he does show his emotions, it's either heartbreaking or a loud storm targeting said source of destress.
-He deeply loves Hera in every sense of the word, but he has "such a big heart he can't just keep it to himself", quote Zeus. Regardless, he still acts on his impulses and is the root of all his problems. Legend has it, his very essence accidentally created King Henry the 8th and many other historical heartbreakers.
-In spite of making up many of the rules of humanity (with extra help of the rest of his siblings), human mortals have always had a terrible habit of breaking these rules. Zeus has made so.many of these rules that he's just stop keeping up with keeping mortals in place. He just kind of let's things happen. At this point of his existence, his only concern now is to make sure other gods are following their rules.
-He HATES child sacrifices. Mostly because when a living thing gets sacrificed it comes in flesh and blood directly to the land of the gods. So naturally, there is a complete population of "ascended" mortals and animals in Olypmus....and he already has his hands full. Plus he just doesn't like the principal of it all. He genuinely hates children getting hurt in the first place.
-HIS list of enemies is a kilometer long. It includes everything that's a titan, some of his own children (and grandchildren), Hera to a very small extent and Hades.....even though there has been literally NOTHING that has proven Hades is a threat to him.
-The main reason why Zeus adamantly believes that Hades is out to get him is because of HOW he assigned Hades to be god of the underworld..... basically, he asked Hades to check a dark cave.....and closed the cave entrence while he and Poseidon ran off. Hades ironically doesn't care about this and has no real intensions of taking revenge on Zeus for anything, the fact Zeus haphazardly gave him a wife and lives in constant paranoia gives him solence.
-He is extremely defensive of Hermes and Dionysus. Inspite of his claim of loving all his offspring equally, he feels a deeper connection to Hermes considering that he was to be considered the "prodigal usurper" before Dionysus, meanwhile Dionysus is his youngest son with the most responsibility for a god so naturally he's going to keep a closer eye on both just a little bit more. In terms of familiar respect, Athena and Apollo are tied as his most "important" children.
-After Athena's birth, Zeus's mental fortitude, better judgement and intellectual integrity has completely been capped. He constantly has headaches, tends to make terrible decisions, tends to be forgetful, and goes through terrible flashbacks to anything that can come to mind. He still loves and respects his daughter but he has to admit her very presence gives his a headache. It's rumored that his brain is 2/5ths of what it use to be.
-He has no control over Hera and never will. After several take overs, a very nasty scroll call from Nyx for threatening to harm Hypnos, and having several lovers killed by her, he's completely decided that fighting her or arguing with her. He would still end all.of existence for her.
-The only entities he truly fears is Nyx, Gaia and Aphrodite. Nyx being a more intimidating foe of his, Gaia being his own grandmother and Aphrodite being a she-titan who for reason decided it was cash-money as fuck to just take residence in Olypmus.....that....and a good small chunk of his afairs were caused by her and her son Eros.
-He STILL has no idea how Heracles inherited his THICCNESS. He may consider himself thicc but Heracles couldn't have gotten from him.
-He adores all his followers and considers them worthy of answering their prayers.... Except for one. Lycaon.
-He loves giving Hera pet names but due to her burning anger towards him, she won't let him....even though she loves the pet names he gives her.
-He has many professional relationships and alliances with other gods. However he has had a long on-going distrust of the Sumerian gods. He just finds them to be a little too private in comparison to the rest of his fellow gods. That and he's actually jealous of their near perfect beards. His beard tends to sprout stray down feathers.
Hera:
-She was assigned to be the goddess of marriage and the household, however, she has assigned herself as the goddess of the mind, heart and soul. Because as it turns out, she causes more boughts of madness more than Eris and Dionysus combined. She also controls female intuition and matters of personal strength. She's the force that helps feel when something isn't right or when you feel like you need to do something important wether being benign or malignant. She basically IS your emotional support mom/aunt, but she controls you and your emotions. However she actually uses this ability in moderation.
-She is considered as "Step-Mom" by most of Zeus's out of wedlock offspring. She's always extremely shrewed, vindictive and most of the time outright nasty....but that's about it. She will attempt to get you once or twice but if she senses that it could be a massive waste of her time than she'll just make your life a smig shittier. However, she not an "evil" step mom, more of a step mom who has to get use to her step-children, it will take some work for both parties but deep down she's just angry at Zeus.
-She hates Zeus's children, but she isn't heartless, quite the opposite, children are children in her mind regardless if it's hers or not. She'll make it hard for you but if you ask her for help or ask her in the right manner, she will be delighted to help.
-She is your quintessential woman, she loves jewels, the finer things in life, small animals (especially birds) and she can be either the sweetest or the meanest. After all, like Zeus who created MAN, she created WOMAN. Legend has it she actually let the rest of the gods collaborate as a way to make them feel better. Or at least that's how she puts it, turns out Hermes and Aphrodite made a deal to make more like "them" than Hera intended. While MAN was built pretty close to Zeus's intended design, WOMAN was designed with Aphrodite's beauty and tender nature, while Hermes gave "a dirty mind" much like how MAN were given. Basically WOMAN and MAN are completely equal in everyway regardless of "differences".
-Shes also adopted some inhuman attributes, she grows feathers on some portions of her hair, she feels insecure about them but Zeus adores this because it reminds him that's birds mate for life. Her feathers look more like feathers of a peahen and seamlessly blends with her hair.
