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#i am rather dependant on our friendship
screamingfroggies · 1 year
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I sent a risky text to my friend. It's been like, 45 minutes, and no reply. I'm terrified the silence is because she's upset now and I just destroyed our friendship.
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satoru-is-the-way · 5 months
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HELLO. i see you're one of the only people who writes for jinshi on this site :') could i request a jinshi x fem or gn reader who is like his personal handmaiden, but also close friends with him ?? just an idea 🤡
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A/N: OMG YESS JINSHI!! I love this man!! Your wish is my command !! Always request this man lmao. I am willing to do anything haha.
Pairing: Jinshi x gn reader
Prompt: Could I request a jinshi x fem or gn reader who is like his personal handmaiden, but also close friends with him ?? just an idea 🤡. 
Warning: None
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You have been friends with Jinish for a few years now. Despite his over-flirtatious behavior, you managed to push it aside not falling for his seductive technique. Perhaps that is a reason why he took an interest in you. Men and Women both would fawn over Jinshi's every word and are easily seduced by his beauty. There is no denying just how perfect Jinshin is, with exotic eyes, hair, and tongue like silver able to seduce just about anyone
He took a liking to you because you denied any advances. The behavior was intriguing so he had to find out more about you. Once the young male set his eyes on you it was not long before you were promoted to his personal maid. What other young men and women would do to have such a job. You did simple tasks for Jinish, cooking, cleaning, preparing his list of duties, and dressed him accordingly. At times the job was difficult with his endless flirtation, but deep inside, you could catch a glimpse of the act Jinish played. All the drunk nights he would embrace you and cry. This friendship was like none other you have ever experienced. He was not the only one to show a soft side. Jinshi became the man you depended on.
Right now you and Jinshi were in the carriage heading back to his estate in the Outer Court. You both attended the garden party and spoke to many officials. It became apparent that Jinshi was frustrated. His purple eyes narrow at you, his right leg bouncing, as his other hand taps his leg. He then glanced away pouting heavily. A profound sigh left your lips knowing by his complexion Jinshi yearned for you to ask why he was bitter at you.
"Master Jinshi, have I done something to upset you?" You asked rather curiously. He shot you a look those violet eyes shimmering with...jealousy?
"As if you do not know the severity of your betrayal." Jinshi put a hand on his forehead dramatically. This only made you furious. He was your best friend yet Jinshi accused you of betrayal?!
"What are you talking about?! I have done nothing that would have been deemed as betraying you!" You meet his voice with equal if not more aggravation.
"Then why do you have Lihaku's hairpin? I bestowed you mine!" Jinshi reached forward and snatched the hairpin of another mans. You sat there starting at your friend who is like a child over a hairpin. "Do you know what this means?!" He asked and snarled at the hairpin. "Do you think him better than I?"
You chuckled which only riled Jinshi up more. "Why on earth- Look I was not going to deny him. I got more than just his. I know what it means. I am not that stupid Jinshi! So before you get jealous and accuse me of stuff, reevaluate our situation. I have been loyal to you since I became your personal maid. You are my best friend. Why would I ever ruin that?"
Jinshi looked at your eyes shimmer which threaten tears. "(Y/n), I am sorry I-" However the young male couldn't get another word out as the carriage came to a stop and you got up leaving. "(Y/n) Stop! Please! Stop walking." Jinshi pleaded following you desperately no matter his begging you would not stop. Jinshi had to restore to desperate measures. "I order you to stop!" He yelled breathing heavily. That's when you stopped being unable to disobey a direct order.
"I did not mean... please forgive me. I just had the idea of losing my best friend. I couldn't bear to think... You with another man...being so close to another man...You are everything to me." Jinshi turns you around. That look he gave you could make anyone fall to their knees. For the first time you couldn't think. Jinshi blush a rose tent. Those beautiful plump lips quiver begging you not to leave. God he knew how to beg. "Forgive me." He whispers.
"You should know my loyalty is with you. No matter the hairpins I collect or who is calling for me. Master Jinshi I am with you. My one and only friend. I couldn't throw away that" You assured him. The next response you did not expect. Jinshi leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. That's when you knew this friendship was so much more.
"I love you." Jinshi whispers.
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ughgoaway · 9 months
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playing on my mind
content warnings: swearing, referring to Matty as tall (look we all lie for plot purposes okay), dilf Matty and rushed writing... i think that's it? word count- 3.3k ish
a/n: woah this was quick but I am nothing if not impulsive!! this is just a one-shot but if y'all want a series I might do one?? idk it depends on how inspired I am lol. but yes this is just my little blurb-thing from yesterday fleshed out into an actual story!! I'm so glad people liked the idea, I hope this doesn't disappoint <333
(I didn't proofread this so I apologise if its utterly shit </3)
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“And off you go! If you need your pencils sharpened or help, make sure you raise your hand! I’ll come to see you!” You say to the group of 30 little balls of energy in front of you. 60 eyes looking up at you might seem intimidating to most, but when it's a hyperactive group of 5-year-olds; the fear wears off slightly.
It was family tree week in your classroom, and you had given your little ones the usual task of drawing their family, each set up with pieces of paper and various pencils and pens to create their masterpieces. Seeing them smile and talk about their older sisters and brothers or how much they love their parents always warmed your heart. 
You originally got into teaching with every intention of working with teenagers. You were sure you shouldn't be moulding such young minds - you were never sure your mind was a very good example. But one test week in a year 1 classroom changed your outlook entirely. Seeing the pure, unadulterated joy on a young child's face was something beyond comparison. 
Getting to watch them grow and develop into little people brought you so much happiness that it could never compare to standing in front of a group of grumpy teenagers. Each teen boy clearly trying to get you over to their desk to “flirt” with you, well as much firting as a 15-year-old boy can do.
Seeing a child come out of their shell, make friendships, and discover their passions made your heart warm in a way nothing else did. So as soon as you qualified you jumped at the opportunity to teach these little ones, this class might be your first but you are sure it will always be your favourite.
And of course, despite what every teacher tells you, they have a favourite student. You were adamant when you began that you really wouldn't have a favourite but then little Annie Healy came bounding into your classroom with a mop of curly hair, untamable energy and the cutest slightly wonky smile you've ever seen. 
She very quickly stole your heart, always wanting to tell you stories and going off on tangents rather quickly, organising tea parties but soon getting distracted leaving you at a small table surrounded by teddy bears giving a toast. Her little body seemed to be filled with enough energy to power the world 3 times over, and you couldn't love her anymore. The idea that she would be leaving your class broke your heart every time you thought about it, despite people telling you not to get attached - you did,
You had just settled at your desk after explaining for the 4th time to Zach that sticking pencils up our noses isn't a very good idea. You ended up telling him if he pushed too far, he'd touch his brain, and soon after that, the pencils stayed firmly in his hand rather than up any nose. If any student was the problem child, it was him. You couldn't hate any student, but let's just say he's given you one too many impromptu haircuts this year to be in line for your favourite.
Soon your real favourite student stuck her arm into the air and wiggled it around in an attempt to get you to see her sooner, little Annie Healy was ever impatient- a trait that is only endearing on her. You quickly nodded and started wandering over, trying not to laugh at her large toothy grin back at you.
“Hi sweetheart, do you need some help?” you say, crouching down to her eye level, flashing a sweet smile.
“Hi miss y/n!” she began, her eyes flittering around your face before landing on your hair, and soon, her hands were stroking your head.
“Wow! I like your hair! It's got sparkly clips in it! You know I asked my daddy for some like that, and he said-” you gently placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to stop the tangent before it started. You knew she'd somehow end up keeping you there for 20 minutes, giving you a detailed list of all of her Barbie dolls and their jobs if you didn't redirect her quickly enough.
“Thank you, Annie! I saw your arm wiggling in the air earlier. Did you need some help?” her eyes light up as she remembered why she called you over here.
“Oh! Yeah, I want to write what's in my daddy’s hands, but I don't know how to spell it. Will you help me?” she says, bringing her attention back to her drawing and grabbing the black pencil to continue her work. It's the first time you actually looked at her drawing, and to say you were concerned would be an understatement.
Most drawings of family consist of the same basic elements; a mum, a dad, a sun in the corner, and a house that is wildly disproportionate to everything else.
So imagine your surprise when you look down to see 4 men in what seems to be leather jackets, holding various musical instruments, and a very tall dog next to them.
You blink a few times. Just checking what you're seeing is right. The lineup starts with a tall man holding a guitar, next to a slightly shorter man also holding a guitar with a mess of black scribbles on his head. Next up is a very tall man with drumsticks in his hands and a kit behind him, and finally another very tall man with a beard and a bass. The concern briefly melts away as you consider how impressive it is she knows the difference. In the bottom left corner is a black dog with very long legs and a big pink tongue sticking out, the dog was almost as tall as the first man but you're aware kids aren’t known for their skill with proportion.
No one had prepared you for this in teaching school, there was never a lecture about what to do if one of your kids does a mildly troubling family drawing of 4 men in leather jackets and a horse dog. You try to stutter a response to Annie, but no real words are leaving your mouth. Just a jumble of sounds, each one sounding more confused and stressed than the last.
You flash a look at her only to be met with a confused head tilt and sad eyes. Oh god. She thought you hated her drawing. Shit.
Time for damage control.
You make the decision then and there not to ask her about the details of her drawing, desperately trying not to make her cry. 
Maybe you could go and see her mum in the playground? Yes, that's what you'll do. You'll walk her out, have a brief discussion with Mum, and make sure Annie knows her family isn't 4 men in a band and then leave her be. That sounds like the professional thing to do.
You take a deep breath and smile at Annie, and soon her downturned lips flashed that cheesy grin you knew so well. You tighten your hand on her shoulder and grab a pen, ready to help her any way she needs. 
“Do you mean the word ‘guitar’ Annie?” she gives you an excited nod as you continue speaking, “Ah yes, that's a really hard word for even grown-ups to spell. Let's work it out together, hmm?”
With your mind racing you help her sound it out and label her drawing, even stopping to sharpen her black colouring pencil for her- there's a lot of black for young girls drawing but she's committed to an aesthetic, and part of you respects that.
On the walk back to the desk, you begin practising your speech in your head, trying to figure out how to ask why she’s drawing a band as her family without unknowingly offending mum. Maybe she just really likes music?
You run through your memories trying to think of her mentioning a band before, but nothing comes to mind, Annie doesn't even stay on track long enough to talk about her family. Always seeing something shiny and discussing that instead. 
You flick your eyes to her one more time just to see her animatedly talking with another little girl on her table, her hands gesticulating wildly and her curls bouncing as she tells her story.
The sight calms you slightly, seeing the little girl you know so well acting exactly as she should be. You have the fleeting thought that you might be overreacting, but eventually, you collect the drawings to see Annie had dated her work “1975”. Yup, that discussion with her parents was definitely happening.
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The bell rings, and you manage to catch Annie just before she runs off into the playground without you, “Hi Annie! I have your drawing from today. Should we show it to mummy and daddy together?” her eyes light up as her curls bounce from her excited nods. 
You walk hand in hand out onto the playground, crouching down you make eye contact with Annie before asking, “Can you point out your mum or dad Annie?”
