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#i can’t even describe the level of exhausted I am anymore
zeleniafic · 2 years
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****just to be 100% clear, this has nothing to do with the recent callouts. that individual and their many offshoot blogs have been blocked for awhile now. get’em, anna. it’s also not about the revolving door of anon bullshit. anons have never gotten to me - but my own brain, on the other hand...****
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i think..... i’m going to be off tumblr for... a while? idk. i’m just so... deeply exhausted. i have never been truly well but i am decidedly less well now than previously, to such an extent that i don’t have the brainpower to hide it behind humor anymore. i feel like i am just a black hole of negative feelings and idk why anyone would want to interact with me when all of my shit is just... so bleak, because the ONLY stories i have any kind of inspiration to tell right now is extremely thinly veiled vent writing about things i should be talking about with the trauma counselor i was recommended to see but can’t because i can’t drive myself there without having a panic attack. i feel like i can’t hold any kind of conversation or connect with anyone without making it awkward or traumadumping, so why on earth would anyone want to talk to me??? it’s always just the same old shit i still haven’t processed from the last time we talked. and likewise for all of my works, i don’t want to post shit sitting in my drafts rn because tagging people in it feels like i’m shoving my diary in your face and any response it gets is just borne out of pity or some sense of obligation.
it just feels so fucking embarrassing at this point. i’ve always felt inadequate on here, none of these feelings are new, idk why it’s hitting SO HARD right now. maybe it’s the adhd meds i’m trying not getting along with me (god knows they’ve slaughtered my appetite and reignited the eating disorder i thought i’d buried). i actually have no idea how to tell if this is meds or just my fucked up brain. i’ve always been tired, i’ve always had s. ideation on some level of passive to active for the majority of my life since... idk, somewhere in my early teens???? who knows, certainly not MY shattered memory, but the point is none of this is new. i guess that’s the crux of the problem. none of this is new.
i got diagnosed with ptsd last month. i turned 24 last week. i have virtually no relationship with my family, no degree, no path forward in life, and i keep doing worse and worse and worse in my classes no matter how hard i try to focus on them. birthdays have always been rough but i guess this one came packaged with a mental breakdown over the realization that i am getting further and further behind in life and i STILL don’t know what to do with it, because i don’t know how to make it feel worth living knowing that i’m just... always going to be weighed down by my past no matter how hard i push it to the back of my mind.
GOD idk what i’m even saying here anymore, i don’t know how to wrap this up. i don’t know what i’m doing. sorry. i’m so dissociated out of my fucking mind 99% of the time lately i don’t even know how to fucking communicate, i can barely even keep up with what day of the week it is. i just feel so... numb. my psychiatrist said that’s the ptsd, but my mother called me a psycho when i tried to describe dissociation so you can take your pick between those two i guess.
TLDR: i’ve been using stories/characters as a vent outlet for forever now but it feels so OBVIOUS at this point and i can’t stand feeling so... exposed. i feel guilty for not having the energy to keep up with what i’m tagged in, but even if i didn’t... i feel like anything i say or post or show on here is just so loaded with baggage it’s got a net negative impact on anyone who witnesses it. i already feel like dogshit and i feel worse and worse every time i’m on here so, i’m just... gonna stay off here. i guess.
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(on the off chance anyone actually reads all this, this isn’t like, a cry for help or anything??? don’t freak out and panic message me or smthn. it’s just... idk. an apology, i guess?? i’ve always felt like my entire existence requires an apology lmfao. i feel like i’m failing by not being present to support the ppl i love on here. which is weird bc i simultaneously feel like my absence would be a weight off their backs. isn’t that a lovely fucking contradiction my brain loves to hold onto.)
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hanarchy · 1 year
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i hate group events so much and it’s not because I’m bad at them or I dislike the people. I’m listened to, I can do small talk, I can do longer and more serious conversations, I can connect to people on some level, I know I’m respected at least by most of them, I even know that pretty much everyone likes me. I don’t fall out of the pattern at all, I can find something to talk about with almost anyone, I know I read social cues well. People tell me I’m kind and smart and they love having me around.
But I just also very distinctly feel like I will never be one of them. I don’t know how to describe it further or how to even quantify it and i know it sounds like some middle school angst shit but it’s just like. I’m just not part of the group in the same way as everyone else. And I know some people who have found their people and don’t care about that anymore and that’s all good and well but I don’t want that. I have also found my people. A few of you are a part of it and a few real life friends and I feel accepted by my family and it’s all ok.
But this kind of thing happens to me a lot and it’s like a new heartbreak every time. I really can’t describe it better than that because it’s not a passing sadness. It’s the existential knowledge and awareness that I am not like them and the realisation that they know as well as I do. I don’t think they can qualify it either because they also see a sociable, nice and present person but on some level they do recognise that I am just not there in the same way.
And all they can do to react to it is to extend the same kindness you would to an exhausted or overstimulated child. All they know how to respond with is a vague feeling of pity. I don’t know if it’s even conscious for them, but they do talk to me like I’m a child.
And both of these things combined just make me feel so pathetic. Once again I have no better way to put it but it’s just so damn pathetic and pitiful to be good at all the moves, to be a good listener and a place of comfort and someone people trust enough to tell all their biggest worries to and still just. Never be one of them. Never be part of the group in the same way, never be able to be understood in the same way as you understand.
Bc I think that’s the thing. I understand all these people, I really do. That’s why I don’t hate or dislike anyone. I have a lot of opinions on a lot of them, I have a lot of opinions on everyone, but I do also understand where they’re coming from. I can see myself react in the same way if I was in their shoes. But they never seem to understand me.
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raeathnos · 3 years
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#I feel like I’ve been stuck in burn out for forever#i can’t even describe the level of exhausted I am anymore#I feel like no matter how much sleep I get I’m still tired#and it always seems that no matter how tired I am that I can’t fall asleep when it’s time for bed#or if I do sleep it’s only briefly and then I lie in bed awake for hours#I feel like my diets gone to shit#I’m trying to eat healthy but there’s only so much I can do with how poor I am#my parents only want to buy junk food#it’s carbs or sugar here#I can’t tell you what I’d do for some well seasoned veggies or a tiny bit of steak#they’re not good cooks- everything is dry or bland#no money to buy what I want and I’m too tired after work to cook anyways#my back is barely healing- I have another doctors appointment tomorrow and I bet they’re going to tell me more physical therapy#I don’t think it’s helping but it’s workers comp so no one cares#I feel like I’m drawing in to myself#I feel so fragile in the state I’m in- one negative thing and I feel like I’m going to shatter#which is rough around here- I’m only ever put down anymore I feel like#don’t want to go to work don’t want to be home can’t sleep#all I want to do is run off into the forest where is calm and quiet and I can rest and hear myself think#I’m so overwhelmed and I don’t know how to deal with it#I’m halfway to my savings goal and it’s hasn’t quite been a year yet#maybe by next year this time I’ll be there and things will be looking up#right now I’m just very tired and very lost#maybe it will fade when springs melts it all away
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wlw-peachylsbn · 3 years
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i think i need some fresh air (feeling under pressure) (narcissa malfoy x reader)
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A/N: okay, so my only notes for this fic was "narcissa reads you poems while you suck her tiddy? mommy kink yay". so that's what you're going to get! thanks to @daffodilmoons for inspiring me with their post here!
we have some mommy kink (yes, i am predictable go away), a bit of tit sucking, and fluff.
You sigh, tossing the covers off as you sit up, rubbing your eyes. The clock hanging on the wall reads 2:34 a.m. Great.
You turn to look at Narcissa, a smile instantly coming to your face. She’s sound asleep, of course, but she looks like some sort of angel, her blonde hair tumbling in waves, a peaceful expression on her face. You quietly take her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips, before stealing her robe and padding to the living room. You’ve never been more grateful that her manor is so large. You can just wander around with little chance of waking up.
Of course, you find your way to the library. Multiple bookshelves tower over you, and the soft carpet muffles your footsteps as you take your favourite seat. It’s a plushy, cherry red chair by the window that sticks out from the elegant, silver decor. Narcissa ordered it for you after a playful argument (darling, I love the comfort factor, but it doesn’t match!), and you fell in love at first sight. Or first seat.
A table rests at the side of your chair, adorned with your favourite books and trinkets, and a glass of cold water (on top of a coaster, of course). You take a book of poetry—love poems—and idly flip through the pages before tossing it back onto the table. Usually, you can lose yourself in poetry, but tonight, you just feel restless.
You grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around your shoulders as you stand up, looking out the window. It’s a bit of a chilly evening, but it’s quiet. There are no more of those damned peacocks, just some birds calling and the rustle of the wind. The moon is shining brightly, too.
You sigh, tightening your hold on the blanket that smells like Narcissa. You’ve been having trouble sleeping for the past few days, with nightmares waking you up or simple insomnia. It seems like tonight is the latter.
You sigh again. Life just sucks sometimes! No way around it. School has been an absolute bitch lately. With finals coming up, and multiple projects and essays due, your stress levels are extremely high. Every day makes you come closer to your deadlines. You don’t want your grades to slip, but you’ve spent every waking moment hunched over your desk, your quill scribbling. You haven’t even had time for dates with Narcissa, even.
You slump against the window. The sword of Damocles hangs over your head, and you’re keenly aware of every slipping inch. You know you shouldn’t overthink, but still, your mind falls down a negative rabbit hole with no rope to hold onto.
Dark whispers infiltrate your mind, and the demons in the shadows tip-toe forward, ready to grab you in their claws. You can’t even muster up any courage to fight back; you just allow them to control.
Until you feel a hand on your shoulder. You know who it is. Your love, Narcissa, of course. You would know her blind or deaf, by the warmth of her hand and the softness of her footsteps.
When you turn to face her, the monsters fade away. Her hair is like her halo, and the way she’s smiling at you can only be described as angelic. She’ll protect you; she always does.
“Cissa,” you breathe.
“Darling. What on Earth are you doing up so late?”
“I thought it was early?”
“Early or late, there’s no reason for you to be up at this hour.” She tsks, and although it’s meant to reprimand you, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. She’s worried about you; she cares about you.
“I know. I just couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Why ever not?”
“You looked too beautiful to disturb.”
“Oh, hush.” Narcissa rolls her eyes, but you still spot the pleased smile she tries to hide. “I don’t want you to hide from me. Your troubles are my troubles. I can help you, do you understand?”
You glance away, squinting at the door over her shoulder. “I know, I know….”
“Good. You’re not alone, not anymore.” She takes a seat in your favourite chair and tugs your waist, making you tumble into her lap.
A laugh escapes you as you shift to get more comfortable. “Cissa! What was that for?”
“Because I wanted you close,” she replies simply. “Now, what’s been keeping you up at night, darling? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. You’ve been eating less and less and working more and more.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you.”
“I know you don’t. I never said you were. But I am rather worried.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine. Please don’t worry anymore.” The lie slips out without your consent, and judging by her raised eyebrow, Narcissa doesn’t believe you one bit.
“Don’t you remember what I just said?”
“Yes, we’re a team, my troubles are yours, blah blah.” You wiggle closer, moving her silk robe to the side so you can nuzzle into the soft skin revealed.
“ ‘Blah blah?’ And is that my robe?” She tsks again. “It seems you’ve developed a bit of an attitude, little one.”
“Me? I don’t have an attitude!” You ignore how her nickname makes you shiver, instead pressing a kiss to her neck again. “I don’t, Cissa.”
“Well, if you’re a good girl, then you’ll tell me what’s wrong.”
You sigh loudly but rest against her chest, closing your eyes. You’re tired. You’re always so tired. But you push through your exhaustion and say, “I’m just really stressed because of school. I was having a good start to the semester, but now, I’m feeling pretty burnt out. I don’t want to disappoint …”
“Disappoint?” she prompts. “Finish your thought, sweetheart.”
“Disappoint my family. Disappoint me.” You swallow. “Disappoint you.”
“Oh, honey.” The kindness in her tone makes you grip her robe in your fists, trying to stop yourself from crying. “Sweetheart, it’s alright. Everything is going to be alright. Look at me. Look at me, please.”
You don’t want to, but she grabs your chin gently, tugging so you’re looking into each other’s eyes. You can’t imagine how you look, hair mussed up, dark eye bags, and a slowly escaping tear. But Narcissa looks at you tenderly as ever, reaching up to wipe your tear away. “You won’t disappoint me.”
“But—”
“Hush. You could never disappoint me. Never. Especially over a grade. I just want you to try your best. That’s all.”
“Everyone says that but—what if my best is not enough? I’ll be a failure, Mommy.” To your utter humiliation, the nickname you associate with comfort and safety slips out. You bury your head in the crook of her neck again, this time intending to never leave.
“Sometimes, the things we love and work hard for, don’t work out. That has nothing to do with our failures or triumphs, simply that the time wasn’t quite right.” Her hand comes up to rub your back in long, smooth strokes, thankfully not commenting on your Freudian slip. “Your grades have nothing to do with you as a person. They are a separate entity, completely. The only things that define us are the things we allow, understand?”
You nod shakily. “ ‘m still really worried.”
“I know, my love. I’m not expecting that fear to go away in five minutes. But if you allow me to stay by your side, I swear I will always be your support when you fall. Always.”
“Always,” you whisper. A seed of hope worms its way to your chest. With Narcissa by your side, how can you do anything but fight?
“But we can plan tomorrow, darling. Our goal for tonight is to get some sleep.”
You nod, already half-asleep on her chest. The exhaustion you’ve been pushing away slams into you like a ton of bricks, and you yawn. “M’kay.”
“Shall I read you some poems? I know you love them.”
“If you don’t mind, Mommy.”
“Of course I don’t, darling girl.” Her hair tickles your cheek as she leans forward to grab the book you were reading earlier. “Would you like to hear Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning?”
“Mhm.”
“ ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.’ ”
You know the next line by heart. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. It’s quite close to how you feel about Narcissa, but not entirely. There are no words for how you feel for her. Sometimes the truest feelings are the hardest to put into words because there simply are no words. But it’s close. And you think she knows.