-Her ONLY desire is for Zeus to stop cheating on her. She literally wants nothing more. That, and for Dionysus and Apollo to stop steal her dresses for their own endeavors.
-She loves her biological children and their offspring but somehow they keep disappointing her. Ares loves a woman who cheats on Hephaestus and Hebe is in love with the son of the woman who Zeus cheated with. She believes it's karma but at the same time she couldn't be less surprised.
-She loves Hephaestus, but due to his limped leg and his more rugged appearance, she barely tolerates looking at him. Which is strange because Hephaestus heavily resembles Zeus.
-She knows the truth about Erichthonius. He's also her favorite grandson. She has her eye on almost everything, she actually saw the whole drama between Athena and Hephaestus. At first she wanted to intervene but after she noticed this consummated a child and saw how Athena took initiative to take care of the child regardless of her chastity, it gained a little more respect for Athena. Being raised to be a wise young man by Athena and being Hephaestus's biological son, Erichthonius has been secretly considered the most successful grandchild to her.
-Her favorite animals are birds, Zeus as a webbing present gave her the chance to create birds. Thanks to her, the skies are filled with songs.
-She doesn't have a lot of enemies, however, Aphrodite is a big contender against her. While Hera controls the integrity of women, Aphrodite controls their emotional and sexual impulses. So Hera is at constent odd against her...that...and the main reason why Hera married her off to Hephaestus because she wanted to make amends to him....not make his life anymore worse than it already is.
-Hera is aware how most of Zeus's children feel about her, but she appreciates it dearly when one of them does something nice for her....even though she probably demanded it or care for it.
Poseidon and Amphitrite:
-Hes absolutly BOMBASTIC. He's the most carefree of his brothers, most physically fit and considered the most handsome.
-His marriage is ironically WORSE than Zeus's, but he and Amphitrite consensually agreed to pretend nothing is wrong.... apparently it works like a charm and they barely fight. However this is considered a massively concerning situation to Zeus and Hera because the both of them know that a relationship that doesn't regularly express their grievances...often end sour.
-Like his siblings, he's adopted physical attributes that correspond to their environment. Apparently, he has grown gills, his 'beard' is actually octopus tentacles and he has scales in certain places. He can shapeshift into many aquatic creatures.
-Unlike his brothers, his offspring are genetic tossups. One can look relatively ok, another can be a cyclops for no reason. His most famous child is Triton, but the poor lad is a rather simple and humble young mad who has very little aspersions in life. Poseidon tries to encourage him to do something productive but Triton just sort of falls below average in popularity.
- He's the best horseman in all of Greece, in fact his love for horses only rivals his love for literally trying to destroy humanity and his wife.
-He has a love/hate relationship with his nephews. However if you would ask him which nephew he dislikes the most, it would be Dionysus. Oddly enough, Dionysus actually likes to antagonize Poseidon, mostly because he's actually more strict than his dad. It wasn't until the invention of the dolphin that made Dionysus's and Poseidon's relationship between each other a little better. Poseidon has a less innocent hatred for Athena, after losing patronship over Athens, he's sworn vengeance over her. However it's more akin to sending really annoying Facebook messages rather than epic natural disasters. Once a year, he enjoys terrorizing Athens through changing the spring water to saltwater for a few days, make all the horses aggressive and give "oddly constent" tremors.
-If it wasn't for Zeus proposing to Hera first, he would have married her instead. Even though the two had married different people, it always seemed the two had a very interesting chemistry.
- Even though there may be a serious discourse on who it's Theseus's father. The reality is Poseidon doesn't actually want to claim Theseus as his own for mysterious reasons.
-He never sent a different bull to Minos, Poseidon took the form of a bull and cursed Pasiphaë. This was the first account of a god that WASN'T Aphrodite and Eros to have caused someone to be sexually attracted by magic. This has been a family secret between the big 6 for years because if any other gods found out they could just will people's passion, the world be in a state of pure chaos. Poseidon however has an even dirtier secret, he didn't use his godly powers on Pasiphaë, instead he just found a way to get her specifically attracted to him in bull form by using an old recipe for an aphrodisiac from the sunken city of Atlantis. He doesn't tell the truth about this because he's an asshole that way. He finds it more useful to have the other gods believing he had something in reality he didn't have.
- He has a fun hobby of naming his horses the most adorable and somewhat random names, like "Peach Basket", "TootsieFoot" and ect. It ended up being a traditional way of naming race horses in racing derbies.
- He has absolutly no love for humans. He enjoys that mortals worship him and such but the fact he has an entire ocean at his and his wife's disposal, he honestly feels that he has very little need for mortal worshippers....at least this is what he originally thought until his power was contested by an ocean god named Dagon. Long story short, Poseidon no longer takes mortals for granted anymore....and likely never will.
- Poseidon is Olypmus's most prolific warden, like Hades, Poseidon has his own prisoners of war. Most of them being titans, monsters, giants and occasionally malignant gods. It's even argued that he's a much more strict jailer considering being sealed away by Poseidon is a death sentence.
-His greatest pleasure is people enjoying themselves in water in positive ways. Swimming, playing games, and gently interacting with marine animals. However his greatest distain comes from mortals misusing his ocean.
- He has a professional relationship with mostly other Greek water gods and anything related to water. He monitors the water nymphs, consoles all horse-like beasts and so on and so forth.
- She has equal control of the ocean just like her husband. In fact, she has equal control of half of everything Poseidon has. Apparently this is what helps their marriage and it almost makes up for Poseidon's eccentric behaviors.