She nods and begins scanning the playground. You stifle a laugh at the look of concentration on the young girl's face. Her nose is scrunched along with her eyebrows, one hand pulling at a curl by her ear and the other holding yours. Soon, you see her face brighten, and her eyes fill with joy. 
“DADDY!!” is the scream that comes from the little girl as her hand shoots from her head to point to the corner of the playground, she starts dragging you before you even look up but as you do, you feel your heart drop.
As a student teacher, you'd definitely seen some hot dads, but they were still dads. Most were slightly creepy, partially balding, and talked about nothing but golf and their “annoying” wives. You were used to that kind of dad, not exactly this kind.
Standing nonchalantly in the corner of the playground was a tall man. A pile of salt and pepper curls sat on top of his head; untamed but effortlessly and obnoxiously cool. The white t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide the patchwork of tattoos that snaked up his arms. The low neck of the top even teased the top of his chest tattoo. Sunglasses sat on his face, they gave him an "I'm too cool" rocker vibe that, for some unknown reason, made you dizzy.
In one hand, he had a lit cigarette, something that was not allowed on school property, but the way his cheeks hollowed as he took a drag had you forgetting that rule completely. He dropped the butt of the cigarette to crush it with his heavy boots before taking a sip of the can of coke that was in his other hand. 
As he noticed you coming over, a dazzling smile broke out on his face. You felt your knees weaken as you tried to brush off how hot he was. 
You then realised you actually had to speak to this man. Fuck. You're not sure you even have a voice currently. If you opened your mouth, you're sure incoherent noises would come out, followed by wild hand motions trying to explain your insane behaviour.
The closer you got, the less you stared at him, feeling too intimidated to keep looking in his direction. This did mean you almost tripped 3 times, but you would rather fall than risk making eye contact with this intimidatingly attractive man.
Annie dropped your hand as you finally reached the man, and she jumped into his arms. He grunted at the force but soon began pressing kisses all over her face, smiling at her uncontrollable giggles.
Quickly, the man noticed your presence and stuck a hand out to introduce himself, “Hi! Sorry about that, you know what it's like when kids miss you. I’m Annie’s dad, Matty.” 
And this is where a normal person would introduce themselves, stick their hand out, and shake Matty’s. Maybe even say their name and start talking, but oh no. Not you. You stood there motionless and just said “Matty” breathlessly to yourself 3 times over.
Time dragged on in the 10 seconds Matty stood there with his hand out. If you weren't aware of how time worked, you would swear you stood there in stilted silence for 10 minutes. 
By some grace of god, little Annie Healy saved you and introduced you, “Daddy. This is Miss y/n. She wanted to come and show you my drawing." 
Matty retracted his hand and pushed the sunglasses that sat on the bridge of his nose up to his mess of curls, just as wayward as his daughters. His deep brown eyes met yours as he tilted his head questioningly at your behaviour. His smile remained wide at you, his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and you felt your heart stutter. A litany of inappropriate thoughts swirling through your mind.
He quickly diverted his attention back to his daughter, “Oh really munchkin? Is your drawing just that amazing? Is Miss y/n going to send it to all the museums?” he said whilst tickling her sides. You smiled at the pair of them watching Annie throw her head back with erratic laughter. 
Finally, you manage to right yourself and begin speaking, “Right. Sorry about that, long day,” you explain, looking apologetically at Matty, who only nodded and tried to hide his widening smile at your flustered state. 
“I'm just here to talk about Annie's drawing,” you pause briefly and look at Annie in her dad's arms. Not wanting to disappoint her, you form a plan in your mind. “Hey Annie, why don't you go practise some hopscotch! I'm just going to have a quick chat with your dad, okay?”
Before you’d even finished your sentence, Annie was wiggling out of her dad's arms and running off.
“She's got endless energy that one hasn't she?” you say wistfully, staring off in the direction she ran, watching her jump around and giggle with some of her friends.
“Ah like father like daughter, I suppose” Matty says, grinning at your clear love for his little girl. He feels his heart warm at your caring eyes. “So what seems to be the issue? I'm sure you're not over here because the Louvre has asked for Annie’s drawing?” 
You laugh at Matty's joke, perhaps a little too hard. Nervous laughter was one of your less attractive traits, but you try to shake it off and have an actual adult conversation with Matty. 
“Ah no, no phone calls from Paris yet,” you begin laughing lightly, you pull out Annie's drawing and pass it over to Matty and start to analyse his reaction as you finish speaking, “I was just coming over to ask why Annie's family portrait is seemingly a band? I wanted to make sure she knows her family isn't 4 tall men in leather jackets and a surprisingly tall horse dog.”
As you finish your sentence, Matty bursts out in hysterical laughter, folding over as his chortling laughter takes over his whole body. Your face scrunches up at his reaction, your eyebrows are pinched, and a small frown overtakes your features. 
Eventually, Matty catches his breath and looks up at you only to realise how strange his reaction appears. His hand shoots up to your arm and begins to stroke it lightly as he attempts to explain himself.
Each featherlight stroke of his fingers made your breath hitch. You felt your eyes fogging over, and your ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool, the surrounding sounds suddenly becoming muted.
A shake of your head brought you back to earth as you fought to focus on the words Matty was saying.
“Oh I'm so sorry, once you know the story you’ll understand my reaction” Matty began explaining with wide apologetic eyes, “basically Annie's mum isn't in the picture, it's just me and my 3 best friends,” he said smiling.
You lightly laugh and say, “Ah I'm assuming they are the man with the guitar, the one with the bass and the other with the drumsticks?” You finish with a teasing tilt of your head.
Matty's fingers encircle your wrist as that smile you've quickly grown to love appears on his face once again at your teasing.
“Yes those are the ones. You see we’re all in a band - hence all the instruments. I always tell Annie that Uncle George, Ross, and Adam are our family. So when you asked for a family drawing...”
“She drew her family!” You finish his sentence for him, staring at his hand and holding your wrist as you do. He quickly drops it, and you curse yourself for bringing it to his attention.
You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively in an attempt to hide your mounting embarrassment.
Matty smiles and starts to speak again, only to be interrupted by you, “Wait I understand that, but why did she date it ‘1975’?”
Somehow, Matty's smile grew again, “Our band is called the 1975. Weird, I know, but it comes from me being young and pretentious with a Jack Kerouac book.”
Before you could respond, Annie came bounding over and wrapped herself around her dad's leg, “Dadddd” she complained, pulling out the last letter to announce her annoyance to the world.
“Annieeee” Matty teased back in the same tone as her, picking her up as he did.
“Can we go home now? I want to see mayhem!!” she said, excitedly clapping her hands as she finished.
You shoot Matty a questioning look, and he quickly answers your silent query, “the horse dog” he says teasingly, parroting your earlier words back at you.
“Okay darling, let's get going then,” Matty says with a grunt, putting Annie down, grabbing her hand, and taking her backpack from her.
“Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” he says, smiling sweetly at you, but you can see the mischief brewing in his eyes.
His eyes keep your attention so long you almost miss Annie's sweet goodbye, “bye miss y/n! See you tomorrow! Can we talk about your sparkly clips tomorrow?” she asks with a tilt of her head.
“Of course, little miss Annie!” You say smiling at the young girl. You focus solely on her in an attempt not to get lost in her father's eyes again.
You watch them walk away but after a few steps they pause, Matty turns over his shoulder and waves with his free hand, “Bye miss y/n” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice and a flirty wink.
Before you can even process what just happened, he's strolling away casually, and all the mums in the playground are silently lusting after him.
A heavy breath leaves your chest as you start to watch him leave.
“Isn't he gorgeous” a voice behind you whispers, causing you to jump and let out a small scream. You hold a hand to your chest and look at your colleague with wild eyes.
“Oh my god, Amanda, please do not sneak up on me like that! I'm fragile” you say, now laughing at your ridiculous reaction.
“Sorry, sorry,” she begins giggling, “but isn't he just so hot? Annie was in my class last year, and I used to count down the days until parent’s evening! I mean, who wouldn't want to sit across a desk from a man who looks like that?” Amanda says, wiggling her eyebrows flirtatiously.
She begins to teasingly poke your sides at your awkward silence, and you quickly brush her off and straighten up, “Amanda! You can't talk like that about a parent!” You say, trying and failing to have any conviction in your voice.
“I can when the parent looks like that!” she says, smiling and watching Matty stroll away.
You huff at her behaviour and walk away, desperate to sit down and process what just happened.
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Your desk chair squeaks as you sit down behind your desk. You spin the chair and pick up a pen to begin marking some spelling tests from last week, but before long, you give up.
Staring off into space with endless thoughts poisoning your mind, only one thing can come out of your mouth. 
“fuck."
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okaylorrainee · 1 year
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her way of water
characters. neteyam & female reader. sully family. tsireya.
synopsis. neteyam and his family left their clan to seek uturu from yours. on their first night, neteyam wanders by the shore to clear his mind. he finds himself away from everyone’s marui pods and comes across you as you bathed - he couldn’t get you out of his mind since then.
note. went out to touch grass + visited my grandparents so this chapter was uploaded a bit later than intended hehe. thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! i wasn’t expecting to wake up to 100+ notes today so i am very grateful :)! shoutout to my irls btw. avatar has been our motivation to get through hell week last week lol anyways enjoy reading!
taglist: @rainbowsocks @mashiromochi
Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]
you were a simple member of the metkayina clan. born from warrior parents, you grew up to be a huntress taught by the adults in the clan. as a young na’vi, you would accompany the older members whenever they hunted so you could learn and get better experience. your tasks weren’t limited to hunting, however. you enjoyed helping everyone out. everyday consisted of different activities for you depending on whoever needed help the most. for some days, you would spend your time weaving nets or clothing for the other clan members, and on other days, you would play with the children, teaching them the basics of clan traditions. 
you loved crafting during your free time. the others would find you sitting somewhere creating ornaments or weapons for yourself from leftovers from the animals you’ve hunted. you considered them as a keepsake from your time hunting with the others, every moment was an important memory for you. you were quite the sentimental one.
since hunting took up most of your time, you haven’t had the opportunity to hang out with the na’vi your age. everyone else was busy with their own duties as well, so you understood there wasn’t a chance to get closer.
tsireya was different though. she always found the time to get to know you, and eventually, she became your only close friend. you were probably just one of hers, but it didn’t matter to you, you were content with your friendship.
at the moment, you were in your marui, tying up the last few shells to the new net top you were working on. it was coming out beautifully, just how you envisioned it. you were busy admiring your work when a familiar voice interrupted your silence.
“sister, are you here?” 
you turn around and a smile finds its way to your face, “tsireya, it is nice to see you.” you released your creation, letting it drop to the netting. you stood up and held your hands out; she approached you with a smile, taking your palms.
“i have missed you all day. did you have to be gone all afternoon?” 
you chuckled, “i have enjoyed myself too much out there. you know i would rather enjoy the freedom of the ocean instead of cooping in this small pod.”
tsireya giggles at your statement. her eyes find their way to the net top you were working on. “i see you have made another one. the clothing you make is very lovely as always.”
