#i don’t think anyone can ever sincerely love me I’ve loved a lot of different people over the years but never anyone who loved me back

[ishades]

.

#hmmm ignore me but I think I might as well talk about it here #less people likely to see it this way! #I always joke about how I want to get divorced but honestly? #not a joke. I don’t think marriage is for me #i don’t think anyone can ever sincerely love me I’ve loved a lot of different people over the years but never anyone who loved me back #like even in actual relationships it wasn’t love or even ‘like’ #i think it’s a self destruction thing partially? maybe I don’t have the words to describe it because otherwise I’d be laid TOO bare #i want to relearn liking myself after a harsh breakup and reconstruct myself like I’m made of clay into something #unrecognizable and new but still touched by the hands that shaped me… but I get to be me #i want someone to look at me and know I’ve never been more beautiful than before things ended #and even if they want me again perhaps for the first time in ages… that they’ll know I slipped away and they’ll never have me again #i think this desire could even be born out of watching the women in my life irl drive themselves into the ground #and develop the worst self esteem issues and be suicidal while trapped in marriages where the spark isn’t there #maybe I want to divorce someone because they never will #maybe I would rather entertain thoughts of divorce in my future then think about the now #i feel very unwanted in every aspect of life but especially in the romance department #like… unfulfilled I guess? i think I take clear cut rejection better than anything else #and existing in limbo sort of has me trying to mentally run away #it DOESNT help that I feel like the other shoe is going to drop any minute #i feel like something big is coming bigger than god and maybe it’ll destroy me #so I’d rather think about having a massive romantic falling out with a stranger #than deal with anything irl that’s going on… especially when everything’s just so… immutable #i understand and empathize with anyone who is a child of divorce so I try to keep jokes to a minimum #but I wonder if divorce just means different things to different people? #anyways I want to become a divorced ILF without any kids tangled in the divorce #digital digital i wanna get digital

[daggerspare-standingby]

The Chase - Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Wow. The amount of love I’ve received on this fic is absolutely overwhelming and I’m so incredibly grateful. Thank you so so much!

It’s a little too soon for a complete love confession but there is a bit of fluff sprinkled throughout. The rest of it, is coming I promise!

No warnings for this one except Jake being a lovesick fool for someone who’s a little mean to him

Here is Part 2

—

There they were, the damn butterflies that were erupting in your stomach at his caring, but you were determined not to let it show. He doesn’t get to state some claim on you because he saved you from cracking your skull open. “I’ve gotten home alone plenty of times without you before, what’s so different about tonight?” He was quiet for a beat before he answered, his tone laced with sincerity “because I want to spend as much time with you as I can” you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips “Hangman, that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, and I’ve heard your pickup lines.” Continuing to walk towards your little rental on the beach, which wasn’t far from the bar making it the perfect location, “I’m starting to think you just want to know where I live, but it doesn’t mean you’re getting invited in.” You cast him a sideways glance, his hands in his pockets walking equally in stride with you, you could tell he was thinking about something very deeply, and also making a conscious effort to stay beside you.

The rest of the walk to your place was quiet, except for your footsteps, until you got to your small bungalow, you stopped at the walkway entrance and turned to face him again. You were surprised he walked the entire way without saying a word. “That must have been the longest you’ve ever gone without hearing your own voice huh?” He looked at you with a small smile forming on his lips “you can be really mean you know that.” You rolled your eyes “I’m not mean Hangman, I’m tired, and cranky and a little drunk”. You watched warily as he leaned on the fence post, his eyes not leaving yours, that smirk still on his face “can I buy you dinner some time?” You couldn’t have helped the surprise on your face if you wanted to “didn’t you just say I was mean to you? And you want to take me to dinner?” He nodded “it’s hot when you’re mean. And I want to know why you won’t call me by my name and only insist on calling me by my callsign, when it’s not the case for anyone else.” You shook your head and sighed “I’m working every night this weekend. I don’t have time to go to dinner.” He scoffed and stood up straight “you have to eat sometime, and there’s places open on weekdays too. Just give it a thought when you’re sober… I’ll see you tomorrow.” You chewed your cheek “goodnight…” as you turned to walk up the stairs to your place, you glanced back seeing him still standing at the end of your walkway. A small amused smile crept across your lips “are you gonna stand there all night?” He shook his head “nah, just til you get inside.” You nodded slowly, “goodnight…Jake.” You walked into the house before you could hear or see his reaction, of his face lighting up and the small fist pump he did as you closed the door. He was falling hard and fast for you, now all he had to get you to do was realize he wasn’t a complete asshole all the time.