Narcissa’s voice is so lovely. Husky from sleep and soft and melodic. She has a perfect reading voice. She’s perfect.
You shift, a little whine leaving your mouth. You’re on the verge of falling asleep, but you’re missing one key thing.
“Oh, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Tired?”
You nod, snuggling closer to her.
“That’s alright, dear heart. Just rest now.”
“Mommy,” you whine again. You don’t want to say it, so you grasp her robe and tug, exposing her breast. “Please?”
“Oh, I see now, darling. You just want Mommy’s help to fall asleep, don’t you, lovely?” Narcissa coos, pulling her robe more to the side. “I know, baby, I know. Come here.”
Finally. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You eagerly latch your mouth on her nipple, closing your eyes and sucking.
She laughs quietly, running her hand through your hair, playing with the ends. “Slow down, darling. Just relax now. Mommy’s got you.”
You nod, eyes half-lidded. The bud in your mouth hardens with every suck or lick, and it is arousing, to an extent, but it’s mostly just … comforting. There’s something you can focus all your attention on, something that’s anchoring you. You keep sucking, listening to Narcissa read, and finally allow yourself to fall asleep.
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pandoricpies · 3 years
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SSO Horrors
A post diving into how dark this franchise’s storyline gets and ideas for a horror game that will never actually be created. SPOILERS for the SL books and SSO storyline.
This idea originally came to me after reading the second book of the SL trilogy, The Legend Awakens. Props to Helena Dahlgren for the Pine Hill Manor scenes in that book; I was completely left on the edge of my seat the entire time. Linda’s whole experience was definitely an unexpected thriller for the children’s genre; cutting her leg on a broken window, exploring an old creepy mansion owned by the centuries-old psychopath that was targeting her, her friends, and their horses, being chased down halls and having to barricade herself in rooms to be protected from the apparent non-human dark riders (not to mention the way Dahlgren describes the animal sounds and scratching that they made, chills), and, to top it all off, nearly dying from sepsis due to her cut becoming infected.... if that’s not horror game material, I don’t know what is.
If you can’t already tell from the title of this post, I am a huge fan of the horror genre. The suspense-packed and often deep moral stories are always a fun watch/read. I personally am currently making my way through some classic Stephen King books that I haven’t read yet which was sort of what inspired this post.
Taking a look at SSO’s storyline on the surface level, we see a classic dark vs. light story, with horses and female heroines as the main points. However, there are quite a few darker elements hidden among the story quests, most of which would only be noticeable to the eye of the older audience of the game. The potential for this plot to be upped to a more mature level as far as darker themes go is definitely there. Regardless, the already existing underlying themes have some heavy themes...
- Teenagers, around the ages of 15-19, have been tasked with saving the world from a demonic entity. They have been granted special powers to do this with. These powers however can be extremely dangerous, as we see with both Alex and Catherine with their Lightning Circle incidents, in which they almost killed living beings. These factors combined would no doubt take some sort of psychological toll on the Soul Riders, as they are so named.
- Brainwashing and cult-mindset was a huge theme brought up with Justin’s kidnapping. He was abruptly cut off from the outside world, had his memories removed, and his mind artificially filled with thoughts of Garnok and world domination. It’s clear when he is rescued and goes back to his home that he’s depressed; his Midsummer dialogue a year back was “My dad thought it would be good for me to get out. I don’t do that much anymore” (not exact but close enough). When he talks to his mother during the memories quests the first thing he jumps to seeing her pregnant with him is “I wonder if she’d would be so excited if she knew all the terrible things I did”. To add to that, upon getting Justin back home, Thomas tells our character “If he keeps having these dark thoughts, I’ll have to turn to the druids.” That in itself was pretty unsettling. All this dialogue was put there to draw attention to the mental affects of literally having your brain tampered with.
- Elizabeth’s story was probably one of the saddest in my opinion. She had to stand by while her friend group fell apart, one going on to die, one going missing, and the other two continuing to split away from her. She then felt it was her responsibility to make up for her sisterhood’s failures, staying with the druids and eventually helping recruit new Soul Riders. Seriously though, imagine that. She saw what pain the magical war brought to her and her friends; knowing that she was pushing four more kids into a situation like that would’ve been devastating (here comes the morals vs. duty idea). Our character must have been a whole other level of that feeling. She saw what Catherine went through with her magic - the fear, the near madness. Then of course she goes on to imprison her close friend’s son (it appeared from the quests that she was closest to Catherine so that just adds to the pain). And to end it all, she sacrifices herself to save a girl who she considered a daughter.... jeez. - Catherine is another issue here for obvious reasons. A teenage girl is entrusted with goddess-level powers, then nearly goes psycho from the inability to control them. You can clearly tell from her last few diary entries how exhausting that was and how happy she was to finally have a somewhat normal life with her husband and son.
- And finally of course we have the DC gang. Mr. Sands is a basket case all on his own, a man who has used mind control (arguably in my opinion one of the creepiest forms of dark magic out there) on numerous victims including his own grandson, a man who legitimately worships a demon, and not to mention has it out for a bunch of teenagers. His whole backstory with Rosalinda made me feel some sort of sympathy for his character (he watched her nearly be drowned to death), and I’m actually quite curious as to where they’re going to take that. Also, The Nightmare Institute? That could be a horror game within itself. All we know so far about that place is that humans and animals are tested on with dangerous materials (ex. Mr. Anwir). Let’s not forget to mention the dark riders who apparently have animal qualities now? (as it was described in the SL books) Ok so we can clearly see that SSO’s storyline gets a bit dark. But just imagine; a Pine Hill Mansion first-person POV game, where you’re in a situation similar to Linda’s, or even one in DC or the Nightmare Institute. Honestly this entire storyline could be turned into some Resident Evil plot lol.
But that being said, as much as it’s fun to speculate these types of things, I enjoy SSO’s storyline just the way it is. It’s enjoyable for me as an older player, but it’s also filled with great moral stories and motivation for young children, especially girls. I love the atmosphere of female empowerment, and it’s especially unique to SSO because around the time of it’s initial release, that wasn’t seen much in video games.
Might start during these ‘chat’ or ‘random things that come to my mind’ posts more often.
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antigonick · 3 years
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hi! sorry if this is super weird or annoying, but i wanted to ask you smth. im an english lit major (not an anglophone tho), im a bit more than halfway through with college but i know im falling behind. but that's not the question is it! haha. well, my woes aside, this past semester i got some feedback on two (very rushed :() final papers and both times i didnt get a bad grade but i was told that my essays were descriptive, rather than analytic or critical. how do you think i can improve this?++
++ im scared of just being stupid lol :( i honestly got super bummed out by the feedback, although i was expecting those exact comments :/ i struggle to give my papers that critical twist (which is kinda the entire point), and i guess my question is how can i incorporate more critical sources and theory into my papers and not spend pages upon pages describing things? i can never even get a good thesis statement, i realize now i am totally venting over here and im sorry i just dony know what  to do or how to improve and i feel like im running out of time and i know i SHOULD know these things by now :( i come to you with this sad story made even sadder by my pms (rip) because i love your analysis on texts and i think you are so smart and eloquent and precise!!! again, i hope that wasn't super annoying or overwhelming and i'm sorry if it was! Anyway, I hope you're doing amazing, I love your blog and your mind!! Thank you so much :)
Alright! So first of all, don’t be scared of being stupid—you’re not and it’d be crippling to think so, because that mindset gets you running around in circles. You know your situation is completely normal, right? In analysis, there’s one shitty little fucker of a porch-step where every student will stumble, and it’s exactly this: climbing from the merely descriptive to the involved critical.
At one point it clicks into place and you feel the difference in your brain.
You say you never have a good thesis statement, and I think that might be where your thinking process jams a little. Of course you’d remain descriptive if you don’t have a pointed question at the moment of writing.
It’s not about either/or between critical and descriptive. The way I see it, description is fundamental: it comes back several times during your analytical process. It’s the basis of it. First you look at the text, or a phenomenon, or what have you, and you become aware of its cogs—this is exploration, description. By becoming aware of said cogs, you excavate how they work together—mechanics, motifs, recurring techniques. This is where descriptive meets criticism. Why are these effects/devices/topics here? What do they offer? How do they make me feel, and what are my bias, so why am I feeling that way specifically? Is it the same for everybody? What could they hint at? How are they working now, and do they evolve later? What genre, or theme, or overarching idea do they develop?
You’re not merely looking at them anymore, you’re questioning them. You’re building your own interpretation of them. And careful—it’s not an opinion. You’re not reviewing it. It’s a study, an examination, subjective because it’s yours and you’re the subject who is critically thinking, but rooted in the reality of the text, in the intellectual or emotional pathways it opens.
When you’ve pinpointed the main ideas and dynamics you want to explore, that’s when you get your thesis statement/thesis question. I can’t stress this enough, you need one before you launch into writing. It’s what will make you go further than just describing, and it’s what will orient your argument. And remember, it doesn’t have to be (no: it won’t be) exhaustive. It’s much better to focus on something tiny and contained at first, actually. Pick a lane and stick to it. 
Random example, but the only thing I’m reading with happiness these days is Fallen Hero: Retribution, so let’s use this. There’s a lot in there, and a lot of insights going in a lot of directions, notwithstanding the analysis you could make of the style itself. Out of the thousand questions you could ask about it, let’s focus on one: “How does this work modelise gender?”
With this question, you can explore a lot of aspects: stylistics—how words depict gender, how pronouns are used, how bodies are described; societal—how the characters interact with the idea of gender, how gender and gender image are dealt with in the world the text inhabits, and in the story itself; narratology—how does gender impact the story, is it an agent of it?; and much more. But these are descriptors. These are the signs and symbols and tools you’ve already garnered, consciously and unconsciously, when you read and analysed your text.
Here comes the little fucker of a porch-step. You have all of these descriptors, these facts. You know how to describe them well and most likely interpret them at surface level. But they’re means to an end, not an end in themselves. They’re just your tools. Now that you know they’re there, you have to use them to go further and explain what they’re doing. With our example, that means explaining not only how gender works in the story, but why. What might it mean for the author and their own world-view? What might it mean for the reader and what impacts can we expect? What might it mean for the characters and what effects does it lead to? Why is it important? Why is it groundbreaking? How does it differ from other works like this, where does it go further than most? Are there blindspots, pitfalls? What do those mean too?
Of course description makes a comeback in your arguments, in your examples: it’s not left behind. The analytical process is not a pyramid or a hierarchised structure, it’s a circle/cycle. You use description to reach criticism and you use criticism to explain description and you use description to justify criticism. 
I think that’s it? I hope this helps and I hope this makes sense. Good luck!!
PS: I find that reading critical works helps a lot, just because you get the hang of it through seeing analysis in practice rather than just hearing about methodology. Obviously, before you write an essay about a text, read a few critical works about the text itself! More about this here.
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gyll-yee-haw · 3 years
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Take care of you.
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Prompt: it's your husband's first long travel since your wedding. You both just can't wait to see each other again.
Warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, breeding kink all over it, daddy kink, a bit of size kink maybe, 2 smuts in one, degradating and praising, multiple orgasms, overestimation.… I know, but its still fluffy, I swear
Fluffy warnings: Jake wearing THAT^ outfit. You washing his long hair. Like... him loving his wifey sm.... I'm unstable
Like 3k words.
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You were living a never ending honeymoon. Even after you and Jake came back home from your official one, nothing changed. Still had that same sweet energy.
And that only made it even harder when he had to say goodbye. Yeah, it was only for a month, and he definitely had been away for longer periods of time, but right now… it was painful because you both had to admit to yourselves that your honeymoon was over and real life started.
You missed each other so badly. You cried on the phone more than once. But you knew he loved his job. And you loved to support him.
Felt like it took ages, but the day of his return finally came. You barely slept the night before it. You missed his sleepy voice in the morning. His jokes and his weird behavior, cause he just felt so comfortable around you. And you obviously missed the fact that everything always turned into sex these days. Wherever you looked at in that house, Jake had already fucked you there. Your heart craved his presence and your body craved his touch. You didn't even know which one was more urgent... all you knew was that it all together was making you desperate.
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Jake felt the same way. He wanted to hug you and he wanted to shove his cock inside you so bad, all at once. He texted you from the taxi, saying he was 20 minutes away.
'I can't wait, tell the driver to hurry up, please.' You texted him back.
As a reply, all you got was a pic of the bulge in his pants. You shivered. You couldn't believe that would be inside you in a few minutes. You decided to tease him back:
'If you're already that hard, imagine how you'll feel when you see how fucking wet I am right now. So much, daddy… it's running down my thighs, I swear… need you here quickly, I promised you I wouldn't touch myself, but...'
He groaned frustratedly and decided to stay off his phone for now. You were already making him throb painfully, and he knew pretty well how wild the teasing could get between the two of you.
---
He planned on fucking you hard even before he opened the front door and found you in nothing but his shirt.
I said nothing.
You knew he was coming and there was no time to waste, so…
You ran towards the door for a hug that quickly became a messy kiss. His hands were everywhere, like he was trying to find out if you were real. The truth was that he just didn't know where to touch you first.
Jake pinned you against the wall and you grinded his thigh while he was unzipping his pants, whining loudly cause you were desperate like that.
He grabbed your waist and lifted you a little, so you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You pulled him as close as possible and all you felt was him. His warm embrace, his soft lips on your neck...
He held you against the wall with one hand while he grabbed his cock with the other
He shoved it at once inside you, groaning wild and loudly.
Your face couldn't hide the pain as he started thrusting mercilessly the second his was in.
"What is that, babygirl?" He cooed, and his sweet voice didn't match the eagerness of his hips. "Did you forget how it feels to have daddy inside you? Forget how big I am? Well, I'm back now, so I gotta stretch this tight little pussy open for me again."
You couldn't say anything, all you could do was take every single thing he gave you.
The way his body was pressed against yours made it impossible for him to avoid brushing your clit with his lower abdomen.
"Jake, I'm gonna cum." You told him desperately. You didn't want to do it so fast, but it was impossible to hold it at that point.