“thank you, sister. i appreciate that compliment. would you like one as well?”
her face brightened even more. “really? you would make one for me? i would love that.”
you nodded, “of course, anything for my friend.”
she gives you another soft smile before letting you go. “to tell you the truth sister, i did not come to you for this reason.” she said, “i have a favor to ask of you.”
you gave her a curious look as you picked up the top from the netting. “oh? do tell.”
tsireya began walking around your marui, “you know about the forest na’vi from the omatikaya clan who arrived yesterday, and how my brother and i were tasked to teach toruk makto’s children, correct?”
“... yes?” you urged her to continue.
“i know this would only add to your schedule,” she stands firmly and faces you, “but we need your help for their breathing exercise tomorrow.”
you tilted your head in confusion. “why, tsireya? i am sure you are more than enough to help them learn. you are a very great teacher.”
“but you will be better!” she grabbed your arm. “sister, you are the best swimmer among us in our age, and i know even ao’nung would not object to that.”
you hummed in disapproval. “i am not so sure about that…”
“please,” her grip on your arm tightens, “you have to do it. i would like to introduce you to them. the others have not been very nice to them, but you will, right?”
you stared at her for a few seconds, thinking about how you’ll reply to her. but then again, what harm could it bring? you missed the opportunity to see them yesterday after all when everyone crowded around them and blocked your view. tsireya was begging you with her large eyes, how could you refuse your friend?
you sighed, “alright. i will be there tomorrow.”
with a small squeal, she jumped with your arm in her hands. “great! you will enjoy it, i promise!”
tsireya spent a few more minutes in your pod, chatting about each other's day and some other random stuff. when dark came, you’ve decided to stay inside and finish the net top you promised your friend the afternoon earlier.
neteyam had the entire evening to think about his discussion with tsireya and to decide what to do about it. eventually, he came to the conclusion to approach the na’vi he saw that night, and just talk to her. he didn’t know how he’d start and what he’d talk about honestly, but he refused to act like a coward. a mighty warrior such as himself is afraid to talk to a girl? lo’ak would be laughing his ass off if he found out.
and so, that’s what he came back here for. same time, same place. only now, he wasn’t hiding behind a tree. he was waiting out in the open, looking behind himself every now and then to check if the na’vi he was waiting for was approaching.
neteyam had stayed in the same spot for so long, gradually getting impatient. perhaps she had something to do which is why she was late? - is what he’s been telling himself for who knows how long. but his optimism was wavering every passing moment. what if he had only seen her there by coincidence? what if he had lost his opportunity the night before because he ran away when she was leaving the water? what if… she wasn’t real and was only in his mind?
minutes turned to hours, and it would only be a while before the sun rises. neteyam heavily sighs, standing up and brushing off the sand clinging on his skin. a dark expression on his face, he heads back to the village in disappointment.
neteyam went back to sleep after that. what else could he do? it was stupid of him to waste his time over there. hopefully he'll have enough energy to train tomorrow. it would be suspicious of him to not perform well.
when he woke up, his family was feasting on fish for lunch just behind him. they said they couldn’t wake him up as he was in such deep sleep. they didn’t question him, thinking he must’ve been overwhelmed with his training; neteyam didn’t bother to say anything else as he followed to eat.
training with the sullys was fast approaching, and you had just gotten back from hunting with some elders. you were rushing to your marui, a net of fishes in your hand; they will be dinner for you and some other clan members later on.
biting your lip, you ran through nets and nets of pods just to get to yours. you had to drop off these fish first and grab the top you’ve made for tsireya before heading to the training place. you couldn’t afford to be late; you didn’t want to upset your friend.
out of nowhere, a na’vi appears right in your face when you jump to take a turn around the pods. their sudden appearance caused you to lose balance and tumble right on your ass, almost falling into the water. your grip around the net loosened because you had to hold on to something else to support yourself, and this made you release your hunted fishes into the water. 
“ah.” you watched as the net slowly sank towards the seabed. eywa, have mercy. what disrespect to the blessings she gave you.
“i will get it.” before you knew it, the na’vi dived right into the water, and you could only watch as he swam to get your fish.
when he floated to the surface, it was only then did you confirm he was not from awa’atlu. his blue skin, thin arms and tail told you he was one of the sullys, because who else could he be?
you observed him as he placed the fish on the netting next to you before climbing up, his braided hair occasionally covering his face as it swayed all over. as soon as he stood up, he held his hand out to help you get on your feet. you grabbed his hand without a word, taking note of how firm and manly they were as you stared at his dripping wet face. it was difficult not to, but you were definitely eyeing him. 
he was so different from the metkayina men you’ve been used to. is this why tsireya was so drawn to that one sully boy she kept talking about yesterday? you kind of understood now.
“i am sorry about that. are you hurt anywhere?” he asks.
“no. i am fine.” you replied, and you swore you saw his eyes shot up to yours. “thank you for grabbing my fish. you did not have to do that.” his staring was starting to melt you that you looked away. “uhm… i must go now. goodbye.” you didn’t even give him a chance to say anything else, and just went around him to walk away.
you hadn’t noticed how his head spun to follow you, eyes squinting as if he was thinking. but the man tilted his head and brushed it off, walking away as if nothing happened.
©️ okaylorrainee 2023. please do not re-upload, translate my content anywhere without permission.
Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]
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theythembehavior · 25 days
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(first time submitting an ask ever sorry for the length of this thing or if there’s an expectation I didn’t follow! so do feel free to ignore or delete! - on mobile it looks really long - also might be more angsty rather than hurt I’m not sure if I know the difference writing wise)
you say hurt/comfort
I say step 2 for sure or the transition between barely civil qiu and tamarack to friendly or even friends qiu and tamarack - warning that this is not necessarily a healthy dynamic and probably ooc I’ve only played the demo twice, platonic in mind
something along the lines of a mc that really wants to bring back together the cul de sac kids and keeps trying to hang out with qiu and tamarack at the same time with not the greatest results
and over time they get more and more tired of being the glue of the “group” and get to the point where they stop trying with the group and individually with the both of them as well, maybe even self isolate fully
that is what brings together qiu and tamarack again although begrudgingly
I would think tamarack would reach out to qiu first (would depend) and then they both plot to do something (I’m not really sure what) to try to learn how to communicate and mend their relationship between the two of them and then with mc as well
I am ecstatic about this ask. I do not have a writing skills to do justice to exactly how much I love this idea. Don't be afraid to hit an OOC moment. We don't know too much about our lovely characters yet, but we can dream! There are very slight differences in the handful of lines we can get with both of them in the preview.
Also love, don't worry about the length, it feeds into my thoughts more <3
Slight layout for any warning considering friendship problems (Basically possessive and jealous behavior between Qiu and Tamarack, arguing)
Note: For the sole reason of updating, this is only one part of this ask. I'll do the other part when I'm feeling it and have the time!
It sucked, pretty badly.
They couldn't even hold an conversation together. Getting them in the same room was difficult if it wasn't in your house. It was like having divorced parents with split custody, if both of your parents were sending you back and forth every hour. You could swear that it became a competition to who could find you first for lunch. And ever since Tamarack had to switch lunch period, she acts defeated around Qiu.
It was almost sickening, this game a push and pull of theirs. You didn't want this jealousy in the cul-de-sac kids, they were supposed to be friends. There was no winner or loser for your attention, you were both of their friend, and they should be friends too.
One star moment was when you went to one of Tamarack's band practices, and Qiu insisted on coming as well. You thought that you and Qiu would just watch and enjoy the band play all sorts of songs for an oncoming assembly, but nooooo. Qiu spent the entire time trying to distracte you. Leaning on you, poking you, trying to get your eyes on them. And it couldn't be that they just love attention, you would notice, they don't act like that around Ren. At most they would lean on you but nothing else, it's only with Tamarack.
Not to say Tamarack's in the clear either. It's the same thing at Qiu's ballet practices. She's not as persistent, at some point she just draws on your arm, not that you really mind too much.
This consistent unspoken dispute the two was exhausting, you don't remember the last time you had to put so much effort into a mutual friendship. Perhaps it was unfair of you to try and force them to be friends, that's what your mom said. You couldn't say you disagreed but it didn't change the fact it was taking a toll on your mental health.
It was obvious to everyone that distance had built since your burn out, even Qui and Tamarack tried talking to you about it, only to be dismissed. It wasn't your fault! You have better things to do than be an object of their seemingly never-ending game of tug-of-war. Ren was merciful enough to spare you the questions.
It actually allowed you the chance to focus on other relations with teachers, peers, other friends, even your mother. While you did miss both Qui and Tamarack, they were currently both just.... you couldn't now with them.
But not being able to became simply ignoring them. Perhaps you were in the wrong, maybe you shouldn't have pushed too hard. It wasn't your life but you hated being a subject in which they fought over. If they didn't want to be friends, then they didn't have to be. You would've let it go if they simply told you that, but they chose to fight.
Of course, you always thought about apologizing, but how sincere would it be if you felt like you didn't do anything wrong?
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doyouknowbtsswag · 1 year
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I Found You |Su-Hyeok|
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(Spoilers)
I tapped my pencil against my desk listening to whatever the teacher was saying. I looked at the board and saw some notes to take. I took my time writing wanting it to be neat. I try my best to look presentable, wanting to meet my parents proud. It's not like they were strict I want to make them proud even though they aren't pushy. It's nice hearing my parents talk to my family about my grades. It wasn't just for them, I wanted to impress Su-Hyeok. We've talked before and we're pretty good friends but I want to be more. Will he know that? Absolutely not, I like being with him and I don't want to ruin our friendship even if I wanted more. I smiled to myself waiting till the bell rang so I could talk to him on the way to the cafeteria. He'd go sit with his friends unfortunately for me, I lost a friend because I wasn't cool enough so I end up talking to random people every day. I wasn't that talkative but I managed to talk to two other girls I wanted to show her I didn't need her. Once the bell rang I packed up my stuff and went outside the classroom to wait for him.
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," I said looking at Su-Hyeok grinning.
"Your so easy to sneak up on" He chuckled as a smacked his chest lightly.
"I am not, I just didn't expect a random voice to be right behind me," I said as we made our way to the cafeteria. "How was class?"
"Boring"
"Fooling around?" I asked jokingly raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe," He said smiling.
"Well my class wasn't that great either, I felt like I was going to fall asleep" I sighed. "But I have to work hard"
"No, you need to relax a bit." He said putting his arm around my shoulder in a joking manner, unfortunately. "You need to do something fun and not spend all your free time studying."
"I'll have you know I binge-watch shows and listen to music"
"Didn't you dance and sing in middle school?"
"Yes"
"Do you miss it?"
"Every once and a while I regret quitting," I said. "But there's nothing I can do now"
"You could still sign up," He said. "I'll even watch you perform"
"Maybe" I smiled.
"That should be a yes," He said. "I want to see you dance at least once"
"Like I said maybe." I smiled as he took his arm off my shoulder as we made it to the cafeteria.
"Can't wait for you to say yes later today" He said before walking over to his friends.
I sighed and looked for On-Jo and I-Sak. I saw On-Jo wave her wand to signal me over. I walked over and sat next to her.
"Why is your face all red?" On-Jo asked as I brought out my lunchbox.