- Not much is known about her, but based on her interactions, she's a lot more nicer and more gentle than Poseidon when it comes to leadership. She's generous, eccentrically fabulous and has the same energy of a 1920's rich hamptons housewife.
-Shes genuine friends with all of the goddesses and she rarely plays on a specific team. She's a bizzarly lucid gal who loves to lend a shoulder to cry on.
-She and only she has the semi-chaotic energy to tolerate Poseidon and his afairs.
- If Poseidon wants to do something, he would HAVE to ask Amphitrite for permission. After all it isn't "Your side, your rules", it's a partnership between a married couple.
Demeter:
- Controlling over the domain of the earth and harvest, you'll always see some type of vegetation growing on her. It mostly appears as if she fashionably placed strands of wheat grain, fruit flowers and leaves inductive of the season. She and Hestia are the only ones of the big six who don't have animal based attributes. Demeter is also the tallest of the sisters.
-Her input in important matters usually revolve around conservation, providing sustenance and extra maternal perspective. It's contestant as well that she can even be more motherly than Hera, even at her most grim demeanor.
-She is a loving and doting mother. She's the most gentle of the goddesses and yet she can be just as harsh when she needed to.
-She consideres the earth her personal garden, but she shares it with world. Her favorite activity is to create new and exciting plants with Persephone (Or Kore as she prefers to call Persephone) and spending time with her.
-She has other offspring but she doesn't make a fuss about their fathers and their lack of presence. As long as she can keep all of them safe, it's all she needs and cares about.
- Demeter can easily put everyone in Olypmus to their knees. The gods and by extension mortals all have to depend on her and her harvests. When Persephone was taken, she placed all the whole of Greece in a state of famine.
- She use to love and trust Hades, but after he had haphazardly taken Persephone away, all that changed. She keeps a serious eye on Hades since than and has a deep resentment for him and his actions. She barely acknowledges him when he's present but she's still cordial. After a few years however, her attitudes towards him mellowed seeing how Persephone looks forward to seeing Hades every winter.
- She would have married Zeus if his eyes weren't set on Hera. Like Poseidon and Hera, there has been speculation that he and Demeter would have been a better married couple considering both of their personalities would have complimented each other. But that belongs in the "stray line".
-Being the goddess of the harvest, she mostly tends to the matters of farmers and gardeners. By extension, she has an extremely healthy relationship with other vegetation gods, especially Dionysus. Whom oddly enough is treated more like an adopted son rather than a nephew.
- She adores all of her nieces and nephews equally, mostly because she sees that all of them have utilized her gifts to the world in the proper manner. She adores the Bois, because each other of them represents an important value in cultivation.
-She tends to be an anxious woman, and at worst a worrywart. However, she always tries to keep a level head when she desperately needs it.
-She loves animals just as much as she does plants. She in fact helped console in the creation of everything based on how things could tend to themselves without the intervention of the gods. Her ingenuity help give rise to what is considered the concept of the circle of life and the food chain.
-She has an amazing connection between her sisters, prior to being assigned their domains, the three of them would often play with each other and stay close to their mother Rhea. The brothers would always be rummaging around the place and would often tease their sisters.
Hestia:
- The eldest and most lackadaisical sister, she's the more tomboyish of the sisters and loves to rough house.
-She has dark hair with ember roots, the brightness of which increases with emotions. Her physical attributes is her hair always looking alive with flames and being able to increase the temperature in her body.
-Shes a stocky, jolly woman who loves to work in the kitchen whip up something special. She's mostly known for her amazing recipes and her staff of Vestals. She may not keep herself up to the standards of her sisters, but she sees beauty in herself just the way she is.
-The Vestals in her domain are sadly those who "failed to keep the sacred fire lit", that must be sacrificed to the flame. Hestia dispises this punishment, but sadly it seems rarely any of her so-called priests listen to her. Everytime when she receives a vestal, she welcomes them with open arms, a big warm hug and a heartfelt apology for thier suffering. She than mentors them in the ways of the hearth, the real ways straight from the source.
- Like Demeter, she has a massive soft spot for her nieces and nephews. Dionysus again seemingly being the common favorite due to his fun loving personality and his contributions. In a strange sense, as a gift for finally proving himself worthy of a seat in Olypmus, she gave him her own. Hephaestus is another favorite of hers. She often times invites Hephaestus to her domain to have a chat, she often feels for him and tries her best to give him his over due affections in the form of baked goods, interesting items she has been gifted through the hearth and such.
-She isn't a political person to begin with, what one does with their business is their own in her mind. So when she gets called up to converse in such matters, she either stays out of it or she determines herself if it's worth her time.
- She has a mild aversion to water. Poseidon often teases her by flicking a small splash of water, but it just peeves her a little. Mostly because water droplets just sizzle on her and it feels like a little lactic acid itch to her. If someone were to have dumped water on her, it would be feel like as if some dunked boiling water with itching powder on you. She always feels warm so she tends to """cool""" herself down with molten magma or bonfire. When she enters flames, it can depend on where it came from; underworld fire often feels like stepping into one of Costco's Freezers for a little bit and normal earthly flames feeling like a little cool breeze to her.
- She has the most communication between her and her worshippers out of any god. So I. Truth, it's actually easy to envoke her through flames and hearthing.