Laying in bed that night was not different from any other night, except your hand still felt the weight of his where he was holding it. Sighing and rolling over onto the side you hugged your pillow, a sliver of moonlight shining through the curtains where the ocean breeze blew in from the beach, slowly you drifted off to sleep. Jake returned to the hard deck parking lot and got into his truck, thinking about the conversation he’d had with Javy while you were in the washroom.

“If you really have feelings for her, you need to stop leaving every night with those tag chasers dude.” Javy had handed in the pool cue to Bob and took up residence at a nearby high top table, his beer still in his hand. “I don’t go home with them, the most we get is a heavy makeout session outside the bar, I honestly can’t go any farther because I just see her face and hear her voice echoing in my head when I do. That’s why they all are the complete opposite of her.” Javy shook his head “listen, and listen good ‘cause I’m only going to tell you this one time. If you like her, show her that. Forget the other girls, prove to her that you’re not the guy with his name on the bathroom stall for a good time call.” Jake nodded, considering his friend's words. If anyone was to give relationship advice it was Javy. He’d been with his high school sweetheart for almost 20 years, and 5 of those have been married. Jake would love to have a relationship like that, would kill for it. But he knew that their job was dangerous, what if he never came back? It was a fear that plagued him, he knew especially after Coyote’s g-lock experience that it was a fear for his friend too. That’s why Jake never wanted to settle down, at least until he met you. He knew you were tough, you could probably handle it, him being gone for weeks at a time, though the dagger squad’s deployments were few and far between it was never entirely unavoidable. That’s why he strived to be the best of the best, but could he be the best of the best, for you?

—

Trying to figure out the tag list thing so If I miss you I’m so sorry!

@mayhemmanaged

@horseshoegirl

@dizzybee03

@kmc1989

@lynnevanss

@midnightmagpiemama

@djs8891

@blue-aconite

@rosiahills22

@hecate-steps-on-me

@cherrycola27

@roosterbruiser

@mak-32

@paigewinchester67

@potatothatcanwrite

@potato-girl99981

@theharddeck

@thedroneranger

@hangmandruigandmav

@themusingofagothicsoul

@wayward-river

@perfectprettypisces

@86laura11

@beyondthesefourwalls

Let me know your thoughts! Thank you again so so much

#the chase #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman fic #Hangman x bartender!reader #jake x reader

[nahoney22]

Good morning/afternoon/evening everyone. I hope you’re all well and drinking lots of water.

First of all, I want to say thank you for the love and support I have received these last few weeks following that anon. My heart is full and made me remember my worth.

Secondly, my hiatus is not over.

This is just a quick post to let everyone I am fine, works/requests have still been done and queued and I am just checking to see if they have been posted to which they are. So, thank you for all the support on them. I had a feeling my ‘First Kiss’ headcanons would be favoured 🤍

To everyone who has privately messaged me, I have read your messages but I genuinely just do not have the strength to reply to anyone at the moment. The same goes to reading things I have been tagged in but once I’m more with it again, I’m going to read and reblog everything.

And to the people who think they can sit behind a screen and ridicule people who you don’t even know wether it be difference of opinions, a strange hate towards a community etc… fuck you. Sincerely, fuck you. I’ve received horrible anons for a while and although 90% don’t bother me. That last one bothered me. But, I’m a better person than you will ever be. So have a good day.

Thank you all.

#it’s not goodbye #just a see you later #nahoney22 personal #just an update

[minkkumaz]

SOMEONE OLDER

la poésie romantique. words spoken passionately, yet holding no sincere meaning when spoken by all your past loves. but he held the key to your heart that no man ever could, establishing the belief that you didn't need anyone other than him; not even your own father. because myungho could treat you right, couldn't he?