"Yes, pretty girl, as loud as you can, I missed hearing you crying out my name…"
Your fingers wrapped around his hair, that was a messy bun at this point, and you came, screaming his name, hoping it would make him cum too.
But not so soon.
Your orgasm only made him want you more. Only made him harder, if that was even possible.
And he didn't give you a second to recover, he kept fucking you like nothing happened, maybe even harder than before.
Your clit was hurting from overestimation, your hips bucked trying to escape the constant pressure, your legs were shaking so much around his body. It felt so good that you had to beg him to stop, you couldn't take all of it.
"Cum inside me, daddy, please, give me your… fuck." You felt the tears in the corner of your eyes as your second orgasm approached.
"My what? You weren't going to say cum, were you, princess?" He smirked. "You were gonna say babies, you want me to knock you the fuck up, huh?"
You weren't even sure what you wanted anymore, but you nodded, moaning loudly as he pounded you through your orgasm.
"I barely came home and you're already begging for my children again, you little slut." He mocked you, but you could tell he was getting close. His movements became messier.
And like he wasn't already absolutely abusing your clit and saying things that could make you cum untouched, he just started hitting that special place inside you that made you dumb for him.
He used all the strength he had left to thrust DEEP and HARD inside you one last time.
Maybe you came for the third time, but you weren't even sure anymore. All you knew was that it was lot.
It was so relieving when his hips stopped and you felt his warm seed filling you up. Fuck, there was SO MUCH of it, it had been so long… you didn't remember ever feeling that full before.
But when he was done, he cursed himself for not doing that in bed, cause he was exhausted on a level that he could barely stand. His legs were weak and he was still buried inside you, his arms on each side of your head on the wall, supporting his weight.
Fuck it, he knew there was no time to get in bed. His cock was too hard, his balls were too full and you looked too hot with his shirt barely hiding the fact that your pussy was free for him to use.
And you were absolutely wrecked. Your pussy was so sore that you were afraid to touch it, even to remove his cock from you.
Maybe it was the post orgasmic bliss, mixed with the feeling or being so close after being separated for so long… but the energy of that moment was unmatched. Unexplainable. You both were feeling that way, and somehow you knew it.
But after Jake caught his breath, he removed himself from you, helping you stand on your feet again, but he still kept one hand on the wall to support his own weight, just in case.
"Babe…" You laughed. "Look at how exhausted you are, it's almost heartbreaking."
He sent you a tired smile.
"Come on, I'll run you a bath, what do you think?" You suggested, kissing his cheek.
"Sounds wonderful." He agreed. "As long as you join me."
"Jacob, you can barely stand, how are you still horny?" You rolled your eyes.
"Didn't mean that." He chuckled. "Just wanna stay close to you. Missed you, baby."
"Missed you too." He brought you for a tight hug and you melted in his arms.
---
When the two of you managed to get upstairs, Jake sat in bed as you prepared the bath.
You walked into the room and found him going through his phone.
"Sorry." He said, without looking at you. "I'll be there in a minute, I'll just…"
When you approached him and realized he was working, you sighed and grabbed his phone.
He looked at you with a confused expression.
"Enough work." You sent him a sad look. "Work kept you away from me for WEEKS. Now it's all about us. Let me take good care of my husband, just for today?"
He couldn't resist you. Anything you asked, the answer was always yes. Specially in this occasion, when there was absolutely nothing he would rather do than spend time with you.
You grabbed his hand and guided him to the bathroom.
He removed his clothes and sat on the warm bubble bath
You only had his old shirt on, so you were able to do the same and join him in a second.
The kind of non sexual intimacy of your naked bodies touching was so relaxing. Jake walked into the house almost an hour ago, but nothing made him feel at home quite like that exact moment.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Just to enjoy the warmth from the water. To wrap his arms around you and feel like the happiest man alive.
But, suddenly, his peace was interrupted by the sound of the water moving and the loss of contact with your body.
You turned around and now sat down facing him.
Watching him with a sweet smile on your face.
You bit your lip and placed your hand on the back of his head, gently undoing the bun his hair was in.
"What are you doing?" He chuckled. "I thought this whole thing about you being eager to have a baby was only kinky stuff, honey. I know how to take a bath."
"Shut up." You laughed, taking a hand full of water to the back of his head, wetting his hair. "I'm just taking care of my husband."
He didn't say or do anything to stop you. So you grabbed the shampoo bottle and applied a little on your hand, proceeding to massage his scalp very gently with the tip of your fingers.
He closed his eyes and relaxed again as you finished washing his hair. You took your time and enjoyed the moment. Jake's hair was soft and he looked absolutely breathtaking like that. Relaxed. Humming softly. His wet golden chain caught your eyes as you watched his chest going up and down slowly. So beautiful. Beautiful couldn't even describe it…
"I love you." You whispered to him.
He smiled and opened his eyes. "I love you too. So much that sometimes I just can't believe you're my wife. Just too good to be truth."
You smiled like a fool and wished that moment could last forever. But the water was getting cold. So you stood up and wrapped a towel around your body.
"Where are you going?" He protested.
"Come on, let's put some clean clothes on, I miss movie night and cuddles on the sofa." You suggested.
---
Jake was sitting on the sofa in his grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. You always told him that was his softest outfit and it was just perfect for cuddling. Heaven couldn't compare to that feeling... your head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you.
The tv was only background noise, cause he was actually looking at you. When you felt his gaze, you looked back at him, your eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" You asked. "Jesus, looks like you haven't seen me in like... a month?"
"I could spend my whole life looking at you and I still wouldn't have enough." He said, caressing your cheek with two fingers.
You stood like that for a while, looking at each other's eyes while he stroked your cheeks softly. Then his fingers started to move down to your chin. Then to your lips. You parted them a bit and Jake slid his fingers inside your mouth slowly.
You nibbled them gently with your front teeth until he moved them deeper inside your mouth, placing them on your tongue. He started moving them in lazy circles. All without losing eye contact. It was so intense that you left out a moan without even noticing it.
"What's on your mind, babygirl?" He smiled.
You grabbed his wrist and removed his fingers from your mouth, sucking them on the process.
"What you said earlier in the bathroom." You admitted. "And by the front door too. Thinking about you getting me pregnant, wouldn't that be nice?"
"Fuck, y/n..." He smirked. "Is this still only kinky stuff?"
"Yeah, for now it is." You said, straddling his lap. "Just wanna make you hard. Be the only one who gets to call you daddy just for now."
Those sweatpants weren't only good for cuddling. It was also amazing to feel his hard cock through them.
"Yes, pretty girl, I love it when you call me daddy." He kissed you passionately, while his hands traveled your body, ending up on your clothed core. His fingers barely brushed your clit through your panties and you left out a little "ouch".
"You still didn't even recover from how good I fucked you last time and you already want more, my greedy little slut." He chuckled.
"Yeah, I fucking missed you." You shrugged. "And we're not gonna fuck again, we're gonna make love now."
"Who said that?" He raised his eyebrows. "What if I want to fuck you?"
His fingers insisted on touching your clit until you started getting used to it.
"Be gentle with me, daddy, please." You begged. "Need your love, not just your cock."
If he wasn't convinced already, the way you asked made him change his mind.
"Okay, baby." He pulled his pants down and grabbed his cock, beautiful hard again. "Why don't you ride me nice and slow, then?"
You nodded, raising your hips a little, so he could help you remove your panties. He tossed them on the floor and his fingers went back to your core, spreading your folds and running his fingers through them until you were wet enough. He slid two fingers inside you and you started rocking your hips softly. He removed his fingers from you too suddenly, and your pussy automatically clenched around nothing.
You sent him a pleading look, but he was too busy licking his fingers. You waited. But your suffering didn't last very long, he quickly grabbed his cock and gave it a few strokes before aligning it with your pussy. He held it dangerously close and teased your entrance a bit. When the head was in, he left you do the job.
You lowered yourself on his cock slowly. Inch by inch like you didnt want to miss a single detail, a single vein. Your tight hole embraced all of his thick length. The last time he stretched you up wasn't that long ago, but you still needed to adjust to his size. You held on to his hair, that was still wet, and started moving your hips.
"Just ike that, my angel." He whispered, placing his hands on your hips and guiding them up and down slowly. "Nice and slow, good girl."
You managed to keep that slow sensual pace with him praising you and telling you that you were the love of his life every 10 seconds. But only until he was getting close. His words turned into incoherent moans and his fingers digged into your hips, which you understood as a sign to go a little faster.
Your 4th release that night was approaching. You felt like you would fall apart when you reached it, but you still needed it. After all… what's the problem of falling apart when you're in your lover's arms?
You two came almost at the same time. You were connected just like that. He held your body close and you fell on his chest, completely weak. But, one more time, Heaven couldn't compare. Sitting on his lap, his cock still inside you, after barely coming down from your high. Your head resting on his chest, on his soft sweatshirt, his cologne mixed with the smell of sex in the air.
He didn't want to leave that place. Didn't matter if it would be for a month again, of even for a second. He was fully aware at that moment that you were the most important thing in his life.
He gently removed you from his lap, placing you on the sofa, and fixed his clothes before standing up. You were absolutely exhausted and didn't move a muscle, just sat on the sofa on the exact same position he left you. He chuckled and leaned close to you, placing one arm on your back and the other under your legs. Your arms automatically wrapped around his shoulders and he picked you up.
"What are you doing?" You yawned and rested your head on his shoulder.
"It's my turn now." He smiled and kissed your forehead. "I'm taking care of my wife."
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ayybtch · 3 years
Text
Alcoholic Juice Box
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Bucky Barnes x f!Reader
Summary: Adulthood sucks. You know what doesn’t suck? Blanket forts and alcoholic juice boxes.
Word count: 1,773
Warnings: Liberal use of the word ‘fuck’ and variations of the word ‘fuck’, brief mention of financial troubles, brief mention of crappy friends and family who are too focused on their own nonsense to care about the well being of anyone else, alcohol mentions and some alcohol consumption at the very end.
A/N: This maybe got a tad personal and self indulgent (oops). Before anyone asks, yes this was my actual stress response. I’m not proud of it but it worked! 😂 also, a very special thank you goes to the lovely @kellyn1604​ for giving this a quick read for me 💕
A Mutual Weirdness Masterlist 
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Bucky sighed in relief as he finally sat down in the back of the Quinjet. He, Sam, and Steve had been on a mission nonstop for the past twelve days tracking down Hydra agents. His whole body ached and he was desperate for some normal human interaction. Specifically, he was desperate for normal human interaction with you. All nonessential phone calls or text conversations had been prohibited, so it truly had been twelve days of uninterrupted Steve and Sam. Normally they made for great company and he enjoyed being around them. But now? Now Bucky was almost ready to never see their faces again. He thought on multiple occasions during the mission that all SHIELD trainees should have to endure Sam’s singing for hours on end as a part of their hostage training. If they can survive that with Steve’s occasional attempts at harmonizing, they can survive anything.
Once the Quinjet was in the air, he took out his phone and sent you a quick text saying they were on their way back. Not even a minute later, Bucky’s screen lit up with an incoming Facetime call from you. His heart surged at the thought of seeing you hours before he initially expected to and answered without a moment's hesitation. The smile written on his face fell as soon as he saw you.
You looked terrible. The exhaustion he felt after twelve days of work suddenly seemed like nothing compared to the exhaustion written on your face. You tried to smile at him, but the smile didn’t fully reach your eyes. Bucky’s gut twisted.
“Doll, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dripping with worry.
You tried to nod yes but burst out in tears instead. The tears kept coming and after a few minutes, Bucky really started to worry.
“When you feel ready, take a couple deep breaths for me. Tell me what’s going on so I know how to help.”
It took a few minutes, but your tears started to slow and your breathing began to even out. Bucky smiled at you reassuringly as you took a few deep breaths before starting to talk.
“Bucky, I’m so sorry. You’ve been on a mission and here I am crying before you even had the chance to say hello,” you said, wiping away a stray tear rolling down your cheek.
“These past few days have just been really hard. Well, the past couple of months really, but everything’s starting to hit me all at once. School sucks, I can’t believe they’re allowed to charge me what they are. College is stressful enough as it is, why does paying for it have to be challenging too? I work thirty hours a week during the semester and over forty during breaks, yet I still can’t afford to go to school without taking out student loans. It’s bullshit. On top of all of that, I still have my regular bills to pay too!
“And as if financial stress isn’t enough, my family and friends have all decided that this week was the week to start up as much drama as possible…” you trailed off and a new round of tears began.
Bucky’s heart broke as he watched your body shake with each new sob. He desperately wished it was his hands wiping away your tears instead of your own.
The tears ended a little quicker this time, but the sadness didn’t quite leave your face as you started to speak, “My family is fighting over something stupid and using me as the go-between because I wasn’t there when the argument started. But at the same time, they’re bitching at me for ‘never being there’ when it’s their own fault for not inviting me!
“My friends are also upset that I don’t have the time to see them as often anymore and are bitching about that. One of them is freaking out in particular because she thinks she’s about to be dumped, while another is complaining about how much she doesn’t like being married because now her mother-in-law expects grandbabies. I’m fucking tired of everything and everyone.”
Bucky waited to see if you were going to continue before he spoke. “Doll, I am so sorry. That’s a lot to handle all at once. What can I do to help?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s much you can do, Bucky. I just let things build up too much and they all exploded at once.” You paused for a moment and let out a bitter chuckle, “This whole adulting thing is a load of garbage. What a fucking scam. I can’t believe I ever wanted to grow up.”
Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter. Before he could say anything though, you spoke up again
“You know what? Fuck it. I’m done being an adult. I’m going to go do something childish and ignore all my adult responsibilities.”
Bucky snorted. “Oh yeah? What childish thing are you going to do?”
You pondered for a moment, eyebrows furrowed together as you considered your options. Bucky could see the lightbulb go off in your head before a smug smile crept up onto your face. “I’m going to build a blanket fort. Nobody expects adult things from someone who’s hanging out in a blanket fort”
If you hadn’t looked and sounded so serious, Bucky would’ve laughed again. Instead, he just nodded and smiled.
You weren’t amused by his lack of enthusiasm. “Oh c’mon, are you really telling me that a blanket fort isn’t the obvious solution to my problems?”