-She isn't just a goddess of the hearth, she's also the goddess of cooks, bakers, female blacksmiths or the wives of blacksmiths, and glassblowers. Thus she has an extremely healthy relationship with Hephaestus.
-The reason why she chose to be a virgin is actually a simple reason. While Artemis represents chasity for childhood innocence and Athena represents chasity for matters of country and country men, Hestia's chasity is all about personal choice and freedom. Why have children of her own when her vestals are basically her own children, she feels love and responsibility for each of them. The reality is she's not into men, in fact if she wanted to relinquish her chastity, she would want a loving wife. But she isn't interested in marriage or a relationship either. She's as she puts it "far too free for anyone". So in truth, she represents freedom of choice and the firing passion that comes with compassion.
Hades:
-He's what you'd expect from someone who lives most of his life in the underworld yet at the same time not. He's tall, pale, has jet black slicked hair, extremely eloquent and distinguishing. He always trails low hanging mist, seemingly gliding throughout, his eyes glow a warm yellow and speaks in a soft but booming voice. He's not as muscular as his brothers, but he is rather dashing.
-He's more akin to being a classical depiction of a gentleman vampire than a god. Due to his occupation, he's developed a very professional disposition. He greets, guides and consoles the dead. At first he might seems intimidating and even at times callous, but he has your best interests at heart and is a fair ruler. Oddly enough if it wasn't for his aesthetic and his reputation of being ruler of the underworld, he would probably be more comparable to an Arthurian ruler.
-Out of all his siblings, he's the least problematic. He keeps to himself so often that it could be YEARS before anyone would hear from him.
-He's a dedicated and simple man of business, and he takes his job very seriously with a healthy amount of exceptions.
-The "reality" of his chance encounter with Persephone was actually before her kidnapping. He met her while taking a chariot ride and had a passing conversation with her, completely unaware she was Demeter's daughter. After coming back to the underworld, his minions found a bizzare type of mold growing deep in Tartarus that consumed souls. In a panicked state, he than kidnapped Persephone in the hopes she would help the situation, she was glad to be of service and was escorted back to earth. After such a strange ordeal, the two of them kept meeting in secret until Persephone decided to stay with Hades for an extended amount of time. After consuming the food of the underworld by mistake, the story starts returns back to the original.
-He doesn't have much of an opinion on his nieces and nephews. He enjoys Hermes's equally hardworking personality and friendly disposition, he's had Apollo make occasional appearances to give Tartarus some form sunlight, he seems to tolerate Dionysus's slacker behavior but he seems have a very strange connection to Dionysus on a "spiritual" level. However he has extremely low patients for Ares. He isn't too fond of him due to the fact the Ares makes his job a lot for tenuous when wars breakout and his occasional sneaking around the underworld to bother the other chthonic gods.
-He may rule over the underworld, but he's not THEE ruler. He's sort of the equivalent to a king in comparison to Nyx, who is more of an empress. By extension, the ruling regions of the underworld organized rather similarly to a medieval monarchy. Thus creating what the Christians assume is how hell looks and functions like in The Discoverie of Witchcraft, The Book of Spirits, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, The Lesser Key of Solomon, and Dictionnaire Infernal. Surprisingly, Tartarus actually has nothing to do with anything that the book has to offer.
- The Elysian Fields were created for two very interesting reasons, it was a gift to Persephone for her to feel more comfortable in the underworld and a safe place for those who didn't fit in purgatory or the deeper part of Tartarus. In fact Persephone rules over the fields while Hades rules over the rest.
-When he was first given Cerberus as a pup, Cerberus was dark grey covered in little black spots. As he grew older, Cerberus's fur became darker to a solid black. Ironically, Hades believed Cerberus was going to be spotted throughout his life.
-He unfortunately has no offspring of his own, but he and Persephone isn't above adopting either. Much like Hestia, Hades has a surprising amount of apprentices, apostles and proteges that all are adopted lost souls. Many of them ranging in different ages and such. Charon kept mentioning there had been a small gathering of child wraiths at the banks of the Styx. Apparently many of them being abandoned children who's parents never gave Obolus Obviously, Hades had to make an exception, obviously he wasn't going to let orphaned children fend for themselves in the banks of Styx, so....he now has many wonderful and rambunctious ghost children simply living out there time.
-He's literally the richest god. He didn't expect to accidentally inherit the Earth's worth in wealth. Apparently, there's an on going joke that Gaia gave this wealth to Hades as a form of revenge against Zeus and Poseidon. That....and Gaia actually likes Hades more.
-Zeus and Poseidon were, are and forever regretful that Hades rules the underworld basically hoarding wealth like some posh dragon. Ironically, Hades has 0 idea that he actually owns any of the wealth, that's right, he literally doesn't know anything about the precious metals, gems and such. He assumes his wealth comes from the sheer real estate and number of souls collects. If you ever found out about his incredible amount of monetary control, he probably wouldn't have any idea what to do with it.
-Hades has a professional relationship with Nyx, however, Nyx has decided he's an "adopted neighbor husband". She's extremely affectionate to him as if she was married to him. Hades however, is a dedicated husband and tries him best to make it clear that they're friendly neighbors and not by any means lovers. She doesn't care and still treats him as such. He doesn't know why but all he knows is that she is a powerful, primordial super goddess who lives in the underworld with him. Another ex-lover of Hades was Minthe, who in truth barley added anything for Hades in terms of a meaningful relationship, it was mostly just a lover's affair. After some time, Hades figured that his time was better spent working. After he married Persephone, Minthe attempted to take her revenge by trying seduce Hades back.....let's just say Persephone left her a little green.