"Su-Hyeok" I mumbled. "He's so oblivious"
"Everyone knows about your little crush except him," I-Sak said pointing her chopstick at me. "Just tell him"
"Absolutely not"
"Oh come on," On-Jo said.
"I don't want to lose him," I said taking a bite out of my apple. "I'd rather suffer"
"Don't be overdramatic" I-Sak said
"I'm not"
"Anyways how did you do on the test in Science?" I-Sak asked.
"I got a 95," I said proudly.
"I'm surprised it's not a 100" On-Jo joked
"Oh whatever," I said nudging her smiling. "And you?"
"Looks like we've got to clean up," She said changing the subject. "We'll be back we're just putting our trays back"
"Alright," I said watching them leave.
"Hey, Y/n? I know we don't talk much" I looked up and saw Cheong-San standing in front of the table. "Could you help me out with something?"
"Uh, sure? Depends on what it is" I said packing my lunch box.
"Can you tell On-Jo to meet me in front of the school later, I have to tell her something"
"I think I know what it is so of course" I grinned as he blushed.
"Don't tell anyone okay?"
"I won't," I said standing up. "Good luck"
"Thank you"
"Don't mention it" I smiled and watched him walk away.
I stood waiting for On-Jo and I-Sak to come back. I started to daydream till I heard a bunch of steps. I looked over and saw a bunch of students running in the cafeteria. Someone closed the door on the rest and banging was seen through the glass that it shattered open. Students flooded the cafeteria as chaos quickly spread. I was getting bumped into left and right. I stood up on the table to see what was truly going on. My heart dropped at the sight. People eating others and quickly turning into monsters to spread whatever was going on. I looked around for a place to run but it was almost impossible to leave. The sprinklers went off making everything worse. I saw Cheong-San help On-Jo go through a window and sighed in relief at least one of my friends will survive. I felt an arm tug on me and saw Su-Hyeok pulling me down by my hand.
"We have to go," He said as he grabbed a chair as if it was a shield to run outside. I almost slipped on but quickly caught myself
We ran to the stairs and I followed Su-Hyeok. I wasn't bothered to pay attention to the fact that we were holding hands. We stopped seeing a man on top of a ladder before falling down. As they were distracted we moved the ladder so we were able to get to a window.
"Be careful" He said as he climbed up The window opened and he was pulled through. I started to climb but the ladder started shaking. I looked down and saw a few zombies grabbing the ladder. I felt a hand grab mine as my breathing became shakier. The ladder officially collapsed and the only thing keeping me from the ground was Su-Hyeok's hand. "Don't let go! I've got you okay?"
I looked up horrified and Su-Hyeoks face mirrored mine. I had nothing to grab onto and my hand started to slip from his.
"Hold on a little more okay?" He said panicking. "I'll pull you up I promise! Guys help me!"
I felt more force pull me up but it made my hand slip more. His eyes were tearing up as he looked at me. He was using both of his hands but they kept slipping. I looked down and saw that the zombies walked away from where they just were. I could make a run for it and find someplace to find safety.
"I'm sorry" I whispered as my hand slipped from his.
I fell to the ground and quickly got up running for my life.
"Y/n!" He yelled trying to get down the building but his friends pulled him back.
His scream drew all of the zombies to that building point but I still had to close calls. I never looked back as I kept running forward. I looked at the big tree coming up close that led to a classroom window.
"Here I go" I whispered and did my best to climb the tree I yelped as I saw my foot being grabbed at.
I stomped on it with my other foot holding the tree branch for my life. Once the hand let go I made it to the top. The branches kept creaking as I slowly made it to what looked like the music room window. I looked through the window and saw the coast was clear. I carefully opened the window and climbed in. I sighed in relief until I heard the piano go off. I looked over and saw a girl trapped underneath the piano. I slowly moved back until I fell out of the classroom. I closed the door and noticed that she wasn't going to escape from under the heavy object. I sighed quietly sitting against the wall closest to the window. Fear finally had time to take over as I sat and watched what used to be my classmates bang against the window of the classroom or walk away bloodied with no emotions. I dug my head into my knees crying softly. A day passed by and my head hurt from crying all night and not sleeping. I was too scared to close my eyes just in case a zombie came in. The hallway silence was filled with a bunch of noises and I quickly got up. Before I could do anything the door opened and shut as I started to climb out of the window.
"Y/n?" I heard a familiar voice say. I turned around and saw a person holding a guitar in a bloody uniform.
"Cheong-San," I said stepping down from the window. "You're alive"
"I thought you died," He said as we whispered back and forth looking at the door in front of us.
"Is Su-Hyeok okay?" I said urgently.
"He's safe, don't worry," He said putting his hand on my shoulder.
"Thank fuck" I whispered.
"Stay back," He said referring to the girl under the piano.
"Don't worry she hasn't moved since yesterday."
He just nodded a few minutes later we heard voices come from the intercom. I flinched and hid behind Cheong-San as the Zombies ran to the speakers.
"Cheong-San are you there?" Dae-Su said over the intercom.
"Cheong-San do you hear us?" My heart rate spiked hearing Su-Hyeok's voice over the speakers.
"Told you," Cheong-San said rubbing my back.
"It's me Su-Hyeok. We'll come to you so stay put got it?"
"Don't come here Moron, you can't come here" Cheong-San said walking to the speaker as if it actually does something.
"Shh," I said and continued to listen to what he was saying.
Su-Hyeok kept reassuring Cheong-San they were coming but little did they know it took my whole power to get him to shut up to listen to the announcement.
"And Y/n you better be safe okay? I still have to get that yes from you so I can see you perform."
I nodded to myself but saw Cheong-San planning his escape. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the window. "Stop it!"
He was about to fight back till On-Jo came over the speaker.
"Cheong-San please stay still," On-Jo said making him stop fighting my grasp to leave. "I know you never listen to me but listen just this once"
This took Cheong-San out of his dazed state and sat on a desk his head in his hands.
"They'll be fine," I said sitting across from him. "Believe in them okay?"
"Yeah...."
This time music did blare in the speakers as I watched the zombies run to either side of the hallway. My leg bounced anxiously waiting to see if anyone ends up coming to get us. After what felt like forever we heard footsteps coming from the hallway and the door opening. I looked up and saw a group of people. Dae-Su went up and hugged Cheong-San and On-Jo looked over.
"Y/n?" Hyo-Ryung said. "I did see you on the drone camera"
"Drone camera?" I asked confused.
"Never mind that I'm glad your alive" She smiled.
"Where's Su-Hyeok?" I asked as On-Jo hugged me I started to struggle in her grasp trying to leave. "Where is he?"
"He was behind us," Dae-Su said.
Suddenly the door started to bang frantically. There was a voice telling us to let them in. Cheong-San hesitantly opened the door as Nam-Ra and Su-Hyeok ran in. I made eye contact with Su-Hyeok who ran up and hugged me.
"Thank god your okay," He said his voice shaky. "How did you do it, I thought I lost you"
"I thought I lost you too," I said I pulled away from the hug to look at him directly. His face was bloody and he had a bruise on his face. "What happened?"
"That's not important" He smiled gently. "What's important is that I can see you again"
"I should've told you this before but I really like you, when I was stuck in here I thought that I would never see you again and you wouldn't know my feelings. I got scared that I wouldn't be able to tell you and-" my rambling went off as I felt a pair of lips on mine.
"It's okay, I'm here" He cupped my cheek. "And I really like you too so don't scare me like that"
"I won't ever again"
"Promise?"
"I promise," I said hugging him and he let my hair. The soothing made me feel like collapsing from exhaustion but my happiness kept it away. I heard two people clapping at our confession.
"Shut up," Su-Hyeok said.
Even though this is one small moment in the hell hole that we have ahead of ourselves that I'm not sure I'm ready for it. This moment was the happiest little did I know the chaos that was just beginning.
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One of my most reblogged posts says, “ ATLA asks whether you can actually be friends across these lines if society refuses to be equitable. Friendships and romance depend not on conflict to deepen them but an active peacefulness.” I think a lot of people relate to the post’s critique of the kyriarchy (all those damn interwoven -isms!) and the ways it limits the formation of relationships. It describes how violence shortens lifespans, squashes nuance, and forces people together into exploitative rather than mutual dynamics. It’s easy to read my post as condemning the possibility of real connection across lines of oppression. I think that’s what I believed when I wrote it even. I’ve always had a certain gifted grace when I reread my writing, however, to discover that I’ve left a window of opportunity open. In this case, the window is within a few words in those sentences: “ATLA asks whether you can,” and that word, “active.”
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The show doesn’t merely ask, but it answers its questions with that concept of active peacefulness. Wtf does that mean, tho??? Our boi Aang is so notably avoidant as to be a stereotype of his culture within universe. If it were up to him alone at the start of the show, peace would be a completely passive state. But if that were the case, he’d still be in the big ol’ ice cube. It’s Katara and Sokka’s dynamic and conflicted communalism that frees the avatar unto the world again. Katara demonstrates how disagreement and rage need have nadda to do with assault or abandonment. They can be the features of closeness and trust within a healthy growing relationship, peaceful even as they exact major shifts in the world. Sokka’s misogyny isn’t anything to imitate, but its the first instance we see in the series of a relationship strong enough to accept critique, discourse, and change. Just in this first episode, Sokka illustrates receptivity, Katara models productive and honest emotion, and, soon enough, Aang is introduced to spur on the expansion of these healthy communal practices beyond imposed borders, with all of them learning and growing in relation to one another.
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This has profound implications for what comes in the finale regarding Azula and Ozai. These two powerhouses depended on order to stabilize their relationships rather than the bitchy discursiveness that constitutes real friendships or the meaningful arguments and compromises that make for a healthy romance. Importantly, neither gets the comeuppance they’d prefer: domination. Instead, they’re forced into relational dynamics. Azula is frozen alongside Katara, while Ozai’s energy is melded with Aang’s. If they are bested, it’s not in the arena of power; it’s in mutuality. They’re forced to be closer to the people they’ve oppressed and abused, held together rather than apart, and they come out of that encounter cowed but uninjured, the way a friend’s censure pains a soul so much worse than an enemy’s assault that cripples or kills. And the show’s not idealistic about the consequences of these symbolic gestures. It imprisons the antagonists, who are still not friends or even allies--only horrific equals who have a long way to go before any kind of trust is possible.
One person knows that long road, though. Zuko. His relationship to the gaang, and most of all Aang, reveals best that friendships across the constructed lines of oppression are possible and, in fact, a model for the most transformative relational dynamics. I’ve gotta block quote Ramzi Fawaz’s shit on friendship in Queer Forms, cuz it’s game-changing in concepts of friendship, and subsequently, why we feel so delightfully charged by Zuko’s ‘redemption,’ as its been called. 