Bucky went to reply, but you cut him off with a gasp as a look of pure joy swept across your face. The joy soon transitioned into a look that screamed pure chaos. Bucky suddenly felt nervous.
“I’m going to go to the store and get juice boxes before I start. The blanket fort was a brilliant first step in my ‘Fuck The Scam That Is Adulthood’ plan, but the juice boxes -” you mimed a chef kiss “- are the icing on the cake.”
“Juice boxes, huh? That one’s a little surprising,” he teased. “Do you want me to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to go along with that? Or maybe you’d like some fruit snacks?”
You smiled devilishly back at him, “Well, it needs to be an alcoholic juice box though. That’s the one part of adulting I do like, so it gets to be the exception.”
This time Bucky didn’t even bother trying to hold back his laughter. “I’m not sure anything describes you better than an alcoholic juice box.”
“Agreed. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go buy myself some juice boxes, make the blanket fort of my dreams, and then hide in it whilst pretending the world doesn’t exist. Come over as soon as you’re home and ready. Bring some food with you!”
The call ended abruptly and Bucky stared at the screen in disbelief for a moment before he chuckled. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, wondering how he ended up with someone as beautiful and crazy as you. He was still worried of course. Everything you had mentioned that was contributing to your stress was a lot. He fell asleep trying to plan out how to help you and what he could do to help keep things from being bottled up for this long again.
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Three hours and a hot shower later, Bucky found himself walking up the steps to your apartment with food from your favorite Chinese restaurant in hand. He unlocked the door and made his way in, kicking off his shoes by the door.
“Doll, it’s me. Where are you?”
He heard you giggle slightly before calling out to him, “I’m in my room.”
He made his way back towards your room and his feet froze before he was fully in the door. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. You had built the most massive blanket fort he had ever seen. Fort was no longer the appropriate word to use; it was a blanket castle. He knew you were chaotic, but this...this was an entirely new level of chaotic, even for you.
Chairs from the living room and kitchen had been brought in as support beams, packing tape was being used to hold up one side of a sheet against the wall, and couch cushions were arranged to create a small tunnel as an entrance to the fort. The empty bed frame suggested you had even moved your mattress onto the floor for the sake of this damn fort. Once the initial shock wore off, he crouched down and carefully crawled inside.
Every pillow and cushion in your apartment was inside the fort with you, along with the few blankets that somehow hadn’t been used in the fort itself. You were curled up under your comforter with a bottle of wine in hand.
“I have to say when you said you were building a blanket fort I certainly did not expect something this big.” He leaned forward and gave you a quick kiss to the forehead as you giggled at his surprise.
““That’s what you get for underestimating my fort-making abilities,” You took a long sip of wine straight from the bottle before handing it to Bucky.
“I commend you on your taste in juice boxes, though I’d hardly call this a box.” he teased. He held up the bottle and looked at it closer before adding, “You also seem to have drunk most of it already. Guess I should have brought my own.” He estimated there was barely enough wine left to fill half of a glass. You sat there and shrugged.
“I’ll have you know I did consider getting a boxed wine to be more authentic. I decided against it though because that one’s harder to casually drink from. But bottle, schmottle - it’s a minor detail at this point. As to your astute observation about that one being almost empty, there are two more in the fridge. You can go open one up if you’re wanting some,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “The far more important concern right now is if you remembered to get extra egg rolls. You know how much drunk me loves egg rolls.”
Bucky rolled his eyes before dutifully reaching into the bag of takeout that had been haphazardly pushed to the side and pulling out three orders of egg rolls. A happy squeal and a quick peck on the cheek was all he needed to think that maybe your approach to adulthood wasn’t half bad.
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miraculouscontent · 4 years
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*long, deep, exhausted sigh*
So, I just wanna talk real quick about this whole “Adrienette” business in the special. Humor me for a bit.
On a narrative level, the show has designed Marinette and Adrien as endgame. They’re the ones at the forefront, they’re the ones crushing on one side of each other, and they’re the superheroes who protect Paris.
And yet, here I am, having just watched the special, feeling no desire whatsoever for them to be together. This isn’t even about their chemistry for once, no, this about how the show cannot let Marinette make decisions involving their relationship in any way without screwing her over.
She tries to give Adrien gifts? Either someone steals it, a ladybug conveniently flies in to distract her from signing it, or the way she gives it almost leads to the world ending.
She tries to move on because Adrien has openly stated that he’s interested in someone else? Her friends stand up and start loudly arguing about it.
She tries to roleplay - as per Tikki’s advice - in front of an Adrien statue to work up a confession? Oops! The statue was actually Adrien and she just humiliated herself!
She tries to give him up again when Adrien reiterates that he loves another girl? Tikki gives some vague platitude about surprises and the future, which apparently convinces Marinette not to take down her Adrien photos.
She tries a scheme to talk to Adrien? She fails. She tries to just talk to him normally? She fails more.
And now, past three seasons and one special, I’m not even surprised anymore. Any expectation of things going well for Marinette can basically be thrown out the window unless it’s for the sake of shipping fuel and nothing else.
We’re here, post-”Miracle Queen,” and Marinette continues to be a mess around Adrien. She’s still stammering, still freaking out when he touches her, and still getting stuck in situations with him that force her and him together.
People wonder why Marinette still hasn’t changed? They wonder why she can’t move on? I know why.
It’s because she isn’t allowed to, not just because of the narrative/universe/whatever, but because of her surroundings.
I just wanna make it clear that, by “Miracle Queen,” Kagami and Adrien are as close to dating as they’ve ever been, with Kagami kissing Adrien just above the lips in the special, so they’re either actually dating or on such intimate terms that they might as well be.
Marinette has every reason to both want to and try to move on. At this point, her crush can only hurt her. What the special verbalizes as “denial,” I see as Marinette doing whatever she can to only be a friend to Adrien because the girl he loves is not her.
Heck, even if it’s truly a matter of her being in denial, that’s not what the special goes for, because Marinette tells Alya outright, near the beginning, that she needs help seeing Adrien as “just a friend.” Alya vents to Nino about how she wants Marinette to just “be honest with her feelings,” but Marinette is and practically told Alya as much.
Marinette relates dancing with Adrien as “friendly,” along with anything else Alya tries to tease her about. Gee, I wonder why? Maybe it’s because she’s been through it before and has seen signs where there apparently weren’t any. Adrien asked her to dance in “Despair Bear” (at Chloe’s party, which the special incorrectly calls Chloe’s birthday party) but a few episodes pass and Adrien is suddenly asking her for romantic advice to get him with another girl.
Marinette freaks out because every time she tries to be normal, someone mocks her, or Adrien makes a motion to get way too close, and at this point, she has no idea when the next “scheme” will be to force her together with him. Marinette’s anxiety and stuttering are where they are because of how much she’s been through; all the embarrassment and failure that led to no good results, which means that any success at all with Adrien gives her that emotional high (thinly disguised as “love”) for him. I don’t have to wonder why she acts the way she does because I’m seeing it.
When she tries even harder to get to Adrien in Season 3, it’s specifically because of how bad she failed before. It’s, “well, none of these other crazy things I’ve done have worked, so that must mean I have to try even harder!”
Because being in Adrien’s class and being called a “friend” by him is getting her nowhere. He doesn’t spend time with her, he doesn’t know her (at least not enough to know that startling her with a prank won’t help her like him more), and the only forces putting them together are outside ones.
Marinette wants to be friends with Adrien here - she wouldn’t be insisting that everything was friendly between them if she didn’t - but basically no one will let her. Marinette even gave a list of Adrien-related things that she stopped doing nowadays, and what happens?
Alix tries to nail her over something else that she still does, because apparently progress doesn’t matter, and the “joke” that the special keeps trying to hammer home is that Marinette is a wreck who’s still very much into Adrien even though she's trying not to be.
Then, there’s Alya, and I have not been this annoyed with her in a LONG time.
The worst thing to do to someone trying to get over something is to keep bringing it up to them, and Alya was relentless in this special. From start to finish, Alya was doing whatever she could to remind Marinette that her crush is still very much there and it’s agony. Alya is constantly groaning and making faces whenever Marinette denies that there’s anything special about what she did with Adrien, to the point where she pulls a “The Puppeteer 2″ and tries to force them together herself.
And the mocking does not end. I counted at least three instances of Alya using “friend” sarcastically to describe how Marinette felt towards Adrien, and that’s only counting the ones where she used actual airquotes.
At one point during the beginning, Marinette goes to Alya to talk about how she can’t sit next to Adrien. Alya proceeds to say that “there’s still time to get off the plane” and goes on about how “romantic” New York will be. Marinette freaks out at the mental images that enter her head and screams that she “has to get out of here” (not “I need to be moved,” but a clear indication of get me off this plane I DO NOT want this) but when Ms. Mendeleiev asks what’s wrong, Alya doesn’t ask for Marinette to be taken off the plane (which hasn’t taken off yet) and just asks her to be moved elsewhere.
It’s outright uncomfortable how much Alya keeps pressing the issue of Marinette feeling “more than friendly” feelings to Adrien. When Adrien is leaving New York to go back with his father, Alya yells at Marinette and makes it about Marinette’s crush, as if Marinette can’t want Adrien to stay unless she has a crush on him.
The special makes Marinette’s situation all about “do you have a crush on him or not” and it’s awful. It hammers away at Marinette, repeatedly, then continues the typical Treatment of Marinette “humor” by having her walk by all the couples (DJWifi, Myvan, and Julerose) in the beginning of the special while she’s on her way to the bathroom of the plane, then jostles the plane at just the right time for her to be soaked and get toilet paper in her hair.
This special never should have been about Marinette trying to confess to Adrien (and, y’know, forcing her too). That’s not important here. What was important to teach Marinette was, “You have a crush, and that’s okay even if he likes someone else as long as you’re working on it and know what you want to do about it.”
Marinette’s agency is completely stripped away for this entire special because everything is a matter of convenience or by force of the plot. Even by the matter of Chat Noir not being in Paris, it’s technically Marinette’s fault because she tried to convince Adrien’s dad to let Adrien go (the scene of her deciding to do this, by the way, also comes off as if she’s not allowed to want this for him and be just his friend). The show doesn’t acknowledge it because it can’t, but the implications are there.
When Marinette suffers, it’s most likely because of Adrien, whether it’s his fault or just the stars aligning to form a middle finger at her. No matter what she tries to do, fate will work against her.
But here’s the special, insisting that they’re “made for each other,” pointing it out more than once, verbally, by one of the characters.
Here’s the tea, honey: if Marinette and Adrien were really made for each other, then I wouldn’t have to be told that they are.
The more that I’m told, the less I actually believe it, and this special comes nowhere close to making me believe it.
Instead of showing me that they should be together, all this special does is find any contrived situation it can to force them to interact, without realizing that all it’s doing is proving that they shouldn’t be together specifically because the interaction needs to be forced. If Adrienette was a ship I wanted to consider worthy of being endgame, the special wouldn’t need to shove them together needlessly.
It wouldn’t need to have their airplane seats happen to be right next to each other.
It wouldn’t need them to happen to wake up before everyone else to watch the clouds.
It wouldn’t need the two sets of automatic doors to stop working to trap them in the area in-between, twice.
It wouldn’t need them to happen to stumble into the same room together so someone can comment on how they’re, again, “made for each other.”
It wouldn’t need the magic hot dog they eat to be the one that happens to send them up in the air so they can dance together.
And it especially wouldn’t need the contrived moments of Marinette accidentally forcing her seat back so Adrien falls on top of her, or the plane jostling at just the right time to force her against him, or her and Adrien touching hands (ala “Gamer”) before she looks away in embarrassment.
Heck, I don’t even like Adrien, but with how his and Kagami’s relationship seems to be going, I’m disgusted for him too when Nino is going full-force on trying to get Adrien to notice Marinette. Adrien has no idea that any of this is going on and is just being strung along with all of it, whereas Marinette is stuck along for the ride whether she likes it or not.
People can have whatever opinion of Lukanette they want, but one person who didn’t make things worse for her was Luka himself. He shows up briefly in the opening, giving her a ride on his bike to catch up with the bus that’s taking the class to the airport. When Marinette worries that they won’t make it, Luka insists that they will because he knows how important the trip is for her. Marinette asks if he’s referring to Adrien and nervously tries to insists that she and Adrien are just friends and that’s all she sees Adrien as.
But Luka doesn’t mock her, nor laugh at her for it, because he doesn’t have to and he gets it. Unlike people who constantly try to force Marinette’s hand, Luka lets her figure things out on her own.
And when they finally come to a stop next to the bus, he doesn’t put any emphasis on Adrien. All he tells Marinette is that the importance of the trip is for her to get some clarity.
That is the closest thing to what I wanted (and just emphasizes how much I adore Luka and how refreshing his interactions with Marinette are), but it’s the farthest thing from what she actually gets.
How am I supposed to believe that Marinette and Adrien have a genuine relationship deserving of endgame when her feelings are constantly being forced in one direction? How am I supposed to believe anything about them when it’s not natural? How am I supposed to believe that this is the couple that’s “made for each other” when the show is so desperate to make me believe it that they’ll say it outright?
Because, obviously, I don’t believe any of that, and all this special has done is make my disdain for the love square even stronger.
That’s a failing grade if I’ve ever seen one. What a waste.
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Vampire!Hux x Stackhouse!Female Reader
A/N: So this is something I’ve been working on for a long time. It’s a Star Wars, True Blood mash up and I mean mash up. Like I smushed the two together, rubbing them between my hands making fanfiction breadcrumbs. We have Vampire!Hux 🤓 Shapeshifter!Poe and Werewolf!Kylo further down the line. Reader is the sister of Jason but trust me she’s not as annoying as Sookie (I couldn’t think of anyone to replace Jason because he’s the bomb so reader had to be a Stackhouse!) Bill doesn’t exist, because he too was annoying. I am posting this first chapter in celebration of @clydesducktape milestone celebration! Congrats Thia! I hope this is enjoyed.