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mars-writes-1999 · 3 years
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Penumbra Podcast fan Theory
I have a theory about how this season is going to end and where the Junoverse is headed. None of this is certain, it’s all just theory. This isn’t about Nureyev’s debts though, I have genuinely no idea what’s going on with that boi but he worries me lots. I love him, and can’t figure him out. This is about the other class X radical. 
SPOILERS FOR JUNO STEEL AND WHAT LIES BEYOND PART 2
tl;dr  Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal. The Ruby 7 is a sentient ai. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical.
1. Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7.
There was a line from Jet that stuck out to me right away in What Lies Beyond part 2. At the very beginning of his interrogation jet says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want." He also later says "There is nothing on this ship that they want. That is final". I do put more stock in the first than the second quote because by the second one he is playing along with Juno's plan and intentionally being angry. I have looked through the scripts and I don't think we're ever told where Jet is being held (lmk if I'm wrong) but for my theory to work he is somewhere with a window and/or he saw things before being put in a "cell" at all.
Jet is a straightforward guy and went into that interrogation with a plan. He had time to think about what he wanted to say to Juno and what he said was "I do not think. I know." I take this to mean she really does know. He knows that Ransom, who dark matters is looking for, is not on the ship. He knows that the Ruby 7, who he believes dark matters is looking for (I'll get to this later), is not on the ship. 
While my Ruby 7 theory is a bit more of a long shot, I REALLY think Jet saw Ransom escape. He says in no uncertain terms that he KNOWS that there isn’t anything that Dark Matters is looking for. Even if we make an assumption that Jet thinks they’re only looking for one 
2. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal
So I’ve thought this might be true since my second listen through the episode. It was a bit of a wild guess at first, but the more I think about it the more I buckle down on it. It lines up in a lot of ways where nothing else I can think of does. This whole argument does assume that Sasha and Dark Matters didn’t just fabricate the distress signal, but given her distaste for agent G (god rest her soul), I think the signal was real. 
When trying to decide who could have sent the signal we can immediately rule out literally every person in the carte blanche family. Buddy and Juno do a good job of explaining to us why each one of them couldn’t be it. 
Buddy was dying (plus we have the added bonus of her monologue and knowing what she was doing)
Juno, Vespa, and Ransom were in sight of each other and in the way of EMP waves
Rita’s comms were knocked out by the EMP waves
Jet was fixing the Ruby 7 and was right next to the EMP waves. He was also pretty busy trying to keep buddy from allowing herself to be killed
All of these things considered, we can also just assume that no one on this ship would rat them out. The only possible defection is Ransom, but despite not knowing what his motives are, I don’t think he ratted them out to Dark Matters. 
The only thing with the sentience to call out would be the Ruby (I’ll provide evidence for its sentience in a moment). I don’t know why it would reach out to Dark Matters specifically, but maybe it was just reaching out to anyone with a distress call. I don’t know how space distress calls work, but Sasha did need to specify that the call didn’t come from the Carte Blanche which means vehicles may have the power to send out a distress call. 
We know from Sasha and Juno’s conversation that the distress call was sent out 4 times in 2 hours. In the episode we see 3 major EMP blasts: The one between episodes, the one when Vespa and Ransom start arguing and Buddy can’t communicate, and the one Buddy barely avoids by getting into the safe room. It isn’t unreasonable to presume there was a 4th EMP wave that occurred after Buddy was safe and sound but before the entire team made it back safely. 4 distress signals for 4 emp waves. If the Ruby 7 is the one sending these, then this math makes sense.
In The Heart of it all Part 2 Jet says to Buddy “Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment - though it is still bitter about its engines.” This means the Ruby may have been scared about its engines dying and therefore it sent out a distress signal. 
None of this is provable at this point, but I also haven’t found any evidence to the contrary. If nothing following this is true, I still think this may be true. 
3. The Ruby 7 is a sentient AI
It is at this point that I would like to acknowledge that I am using it/its as pronouns for the Ruby 7. This is how the car has been referred to in the show up until this point and so it is how I will be referring to it from here on out. If any of this pans out and the Ruby 7 uses different pronouns or signifiers in future episodes I will refer to it differently. 
Before I give the reasons I think the Ruby 7 itself is sentient, I want to talk about why I think it’s plausible that Kevin and Sophie would take the story in this direction. The reason is pretty simple, they’ve told us they’d be willing to. Here is a clip of Kevin and Sophie in the Season 1 Q&A. 
 [audio file]
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cOXj3ybVkszLdt8U8BiRrVW3Cy7O_oGl/view?usp=sharing
[google doc transcript of audio file]
https://docs.google.com/document/d/16EP7CP6Wxic3q7-QhPce1dinan5A0ACNDdxZ4DfaEtA/edit?usp=sharing 
So not only does this clip make it clear that Kevin has wanted robots in some form from the start, it shows that Sophie is open to the idea. We also hear them talk about how big of a deal it would be to introduce elements like this into the story. I would consider all of this setup as treating the concept of AI with the respect and time it deserves. We also know how much Kevin loves the Ruby 7 so making the car a main character would absolutely be within the realm of possibilities. The Ruby 7 is arguably the 7th member of their crew with or without sentience. 