Friendships of the kind I am describing, then, ones that carry the spirit of inventiveness and experimentation described by [Audre] Lorde and [Michel] Foucault, are exceptionally capable of handling conflict, because a genuine equality between the parties (that is nothing like sameness but has to do with two people equally valuing one another) means that both are actively engaged in the construction of the bond. This is why friendship can never function as the application of a rule (you must care for me in this predetermined way as a condition of our speaking) but rather takes shape in the doing of it, as the mutual creation, and continual renegotiation, of shared criteria for dialogue (we will speak, again and again, in order to figure out what conditions best enable our mutual growth). This model of sociality leaves far less space for victims and perpetrators, accusers and accused, because of a sense of mutual involvement, a complicity of the best kind not unlike Lorde’s conception of ‘the erotic’ as a force that animates a shared creation or ‘invention’ of new social forms between two people. It is also a description of the kind of interaction that incites people to change, to relase destructive or oppressive logics like homophobia, sexism, transphobia, and racism, not under ideological duress, shame, or demand, but in the surprising encounter with others who shift the ground beneath one’s feet.
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We can see these kind of steadfast and contentious dynamics with lots of pairings as they develop on the show : Toph and Katara, Suki and Sokka, Aang and Teo, Katara and Aang, Mai and Zuko. These relationships go beyond simple alliance. While the empire’s violence might force these people together or apart, its their own abilities to face their differences, stick it out, and build something mutually beneficial (rather than the easier option of antagonistic) that connotes these relationships, even as it forces them to vacate the ideologies they held at the beginning of each episode in order to create more expansive visions of understanding. Zuko’s arc, of course, is the clearest answer atla offers: he goes from a villanous relationship, to a stance of confusion, toward a final state of loyalty and dedicated friendship. 
Relationships are possible within the sphere of violence and across the hierarchical lines the violence has implemented and enforces. Those people in positions of power, upheld by the violence and neglect of others, are actually equals (in the existential sense) to the most marginalized individual, and are therefore capable of all those tenets of humanity--embarrassment, sensitivity, loneliness, evil, empathy, etc. It’s only that the domain of oppressive conflict makes the tensions, betrayals, and metamorphoses that are a necessary part of the best kinds of friendships terrifying because those experiences feel so similar to abuse. In abuse, though, only one person is forced to change. In a reciprocal relationship, everyone is surprised to find they’re not entirely offended that someone else finds them imperfect--and somehow that’s endearing and engenders changes that neither person necessarily even demands. This is active peace: joking, judging, hugging, arguing, confessing, bitching, breaking rules, trusting, dancing, loving within a deeply imperfect world with deeply imperfect people for whom you, nevertheless, still want the best and who seem to want the best for you (which is why you wanted the world to change for the better in the first place).
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missobjection · 1 month
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To: Phoenix Wright | miles x phoenix
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Synopsis: Edgeworth writes an unsent letter to Phoenix Wright in regards to his feelings about him
Word Count: 1258
A/N: hey all! this is my first written piece for the ace attorney fandom (please be nice). let me know if you enjoyed! feel free to send me requests/questions/thoughts through my asks inbox. perhaps a part two will be in order-- depends. thank you!
Warnings: nothing but fluff and feels!
It was unbecoming of Edgeworth to have such ‘unnecessary feelings.’ 
To express his gratitude (or fear) of von Karma taking him in and guiding his entire career, Edgeworth doesn’t waste time with his feelings. His future was entirely thanks to Von Karma. Despite his infamous career as a prosecutor, Edgeworth could never deny what he has done for him. A home of his own, never starved, earning a title as one of the top prosecutors in the country. It was a sort of debt that felt it could never be repaid, even post the fact that Von Karma was responsible for Edgeworths young decline. 
What was it that his therapist said? 
‘Von Karma wasn’t the reason that you kept going. He left you out of the streets, but the credit for your motivation and barely maintained mind goes to that friend you mention so much. That defense attorney you always speak of. Your friend.’ 
The sun was setting beautifully, its warmth pouring into Edgeworths large window. His apartment was practically all windows, allowing for the sky to always find his way to him. He sat upright at his desk, staring longingly at a pen and piece of paper he placed before himself. That damn therapist, Edgeworth thought annoyingly. Since his last session, her words have been terrorizing his thoughts. It was bittersweet to have a therapist as good as she was. 
She had been the reason he was sitting there, preparing what she had suggested he should do. ‘Rather than confess your feelings, why don’t you write them down?’ If Edgeworth actually allowed himself to feel freely, he would have done this a long time ago. But even so… writing it down feels as daunting as saying it aloud. His therapist would know– it took him over half a year to even admit that he cares about Phoenix Wright in some capacity. 
“Why am I so…” Edgeworth whispers to himself, his stomach pitted with uncertainty. Just the thought of him writing down his feelings and somehow leaving his home and reaching Wright frightened him. His irrational thoughts are making him reluctant. But he knows better than to back down now. Especially since his therapist will be expecting results, and Edgeworth has never been one to not produce as such. 
The pen felt heavy in his hand. He fiddled with it, staring blankly down at the letter that will not write itself. Emitting a long sigh. Edgeworth presses the paper down with his free hand and finally allows the pen to help him write down what Phoenix will never get to hear. 
_________
Wright, 
I’d like to preface this by apologizing to you for the way I am towards you. It has come to my attention recently that the reason I’m so… curt towards you is because I don’t know how to face you honestly. I never wanted to come across so rudely, I just didn’t imagine a scenario in which we would see one another again. But now that you’ve come back into my life, I now know that I’ve been missing a lot in life. 
To you, you’re more than my rival. Throughout the time of you becoming the very defense attorney that would best me, I’ve realized that our friendship has translated through time. Wright, you were always the ridiculous kid with a horrible taste in humor and constantly had mischievous plans with Larry. I didn’t think you’d amount to anything, but I still wanted to be around you. You, in a way, kept me sane up until my fathers passing. 
Since then, I have hoped to avoid you. Not any fault of your own, but because of my own embarrassment. When I changed my mind and became a prosecutor, I figured you’d be disappointed in me. That the boy who defended you from our class years ago was now a harsh, ruthless prosecutor that didn’t believe in defending any criminal. My guilty-until-proven-innocent mindset completely took over, and I wouldn’t be able to face you again under those circumstances. 
But then you ended up before me once again. 
You’re taller now. Your eyes, despite how many years have passed, still hold wonder and hope. You’re soft spoken, and you try your best in everything, even if you might be in over your head. Your arrogance is complemented beautifully by your persistence. Wright, you are the embodiment of what I wish I would have become.
Even when I denied your help countless times during my trial, you still appeared before me at the precinct. You wouldn’t leave me alone, pestering me like a fly that won’t leave your house. You’d make jokes with me even if I don’t laugh or might not understand them. Even when I’m so cold to you, your warmth completely melts any cruel facade I had in my arsenal. 
You still looked at me the same way you did when we were younger. 
And since you have come back into my life, everything feels less heavy. I don’t feel force to speak when it comes to you. Whenever you invite me to outings, I feel as though I can’t refuse. Whenever we go out with Gumshoe and Maya Fey, I feel as though it’s been like this the whole time. 
The loneliness I’ve forced upon myself is now nonexistent since your arrival. When I told you about the unnecessary feelings, it was not that I was unhappy to see again. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to feel anything regarding you. What I believed I did feel for you was annoyance. 
I thought I couldn’t stand seeing you whenever we both came into the courthouse. Whenever we were on a case, I only thought about beating you and nothing more than that. I thought I hated your smile and laughter. Whenever you won a case, I took your credit for luck. For so long, I thought that you’d be the end of me, and for that I wanted nothing of you. 
But Phoenix, I realize now that I don’t just want you around. I need you around. 
When you came into court, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Whenever I watched you unravel a case, I couldn’t help but root for you, despite my role in it. Your smile and laughter is now an expectation, not a surprise. Every time you win a case, I can’t help but commend you in my head. I now know that I haven’t been progressing in my life until you came back around. 
Now I can’t see myself without you, Phoenix. 
Thank you for asking me out for dinner every time we both work overtime. Thank you for being clumsy and amusing me despite your embarrassment. Thank you for casually helping me with my separate cases, even if you might not be eager to take my side. I feel accomplished whenever I’m the reason for your smile or laughter. I pray every day that our time together never ends. I hope that this clears up how I feel for you. 
_________
And with that, Edgeworth dutifully places down the pen, and proceeds to walk away from the letter. His face was covered by his hands, as though hiding his embarrassment from it. “Now then…” he murmurs quietly. “What now?” 
Edgeworth could only stand there and wonder to himself: will he ever find the courage to ever give this to Phoenix? His cheeks could only burn up a little more from the very thought. 
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iamstartraveller776 · 2 months
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Feel free to ignore, but you mentioned that the fandom landscape has changed drastically from twenty years ago, and I’m curious what that means for you. I’ve seen lots of posts on the topic, but am interested in your experience if you want to share.
I absolutely can share!
Twenty years ago, I found fandom through bulletin boards or message boards (depending on what you called them). Trekbbs was my first one, and it's still standing. High speed internet was relatively new, and it was easy to keep up with "threads." Whenever you logged in, it would take you to where you left off with any given thread so you could catch up. (Discord does this...kinda, but Discord moves at warp speed where BBS's moved at impulse power.) It was easier to stay connected, to get to know people. Also, the boards were (and are) heavily moderated. Trolls were banned, and folks who got too heated under the collar were usually temporarily banned until tempers cooled. So it was generally a safe environment.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that the vast majority of the boards were grown-up only. That's not to say that minors didn't sneak through, but they were on their best behavior lest they get found out and kicked off the board.
And from the boards, we learned where to find fanfic. Back then, even though FFN existed, fic was primarily archived on private sites. There were no such thing as likes and kudos back then. It was fandom etiquette (at least for my corner of the Trek fandom) to leave a comment/review if you read a fic (and be nice about it!). It was the era of Kink Tomato (your kink is not my kink and that's okay) and don't like don't read and simply fun. We had challenges, did round robins—where someone would write a chapter of a fic, then another author would write the next, and so forth.
Even when I made the switch to posting more on FFN, it was pretty normal to send a message to someone to thank them for favorite-ing your story even if they didn't comment. And often they would message back, telling you what they enjoyed. I have some friendships born from this! It was normal. Writers weren't called "needy" and "self-absorbed" for hoping for more interaction with their readers. We were all in this together.
I also did yahoo groups for a time, and had a fantastic time with my friends in an email chain.
LiveJournal was kind of the peak of fandom, IMO. I think it was the first "public" website, rather than something privately owned, where we could build communities (private or public) as well as have our own pages (private or public). Some of the best fandom events happened on that site. But LiveJournal ended up imploding. (Cyber attacks then the new owners started wiping out entire communities without warning for violating the new terms of service. It was horrible.)
So we all moved to Tumblr. (And we were slowly moving to AO3. Some also moved to the site formerly called Twitter.)
Tumblr was pretty awesome back then. Because fandom people took the same community with them when they came. We didn't have replies back then, but dagnabit we screenshot tags or reblogged comments and posted them with replies. It was easier to follow tags and even some fandoms created blogs that were archives for fics. (Myself included.) The downside was, and continues to be, lack of moderation. Not that I think fandom should be gatekept, but it isn't as easy-going when you do have to worry about putting up with trolls as a rule rather than the exception.
Alas, life happened and I had to step away for a few years. When I came back...it's so much quieter. Significantly less interaction. Less comments on fics. There's just...less connection in general. People tend to flit in and out of fandom more often. And on top of that, there is the odd movement that fanworks shouldn't contain anything that would make a reader/viewer uncomfortable or is unrelatable to the general masses. As a fanworks creator, there have been times I felt more like a monkey dancing for a demanding audience rather than a squee-ing fan sharing things with fellow sqee-ing fans. I seriously questioned for a long time whether I would bother anymore.