Warnings: Not much for now, maybe some stalkerish behaviour from Hux. Mention of drinking, telepathic abilities. It will be a Darkfic and NSFW 18+
Word count: 4078
He’ll never forget the first time he saw you, the way your lips curved into a smile, how your eyes danced in the dim light of the club, the shape of your body, the sway of your hips as you walked and the fall of your hair with every movement of your head. He swore he could hear the strands as they settled softly. No, he’ll never forget the first time he saw you or the way your scent drifted over to him, carried on the rush of air when the club door opened. It was divine, he had to use all his self control not to rush over and steal you from your group of friends and have you in the office. His pupils dilated in a rush, if his heart beat it would be pounding in his chest, instead he heard yours; loud and clear, a steady beat in his ears drowning out all other sound. His nose flared sucking in as much of you as possible. Your blood sang to him, making you a beacon amongst the crowd; you smelled like sunshine, fresh flowers and grass, so earthy and light….you smelled like daylight. And he had to have you.
You shivered slightly looking at the gaudy neon sign on the side of the squat brick building. The night sky had begun to finally darken overhead and your excitement rose making you feel fidgety as you hopped from one foot to the other. You were surrounded by a group of friends who were all chatting excitedly about visiting the new vamp bar in Shreveport. You were intrigued, you’d never met a vampire before and now they were out of the coffin everyone wanted to meet one.
“You cold?” Shaking your head you looked up into the deep brown eyes of your friend Poe.
“I’m ok, just wish they’d let us in, you know?” He grimaced slightly.
“Not sure I’d wish for that.” You looped your arm through his and pulled him close, enjoying his warmth, Poe was always so hot, he was like your own personal radiator.
“Come on, we’re just here to scope out the competition, I’m sure these vamps have got nothing on us. I mean,” you gestured at the sign. “Look at it.” Poe smiled and dipped his head slightly causing his curls to cascade over his brow.
“Yeah maybe.” You shook his arm in an effort to get him to loosen up.
“What’s up? You were all for this earlier?” You asked, a hint of concern in your voice. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and gave his stubble a quick scratch and he wrinkled his nose.
“Ah, you know me, I aim to keep everyone happy.” You rolled your eyes, he was too much of a softy, a real push over.
“You don’t have to keep us happy! I can always report back if you don’t want to come in?” His eyes widened slightly and you could see the clench in his jaw as he pressed his teeth together.
“You’re not going in without me,” he rumbled. Your eyebrow rose at the gruff commanding tone in his voice, one you hadn’t heard before in all the years you’d known him.
“Yes boss!” Just then the door opened and a cheer rose up from the crowd outside. Jannah turned to beam at you as the line shuffled forward and you smiled back. You noticed Poe’s arm tense against yours and gave him a reassuring squeeze, his sense of unease was coming across to you the longer you had contact with him. Your barriers were lowering, whispers edged your mind and you tried harder to block them out. People streamed into the loud club, a tall blonde woman stood by the door watching everyone with a bored expression on her face until you reached the door. Her arm stretched out to stop you both entering, her eyes were bright as she scanned you both.
“ID,” she drawled, holding out a perfectly manicured hand, her fangs flashed when she spoke and you let out a giggle.
“Oh! You’re my first vampire!” You gushed as you dug out your ID. She pursed her lips and looked down at the card, cocking an immaculate eyebrow. “I haven’t been ID’d in such a long time! It’s so nice to meet you.” She sighed slightly and handed back the card.
“I can’t tell human ages anymore. You bloodbags all look the same to me.” Her blue eyes slid over to Poe when she spoke, a hint of smirk playing on her lips. “Go on in,” she drawled.
“Thank you!” Smiling broadly you dragged Poe in after your friends, it was dark all blacks and reds but you just assumed that was the commercial vampire aesthetic. The bar spread along the right hand side, the bartenders performing inhuman tricks and serving at superhuman speed. The middle of the club was made up of space to dance, punctuated by tables to stand around, a couple of poles flanked a stage and you couldn’t draw your eyes away from the scantily clad woman climbing up and down them with ease. Your gaze finally settled on the stage, a vampire, you assumed, was reclining in a deep red leather and gold chair. He had a shock of red hair that flopped over his brow giving him a soft appearance. His pale skin almost glowed from the spotlight that shone on him, his long fingers rested delicately on his lips while he surveyed the area before him, his bright eyes settled on you and it felt like all the hairs on your body rose at once making you shiver again. He lounged comfortably like a ruler regarding his kingdom in a dark suit, with a white shirt and a suit jacket in only what you could describe was a throne the longer you stared.
“If you’re not comfortable we can go,” said Poe and he moved to block the vampire from your view.
“Are you kidding? This is great!” You exclaimed. “Nothing like your bar though Poe, I’m sure these guys have got nothing on us, I bet they don’t even serve food,” you said leaning into him and whispering in his ear. He chuckled and placed a hand on your back.
“No, I don’t think food is a vampire’s, thing.” Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with a hand to stifle a giggle.
“I didn’t think that through, did I? Anyway, let's get a drink.” The music wasn’t too loud and you were able to hold a conversation with your group of friends, Poe hovered closely by your shoulder as protective as always. He had his reservations about the vamps coming out to mainstream, he didn’t think they should have but you just thought it was exciting and brave of them to do so. You sipped your drink gazing around the club and tapping your foot to the music, until you found yourself looking at the stage again. The vampire’s eyes were trained on you with an intensity you’d never experienced before making your breath hitch in your throat.
It’s said that vamps have heightened hearing and you wondered if he could hear the increase in your heart beat, the rush of each pound as your blood coursed through your veins. You played with your bottom lip out of habit and he leaned forward in his chair, his blazing gaze never leaving you. Your lips parted and dragged in a sharp breath, your skin began to tingle, your heart fluttering erratically. It was so hot in here all of a sudden and you shifted under his intense attention trying to release some of the tension that had gathered in your body. Your eyes flickered as he stood up suddenly, your body seemed to cease functioning more and more the closer he got, your group of friends trailing off their sentences in awe. He drew level with you, his gaze still trained on you like you were his prey and he was stalking you. Not even Poe’s protective hand on your waist could break the spell you were falling under and everything dropped away the closer the vamp got. You reached out instinctively only to find his mind was empty, blank, silent and you felt your interest grow, the heat under your skin reached a fever pitch and you vaguely remembered to breathe. Your head swivelled to track his movement as he walked past you, finally pulling his bright gaze away from yours at the last moment and the noise of the club returned in a rush.
“Ok,” said Jannah. “What was that?” You frowned and shrugged.
“I can’t hear him,” you looked around, letting your barriers drop slightly. “I can’t hear any of them.” Poe frowned.
“You mean your….” you nodded, a relieved smile breaking over your face at the thought that if you were surrounded by vampires you wouldn’t have to exhaust yourself all the time by blocking out their thoughts. This was something you needed to explore.
The temperatures had soared today, after all the rain it was a relief to finally have some sun. You reclined in the chair baring as much skin as you could without being indecent, you couldn't explain it but the sunlight seemed to rejuvenate you, it warmed your entire body from the top of your scalp to the very tips of your toes, the heat curling around you, basking your skin in its vibrant heat. If you could lay here for the rest of your life you would, being outside, in the sun was the only real pleasure you got these days and you wouldn't give it up for anyone. The sound of large tyres broke your calm but you were used to it, you could sense his annoyance as he got out of the truck and you slowly placed your barriers back up, your brother's mind was one place you didn’t want to be. He called your name curtly and you sighed lightly.
“What’s this I hear you went to that fucking vamp bar in Shreveport?” He demanded loudly, making you sit up in annoyance.
“Would you keep your voice down? I don’t want Gran to hear!” You hissed. He looked around quickly before crouching down next to you, his short blonde hair seemed golden in the light, his eyes tracking over your body making you stick your tongue out at him. “You think I’d be sitting out here like this if I had vampire marks all over me?” You asked haughtily and he frowned.
“Stay out of my head!”
“I’m not in your head, moron. I know you.” He hummed in irritation and you settled back into your chair. “Is that all you came to say? To try and police me by making comments on what I do with my free time?” He said your name in defeat as he settled down in the short grass.
“You’re my baby sister, I just want you to be safe.” You looked over at him through the lenses of your sunglasses.
“I was safe, Jason. I promise, Poe came with me, and Jannah, Finn and Kaydel.”
“See, I wasn’t fucking told that. Why wasn’t I invited?” He whined.
“No, you just assumed I’d be stupid enough to go by myself, you weren’t invited because we went to scope out the competition.”
“Jason!” You both looked over at your Gran standing on the porch. “Get out of the sun kids, you’ll burn to a crisp. Come and have some lemonade.”
“You got any food Gran?” Your brother asked hopefully as he dusted himself off.
“I always got food for my growing boy, come on.” You slowly sat up, you didn’t want to go in just yet but you also knew your Gran would hound you until you had a drink and something to eat at least. You grabbed the dress that was hanging on the back of the chair and slipped it over your bikini before making your way indoors. You had a light lunch with Jason and your Gran before making your way upstairs to get ready for work. The water from the shower was cool on your sun heated skin, you took your time making sure you were fresh and all the dust from the dry ground had been washed off. You dried your hair and you pulled on your uniform for the bar thinking about how busy your shift was going to be tonight.
“I’m off to work Gran!” You said loudly as you grabbed your bag off the banister at the bottom of the stairs, dusk had fallen outside and your shift started really soon.
“Bye sweetheart! Say hi to Poe for me. I really wish you’d bring him here for dinner one night.” You leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek while rolling your eyes.
“Bye Gran,” you glossed over her comment with a knowing tone to your voice. “Don’t wait up for me.” You locked the door behind you and stepped down the porch steps to head to your car, your feet faltering before you came to a stop. Someone was standing in your driveway, blocking your route to the car.
“Excuse me? Can I help you?”
“I don’t know. Can you?” His voice was clipped with a heavy British accent, he had a large black overcoat on and his hands were clasped behind his back.
“Well I don’t know you’re just standing there,” you replied with annoyance. He turned slightly and the light from the porch fell on his face, you recognised him immediately as the red haired vamp from the bar. “How did you know where I live?”
“Phasma looked at your ID.” Right.
“Surely she can’t just hand out my information like that?” You could feel panic rising in your chest and you looked up at the house worried for your Gran’s safety.
“Don’t worry,” you shrieked loudly and backed up a few steps because he was suddenly before you looking down at you, curiosity marking his high cheek boned face. “I can’t get in without an invitation.” He stated, his red hair falling across his brow.
“So that’s true then!” You gasped, your hand clutching your top as your heart raced. He didn’t move, his light green eyes suggestively making their way down your body. “Stop looking at me like that,” you snapped.
“Why?” He didn’t sound like he was teasing, he was genuinely asking.
“Because it’s making me uncomfortable and you’re making me late for work.” You walked round him in a wide circle but he just followed your movements with peaked interest.
“He makes you wear that to work? Isn’t it a bit revealing?” He asked. You scoffed, shoving your key into your car door.
“Unlike what the women were wearing last night at your place,” you murmured to yourself.
“You noticed then.” You screamed again, he was so close, his voice bleeding smoothly into your ear as he leaned over your shoulder. You recoiled when he sniffed your hair, his eyes fluttering closed slightly. “What are you?” He whispered.
“I’m a waitress, who’s late for work. Now if you’ll excuse me…” you wrenched the car door open feeling relieved when he made no moves to stop you, the wheels kicking up gravel and dust as you pulled hastily away.
“You’re late!”
“I’m sorry Poe!” You threw an apologetic smile his way, rushing past the bar.
“Took your time,” said Jess as she winked at you. You stuffed your bag in your locker and hastily tied your apron before heading out into the diner. It was busy which for the business was great, but for your mind it wasn’t. It didn’t take long for your concentration to slip, you began rattling off orders before the customers had even opened their mouths making them eye you nervously. You plastered a big smile on your face and each time you did it felt like you were losing a piece of yourself. It was so tiring, blocking this many people’s thoughts from entering your mind all at once. Your break finally came around and you disappeared out the back door leaning heavily against the building.
“You taking a moment babe?” Asked Finn lightly as he stepped through the back door.
I knew Poe shouldn’t have taken her last night. She’s too pure for that vamp club.
“Yeah Finn, just having a breather, so loud in there tonight,” you said pointing with your thumb over your shoulder.
It’s not loud for me, you’re the one with crazy weirdness going on… Finn smiled and it was moments like this where you hated being a telepath. You hated not being able to completely block out your friends thoughts because it changed the way you looked at them in that moment. Other people’s thoughts aren’t meant to be heard. He threw some rubbish in the bin slamming the lid back down.
“I’ll see you back in there biatch,” he waggled his eyebrows, dragging a slight giggle from you before he disappeared back inside. You scuffed the dirt with your trainer wishing you didn’t have to go back in and face the stares and unheard comments of everyone around you. It was lonely being different, maybe that’s why you admired the vamps so much but then there were a lot more of them and everyone could see they were vampires. You told people you were telepathic and they recoiled like you had a deadly disease, because sucking blood was much better, you thought with a loud sigh.
Thankfully most of the diner had emptied by the time you went back in, you rolled your shoulders to try and ease the tension in your neck. Poe popped his head out of the office when you were refilling the salt pots and softly called your name with a jerk of his head.
“You looked tired.” He commented while closing the door.
“Yeah, I’m sorry I was late, the vamp from the bar turned up at my house,” you finished with a laugh turning to your cubby. “Not sure what he wanted, he didn’t even tell me his name. He seems a bit stuck up if you ask me….” Poe said your name with a hint of panic, his hands gripping you tightly as he spun you round.
“What do you mean the fanger was at your house? Which one?”
“Don’t call them fangers, and it was the red haired one never gave me his name.” He gripped you even tighter and you frowned. “Poe, you’re beginning to pinch…” he released you to run a hand through his messy dark curls.
“Damn! I knew we shouldn’t have gone! You, definitely not.” He muttered angrily and began to pace in front of you.
“Poe calm down, what’s the matter?” You asked, watching him walk up and down, you tried to get a read on him but Poe had always been one of those people who’s thoughts seemed to be fuzzy, out of focus almost. More images and feelings rather than words themselves.