Now to discuss the proof of the sentience of the Ruby 7. There’s a lot of evidence for this. The car has always been sassy and had a personality, but there are several moments that point to more than this. 
In the very beginning of part 1 of Tools of Rust, we see Jet directly mull over the sentience of the Ruby 7. 
The Ruby 7’s many background calculations make it more like a horse. It can be controlled, but only insofar as it wants to be controlled. (HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND SNORTS, DISMISSING HIMSELF) “Wants to.” This car can make you believe in ghosts, too — a spirit in the machine. But the Ruby 7, whatever the force of its calculations, cannot want and cannot think; it can only behave like it does. ~from Tools of Rust Script released to 10$ Patreon supporters
This gives some of the base backgrounds into how Jet thinks about the car he is closest to. In this episode he refers to the ruby as “a wild horse, I must break it in.” The catalyst for this episode occurs while Jet is breaking down the tractor shield generator because when driving the Ruby 7 “Manuevers have not responded as they should.” There are of course reasons for these things that are not sentience. Jet himself does not think the car is sentient at the beginning of this episode. We also know that his view of the car is changing throughout his arc of this season. In its most recent appearance, we see the Ruby at its most sentient. Two distinct moments come to mind in regards to this. 
First, in part one as they are discussing their plan after Rita deploys the Book: 
JET:  We will be on our own — even the Ruby 7 will temporarily shut down. RUBY 7: (PETTY/ANNOYED BEEPS) BUDDY: … Come again? JET: The Ruby insists that it will not shut down. It is incorrect. RUBY 7: (REALLY ANNOYED BEEPS) JET: The Ruby says that I should not tell it what it can and cannot do. VESPA: Really built some sass into that thing, huh? NUREYEV: Is it just me, or… have responses like this become more common from our mysterious vehicle? VESPA: I swear its voice changed, too. BUDDY: Then we’ll allow the car its moody teenage years, I think; after all this is over I’ll buy it an industrial supply of eyeliner and posters of sad young men. ~ From The Heart of it All part 1 script released to 10$ Patreon supporters
Here several characters are remarking upon the increasing sentience of the Ruby 7. In part 2 of this episode, we see further evidence that the crew, especially Jet, has noticed changes in the Ruby which make it seem more and more sentient. 
BUDDY: Singing and theoretical mathematics? Is there anything that car can't do? JET: Increasingly I worry that there is not. Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment — though it is still bitter about its engines. (HE ACTUALLY IS WORRIED ABOUT WHAT THE HELL THE RUBY 7 IS, BUT NOW ISN’T THE TIME FOR THAT) But in this moment I am far more worried by.... ~ From Heart of it All part 2 script for 10$ Patreon Supporters
Here it is clear that not only does Jet sound concerned about the Ruby 7, but Kevin’s direction shows that Jet is genuinely unsure of the Ruby. Not just that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is doing, but that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is. 
Now that I’ve shown all of the evidence I have I’m going to extrapolate some of this to draw a line from this evidence to my theory in part 1. 
Jet knows something is up with the Ruby 7. He has seen Nureyev leave the carte blanche in the Ruby 7 and therefore knows the car is not on the ship. As the delivery notes say “now isn’t the time for that”. What does Jet have while in his “cell” but time? He spends part of his imprisonment sitting and thinking about the Ruby 7. He knows that Dark Matters could have easily found the cure mother prime so he assumes there is something else they are looking for. He realizes that his car is sentient. He realizes that they are looking for 2 main things, Ransom and the Ruby 7. He saw both of these leave. He says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want."
For this to work, the Ruby 7 needs to be classified as a Class X radical, this is a tall order, but I think the Ruby 7 meets the criteria. 
 4. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical
1st of all, look at that green car? That car is SO rad. 
Jokes aside, there are 2 main criteria I’m using to determine that the Ruby 7 could be the class X radical Dark Matters is looking for. First, is it literally possible that this is what Dark Matters is looking for? Does it fit any descriptors Director Wire gives us during her interview with Juno? Second, does it fit the definition of a class X radical? 
In answer to the first question, we consider what Dark Matters is searching for. We know that they know it’s class X, but not much else. In fact, Sasha suggests that Juno may know more than her about the radical because he’s been living with it. This gives the impression that they might not really know what they’re looking for. My theory here is they know that they are looking for a sentient robot, but they don’t know it’s a car. This explains why they know what they need to about its threats but not much else. It may also explain why some of the agents were looking in drawers. If they were not looking for Nureyev (cause like Buddy said, they should know he’s not inches tall) then perhaps they were looking for a sentient robot. Unless I’m misremembering something, I think this is all we really get in terms of information on what the second radical is. Sasha doesn’t give Juno much information despite giving him everything she can about the cure mother prime.
In answer to the second question, we look toward the definition Sasha gives Juno for a radical: “any person or object with the potential to cause significant change to civilized human life as we know it”. AI with sentience fits this definition. Even if you don’t think it does, the piece from the season 1 Q&A shows that Sophie thinks it does. They talk about the care that would need to be in place in order to introduce robots, ai, or aliens. Care is needed because any one of these three things would drastically change the galaxy as they know it. 
 I don’t really have any clever way to end this other than saying all of this could be wrong. I could be completely off and there are probably other explanations for everything I’ve described, but I actually feel pretty confident on this. It started off as a random thought and the more I’ve sat on it the more evidence I’ve collected. Whether this comes to fruition or not I hope you enjoyed reading my theory! 