(This also doesn't mention how streaming and binge-watching series rather than weekly releases have affected fandom. It's different when you get one episode a week for an entire season of 20-24 episodes than when a streamer releases the entire 8-10 episode series at once.)
A part of this is me, too. I don't have nearly as much time to invest in fandom as I used to. I can't be too critical of the changes in fandom, but it is different.
And so I hang onto a few of the friends I've found (like you!) and continue to find here and there. I write whatever I want and delete rude comments. I always reply to the others. And I keep plugging on!
Thank you for asking! And thank you for being part of what I love about being on Tumblr even after all these changes! (Sorry I got a bit verbose!)
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I want to see more arospec people with personality disorders
I want to see more arospec people who fit into the stereotypes. The negative stereotypes. The villian stereotypes. I want to see more arospecs disgusted by the obsession with love and instead value other things. Like integrity. Honestly. Loyalty. Being reliable, someone you can depend on—trustworthy. Sticking to a goal and not letting anyone else get in the way. Doing stupid things, but not in the name of love or romantic attraction, but rather because of boredom and self-serving purposes. Enjoying spending time with someone and understanding that your connection is “special,” but in an fp way.
Love is not enough. Romantic attraction is not everything.
I want to see more aplatonic spectrum people. I want to see aplspec people who don’t make friendships or their relationships everything. I want to see aplspec people who would not die for their friends and other people who are possibly significant to them. I want to see aplspec people focusing on themselves and working towards their own healing, to live a life worth living that is not dependent on, nor defined by other people.
Where are the aspec people with personality disorders.
All the time I see the acommunity go “you are not alone”. Well, I mean it really feels like I am. I know no aspecs in real life, I haven’t really been able to keep any aspec friends that I have met online, and it really just seems like I am genuinely alone. The acommunity is struggling with so much internalized aphobia and a devasting lack of support from non-existent allies. It feels scary and I feel very much alone attempting to openly discuss my intersectionality between my personality disorder and my aspec identity. I feel like I want to be less alone in the acommunity as an aspec with a personality disorder, but I can’t do that by myself. I need the acommunity to make room for the voices of people with intersectionality between multiple marginalized identities, and I need the acommunity to also amplify the voices of people with personality disorders to let us know we are valued here.
Some aspecs are cold. Some aspecs struggle to care about other people. Some aspecs are cold hearted. Some aspecs became aspec due to trauma. Some aspecs may have turned out differently if they grew up in a different environment. And you know what, we are still valid. Being traumatized or having a personality disorder *does not* make our aspec identity any less valid. It sucks that more aspecs (who are already significantly marginalized, forgotten, and invalidated) struggle to accept that.
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slayerkitty · 7 months
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(Stages of) Grief and Loss in Last Twilight
So apparently I'm ready to meta this show right out of the gate! That's never happened before, lol. The last P'Aof show that aired was Moonlight Chicken and I was still learning about BL as a genre as well getting caught up on various BLs (I mean, I'm still getting caught up, but I'm way more well versed now, lol). It's exciting, actually getting to meta a P'Aof show.
@twig-tea was the first of the former Only Friends Ephemerality Squad to discuss Last Twilight with a focus on liminality. During our discussion on the characters and how liminality was affecting them, I mentioned that grief is liminal; @twig-tea replied with "When you’re in grief you’re not in the same space you were, and coming out the other side you’re different and the world feels different, and grief feels interminable, and you can’t feel the passing of time the same way."
That sentence, of course, got me thinking about the grieving process (because P'Aof seems to be once again using his art to work through his emotions surrounding loss; I remember that it was said he used Moonlight Chicken for this as well). I was further prompted by @waitmyturtles and their commentary on Mhok (Mork? I know Jimmy sanctioned Mork; have we settled on a spelling?) and how he is angry about and distanced from his sister's death.
Depending on where you look, there are 5-7 "stages" of grief. Per Medical News Today, they're listed as: Shock: This stage may involve numbed disbelief in response to news of a loss. It may serve as an emotional buffer to prevent someone from feeling overwhelmed. Denial: Denial may entail refuting the reality of the loss or any associated feelings. Once an individual accepts reality, they can move forward through the healing process. Anger: During this stage, an individual may direct their anger toward the person who died, doctors, family members, or even religious entities. It is important to address the anger. Bargaining: Bargaining involves thoughts such as “I will do anything if you take away the pain.” This stage may come at any point within the grieving process. It is frequently accompanied by guilt. Depression: At this stage, a person may experience feelings of emptiness and intense sadness. They may also withdraw from daily activities and things they once enjoyed. Testing: Testing is the process of trying to find solutions that offer a means of dealing with loss. Someone may drift in and out of other grieving stages during this time. Acceptance: This is the final stage of the grieving process. Acceptance does not mean people feel OK about a loss. Rather, it means they realize the loss is their new reality. They understand that while life will not continue as it did before, it will go on. This stage may involve reorganizing roles and forming new relationships.
I wanted to give a closer examination of specifically Mhok and Day and where they're at in the grieving process at the start of the show, as they've both suffered tragic, massive (albeit entirely different) losses.
Mhok:
Mohk's losses are huge but mostly affect only him. Prior to the start of the show, he had lost his parents (how they died and how long they've been gone isn't really mentioned but he and Rung don't seem too grief-stricken in the flashback to visiting them). He made a mistake, a fight went too far and he lost his freedom (so I'm a little unclear exactly how much time he spent in jail - was it the full year? or six months?), as well as presumably his home and his job.
Somewhere in the ensuing jail time, he lost his friends (assuming he was telling the truth to the guy who took his ankle monitor off) and it's implied he lost his girlfriend (I am fascinated by Mhok's relationship with his ex; with everything else he lost, he has managed to maintain a friendship with her - so much so that she has a boyfriend and it doesn't even phase him). The night Mhok is arrested, he loses his last remaining family member, his sister. Rung's death is clearly the thing he's struggling with the most - as @waitmyturtles said "There’s a lot of anger, a lot of regret, a lot of avoidance, a lot of dancing around the honest truth."
Mhok seems to have reached acceptance with most of the things he's lost - his parents, his job, his friends, his girlfriend - but he is struggling with his anger over his current situation (needing a job so he can, you know, have money to live - and also pay for his sister's car storage) as well as the anger he clearly feels toward his sister. Given how she died, Mhok says she's to blame.
Day:
Day's losses are completely different and affect everyone in his life, most notably his mother and his brother. While Mhok was just muddling through life before he lost everything, Day is at the top of the world. He's a champion badminton player, headed into an important match when the unthinkable happens - his vision goes blurry and he can't see clearly. Now, we don't get a lot of info up front about exactly what's wrong with Day's vision - one of the nurses at the hospital says he had some sort of car accident (where I'm assuming he would have hit his head?). As a result of his injury, Day has lost his career, but more importantly, he's lost control over his life.
His injury is in control now - every moment of every day is now centered around the fact that he can't see. Every interaction he has with his family has to do with his vision loss. What's interesting is that he seems to be fairly accepting of his injury, of the fact that he can't see. It's the way he's being treated as a result that is making him angry - his family is definitely made it so he has little to no agency and no self-sufficiency in his life. He's in a wheelchair so he can be pushed around the house (instead of just being able to learn where the furniture is and walk himself - though he is still getting over an ankle injury). His brother is giving up his entire life it seems to be Day's carer - something clearly neither of them want.
So we have two angry men with dealing with massive loss - and knowing P'Aof, we will go along on their journey acceptance and healing.
Tagging @waitmyturtles, @twig-tea, @ranchthoughts
If you'd like to be tagged in future metas, let me know and I'll add you!
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i-was-a-well-kid-once · 11 months
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“When the lights go out (and the walls come down)”
Most of our mornings were slow. We’d get home from a case sometime early in the morning, so most of us would end up sleeping in, sometimes until noon. Most days we’ll wake up, and Holly will already be here, tidying up, doing paperwork, or taking calls. Out of the three of us that lived here,  Lockwood was usually up first, already in the kitchen with the kettle on, reading the morning newspaper or the latest magazine. The next to wake up was George, who joins Lockwood in the kitchen and usually starts making some breakfast. Then finally, I traipsed into the kitchen still half asleep and in great need of some tea. 
The thing is, I usually don’t remember actually going to bed most nights. I’ll usually be so tired from whatever case we just got back from, that it has become routine to tramp up to my attic and plop onto my bed, some nights, too tired to even change into actual pajamas. 
Nights when I am plagued by particularly horrifying nightmares, I normally wake up and have trouble falling back asleep, so I’ll make the trek down to the kitchen, carefully avoiding those areas of the floor that creak, so as to not wake up either of the boys, and I’ll make myself some tea, or sneak some biscuits out of rotation. 
Some nights, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. I would sneak down to the kitchen, bleary eyed, moments of vulnerability still flashing through my mind, and would find Lockwood with a cup of tea at the kitchen table, or his favorite armchair in the library. 
Some nights it would make me feel better just sitting with him, drinking tea, while I sketch and he reads. Some nights, we’ll find it in ourselves to fall back asleep, whether we would return to our respective rooms, or maybe we would cross over the line of friendship, putting pause on the unceasing dance that was the dance around our true feelings, wants, and wishes; because in the hazy hours of the late night or early morning, it was never the same. When the lights were low, walls would come down and secrets would be shared. Which is exactly why, some mornings, I would find myself safely tucked into Lockwood’s arms, curled together underneath a warm duvet, either mine or Lockwood’s, usually depending on who needed to be comforted the most. 
This time, however, I awoke to the orange glow of dawn coming through the curtained windows of the library, on the floral printed sofa, a duvet draped somewhat messily over us. 
As I blinked open my eyes—which struggled to adjust to the bright light—and assessed the situation, I was able to register that this was a risky place to be sleeping, as George or Holly could find us like this and we would never be able to hear the end of it. 
I lay on my side, next to Lockwood’s sleeping figure, arms wrapped around his waist, my ear against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. His arms were wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close to him. Our legs were entangled together, and I realized there would be no way to untangle myself from him with him stirring. 
I thought back to last night. I remembered waking up in a cold sweat, after watching another alternative of our trip to the Other-Side play out inside my head. These nightmares would always feel so real, it was getting hard to convince myself, in the nights and mornings that I would wake up to, that everyone is fine. We all made it out; we’re all alive. 
Eyes still red, cheeks wet with streaks of tears, I crept down to the kitchen, searching for some solace, some relief in the form of a cup of tea to warm the cold numbness I felt inside. A feeling I feel a little too often now, since my two trips to the Other-Side: a feeling of a coldness that can never be broken or thawed. 
When I found Lockwood in there, feeling relieved rather than surprised, I gratefully accepted the tea he poured for me, and when he had led me into the library and sat me down, still in a daze, I had let him pull me into his arms and hold me. I found his heartbeat and focused on the sound of it; the steady rhythm; the reassurance that he is alive. We’re alive. I let it lull me to sleep. 