“This is bad, what did he say to you?” You crossed your arms wondering why Poe suddenly made you feel like you’d done something wrong.
“I don’t know, we chatted.” Poe huffed, his hand rubbing over his face, he looked as drained and tired as you felt.
“That’s Hux, and if he’s shown an interest in you this is bad,” he explained.
“Well he can’t get in my house and he can’t bother me during the day so I think I’ll be just fine. I can look after myself.” You snapped, turning back to your cubby and grabbing your stuff. You hated how everyone thought you were some poor helpless girl that needed looking after and right now you could feel that rolling off Poe in waves. “I take it, can I go?” He nodded miserably and moved to the side letting you pass him, you caught the image of his truck just at the edges of your mind. “No, I don’t need a ride home!” You shouted as you left his office.
You sighed heavily and rested your head on the back of your seat, you weren’t sure why today had been far more exhausting than usual, maybe the unexpected visit from a vampire of all people had put you on the back foot. You turned the car on and headed home, when you pulled into the driveway you cast all your senses around but you couldn’t hear or see anything. Not that you would.
“Ok, he’s not here, just get out of the car.” You muttered, psyching yourself up to make the journey to your front door. You grabbed your bag and made it to the porch when a voice rang out behind you.
“What are you?” You turned slowly to see him standing at the bottom of the stairs, you saw he had a smart suit on under his overcoat, his hands still clasped behind his back, his head cocked to the side.
“Why don’t you go home?” You insisted. He had a confident air about him as he began to slowly climb the steps towards you, a smirk splitting his face. Again you couldn’t get a read on him, nothing in his mind, no words, emotions, images and you found yourself relaxing in someone else’s presence for the first time ever. He stopped a few paces from you when he reached the top step, his piercing eyes looking over you like he’d never seen you before.
“I could go home, but something draws me here.” He turned and faced the garden meaning you got a good look at his profile. Not being able to know what he was thinking or feeling you found out, put you at a disadvantage and even though it was relaxing you weren’t sure you liked it. He took a few steps along the porch, turning his back to you to look up at the sky.
“Well if that’s all you’re gonna say I’ll be heading to bed,” you told him.
“Humans….” he murmured. “Such basic creatures.”
“And you’re not?” You asked boldly, stepping forward. “From what I heard all you do is sleep during the day and drink blood.” He regarded you over his shoulder, the breeze sweeping in and ruffling his flame red hair slightly. You blinked and he moved, appearing before you like he’d teleported. You stumbled backwards and he followed you step for step, his eyes boring deep into yours until he had backed you up against the wall. “What do you want from me?!” you asked in a rush. He bent forward slightly so his nose just ghosted over your hair and you could hear him breathing deeply. He straightened, flexing his shoulders in a fluid movement, his pupils blown wide almost making his eyes appear black, his mouth opened and you jumped as the fangs seemed to erupt out of nowhere.
“You smell like sunshine…..” he groaned and placed a hand on the wall next to you, leaning into your space. Your heart rate rocketed, you scrunched up your face and turned away from him thinking this was it, this was the moment you were going to die. He was going to drain you and leave you here for your Gran to find in the morning. You felt his fingers on your chin and you gasped at how cold they were, leeching the very heat from your skin. Your eyes flew open to gaze into his, you felt like a rabbit caught in a pair of bright, intense headlights, although now he was only millimetres from your face you could see his eyes were a rich green grey colour and they were mesmerising.
“Your eyes…” you murmured without thinking and he stilled. He could have been a statue, his chest didn’t even rise and fall as if he didn’t need to breathe. The silence hung between you like a living thing, loud in the motionless of you both. You flinched when his fangs retracted, but he didn’t remove his hand from the wall or his fingers from your chin for a few more beats. Your hair ruffled in the wake of his sudden movement and you looked up and down the porch, finding yourself so very alone.
“What the hell….” you muttered, giving yourself a mental shake. Whatever this was, whatever was happening you didn’t want to be a part of it.
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i’ll leave the pairing and whether it’s platonic or romantic up to you, but 56. “come back soon” please !! :)
"Come back soon" + platonic suki & aang
Suki shuddered, gasping for air as quietly as she could while she stumbled out of her room at Ozai’s beach house on Ember Island.
She crept past Sokka who was slumped on the couch with Zuko beside him—the two such a tangled mess of intertwined limbs that the only reason she could tell what body part belonged to who was because Sokka’s skin was darker. Normally, she would have smiled and chuckled at the sight, but tonight, it only made the sob pulsing at her throat stronger.
Finally, she made it out of the house, nearly collapsing on the porch. Only then did her emotions get the best of her, and she was crying but she wasn’t crying. It was some odd mixture, some strange sound that she couldn’t quite describe. It went on like that until she was hyperventilating, her hands clawing at her chest, pulling away at the fabric. She felt like she was suffocating.
Nights usually weren’t that hard—it was the day when she flashed back the most. Each time the sun's rays shone down on her, when she heard noises in the market, worse yet when she saw people firebending…
Nights were easier, especially when she could relish in the cool air and look at Yue until she was tired. For whatever reason, after Sokka had told her the tragic tale of Yue’s sacrifice, Suki found herself turning to the moon for comfort—even when she was locked away in Boiling Rock and couldn’t see Her.
Tonight, though, something must have happened. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she had woken up in a panic, desperate to escape from… well, there wasn’t anywhere to escape from, but she needed to get out of the house immediately.
She’d never been claustrophobic, but it seemed like the walls were closing in on her, coming closer and closer and closer and—
“Suki?”
She flew to her feet faster than she thought possible. Standing in the doorway was Aang, rubbing his eyes… his suspiciously red eyes.
“Hey,” she croaked, brushing herself off if only to do something with hands so they would stop trembling. “Can’t sleep either?”
Aang shrugged, his heel bouncing restlessly against the ground. “Can I… can I join you?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied. “Let’s sit.” Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground this time so she was sitting on the edge of the porch, her toes brushing against the sand below.
Aang sat beside her, sniffling.
“Everything okay?” she asked after a minute. While Suki didn’t know Aang nearly as well as Katara or Sokka, she knew him well enough to know that this wasn’t normal. The poor boy always wore his heart on his sleeve, so it wasn’t that hard to notice that something was obviously wrong, but this silence and metaphorical stillness surrounding his demeanor was eerie.
Aang blinked, shoving his feet into the sand and flicking it around. “I don’t know.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I—I don’t know,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes at the sand and digging his heels into it with more force. “You okay?”
She paused. That wasn’t supposed to happen—she wasn’t prepared for that. Normally, she would’ve brushed it aside—that’s what she was supposed to do, being older than him and all but…
He looked so scared, so exhausted and vulnerable that Suki felt the urge to share, even if it was more watered down than to spare him more grief.
And maybe if she shared with him, he’d feel like he could share with her.
“No,” she chuckled, gripping the edges of the dock so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. “Not really.”
Aang peered at her curiously, tilting his head, as if he were expecting her to lie too. “Oh. What’s… what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do?”
Even when Aang was in the middle of stress and hurt, he still cared for everyone else. It made Suki’s heart break, knowing that the most gentle, caring, compassionate person she’d ever met felt like he had a duty to place everyone else’s happiness above his own.
“Not really, I just… I guess I’ve been having trouble, um…” she trailed off, taking a long, careful breath. “I haven’t been processing my time at, uh, at Boiling Rock well.”
Even saying the name of the place made her shoulders tense and her heart race at a frightening speed.
Simply thinking about the place sent her into an unnatural state of panic. Talking about it was a whole different level of coping that she wasn’t entirely sure she was prepared for.
In the span of five seconds, a myriad of emotions flashed across Aang’s face: confusion, realization, horror, and guilt.
Guilt—it pained Suki in so many ways, seeing Aang’s innocent (and it wasn’t fair that really, they weren’t so innocent anymore, not after all he’s seen) eyes wide and heavy, carrying not only the burden of the world and the burden of a war he had no part in starting, but also the weight of her own personal grief… it wasn’t fair.
(It never was for them, was it?)
Aang cleared his throat uncertainly. “Oh, I didn’t realize… I didn’t really think about how you felt after that… I was so excited that Sokka and Katara got to see their dad that I…”
Suki held back a wince.
It had stung, watching everyone launch themselves at Hakoda instead of her—even at Sokka and Zuko. And she couldn’t be mad, not really. Hakoda was their dad—of course they’d be worried sick about him, knowing he’d been captured and not having a single clue about where she was (aside from vague taunting from Azula).
It was the curse of being a nonbender, the one hardly anyone knew (and that wasn’t fair—not when Sokka and Hakoda were nonbenders too).
(but even that couldn’t push down the jealousy she felt towards Hakoda—he had been there for a day. She had been there for months. It wasn’t a fair comparison, but that didn’t matter when she was left alone with her thoughts.)
“It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice flat but sincere. “You weren’t even there—there was nothing you could’ve done.”
It was true. The life of one measly Kyoshi Warrior wasn’t worth risking for the sake of the entire world. That’s what it’s like, growing up in war, knowing that your life would never be as important or essential as the movement you were fighting for.
She peered at Aang who was scrunching his nose so intensely it had to be painful. If anyone knew that feeling, that feeling of worthlessness but expected usefulness, it was Aang.
“Hey, quite that,” she gently chastised, lightly placing her hand on his knee. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Aang wordlessly complied, which honestly worried her even more. Yes, she was glad that Aang ceased the physical anguish he was putting himself through by thinking so long and hard about something out of his hands, but she had expected some sort of fight—some protest or joke relating to how he wasn’t actually in pain.
Just resigned obedience.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply sitting side by side. Suki watched the night sky, staring at Yue, hoping to forge any kind of connection with her.
“Suki…” Aang finally said, glaring at the sand surrounding his feet. “Have you ever… have you ever thought about what would happen if you took off? Never look back?”
Yes.
She thought about that a lot, what would happen if she just stopped fighting. What would’ve happened if Aang and Sokka and Katara (and Zuko’s men attacking her village) hadn’t convinced her and her girls not to stay neutral in the war. Suki dreamed about being back on Kyoshi Island, swimming when the unagi was away and practicing applying her makeup, stitching the holes they made in their uniforms with the girls.
Life was easier back then.
“Sometimes,” she replied instead, side eyeing him. “Do you?”
“There are… sometimes, I think it’d be easier,” he admitted, voice small. “I’m tired. And I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
He shrugged choppily. “I’m the Avatar,” was all he said.
“Do you ever wish you weren’t?” Now it was Suki’s turn to ask the question that couldn’t really be answered. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to say, even without seeing the confliction flash across his face and the way he licked his lips.
“Sometimes,” he eventually said, repeating Suki’s ambiguous answer from minutes earlier.
“I can’t even imagine what being the Avatar is like,” Suki stated, and tentatively, she reached her hand out and gently grabbed ahold of Aang’s nearest one.
She held on loosely enough to allow him to pull away if he wanted, but it seemed like he clung desperately to the contact.
Aang’s hands were soft, which didn’t really surprise her since he was an airbender at heart and all, but she could feel small patches of calluses around his palms. His fingers were long and lean, probably longer than hers.
She tightened her grip and Aang gave her a little squeeze in response.
“I like having you around,” he spoke up after a minute or two of silence. “You’re really nice to everyone, even Zuko and he burned your village down. You’re really strong. I’m glad Sokka was able to find you.”
I am too, she thought.
Then, his words hit her: “you’re really strong”. It was obvious with the way he said it that he didn’t mean her physical strength—that was always her highest praise from everyone back home, even when she got out and travelled a bit more. It was always “you’re really strong for a girl” or “wow, you’re really strong”. Always her physical strength. She knew she was strong, she worked hard to get to where she is, but that isn’t what Aang meant, she could tell.
“Not really,” she confessed quietly. “Sometimes I see Zuko with his arm around Sokka and I just see red and want to get him as far away from Sokka as I can. Or I’ll see him spar with Toph and he’ll bend fire and I want to grab my fan and pin him to a tree. Whenever I’m around him, I smell my village burning to the ground. Whenever he bends, I see…” Suki trailed off, shuddering and using her free hand to swipe at the invisible tears filling her eyes. “I see the sun and it’s burning me and it’s grabbing me and it’s—”
Aang squeezed her hand, and the touch was enough to bring her back to the present away from the boiling island that haunted her—following her around as a ghost, always over her shoulder, always plaguing the back of her mind.
“It’s not Zuko.”
“You don’t have to forgive him yet,” Aang told her. “Forgiveness takes awhile sometimes.”
“I want to forgive him,” she said truthfully. “But I’m not sure if I can forgive his people. Or his sister. Especially not his sister. He is nice, infuriatingly nice. It feels like he shouldn’t be. That’s all I’ve ever known—the firebenders will burn you, the Fire Nation will take everything from you. Maybe he did once. But he isn’t anymore. I just don’t know how to change—if I want to change.”
Aang groaned, leaning forward so that his head was almost pressed against his knees (he still held Suki’s hand). “I wish it all made sense.”
“You can say that again.”
“No, Suki. I don’t want to fight the Fire Nation. Does that make me a bad person?” Aang’s voice broke, but he too did not cry.
Oh.
When Suki peered down at him, he looked so young—he was so young—and to think the entire world expected a twelve year old kid to willingly kill maybe thousands of people (or, thousands more. Sokka told her about what happened at the North Pole. Neither he nor Katara had the heart to tell Aang how many fatalities there were then) and then sit down and fix everything while also being the last Air Nomad alive was… well, when she put it like that, it was disgusting.
“I don’t think it does,” she said, and Aang lifted his head, his big grey eyes staring at his in something akin to disbelief. “You’re a kid.”
“I’m the Avatar—”
“You’re a kid, Aang.”
He shut his mouth, eyebrows scrunched while he pondered what she said. “Am I really?”
Those three words broke her. The helplessness, the exhaustion, the resignation Suki heard made her want to hide him away from the world, wrap him up in an embrace so big that he would be sheltered and protected.
“I think you are. Do you?”
“I don’t know. I want to be. I thought I was.”