CC: 
@thepenumbrapodcast 
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esperwatchesfilms · 3 years
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Dead Poets Society (1989)
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John Keating: O Captain, my Captain. Who knows where that comes from? Anybody? Not a clue? It's from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now, in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating or, if you're slightly more daring, O Captain, my Captain.
John Keating: I was the intellectual equivalent of a 98-pound weakling. I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face.
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The above gif is misquoting a bit here. It annoys me, so I’m providing the proper quote:
John Keating: Because we are food for worms, lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die.
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[after hearing "The Introduction to Poetry"] John Keating: Excrement! That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. We're not laying pipe! We're talking about poetry. How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? "I like Byron, I give him a 42 but I can't dance to it!"
John Keating: This is a battle, a war, and the casualties could be your hearts and souls.
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John Keating: We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering; these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life.
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John Keating: Beauty. Romance. Love. These are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish ... What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here -- that life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.” That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
McAllister: "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I'll show you a happy man." John Keating: "But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be." McAllister: Tennyson? John Keating: No. Keating.
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John Keating: Language was developed for one endeavor, and that is... Mr. Anderson? Come on, are you a man or an amoeba? [Todd stays silent] John Keating: Mr. Perry? Neil Perry: To communicate. John Keating: No! To woo women!
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Todd Anderson: YAWP! John Keating:  There it is! You see, you have a barbarian in you after all! Now, you don’t get away that easy. There’s a picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don’t think, answer. Go on. Todd Anderson:  A m-m-m-madman. John Keating: What kind of madman? Don’t think about it! Just answer again. Todd Anderson: A cr-crazy madman. John Keating: No, you can do better than that. Free up your mind. Use your imagination! Say the first thing that pops into your head, even if it’s total gibberish. Go on, go on! Todd Anderson:  A-a-a sweaty-toothed madman. John Keating: Good God, boy, there’s a poet in you after all! There. Close your eyes. Close your eyes! Close 'em! Now, describe what you see.
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Todd Anderson: Uh, I-I close my eyes. John Keating: Yes. Todd Anderson: Uh, and this image floats beside me. John Keating: A sweaty-toothed madman. Todd Anderson: A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain. John Keating: Oh, that's excellent! Now, give him action; make him do something! Todd Anderson: H-His hands reach out and choke me. John Keating: That's it! Wonderful, wonderful! Todd Anderson: And all the time he's mumbling. John Keating: What's he mumbling? Todd Anderson: Mumbling truth. John Keating: Yeah, yes. Todd Anderson: Truth like-like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. John Keating: [some of the class start to laugh; Todd opens his eyes, Keating blocks them to get him to close them again] Forget them! Forget them! Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket! Todd Anderson: Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying t-to the moment we leave dying, it'll just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream. [Todd opens his eyes, there’s a long pause, then the class applauds] John Keating: Don't you forget this.
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John Keating:  Even though others may think them odd or unpopular; even though the herd may go, [imitating a goat] John Keating: "That's ba-a-a-a-ad." Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in the wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."
Neil Perry: [finds Todd sitting alone on the roof] Hey! Todd Anderson: Hey. Neil Perry: What's going on? Todd Anderson: Nothin'. Today's my birthday. Neil Perry: Is today your birthday? Happy birthday! Todd Anderson: Thanks. Neil Perry: What'd you get? Todd Anderson: [indicating the desk set lying beside him] My parents gave me this. Neil Perry: Isn't this the same desk set... Todd Anderson: Yeah. Yeah, they gave me the same thing as last year. Neil Perry: Oh. Todd Anderson: Oh. Neil Perry: [laughing] Maybe they thought you needed another one. Todd Anderson: [laughing] Maybe they weren't thinking about anything at all. The funny thing about this is, I-I didn't even like it the first time. Neil Perry: Todd, I think you're underestimating the value of this desk set. [picks it up] Neil Perry: I mean, who would want a football or a baseball or... Todd Anderson: Or a car. Neil Perry: Or a car, if they could have a desk set as wonderful as this one? I mean, if-if I were ever going to buy a desk set twice -- [both boys chuckle] Neil Perry: -- I would probably buy this one. Both times! In fact, its shape is... it's rather aerodynamic, isn't it? [walks to the edge of the roof] Neil Perry: You can feel it. This desk set wants to fly! [hands it to Todd] Neil Perry: Todd? The world's first unmanned flying desk set. [Todd throws it off the roof, giving a yell (or a yawp!) - papers fly everywhere and things crash and clatter to the ground while the boys laugh] Neil Perry: Oh my! Well, I wouldn't worry. You'll get another one next year.
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Charlie Dalton: [answering disconnected phone] Welton Academy, hello. Yes, he is. Just a moment. Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It's God. 
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John Keating: There's a time for daring and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for.
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John Keating: Phone call from God. If it had been collect, that would have been daring.
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The above is also not what is said in the film. “Tell me what you feel!” is the actual line.
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*didn’t put us *up* to anything - these gifs misquoting are killing me.