PAIRING ji myungho x fem!reader WC 1.7k TAGS angst. suggestive themes. toxic college professor myungho. slight manipulation. reader has daddy issues. OMI NOTE this is.. extremely different from anything i've written but i saw an edit of myungho to 'someone older' by isabel larosa and it genuinely changed my life. idk how im gonna get away with this but i do not get paid to gaf END OF STORY!

father never taught you to stray away from boys that wouldn't treat you right, and nobody ever taught boys to hold a heart with care; instead breaking it recklessly. the constant rotation between showing love and begging for forgiveness stripped energy from your body like a piece of clothing. it might as well have been, because that would be easier, right?

maybe it was the way you looked. it was only your left shoulder on full display, as your slightly large tee - shirt clinged onto you. you had only assumed the boy was being nice by placing a calloused hand on your soft skin, pulling up the material slightly before smiling at you. the pull of his lips were sweet, masking something sinister underneath. such a small gesture made you so naive, it was your own fault getting involved with him. those memories became a puddle of mush, left in the past.

but it wasn’t just boys of his stature, it was boys in general. ill thoughts swarmed your head rapidly. a sense of self doubt, regret, vengeance. it left you in a forever state of numbness, zoning out into a false reality you wish you could call your own. a reality with a man that would treat you right.

the sound of gears turning in the clock on the wall was where your focus lay, emerging yourself in the tick tock, tick tock. each of your senses slowly depleted from your body, leaving you with the round device against the off - white wall. 

a hand slightly slamming against the desk in front of you cut into your mind like a knife.

“zoning out again, aren’t we, miss y/n?” professor ji spoke out, eyes like daggers, “see me after class.”

you nodded sheepishly, feeling the weight of the moment escape from your mouth in a breathy exhale as he went back to instruct the class. 

in an attempt to ignore the stares of your peers burning into your skull, you slid down in your seat. maybe they were looks of pity, or quite possibly hints of jealousy. yet time couldn’t pass any quicker, as you returned to the never - ending tick of the clock.

meeting a teacher after the bell rang was never on your roster, let alone with your stupidly attractive english professor. it wasn’t a secret how desirable he was. you could only hear seductive comments made about the way he left his shirt slightly unbuttoned, leather jacket draped around the back of his chair and not his shoulders.

students filed out in a fast - paced manner, painting the room to seem much bigger without as many people crowding the seats. your professor followed quietly behind the crowd, closing the door as soon as everyone had been gone. this left the two of you alone, as well as the familiar clock ticking in the background.

your heart became heavy in your chest, watching his tall figure approach you like a predator stalking it’s prey.

“y/n.” professor ji says your name sternly, “care to tell me how boring my lessons are that you haven’t been paying attention?” 

“professor– it’s not like that, i promise.” you stuttered out in an attempt to defend yourself, “i’ve had a lot on my mind recently and it’s getting the better of me.”

“why don’t you contact the campus counselor? i’m sure mr. yoonsung would love to assist you in whatever problem you have in that head of yours.” he suggests.

“i don’t think i can do that sir. things are a lot more complicated than they might seem. but i swear, i’ll try to keep myself in check.”

“you don’t think you can do that?” he laughs almost mockingly, picking up a pencil on your desk to spin between his bony fingers, “i might need a better reason than that.”

“this is so embarrassing..” you sigh in defeat, “it’s about my love life, professor ji. i don’t mean to be rude, but none of that is quite relevant to you, let alone any teacher on campus. so while i respect your request for me to seek outside advice, that won’t be happening.”

“so i’m just any teacher to you? miss y/n, i’m unsure that you understand who i am to you.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you chose to major in english when you enrolled here. so i’d assume you would put effort not only into this class, but the person teaching it to you.” he states with an almost threatening tone, making your stomach queasy. 

a cat had gotten your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say in a situation where you felt you had to defend yourself. this made his lips perk up into a smile, taking the pencil he was holding to tilt your chin up slightly by the eraser end.

“i’ve only ever wanted to help you, y/n. almost like it’s my job.” he tells you, “you excel in every single assignment i give you, up until recently. dont let a beautiful mind like yours be so easily manipulated by a college frat boy.”