He stopped, but Suki nodded at him to continue, if he wanted to.
So, he took a deep breath and continued: “Growing up, the Fire Nation was full of friends and familiar faces. Then, they all became blank. Then Zuko joined us and we danced and he became just as familiar as Kuzon once was. I went to school and saw the kids and they don’t know that they’re wrong. And now we’re here and we walk through town and everyone hates me—they hate the Avatar—but they smile at me when I pass and when I wave to them, they wave back. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well,” Suki began, “this sucks. And here I thought life wasn’t supposed to be this complicated until we were older.” Because she was still processing everything Aang had said and it’s so much and she didn’t know how he did this every day. She didn’t know what else to say, there was nothing that she could say to make things better.
Aang chuckled, it wasn’t as full of life as it usually was, but it was still something.
“Thank you for listening, Suki,” he told her, looking at her earnestly. “I know you don’t think you’re that strong, but you’re the strongest person I know.”
Suki snorted. Opening her mouth to disagree, but he beat her to it.
“No! You are! You’ve been through a lot of really bad things. You were in one of the worst places a person could possibly be, and even though sometimes you can’t look at Zuko without seeing the guy who ordered the destruction of your village or the prison guards that hurt you, but you never hurt him. You still talk to him and eat with him and… I don’t know. It makes me think that maybe something good can come out of all of this.”
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Suki sucked in a breath. “Well, if you really think that—”
“I do!”
She smiled. “Well, then I need you to know that you’re the strongest person I know. I haven’t been around that much, but Sokka tells me stories. He’s told me about how you always make friends with your enemies, or you try to. About how you believed in Toph when no one else did. How you risked the Avatar State for Katara… I don’t know anyone else who could ever do what you do. I’m proud of you.”
That did it.
Aang burst into tears, hunching over as his body wracked with sobs.
Suki didn’t let go of his hand, but she used her unoccupied one to pull Aang into the hug that she longed to give him, holding him tightly and securely.
His free arm found its way around her back, and suddenly Suki felt a couple of tears escape her too. She was never a loud crier, something she was thankful for, but she didn’t pull away when one of the few that fell hit Aang’s skin and for once, she wasn’t scared that he’d notice or hear.
The two of them sat there for what felt like hours, his head buried in her neck and her cheek resting on the top of his head. They clung to each other, wordless and messy and vulnerable and real.
They held each other until Aang’s sobs died down, his voice rough and cracked.
“Thank you,” he croaked.
“Thank you,” she replied.
Then, Aang coughed, a harsh and angry sound.
As much as she didn’t want to, Suki let go of Aang (and his hand) and stood up. “I’m going to get you some water,” she told him before he could worry that he did something wrong. “You sound like you need it.”
Even still, as she started to walk away, Aang’s eyes widened and reached out, grasping her wrist so tightly that his nails were digging into her skin. “Suki…” he began, voice cracking. “I—“ he cut himself off, lips quivering.
Gently, Suki pried his hand off of her. “I’m not leaving, okay?” she whispered, and she meant it.
She felt Aang nod against her chest and she pulled away.
“Come back soon.” He spoke delicately, carefully, but that didn’t prevent the grief from seeping through his words.
Suki bent over enough to give Aang a quick kiss on the top of his head, before crouching so she was at eye level. “I always will.”
When Zuko woke up the next morning, he walked outside to meditate and found Aang and Suki coiled together on the porch, her hand draped protectively over his chest and his hand intertwined with hers.
He woke Sokka up, and the two sat with them, waiting for them to wake up.
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petition to let friends platonically kiss each other’s heads for comfort 2k21
but uhhh if you know me, you know i love the suki and aang friendship potential. so, may i present some platonic suki and aang:)
wow this got so long and so angsty i am so sorry haha!
also sorry it took so long, i uhhh got really busy and didn't have reliable service for a couple weeks! i am working on all of the other prompts as well!
101 ways to say i love you prompts
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Nina/Mattias + fight sex but they’re idly bickering about something that doesn’t matter very much
Canon-divergent / the little adventure up in frozen hell took long enough for this dynamic to develop (because what even is a timeline and I have no clue how long it actually was on the show). Also, for plot purposes and context, this does make use of my belief that everyone is just SLIGHTLY aged up on the show and in my head most of the main lineup is 20ish. Oh, and first time writing these babes so fingers crossed I got characterization okay. Obviously NSFWish ahead, a little more graphic than I’ve written in a while and also involves a First Time...
He’s keeping the third blanket from her.
It is, objectively, the most petty Nina has felt since the whole almost-dying thing happened, maybe even since the getting-captured bit. Trying to get under his skin, trying to handle the daily shifting of their dynamic, has been almost as exhausting as trying to stay alive. Which in itself is enough of a challenge, because somehow they are lost and whenever Nina gets back to civilization she is going to have so many comments about Druskelle navigational instincts or the apparent total lack thereof. So. Many. Comments. The moment she has a possibly appreciative audience, because she is not wasting her breath on that here right now and-
At least tonight they’re in some kind of fishing shack again, clear space to build a fire and a pile of blankets of various questionable quality. There have been nights they haven’t been so lucky. She’s saving her energy for where it matters. But on the other hand, she is a delicate fragile creature who has made a point of avoiding this sort of climate, and…
Mathias still has the third blanket, and the fire is going well enough that they objectively can stay on opposite sides of this space, and Nina decides it’s time to change the game.
He’s pretty, okay? He’s annoying and stubborn and honestly at this point him technically being The Enemy is relatively low on the list of reasons he’s stomping on her every last nerve, but the man has two things in his favor – he’s loyal, and he is very nice to look at. Nina does not historically have the attention span when it comes to that level of pretty, but this one has decided to make it difficult for her. Like, he can say up and down that he does not want her, but they’ve shared a sleep-space – “bed” is too nice a word for most of those situations – for a week or so and she doesn’t need words, she knows what she wakes up to.
And she knows how damn respectful he is, she thinks as she starts undoing her vest buttons. This outfit, while very cute two weeks ago before her entire life took a very undesired detour, was not made for seduction. But if she does it slow enough, she hopes she won’t set him off. The other time she had to deal with that element of things, he was polite and turned his back even though she didn’t ask him to, and she assumes the same will happen here and she’ll get nowhere and-
Okay, fine, it’s not like taking off her vest reveals anything outright explicit. The current light makes her shirt a little more see-through than it’s meant to be, but still. She is about as decent as she ever gets.
“What are you doing?” he asks, tone about as calm as she’s ever heard him.
“You do not need two blankets,” Nina counters. “I want.”
And oh does that phrase cover more than his little Fjerdan mind has probably ever thought of. All those comments he’s made about assuming she’s trying to seduce him? Yeah, hasn’t been the main goal yet but she’s thought about it. Seeing what she could do to him – she does not expect he’d take any initiative there, highly doubts he’s ever even kissed anyone – would not be the worst way to spend an evening. So, that’s part of the plan now. Make him squirm, get on top of him, and take her prize. Should be easy.
As if to prove her point, she starts loosening the laces of her shirt just enough to easily take it off. She hadn’t bothered to wear anything under it, another brilliant idea proving that two-weeks-ago Nina had questionable judgment in all things, and it is all too easy to push it up over her shoulders and off her arms and…
He’s still watching. He looks wide-eyed and possibly concussed, but he’s still watching.
If Nina were a different sort of person, and probably also if she had gotten laid within the past six months (for the record it has been eight and that cute little bartender with the long nails was a way better lover than she was an informant), she would cross her arms over her breasts and stop here and wait for whatever protective instincts Mathias has to kick in. Even given what she’s just done, she looks vulnerable and cute enough to wake him up like that, and-
“What are you doing?” he asks again, this time more hostile. Good. When he’s frustrated his voice gets all growly, and that does things to her, and-
“Can we get this over with?”
“This?”
“The part where we have questionable hatesex that I will forget ever happened within the next year and you will remember for the rest of your life because whatever little creature gets stuck with you someday will not fuck you like I want to.”
For a moment, she’s pretty sure she broke him. This is definitely not about the blanket anymore, and-
“I. Don’t. Hate. You.”
Nina laughs. “Yeah well you are deeper in denial than anybody I’ve ever met. I am everything that scares you and you are stuck with me and I’m not sure which part of your code I do not violate but I am sure you would’ve-”
“You saved my life. I owe you everything.”
“Cute. Obligation. Great reason to put up with someone but still do everything you can to drag your feet about it.”
“Why do you… want me?” He sounds all hesitant, and good grief has nobody ever told this man what he looks like? Or do all of his people look that good at that age… that’s plausible enough…
“Limited options right now. It’s you or my hand and you’re warmer.”
She is not sure what she’s expecting beyond not what he actually does.
Fine, so she’s been good and hasn’t looked more than she had to when he’s been in a state of undress. Watching him strip right now, layers of leathers and furs that are apparently frightfully easy to take off, is different. He is wanting her to watch, keeping his eyes on her the whole time until he is completely naked in front of her and… she can’t help licking her lips, he is pretty and she wants all of that all over her. Now.
“This or your hand,” he repeats in a way that suggests that at least she probably won’t have to explain the general patterns of female masturbation to him. “Make your choice.”
She about tackles him.
He’s built like a damn tree, Nina reminds herself in the process. Solid enough to handle her attempt at literally jumping him, which doesn’t exactly work but does throw off his balance for a moment, and she gets him pulled down for a bitey kiss. He has just a little bit of scruff now and she’d wanna see what that feels like between her legs but also she is pretty sure Fjerdan men do not do that and she doesn’t want to completely wreck him in one go, and while she still suspects all of this is new to him, he has good instincts.
Her skirt and underwear are feeling like too much of an undesired obstacle, so she undoes them with her free hand while trying to stick her tongue down his throat. So she’s a little aggressive, whatever, he’s clearly into it and nobody gets hurt by it.
“What do you need me to do,” he breathes, and oh he can admit being clueless, this is a treasure, this is-
She grabs his wrist and puts his hand between her thighs. “Poke around until you like the noises I’m making.”
Mathias has good hands. She’s known this for several days now, but it is a different thing to know it with one of said hands exploring her soft parts. She feels a fingertip inside her then quickly pulled back, another batting her clit back and forth with uncertainty. Then the finger inside her is back, and she knows how wet she is, and-
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.
“That’s why I’m leading. I’m not giving you the chance.”
But he couldn’t hurt her like this, she thinks. Not with his hands prepping her and a second finger up inside her and accidentally finding her sensitive spot, not with his prick hard against her belly, not with his mouth taking kisses as he learns what he likes. There is something inherently good in him and she worries for a moment that what they are about to do will break it, and yet-
“Get on your back,” she orders. Easier for both of them if she leads, she reminds herself.
He does without any complaint, and she takes a moment to enjoy the view. The solidness of him, for the next few minutes all hers. Would any of the girls he might get stuck with back home be able to handle this? And the way he’s looking up at her, a scared but willing participant in whatever she decides to do. Maybe he’s right. Maybe hatesex is the wrong word.
She straddles him, knees around his hips, and drops.
Blame the dry spell. Blame the absolute weirdness of the situation. Blame the fact that she is tired and hungry and cold. None of that matters. He feels good inside her and she makes a noise she cannot describe and-
“Am I…?”
“No. Feels good.”
She rolls her hips against his to prove a point, works him even deeper into her and leans down for more kisses. She can taste the shock and the innocence of him. This isn’t how he thought his first time would go, she is sure of it now, and yet he is allowing her and-
His hips jerk up and she makes a shocked little noise. “Do that again.”
He does, and she continues her pattern, and… it’s good, on her side. Not the best sex she’s ever had, but his hesitance is useful enough. She doesn’t trust him to say if he’s getting close, so she stays focused on his face, looking for signs, looking for-
She shifts her angle just a little bit, his prick hits the right spot inside her harder than she expects, and she shatters.
As she comes down, she sees that his expression has turned to something worse, scared and worried and unable to speak. He’s still hard inside her, at least, but he is motionless and cold and she doesn’t-
“Did I hurt you?”
Nina laughs. She shouldn’t, this is a legitimately valid question, but-
“No. What you just did felt amazing. Your turn.”
She resumes rolling her hips against his to indicate the conversation is over and she does not want to explain herself, and a few clenches of her inner walls later he spills inside her. It’s a beautiful thing to experience, the sudden warmth overlapping with the strangled gasp of surprise and-
“You know this means I have to marry you,” he says when he’s capable of coherent thought. “If there’s any chance…”
She shifts position so their bodies are no longer connected. “No. It doesn’t.”
“But I…”
“We’re too different,” she murmurs. “You know that. There’s nowhere safe. If anything… if the worst happens, I’ll lie.”
“Honor is honor. If there is even a chance-“
And oh, for a moment she wants it too. For a moment, she lets herself think about the impossibility of being all that she could be, both Grisha and wife, not forced to choose between her complexities. Unrealistic, she knows, a flighty daydream at best but she wants all the same.
“Nothing to worry about. My last cycle finished three days before your people tried to kill me, so… right now I can’t get pregnant.”
“Still. If it happened… I would stand by you.”
She kisses his face, covers the angles of him in wet kisses. “Good to know.”
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that-nd-infp · 3 years
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A Lesson In Dating As Someone With ADHD:
“Stop staring off like that, it makes you look rude and disinterested.”
That’s what my ex told me any time that would happen. The one time it stood out in particular was a day that we were at an unfamiliar, crowded restaurant, with a large group of people (most of which I didn’t know and was not comfortable with), after a stressful day full of activity and social interaction. There were so many sounds everywhere: people talking, ice clinking in the glasses, forks scraping the plates.
When that happens, my brain can’t process all of that input at once and some functions stop working. Usually it’s my sight. I end up staring off into the distance at nothing in particular and I essentially stop taking all visuals in. Everything blurs together and stops registering. People have told me before that I look like I’m in a trance. The more overwhelmed/overstimulated I am, the longer it lasts and the more often I do it. I can’t control it very well.
My ex was aware that I had social anxiety and that I was easily overwhelmed. He said that he understood and that he would support me. But when my social anxiety would affect the quality of our time spent together, or it would make him look bad, he would get frustrated. Suddenly it wasn’t okay anymore.