Now, lying here, I felt warm and safe. I felt whole in a way I had never thought was possible. No, I’ve never been held like this before by anyone else, I’ve never felt this cared about by anyone else; I’ve never felt this safe. 
I felt Lockwood stir as I shifted my legs slightly underneath the duvet. I wondered what time it was, having a feeling it’s been a long time since Lockwood had slept in this late. He didn’t seem to get enough sleep, but I was glad he was resting well now. 
“Luce?” I felt the hum of his words against my cheek. His voice was hoarse from sleep.
“Mhm?” I hummed in response, finding my voice to be just as raspy. 
“Your feet are freezing.” He said, moving his legs around, away from my feet, as if to prove his point.
I let out a soft giggle at that, resisting the urge to press them against his skin again, just to mess with him. “M’sorry, what do you suppose I do about it, it’s not my fault.” I mumbled, teasingly. 
“Mm.” He hummed. “Could try wearing socks.”
Now I did press my feet to his skin, a sleepy grin spreading across my face after hearing him hiss in protest.
“Geez,” he hissed, pushing my feet away with his own. “What are they, made of ice cubes?” 
I scoffed at him, playfully. “You’re so dramatic.” 
“Hmm.” He mumbled into my hair, tightening his hold around my shoulders, bringing me just a little closer. 
I melted into his embrace, closing my eyes. We were silent for a few minutes, listening to each other’s breathing. I figured Lockwood had fallen back asleep until he started tracing soft circles along my arm with his thumb. 
“Do you feel any better now?”
It took me a moment to realize he was referring to my nightmare I had last night. I tried to recall what I had told him about it, if anything, but I hardly remembered anything about last night. 
“M’alright.” I really feel a lot better now. I had almost entirely forgotten about it until now. Opening my eyes, I rested my gaze on the colorful rug that lay in the center of the room.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was gentle, still husky from sleep, but so warm. 
“There’s not much to say, really. Same as it usually is.” I said into his chest, focusing on his calloused fingers tracing light patterns on my skin. 
“You were back there again?” His hand moved into my hair and he began to slowly card his fingers through it, no doubt finding the streaks of white that had been left in there. Essentially they were scars, I suppose, a reminder that we’ve been there. Not that we needed any more reminders. 
When I didn’t answer, he only continued to finger his way through my tangles, every now and then massaging towards my scalp. “I know you don’t like them, but I think these white strands look pretty with your brown hair.” 
I gave a small grunt at that. He was right about me not liking them. I had considered dying them, hiding them away, but something had always stopped me from going through with that. 
“No, really, Luce.” He pressed his mouth to my hair. “You’re beautiful with or without them.” 
Doing my best to ignore the warmth creeping onto my cheeks and neck, I sighed and quietly added, “I like yours, too.” 
“They do make me all the more charming, don’t they?” He teased, lifting his chin off of my head. And though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was grinning.
“Maybe they do,”—a chuckle from him—“but don’t let that go to your head.” I said, lifting my head so I could see him, vainly hoping he wouldn’t notice the red tint of my cheeks. 
Grinning, he tapped my nose softly with his finger. “Too late.” 
I rolled my eyes, fighting unsuccessfully to keep a grin off my own face. How could I when he smiles at me like that? I put my head back against his chest, again, finding comfort in his heart beat. 
We fell into a comfortable silence that lasted for about two minutes. 
“Luce,” 
“Yeah?” 
“How do your feet get so cold?” 
“I don’t know, Lockwood.” 
“Maybe you can wrap them in the blanket, or put some socks on for heaven’s sake.” Lockwood shifted his legs so they would be free of my cold grasp.
“Maybe some tea would warm me up.” I said, innocently. Not that I really wanted him to get up, but—per usual—I could really go for some tea. 
He sighed, dramatically, resting his chin against my hair. “I suppose.” He began to shift around and eventually untangled himself and sat up on the edge of the couch. “I’ll put the kettle on, as long as you’re still here when I get back.” 
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josefavomjaaga · 9 months
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Letter from Laure Junot to her husband (1812)
This is for @impetuous-impulse and @snowv88: As promised, here’s the letter Laure Junot wrote to her husband in September 1812, when Junot was with the Grande Armée in Russia. It’s taken from the book "Lettres interceptées par les Russes", edited by Frédéric Masson (and of which I only own one of those Indian "reprints" that come down to a really bad scan and that I had rightfully be warned of before I bought it 😋. However, these pages are perfectly legible.)
For context: While the publication contains letters that normally did not reach their destination, as they were intercepted during the second half of the Russian campaign, this missive actually had been written during the first months of the invasion and had gotten to Junot safely. However, in his answer, Junot sent it back to Laure, and this answer then fell into the hands of the Russians. (I do not know what they were thinking. Because it’s rather private, and not pretty.)
Laure Junot, at the time when she wrote this letter, happened to be at a spa, at the same time as several other ladies of the court, off-duty empress Joséphine, Julie more-or-less-queen of Spain, Pauline Borghese and the crown princess of Sweden, Julie’s sister Désirée.
The Duchess L. of Abrantès to Junot, Duke of Abrantès. Aix [en Savoie], 7 September 1812 Your last letter caused me to feel both pain and pity. It comes from a fool, and from a fool all the more guilty for being so, as it depends on him to recover his reason and as he refuses to do so as stubbornly as if it meant his eternal misfortune. People dominated by an unfortunate passion are, in the beginning, like sick people who do not want to submit to the vigorous treatment that would cure them. And you want me to feel sorry for you! You want me to pity you! But do you deserve it? Yes, perhaps, but of this pity stripped of all esteem, for you are not the one to whom I promised to offer mine along with all my friendship as the prize for his noble efforts to deserve the name of man, by removing from his heart a feeling that he knows can never be happy. In this respect, you know my way of thinking. It is invariable, and nothing can change it. For many months I have spoken in the same terms to you, and I always will, because it is the language of both my heart and my reason. Perhaps it seems too harsh to you and you find me too frank. A more flirtatious person would no doubt be less so, but is it not better for me to refuse you a poison that would only aggravate your wound and to apply to it a balm that should, according to my desire, remove even the scar and only leave behind of its memory that which could, in the future, spread more charm over our friendship?
Whoa. Now that's a handfull. Please don't hold back, Madame! I have no clue (but would love to speculate!) what kind of "unfortunate passion" she refers to.
For a long time I had this ambition that almost all women have, this unbridled desire to attract attention and admiration, to inspire passionate feelings, to be a kind of divinity for everything around me. I paid for all these adulations with a look or a smile that often troubled the soul of the person to whom they were addressed, without stirring mine. Well, it is with bitterness that I remember this time in my life, and it would seem criminal to me now to encourage or give rise to a feeling that I could not share.
Is this a hint at her own wrongdoings, the affair with Metternich?
I am very happy to think that you are now close to your mother and your son. Give the latter all the time you can spare from your business and the duties you are obliged to fulfil. You have, you told me, great confidence in his tutor. But could strangers ever match a father's eye? Your abilities and your wit put you in a position to watch over his studies very closely yourself. May your loving attention also be focused on his young heart and his feelings. May he one day be able to return to you all the good things he possesses. Believe me, his virtues will be much dearer to him.
This passage confuses me deeply. How can she assume Junot is with his mother and his son in September 1812, when Junot is with the Grande Armée, and the Grande Armée in Russia since June? She must have known that, right? We'll see in the postscript that the ladies were informed of what was going on at the front. Also, the need she feels to interest Junot in his own child is so sad.
I'm leaving for Geneva the day after tomorrow, no matter how much the princesses insist that I stay. I haven't seen my children for three months now, and the need to be closer to them is becoming more pressing every day. I promised to go to Changrenon. I have to spend two days there, and from there I'll go straight to Paris, where I'll be very happy to see and embrace my children, the joy and glory of my life! Ah, when I look back on such moments, I no longer say that it is deprived of any happy future!
Which apparently otherwise she had said. - Also, as she says she will go to Paris to see her children, does that not imply that the son (who was five at the time, according to a footnote) was also there? Does that mean that in the passage above she supposed Junot to be in Paris as well? For that matter, was Junot's mother in Paris, or did she live elsewhere?
I hope that the first letter I receive from you will be good and reasonable, just as I want it to be. Many people take great pride in never changing their feelings. Do the opposite and put your pride in driving away from you those who now dominate you. It is only through weakness, believe me, that we retain an unreasonable inclination, and the word consistency is profaned when applied to madness. Farewell, believe in my sincere friendship; nothing can diminish it, and one thing can increase it greatly: the certainty of being able to give it to you without fear.
This sounds more like a mother trying to reign in an adolescent. The use of the word "crainte" is also interesting. What precisely does she fear?
You ask me about my health. In truth, I don't know what to tell you, as I am still too ill to go and distress my friends by telling them about my sufferings. I'm still coughing up blood, and in the last six days I've had three new bouts of vomiting. There you have my bulletin. P.S.: I am reopening my letter to tell you that I am no longer going to Geneva. Yesterday, after writing my letter, I received the bulletin of the 25th [August, of the Grande Armée in Russia, mentioning her husband]. You have probably read it, and you know me well enough to be convinced that this is not the moment I would choose for a pleasure trip. I'm also in a lot of pain; two hours ago, on my way back to the Empress's, I vomited so much blood that it could only be stopped by putting ice on my chest, so now I'm in so much pain that I can't breathe.
Does she try to imply that the army bulletin they received made her feel worse? I think it's the one mentioning Junot not quite being up to the job.
Also interesting: She adresses her husband by the formal "vous" throughout the letter. Which I believe was slowly going out of use but still not unusual in France, especially between spouses of high nobility. Still, this letter makes me feel as if Laure and her Andoche at this point already lived seperate lives. It sounds like one you would write to a husband you had recently divorced.
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Season 3 of Bridgerton
An analysis of part 1 and theories of part 2
To say this season has been long awaited would be an understatement and I am proud to say that from what I have seen it has met expectations with some lovely surprises.
While it was well known that this was to be Colin and Penelope’s season I did not expect to see Francesca fall in love this season let alone become the diamond. For those who read the books we never got to meet her first husband and to get this chance in the show is quite interesting and I wish to see more of this relationship as it progresses against the Queen’s wishes.
It was also a welcome sunrise to see Lady Violet potentially finding love after such a long time since her husband’s passing. She is certainly one who has seen many hardships and deserves to find love again.
Meanwhile, Colin has returned from his adventures in such a roguish fashion and while he was certainly charming I have found myself more captivated by Lord Debling. Perhaps it is his acting skills or how the writers presented him but he is truly a fascinating character when he is on screen. He is also the first suitor to treat Penelope with any sort of respect when courting her which was a welcome change. That is not to say Colin wasn’t kind to her but it was from friendship rather than romantic interest until near the end of part 1 of Season 3 when he finally faced his feelings.
Penelope had also redeemed herself this season beyond the cruel actions of Lady Whistledown which I found was handled very well. However while I found myself wishing for her to marry Lord Deblin that quickly changed when she silently admitted to not loving him. Out of all the characters Penelope is certainly one who deserves a love match this season.