“this isn’t my fault, you make it seem much easier than it sounds.” your bottom lip quivers slightly at the position he has you in, yet also because he’s correct in his assumption.

“when you get an idea in your head, you find it in everything. do you remember who said that quote?”

“victor hugo. we’re learning about works in other languages to broaden our knowledge, so of course i remember.”

“your idea of love is tainted, hence why you let yourself get hurt. am i wrong?” he reads you like a book.

you nod at him, feeling your throat become dry. each of your senses were heightened, the cold rubber eraser under your chin being replaced by the tip of his finger. the state of your mind was vulnerable, crowded only by the idea of him and his frigid gaze.

a shiver ran down your spine as if it was being chased, his face creeping closer to yours until it was inches apart. 

“do you know what you want in a relationship?” he spoke, breath barely grazing against your lips because of the remaining distance. when you didn’t speak, his face contorted into an expression just a little bit colder, “you respond to authority when spoken to. don’t jeopardize your status in my class because you can’t answer a simple question. remember that i just want to help you.”

“i want someone to care for me as much as i care for them.” you finally let out with a sob, guilt washing over you for not giving a clearer response. 

“that was easy, wasn’t it? my poor y/n, not being treated properly because nobody quite knows how to.” he chuckles lowly, wiping a singular tear that rolled down your cheeks, “now that you know what you want, what do you need?”

“i– i don’t know, professor ji.” you pout.

“you already said it out loud. use your words to tell me.” his hand traveled around to the back of your head, gripping at your hair to move your head more upwards.

“i think i need someone older.” your words sounded distressed, yet they were all he needed to hear. 

“there you go.” he lets go of your hair, a switch in demeanor as he smiles at you, “come here.”

walking back to his desk, he leaves you in a pile of muck and confusion at your own. for someone you can hardly read, something about him makes you want to learn. 

you scoot your chair back, the sound of it scraping against the hard floors making you wince slightly. with each step approaching him, your heartbeat quickened. professor ji had always been an enigmatic figure on campus. young, passionate in his interests, and everything you were starting to think you needed in someone. 

maybe you wanted him to be passionate in you. 

“is this wrong?” you ask quietly, now face to face with him.

“there’s a flaw in your question, especially since you already know the answer, miss y/n.” he coos, reaching to move a loose strand of hair away from your face, “father wouldn’t tell you right from wrong. such a terrible man, isn’t he? so let me tell you what you deserve to hear.” 

“he’s not terrible, he just loves me differently.” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to defend your dad, but words came out before you could think.

“don’t get it twisted; those who love you warn you about the consequences others actions could have on a person. trust that i could protect you more than any man could.” he said with envy underlying his tone.

“yes, sir.” you shake your head yes, tears starting to burn your eyes with what you couldn’t determine if it was happiness or culpability.

“call me myungho.” he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands, rough against your soft skin, “now let me take care of you, then you could take the weight off my shoulders.”

myungho brought your face closer to his, almost immediately closing the gap that separated the boundaries between professor and student. this barrier was destroyed in the span of seconds, his lips locking perfectly with yours. they were soft, barely chapped, and meant for you.

it was a rhythmic harmony that flowed perfectly like words on a page, pulling you deeper and deeper until you couldn’t pull away; too infatuated to stop and so unaware you couldn’t bother to give a shit at the thought of someone walking in.

he had you right where he wanted you, the objective that nobody other than him could hold your heart careful enough not to split it in half. 

the kiss escalated, making your lips puffy and red as they were attacked by his. one of myungho’s hands wrapped around your waist to pull you close. your arms were tucked into your chest, unsure where to put them.

once he finally pulled away from you, a string of saliva kept both of you attached, breaking away quickly. his eyes were dark, yet not in a way that would seem intimidating. a look you’ve never seen before.

you were ready to find out.

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

#⋆｡˚ my works #8turnweb #myungho x reader #ji myungho x reader #myungho angst #myungho 8turn #8turn myungho x reader #8turn x reader #8turn angst #8turn imagines #8turn drabbles #8turn fluff #8turn x you #8turn myungho #8turn myhungho x reader #8turn #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop angst #kpop imagines

[digimon-fr]

Cancelling DMFR: Reasons and What Now...