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ESE: 120/100
50 +5 for young Ethan Hawke +10 for Robin Williams +4 for the alternative four pillars: Travesty. Horror. Decadence. Excrement. +5 for Kurtwood Smith -10 for Neil’s father, Mr. Perry +5 for Keating walking straight out of the classroom on day 1 +5 for Carpe Diem +5 for Keating instructing the boys to rip the shitty introduction to poetry out of the book +2 for Keating’s whistling -5 for Cameron being a little wussy boy +2 for “rude squeak” +2 for sneaking out to read poetry +10 for the centerfold with poem written on the back +10 for the Congo creeping through the black, cutting through the forest with the golden track -10 for calling Todd out in front of the class +5 for the bed chase that finally gets Todd involved +5 for Neil getting the part of Puck in Midsummer Night’s Dream -10 for students like Hopkins +15 for Keating helping Todd to find his voice +5 for saxophone -10 for the same desk set -5 for bringing the two girls to the DPS meeting -5 for kissing the forehead of a girl you barely know while she’s asleep -10 for the over-reaction of Chet -10 for corporal punishment +10 for “Nuwanda” not breaking -10 for Neil’s super-unreasonable father +15 for Keating’s advice to Neil -5 for Knox’s persistence -5 for Neil lying to Keating about talking to his father +10 for Neil’s performance as Puck +5 for the amount of praise Neil receives for his performance +10 for Keating’s concern -10 for suicide aftermath -15 for Cameron being a fucking fink +20 for Nuwanda (Charlie) punching Cameron in his stupid face -10 for the school using Keating as a scapegoat +20 for Todd’s show of appreciation and those who joined in solidarity on their desks +10 for Hopkins joining and standing on his desk, too
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dahlia-coccinea · 3 years
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A few thoughts on Rachel Ablow’s essay: she perfectly frames that while Cathy does have sway over others, she lacks a true autonomous power within society, outside of her ability to make a socially advantageous marriage. She doesn’t have the opportunity Heathcliff has to go and make her fortune, nor can she inherit and be given political power like Edgar. She can only peripherally have this power through her marriage and to what the time period termed “female influence”. To contextualize “female influence,” it’s the idea that women held such influence on men that it was equivalent to actual civil rights (???). Ablow quotes author Thomas Henry Lister (1800-1842) who was against female liberation and said of “female influence”, "the question is not whether direct influence shall be substituted for the indirect, but whether it shall be superadded.” This is something I’ve seen in other writings around this time period (and unfortunately I’ve heard echoed to this day). 
So, Ablow makes clear how Catherine is excluded from true authority and political clout of any kind - and yet sides with the “Cathy only loves those who obey her” narrative, saying:
"Catherine has no real power, after all; what she saw as power, her supposed slaves appear to have seen as nothing more than requests they might or might not choose to fulfill. And at the moment when Catherine recognizes this fact, she is forced, too, to recognize her insanity.”
(Side note: calling Heathcliff and Edgar her “slaves” bothers the heck out me). She expands on this later saying:
"Catherine's madness thus reveals the double bind the married woman faces, having to choose between being delusional (believing she has power when she does not) or being insane (experiencing and recognizing the truth of her subjection).
Therefore it is not: “...the product of her recognition of her mistake in marrying Edgar (Raymond Williams), her inability to separate herself from Heathcliff (Philip Wion), her attempts to starve herself to heath (Susan Gorsky, Michelle Masse), or her dread of the coming birth of her child (Margaret Homans).”
I can’t agree with this because Catherine’s lack of power is something she recognizes and Abow’s argument paints her unnecessarily as a narcissist like so many others do...Literally, sentences ago Ablow points out how Catherine is aware of her position and that is what makes her marriage to Edgar inevitable in her mind. Yes, she declares: “I have such faith in Linton’s love, that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn’t wish to retaliate.” But that doesn’t negate her understanding that she toes the line with welcoming Heathcliff (and simply hurting Edgar unfairly) when Nelly says she “deemed it judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him.” 
Ablow also picks the quotation of Cathy speaking to Isabella about her relationship with Heathcliff: “I never say to him, 'Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;' I say, 'Let them alone, because I should hate them to be wronged,” to say that shows her faith in her ability to command those around her - but ignores the later on in that same conversation: “I’m his friend—so much so, that had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap.” Catherine’s relationship is not so one-sided. I don’t see why we should doubt her words here as she does care for Isabella and Isabella does (except for during her obsession with Heathcliff) love Catherine. 
Also, this shifts any blame from the other characters onto Catherine for no reason. Edgar IS wrong for blaming Isabella’s immature actions on Catherine. Heathcliff IS wrong to pursue Isabella with the intent to hurt her and Edgar. Isabella IS wrong to fetishize Heathcliff and be uncivil towards Catherine.
I would say that her ensuing madness is (among other things) brought about by Edgar casting Heathcliff out. That is at least the catalyst. I believe it is twice she mentions the desire to break both of their hearts - right after the argument she says “I’ll try to break their hearts by breaking my own.” and then again on her deathbed to Heathcliff she references this saying: “You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff!” But her focus is definitely on revenge against Edgar. She repeatedly states sentiments like: “If I were only sure it would kill him,” she interrupted, “I’d kill myself directly.” and she does reject him (although he seems to ignore it and just blame it on her mental instability) when she says: “What you touch at present you may have; but my soul will be on that hill top before you lay hands on me again. I don’t want you, Edgar: I’m past wanting you.” This is a stark contrast from her feeling towards Heathcliff, who even though he disobeyed her she says: “But, Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I’ll keep you. I’ll not lie there by myself: they may bury me twelve feet deep, and throw the church down over me, but I won’t rest till you are with me. I never will!” Her acceptance of him even after he is a “brute” towards her is another bit of evidence that her love isn’t based solely on obedience...
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