But what I found most surprising was the turn around for Lady Cressida. Through her friendship with Eloise we were allowed to see a new side of her. While she does have some of her old habits of bullying Penelope (and I do wish for an explanation for that) I don’t not wish for her father to marry her off to the highest bidder. Even Lady Cressida does not deserve to be married off like cattle to the slaughter.
However, with part 2 set to release June 13th I am hoping for the best for all of our favorite characters I do wish to see Lady Cressida married to Lord Deblin. Their match seems to be the most agreeable after everything that has happened to both of them and she genuinely shows interest without another suitor she is secretly in love with.
With so many plots, romances, and much more I wonder if season four will follow the formula of season 3 and have not only Benedict finding his love in our yet to be seen Cinderella at the masquerade (much like in the books) but include Eloise and her romance with Sir Phillip Crane. However that will mean that Marina will be gone. Of course that depends if the writers chose to continue with that romance plot.
I know some fans of the show are sensitive to Marina’s situation however it is something that we should not be afraid to discuss. She is a lovely character and her actress was phenomenal in the show but for those who read the books it is heartbreaking knowing what the future may hold. One that I am unsure if the writers on the show will be comfortable working with. But we will never know until season 4.
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imakemywings · 3 months
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After the juicy "Celebrimbor not talking to any of his family" take, you've hit us with another equally juicy (but probably controversial lol) take of Russingon which is something I've been riding for a while now, @spiritofwhitefire spoke nothing but facts. Still, on a serious note (no offense, I really love that ship so much) the constant characterization of Fingon as blindy forgiving, and always siding with Maedhros (or like being desperate to be with him) was probably what made me sour a bit on Russingon. Fingon has other personalities and motivations besides being Maedhros' love interest or being his hype man but seriously, he's Fingolfin's son, and seeing how close and loyal Fingon was to Fingolfin, I am sure, he would be genuinely pissed at Maedhros. I can't imagine him instantly forgiving Mae or something, and even if he did, does his forgiveness mean something to Mae because, at the end of the day, Maedhros is still doggedly loyal to Feanor. Anyway, this is just me being fixated on your tags, "not wanting maedhros to die a miserable death at morgoth's hands doesn't necessarily equate to total instant and complete forgiveness, "honestly a huge fan of their friendship never fully recovering..." please tell me more. I love your headcanons.
I don't mean to be in opposition to so many popular fandom takes 😅I'm usually not this bad about that...
Sure, maybe Fingon is a saint who harbors no resentment...but I'm not particularly interested in that take. #1, Fingon is presumably made a kinslayer in Alqualonde for the sake of the Feanorians, whom he believed were under unjust assault, but who were, in fact, the aggressors. #2, Although Maedhros does not partake in the burning of the ships at Losgar (something it's implied Fingon learns eventually), neither did he make any effort to stop it, and that decision of the Feanorians' helped condemn the rest of the Noldor host to the Helcaraxe, where, among other things, Fingon's sister-in-law dies. I would say he certainly has grounds to be angry with Maedhros and furthermore, to distrust him going forward.
Not to say these specific things are entirely or even primarily Maedhros' fault...but I think it would be very hard not to be angry with a cousin/close friend who had helped to put you in these positions, particularly depending on how Maedhros handles the situation after their reunion (i.e. whether he apologizes or doubles down or tries to pretend nothing is wrong).
This definitely relates to my general feelings on Maedhros becoming the center of everything in this fandom but yes, the way Fingon orbits around him in so much fanon gets quite old. I'll be honest and say I don't ship Russingon even a tiny bit so it's doubly grating to see Fingon reduced to either Maedhros' hype man (if alive) or his angst-generator (if dead) and have that romance be cast as so core to everything Fingon (or Maedhros!) does. And I do think there can be plenty of crunchy drama even without the romance aspect (Anyone who's had a friendship go sour can probably attest to this).
But in terms of actual character motivation and reactions--I think it's just a lot more interesting if there are actual consequences to Maedhros' actions in terms of a relationship that was really important to him, rather than Fingon just completely forgiving Maedhros everything always so that there's no friction in the relationship.
For one, as I talked about here, their relationship already had problems before the rebellion of the Noldor. How bad things got between them in Tirion is really up to our interpretation, but it is very apparent things were not kosher between them even before Losgar happened, and before Alqualonde. I can't imagine that doesn't color later events between them.
For another, Fingon's motivations in seeking Maedhros out in Thangorodorim were political. They were also personal, but the first motivation mentioned in his decision to seek Maedhros as Melkor's prisoner is to reunite the Noldor. And as I mentioned in those tags, just because he didn't want Maedhros to die a miserable death or experience indefinite torment at Melkor's hands doesn't necessarily mean he forgave him, or even still considered him a friend. MOST of us would not want to see someone we know suffer Maedhros' fate, regardless of what they had done to us.
"Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war...Fingon had been close in friendship with Maedhros...Therefore he dared a deed which is justly renowned among the feats of the princes of the Noldor." ("Of the Return of the Noldor")
If nothing else, I imagine their relationship was always complicated after this. To your point above, Maedhros is deeply committed to fulfilling the oath of his father, and as the Nolofinweans and Arafinweans were there when the Feanorians swore to deal death on anyone handling a Silmaril, they have to be aware of at least the possibility that that may cause trouble someday (I'm sure they did not anticipate the scale or severity).
So Fingolfin, Fingon's father, is king (thanks to Maedhros)...but Maedhros is loyal to his oath above all else. And Maedhros still holds considerable sway over the Feanorians (I would venture to say it's a common theory if not outright knowledge that, should push come to shove, the Feanorians will obey Maedhros, not Fingolfin). How does Fingon feel about that?
To me, these things, in addition to Maedhros' earlier behavior (being part of the initial kinslaying at Alqualonde, not trying to stop the burning of the swan ships) mean that Fingon can never fully trust Maedhros again. There will always be at least a sliver of doubt and mistrust there, wondering at Maedhros' ulterior motives, at his end-game plans. And I don't think Maedhros is very good at making this not the case because he is always trying to play 5-D chess, and he's not always sneaky about it.
That bit above about how the Feanorians are loyal to Maedhros over Fingolfin? I imagine that goes doubly when Fingon becomes high king. Whatever respect the sons of Feanor might have had for Fingolfin as their elder they almost certainly do not have for their young cousin. And I do love takes where Maedhros (successfully or unsuccessfully) sees Fingon as far more malleable than Fingolfin and is trying to manipulate him from behind the scenes. (Particularly if this interacts with any insecurities Fingon may have about his abilities as king--to think that even Maedhros sees him as a weak ruler/weaker than his father!)
I don't mean to suggest they were never close again after the rebellion (although you could perhaps make the case), but that there was never the same level of trust, ease, and companionship in that friendship that there had been before. Forever after, there was always political calculus involved, because of the kingship, because of the oath, because of Maedhros' refusal to disavow the actions of his family (Admittedly--we don't know what position he took on Alqualonde or Losgar afterwards; it's never stated or even implied, iirc. However, based on his response to Celegorm and Curufin's attempted coup against Finrod [nothing] and the attempted assault of Luthien [nothing] and attempted murder of Beren [nothing], I will extrapolate the headcanon that he was not keen to admit to either of the earlier instances as being a mistake.)
Anyway to me it's sooo tasty if they stayed (sort of) friends and yet there was this unspoken mistrust that was always there after that, perhaps alongside a kind of golden nostalgia for the "old days" of their friendship.
(Also juicy drama to me if Fingon becomes a lot closer with Finrod than he had been in Aman due to Helcaraxe trauma/responsibility bonding and Maedhros has to grind his teeth and live with the fact that Fingon trusts Finrod more than he trusts Maedhros now. And lots of love for fans who also explore Fingon's canonical friendship with Aegnor and Angrod! )
There's also the fact that Fingon bites the dust before the worst of Maedhros' actions. I simply cannot see Fingon justifying the assault on Doriath, or Sirion, or the kidnapping of Elrond and Elros, or the assault on Eonwe's Elven guard. Absolutely, there is grief in seeing someone you loved and valued become someone you cannot support, but I can never buy into post-Mandos takes where Fingon just handwaves everything Maedhros did after Fingon's death.
So yes, there it is. Maedhros and Fingon's political drama charged friendship fallout.
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eemcintyre · 3 months
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I am getting real tired of the modern, technology-driven notion that everyone has to be constantly available to everyone in their life.
Like, if it's an emergency I will be there for you 100%, but I have now had multiple friendships/relation-ish-ships end (all with men btw- coincidence...?) because I didn't text them back right away, every day, multiple times a day.
Am I the only one who thinks that this is, at best, ridiculously needy, and at worst, ridiculously entitled behavior?? This level of clinginess and insecurity (that somehow is my responsibility to reassure???) is a huge turn-off.
Not only do I think it's important and healthy for everyone to be comfortable spending some amount of time alone with their own thoughts, but I *especially* have always needed a lot of solitude and independence (idk maybe it comes from how controlled I was as a child and how few friends I had, but that's a whole other tangent right there). I require room to do my own thing, and while I love my friends and they are important to me, I'm not totally dependent on them and every ounce of my happiness and self-worth doesn't hinge on them. Honestly, the more someone tries to cling to me and rein me in, the more I feel compelled to distance myself. I need to know that I am free.
Anyway, this seems to intimidate a lot of people who are immature and not secure in themselves and are still suffering from unresolved past trauma that they are projecting onto me. They find it intimidating that even though I can want someone in my life and like or love them, I don't need them in it to survive because I am ultimately comfortable with myself and know my value enough now to not compromise who I am just to keep them in my life. They find it scary and foreign that I don't need constant reassurance and don't have the energy or will to provide it; that I can be content doing my own thing. Aka me having my own separate life in addition to our relationship and enjoying alone time = I don't care about them at all.
I need someone with the maturity, emotional intelligence, and self-esteem to realize that not everything is about them- I have more than one person in my life, I have a job, I have hobbies, etc., and even just because I am not busy at a point in time doesn't mean that time is *free* time. That is recharge and contemplation time.
I have even, against my better judgment, tried compromising my own boundaries to accommodate these people's insecurities and needs, and it didn't work. It's never enough. Also why does it always have to be me who compromises and makes the changes, and not them? Why don't they have to try and work on themselves to become less dependent on others and more secure? Why is it me who always has to drain all of my energy with forced, ingenuine conversation and interaction and trying to heal the past issues of other grown adults that they are projecting onto me?
I'm sick of my boundaries being disrespected. You are valid if it mentally drains you to be in constant contact with other people, and you are no less of a kind, caring person and good friend or partner for being that way. Like, it has nothing to do with you; I just recharge from spending time alone where I can think and exist without being observed or obligated to entertain others; being able to do exactly what I feel like, analyze my thoughts, or enjoy the quiet. Honestly, most people who require more contact (to a reasonable and non-codependent degree) are valid too; I just think both groups need to either compromise equally in relationships or seek out people who are more like-minded rather than existing in constant strife trying to change and/or make each other understood.
I know that I am a good, kind, friendly, and generous lady who brings a lot to the table, and I am sick of trying to convince people of it. If they want to leave because they can't handle physical and mental personal space, then no hard feelings at the end of the day but they are absolutely welcome to. I'm tired of letting people guilt and disparage and try to change me when I'm not doing anything wrong.
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