TLDR: I’m extremely burnt out with this story due to my own hubris, and would like to close this chapter of my life. Read below for more details. Hello everyone...

I apologize for leaving you all in the dark for so long. This was a bandage I was extremely reluctant to rip off because of the love people had for this little fan project. But it’s something I must address all the same. You’ve probably noticed that updates to DMFR have gradually petered out over time and have basically come to a complete stop. This is because as time went on, I started to fall out of love with Digimon, the fandom, and consequentially, this big-little story I’ve had knocking around in my brain since 2008 (ie. Since I was a young teenager). While my relationship with the Digimon franchise is starting to gradually be repaired with the love being put into the new Ghost Game anime, the beautifully nostalgic art in the new card game, and the immense fun that is the Vital Bracelet series, I do find my self struggling to come back to the fandom, and more importantly this story.

I have changed so much since I first started posting this story in 2014, and even more so since thinking about it in 2008. There is still plenty to love about it, but also a lot I’d probably would have done very differently. My ability to pace myself and plan out a story of multiple character arcs has improved so much, and my past self did not do a very good job of laying down the tracks for my future self. I should have made chapter outlines, I should have given myself a schedule instead of posting when ever, I should have given myself breaks when I needed them. But I didn’t and the immense pressure from the standards I set for myself began to weigh so much that any spark I had left was entirely snuffed out. All this is to say that I am very burnt out with this story. I’m no longer excited to work on it, I’m kicking myself for making it so difficult to work on in the first place, and my drive to finish it is gone because of how poorly I handled it for myself.

I hope that writing this out, anyone else who is hoping to make a grand epic series can learn from my mistakes. Inspiration is POWERFUL in making art, but a massive piece of art like this can not live off of inspiration alone. You need to pace yourself and take care of yourself so you don’t come to dislike what you are making in time. Because it’s never fun to fall out of love with something that used to bring you so much joy, and I would never wish that on anyone.

So now what?

I am going to try and take better care of myself, and continue to pursue passion projects that still bring me joy. You are welcome to join me, but I also completely understand if you do not want to. Regardless, thank you for all your support in the past, please take care of yourself, and may your spirit stay strong.

Sincerely, AK-Illustrate

#story #tagging so people know what happened #thank you for you're understanding

[thosewildcharms]

i was tagged by @theyarebothgunshot to talk about 8 shows to get to know me. thank you for tagging me! putting this under the cut because i ramble.

In no particular order:

1: the oc/gossip girl: yeah okay i’m cheating right off the bat by conflating these two but i don’t care it makes sense! besides being from the same creator/production team, i think in many ways they are natural inverses of each other (west coast/east coast, new money/old money, evolving beyond what people expect of you vs buying into your own propaganda etc). listen i am a sucker for teen dramas, always have been and always will be, and i think these two changed the game in a BIG way. neither are thee mothership of the genre (i think that goes to beverly hills 90210???) but they are both so compelling in different ways and i very often find myself thinking about them (also in very different ways) years after watching them, and subconsciously compare characters on other shows to the main cast of each and they always fall short (you will never be blair waldorf you will never be seth cohen etc). plus the soundtracks! incredible. i can talk about the oc in particular for days and how it has what every other teen show secretly needs (sandy cohen) but this is already too long and i need to shut up.

2. miranda (bbc): listen. LISTEN. i re-watch this show every year without fail. it is the ultimate cozy feel good show that also somehow punches me in the face with how much of an Experience it is. i can’t describe to you what it was like watching this silly little comedy for the first time, getting sucker punched so thoroughly (in the best way) over and over and then to finally have the most satisfying conclusion i could have imagined. references from this show take up a not-insignificant amount of my vocabulary and i quote it daily. it’s so good. i love it so much.

3. friday night lights: anyone who has watched this show knows why. it’s so hard to explain, it’s just good. as someone who has never given even the slightest shit about any sports game of any kind, i think the highest compliment i could give this show is that it made me cry about football more than once. the only people i know who don’t love this show simply have not seen it (actually, people don’t talk about this show enough anymore?? that’s so sad). when i think of my favorite shows, i always have to include fnl because it’s just so sincerely excellent. i own two fnl t-shirts and i will gush about it unprompted if you give me even the tiniest window to do so. texas forever, clear eyes full hearts etc. micheal b jordan you will always be vince howard to ME.