Often, I would also use my phone as a crutch in uncomfortable social situations. He told me it was rude to do, that it made him feel like I didn’t want to be with him or his family. So I would put my phone away and try to ignore my rapidly rising anxiety levels.
Despite taking away my coping mechanisms, he did nothing to help fill that gap. He still continued to pressure me into anxiety-inducing interactions and situations. He still put me on the spot constantly and stole so much more of my mental energy than I had to give. Then he would complain that it wasn’t enough.
No matter how many times I felt I explained that I couldn’t interact as often or intensively as he wanted me to, he still complained that I wasn’t calling him or texting him or getting together with him enough. Every free moment I had away from work I ended up giving to him, not out of want but out of guilt. Because of his own mental illness and emotional turmoil, I felt like it was selfish of me to withhold that from him. So I gave him so much more of myself than I had to spare and it left me feeling drained and exhausted and numb.
It took me months to process exactly what I was feeling and why. Why I was burned out. Why I was depressed. Why I was avoiding him. And why exactly I was so scared to confront those thoughts. He promised he listened to me even though he only heard what he wanted to hear. He told me he cared how I felt even though he disregarded that in favor of what he wanted.
I thought I was crazy, that I was just perceiving things wrong. I second-guessed myself until I didn’t know what was real anymore and I doubted all my memories. When I finally did sort through my thoughts enough and gained the courage to tell him I wanted to end the relationship, it didn’t go how I planned.
He told me he didn’t understand. He told me I never communicated any of those problems to him, and that I misinterpreted his words and actions. I second guessed myself again. He told me I didn’t know what I wanted. He told me it wasn’t fair of me to end things without giving him a chance, that he deserved another chance.
I had never felt so lost and confused in my life. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe he was right, maybe my memories were wrong. Maybe I forgot things. Maybe I misinterpreted things.
From everything I just described, my ex sounds like a bad guy. His actions were certainly harmful and unhealthy and did a lot of damage to me. There are details I’ve chosen to omit for the time being. But he’s not actually a bad person, and I’m going to explain why.
After years of analyzing all of that and trying to understand, I realize now that part of what he said was correct. While to me, I did communicate things, to him I didn’t. I’ve always struggled with direct communication, especially with regards to my own feelings. I sugarcoat everything; I fail to assert myself. I put it gently and indirectly. Making my needs clear felt selfish and I avoided it if I thought I could handle it, which was often. And that was when I would attempt to communicate. A lot of times I didn’t address problems because I didn’t know they were there. I had no idea I was depressed. I had no idea I was overwhelmed and burned out.
He was the kind of person that needed direct and blunt honesty. He needed things repeated. At the same time, he was too fragile for that. He took things personally and would spiral into a depression, so I felt even more scared of being direct. He didn’t understand his own emotions or how to express them in a stable or healthy way. He lacked social awareness. He was an impulsive and selfish and obsessive person. I enabled those behaviors with my own lack of communication in order to avoid what I assumed would be conflict because I didn’t want to hurt him. I felt that taking time for myself or responding to my own needs was selfish.
We were not compatible. Neither of us were aware of our own needs to the extent we each thought we were. Those needs conflicted. He needed way more attention and interaction than I was capable of giving. I needed way more space and alone time to process than he could give. I know in relationships sometimes both parties have to make sacrifices for each other, but your mental and emotional needs are not something you can sacrifice. I know that now. If we had each know ourselves better, this wouldn’t have happened. But we didn’t, and the relationship dragged on and on way past when it should have with me being miserable and him thinking anything was fine and having false hope. In the end we both got so much more hurt because of that.
My reason for sharing this story is to help others with ADHD/anything else understand this:
You need to make learning about yourself your priority. Understand yourself before you date anyone. Learn your strengths and weaknesses, your triggers and your limits, your needs, your coping mechanisms, your habits and behaviors. Learn all of them. Set boundaries in place to protect these things. Then learn how to express them to other people. Those around you cannot read your mind, they won’t know your needs unless you make them clear. If a person isn’t willing to learn those things and respect them for you, DO NOT DATE THEM.
Understand your needs and limitations and make them clear to those around you.
Do not date people who refuse to respect your mental and emotional boundaries.
Please.
Learn from my mistakes.
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sleepy-yn · 3 years
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His Eyes || Yamaguchi Tadashi
genre: angst, fluff warnings: one swear maybe NOT PROOFREAD summary: y/n and yamaguchi are crushing for one another. but y/n finds it hard to believe that Yamaguchi’s eyes are for her only because whenever she looks at him, he’s looking at someone else.
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For as long as you could remember, your brother was always protecting you. When you were kids and the older boys picked on you for wearing glasses and knowing how to read, he was always there to scare them off. In middle school, when you were told you were not good enough. The girls in your class told you guys didn’t like smart girls, they liked cute ones. Girls who needed protecting, laughed in a cute manner and didn’t talk as much. When Kei noticed you stopped trying in class and began shutting up whenever you caught yourself “talking too much”, he reminded you how the opinions of others should never matter to you. Others saw your twin as a cold-hearted person. He didn’t care for anyone, not even himself. But you knew they just didn’t understand him. Even now he continues to protect you from the truth.
Everyone knows Kei’s best friend, the only other person he cared about. You didn’t know what it was about Yamaguchi that made you like him. Was it the way he made sure to treat everyone with care even if they were a stranger? Or maybe it was the cute way he pouted when he couldn’t figure out a math problem. It still is a mystery but all that mattered was that you’ve loved him since you were 14. 
But there’s something Kei wasn’t telling you. Ever since you three entered high school, there was this girl that he couldn’t keep his eyes off. When the two had sleepovers (that you weren’t invited to) Yamaguchi often told him about the most beautiful girl he’s laid his eyes on. She had blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a permanent blush on her cheeks. It was so blatantly obvious that the boy had a crush on their manager. I mean sure, Yachi’s cute but Kei couldn’t help but feel bad for his little sister.
Tsukki knew about your crush on his best friend. He’s had to deal with your constant ramblings on how cute Tadashi was and how you wish he could like you back. But Kei knew that there was no chance of that ever happening. It made being around you so much harder, which is why he found himself avoiding you. 
This was unfortunate because you weren’t having the best time at school recently. You were so stressed and exhausted that you didn’t have the motivation to do anything. The rest of the volleyball team noticed how you weren’t yourself lately so every break they had was spent trying to cheer you up. 
“Cmon little ‘Shima, what’s up with you?” Tanaka crossed his arms.
“School is just so tiring lately, I just want to give up. On top of that, Kei doesn’t even hang out with me anymore. It’s like he’s avoiding me.” you shrug, leaning your head on the wall of the gym.
“Hm, it seems that there’s something deeper bothering you y/n-san” Suga drapes an arm over your shoulder. You guessed your secret would be safe with them. 
“Well it’s kinda hard to be happy when your crush doesn’t feel the same way,” you let your gaze fall on Yamaguchi’s figure. He always seemed to be smiling at something, his freckles (which you knew were scars) always made him seem so much softer. 
The team’s laughter broke you out of your thoughts.
“Are you kidding? Yamaguchi is wild for you. Every time you’re not looking, his eyes are always on you. It’s kinda cute,” Noya chuckles.
You found that hard to believe, “Yea? Well, every time I am looking at him he’s always looking at… her. Your eyes went in the same direction but this time you weren’t looking at Tadashi, they fell on Yachi.
“To be fair, y/n, Tadashi never seems interested in Yachi-san the way he is with you. There’s a difference in the way he looks at you.” Kiyoko speaks up, surprising the boys. You still were unconvinced. 
That night you laid in bed, holding a pillow to your chest. You were even more bored this night because the boys were having a sleepover that you weren’t invited to. In your own house! Your mind raced through everything the team had said and yet you were still doubting them. From a young age, you were aware that guys never went for girls like you. They liked cute girls, ones who weren’t so outspoken, had a cute laugh, needed protection. You didn’t fit the criteria in any shape or form. But you know who did? Yachi. 
Deciding to drown your sorrows in ice cream, you walked towards the kitchen. But conversation from Kei’s room stopped you in your tracks. 
“Tsukki you don’t understand! The way her hair looks in the light is so gorgeous since she’s blonde it makes her look like the sun itself. And oh, her cheeks. They always look so cute, like she has a permanent blush.” You didn’t care to listen anymore. You ran back to your room, not caring how much noise you were making. Falling onto the bed, your tears blurred your vision and your heart ached. It felt as if weights were pulling your heart down into the pit of your stomach. Your chest and throat felt tight as if you couldn’t breathe. 
“Y/N? Are you alright?” 
“Go away, Kei!”
“Im coming in then,”
The door opened and there stood your big brother, mask off and his eyes held not only hurt but sadness. He would never tell you but he really hated when you cried. It made him feel like he wasn’t doing a very good job as a big brother. 
“I’m sorry you had to find out that way,” he moved to give you a hug.
 You pushed him away, “You knew? How could you not tell me?” With every yell, you shoved him. But to your dismay, your brother is very sturdy and strong so it didn’t do much. 
Taking a pause from beating your brother with your fists, you sank to the floor and covered your teary eyes. 
“If you… if you knew that Yamaguchi liked Yachi why didn’t you say so? It would have saved me all this grief.” Your voice became quiet and everything was quiet. Until Tadashi entered the room. 
“Who told you that ridiculous lie?” Both you and Kei’s heads snapped up. 
“Yamaguchi, you were telling me about Yachi just 5 minutes ago!”
“You thought I was talking about Yachi-san? I thought you knew that I was talking about your sister.” He looked at you two like he does when he can’t solve a math problem.
“B-But you were just describing her perfectly” you sniffled.
He chuckled, kneeling to your level and holding your chin between his fingers. “Blonde hair? Your hair is extremely light, and in the sun it’s even lighter. You’re always cold and are always anxious, so your cheeks are constantly pink.” He gave you a small smile. “I’ve always had eyes for you.”
Before you started crying again, you pulled him into a tight embrace. Your brother took that as his cue to leave. Leaving you and Tadashi cuddling on the floor. 
“Hey, Tadashi,” 
“Hm?”
“I like you.”
He kissed your forehead, “I like you too, Y/N-san”
BONUS
He was pacing the corridor, thinking of all the ways the game could end today. He really didn’t want to screw the team over like he always does. 
“Yama,” you call out to him. He turns his head over to you, and for a second, he relaxes. You beckon him to sit in front of you. He obeyed. 
Bringing his face closer with your hands, you kissed one of his scars. 
“One for good luck,” another kiss, “One for strength. Another one, “One for all the worries to go away.” With every kiss of his scar, you reassured him that everything was okay. When you finished he pouted. 
“What’s wrong, hun?”
“You forgot one,” he tapped on his lips.
Chuckling you said, “Get us a win and maybe I’ll think about it.” That started your new pre-game routine. 
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becomingdrmommy · 3 years
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Today I get to celebrate Mother’s Day with the absolute love of my life. I have never in my life felt my heart as full as it is now. My precious baby boy was born last week at 5:47am and I can’t even find the words to describe how I feel. As I lay here watching him nap, I am amazed at not only myself, but at him and this amazing being that he is already. I can’t believe he’s already a week old.
So, birth story. I first noticed contractions around 11pm. They felt similar to the Braxton Hicks, but different at the same time. I went to the bathroom & noticed some bloody discharge. We had sex earlier so I didn’t pay it any mind tbh. It seemed like contractions were increasing in intensity and pretty quickly so I took out my app and decided to time them. Approx. 2 minutes apart and lasting about 1 minute each. Because I live so close to the hospital (and I was in denial I was in labor lol) I labored at home for another 2 hours. My water hadn’t broken so I wasn’t too concerned. But the intensity was not letting up so I finally convinced myself I was in labor. I could barely talk through the contractions when we decided to leave. We got to the hospital and I was 6cm. 100% effaced, 0 station. At this point, I’m begging for pain meds. I had just got to my L&D room. I originally wanted to go natural, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed something to take the edge off. I got checked & found out I was 8cm, 100% & at +3. Too far along for IV or an epidural. It was only about 45 minutes between triage and getting to my L&D room, but I was progressing quickly. Now I’m freaking out. I always said I was going to be controlled, but I was screaming and everything. My nurse was actually a friend which gave me an added comfort. I was begging her to just slide something into my IV. Luckily, I hit transition quickly. I only pushed for like 30 minutes. Once my OB got there, baby was out in 3 pushes. No epidural, no IV meds, no tearing. I’m extremely proud of myself. From the time I noticed contractions to birth, it was about 6 hours total. I got to the hospital around 1am so once I arrived, it was only 4 hours until baby arrived. It was such a surreal experience. I’m amazed at what my body was capable of doing. I’m amazed at my son.
He is so perfect in every single way. 7 pounds, 10 oz. 21 inches of love. All of his vitals were great. He’s eating and voiding like he should. When we went for his check up appt, he had already made it back to his birth weight. The only concern was a bit a jaundice, but his bili levels came back within a normal limit so we’re in the clear. He’s just the sweetest baby. He doesn’t really cry or fuss (unless I’m taking too long to whip my breast out lol) all he does is eat and sleep. His little baby cuddles are the absolute best. I could hold him all day.
I am walking away with an umbilical hernia which were hoping will go away on its own and won’t need surgical repair. It seems to be going down and it’s no longer painful. Keeping it wrapped up until my follow up appt. I’m still sore, but at a manageable pain level. The exhaustion is real. Sleep when the baby sleeps is cute advice, but let’s be real...there is still cleaning to be done, eating, enjoying a moment of stillness lol. Our moms have been “helpful.” I expected them to be helping with cooking and cleaning, but all they do is sit and hold and play with our son. And then get mad when we get up to clean and everything. Talking about, “y’all need to rest.” Well we could rest if you’d help us out. I’m kind of just ready to be alone with our baby. All in all, this week has been absolutely amazing. I’m officially a mom and I’m so in love with this new title that I’ve gained. He means the absolute world to me and it’s hard to imagine a life without him. He’s so perfect. I love him so much.
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