4. gilmore girls: this one actually surprises even me because i never talk about it on tumblr dot com lol but i literally have it on as background noise as i type and it’s almost always my default when i just want to put something on that’s comforting. it’s weird because i can’t really say i LIKE the show as a whole but it’s so cozy (at least the first five seasons) and i do have a LOT of opinions about it, but in a kind of low-stakes way where it’s fun to think about instead rage-inducing. it’s strangely enough, something i can talk about for hours (and often do) without even realizing it.

5. smallville: oh my god the way i was obsessed with this show in middle school lmaoo the way it’s not technically GOOD but also it kind of is? full disclosure i’ve only seen the last few seasons like, once but i used to have the first five or six seasons practically MEMORIZED. it’s a good time, and while i don’t know much about the superman comics (or any comics) it’s my....favorite? iteration of superman that i’ve seen? idk, i thought tom welling and kristin kreuk were the two most beautiful people i’ve ever seen in my life and i loved watching them make out. also michael rosembaum was an incredible lex luthor and i stand by that. i also find myself talking about this show a lot in real life.

6. lost: one thing about me is that i WILL go off about how the lost finale was good actually and NO they were not dead the entire time you idiot -  at any given opportunity. it IS one of the five petty, inconsequential hills i will die on. it’s a good show with a good and fitting ending FIGHT ME ABOUT IT. also sawyer/juliet supremacy their reunion scene in the finale is the scene i compare all other romantic scenes to. nothing compares. scene of all time.

7. hey arnold: i know it’s a cartoon shut up! but consider this: it’s beautiful and good. i legitimately watch it all the time because it’s so funny and melancholy and sad and smart and the soundtrack slaps. also finally getting the jungle movie (which was a conclusion to a HUGE cliffhanger from my childhood) was proof that sometimes you can get closure, actually! this happened before reboots became unnecessary and exhausting leave me alone

8. supernatural: i watched this show after thee november fifth and it accidentally became my whole personality. i don’t even know.

honorable mentions: selfie abc (if you haven’t heard me whine about how it’s the one show in the world i actually want a reboot for you simply haven’t known me long enough); my mad fat diary (i will be thinking about finn writing ‘i love you’ on rae’s back for the rest of my life), ugly betty (i just love it a lot)

tagging: @bisansastarks @buttobstacle @mmaddens @richonnies @dwcas, @coachlasso @wordybee @ilarual @hauntedpearl @burgundyshoes @someoldlady @that-gender-bender @bananaleaves @korralone and anyone else who sees this and would like to do it!

#this was so fun thank you bestie!!! #tagging people who i think would enjoy this or that i would genuinely like to get to know/see what you say but again no pressure <33 #tumblr dot com #meme

[laundrybiscuits]

(NOTE: awkward handjobs beneath the cut. This could possibly be read as a continuation of previous snippets, if you wanted it to be.)

“It’s like, all this stuff I’ve been doing has been moves, okay. If he were a girl he’d already be wearing my letterman jacket.”

“Steve, please tell me you don’t still have your letterman jacket.” 

“That’s not—I mean, I’m not gonna just throw it out, why would I throw it out? That’s not the point! The point is, I’ve been pulling out all the stops, and he’s not giving me anything. Good, bad, nothing. It’s like he doesn’t even know I’m hitting on him.”

“Well…” Robin sets down the magazine she’s been flipping through and frowns at him. They’re in her bedroom with the door wide open because the Buckleys like Steve, but they don’t trust him. Mrs. Buckley has been popping up to see if they need snacks about every ten minutes.

“Robbie. I brought him flowers.” 

“To his show! And you threw them at him like you were making a joke!”

She’s not totally wrong, is the thing. But Steve's in a weird situation where he knows how to do this, but he doesn’t know how to do this.

He’s been shot down a lot, no matter what people say. Plenty of girls liked him, but plenty more didn’t. So he knows that asking someone out means taking a risk.

He doesn’t know how to take this kind of risk.

If Eddie’s never even thought about this kind of thing, it could really seriously fuck everything up for Steve. Just in terms of their whole dynamic. He doesn’t think that Eddie would tell anyone, probably. And, well…even if he did, who would believe him? Robin would smack Steve if he ever said something like that, but it’s true. Steve doesn’t have to like it for it to be true. But the important thing is that Eddie would know, and Eddie wouldn't forget.

What Steve needs is a way to ease Eddie into the whole idea.

He’s been quiet too long, and Robin sighs. “Hey, dingus. I know it’s scary. Welcome to what the rest of us deal with on a daily basis, without the benefit of being Steve Harrington.” She makes these dorky little jazz hands when she says his name. Steve loves her so much.

“I just feel like every time I, y’know, flirt with him, it just…slides right off. He’s not getting it.”

Robin snorts. “Guess you’ll actually have to bang him, maybe then he’ll get a clue.” 

“Guess so,” says Steve. He sits up. “Wait.”

“No,” says Robin. “No no no, I’m calling veto on this. No.”

“Yeah, no, this will work. As long as I don’t tell him I like him, it’ll go great.” Steve snaps his fingers as the idea takes shape. “Yeah, actually, it’s perfect. I’m good at sex with girls, I’m pretty sure I’ll be good at sex with Eddie, I just need to get him to go along with it for a while. Just until I can prove I’m prime boyfriend material.” 

“I cannot fucking believe you,” says Robin. The swearing is pretty new for her. Steve worries sometimes that he’s being a bad influence. “This is…of all your incredibly terrible plans, this one is the most absolute dogshit. You’re going to trick Eddie Munson into dating you, with sex.”

“Not trick,” say Steve. “Convince. Just, you know, let him know that I’m a good option. He’s got options. He should know he’s got options.”

———

He plans it all out. He doesn’t want Eddie to think it’s a date and get scared off, so he wears an old shirt with a couple unfashionable holes near the hem, doesn’t fully style his hair, sure as hell doesn’t bother with cologne. But the shirt’s thin and soft enough to drape nicely across his chest, and he makes sure he’s well-showered and looking good by the time Eddie shows up.

It’s kind of nice, taking this much care. He doesn’t have to think too hard about it. He might not have gotten the best grades or whatever, but he’s always been good at this kind of thing: finding the balance between too casual and not casual enough. He knows how to play things just sincere enough to make girls feel special and wanted, but not so sincere that they get turned off. 

Sure, it’s a little different with Eddie. With guys in general, probably. But Steve isn’t too worried.

So after they polish off a large pizza and a couple of beers, when the easy conversation hits a natural lull, Steve angles his body towards Eddie on the couch and says: “Hey, I’ve been thinking about your whole, y’know, girlfriend situation.”

“What girlfriend situation, Harrington?”

“Exactly,” says Steve, like he’s already won. “I know it’s been a while for you.” 

He falters a little; he’d vaguely meant to say something really cool and casual at this point, but nothing’s coming to mind. Instead, he says, “I was thinking, if you want…”

He’s hoping Eddie will pick up on what he’s saying. Eddie just sits there silently, frowning. 

Steve sighs. “I’m just saying, I could help you out. I know that when it’s been a while for me, I’m not too picky.”

“You trying out matchmaking again, Stevie?” Eddie drawls, but Steve thinks he says it in a way that means he knows what Steve’s really saying. His shoulders look tense.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Don’t be such a tough guy, just let me give you a hand.” He makes an illustrative gesture.

Eddie’s eyes go wide, and he lets out a breathless little laugh that goes soundless at the edges. “Wow, I—you’ve really been striking out with the ladies, huh?”

“Maybe,” says Steve, still leaning close. He lets his voice drop a little, and hopes it works on guys as well as it does on girls. “Maybe I’m just looking to switch things up. C’mon, Eddie, don’t you want something easy for a change?”

Eddie laughs that weird choked half-laugh again. 

“Shit, man. Jesus christ. This…is a really bad idea.” 

Steve can see the flush in Eddie’s cheeks and the way he’s breathing faster than normal, so he pushes. Just a little bit. He thinks maybe Eddie wants to be pushed, the way he’s looking. 

“Okay, but you’re gonna say yes anyway, right?”

Eddie closes his eyes. His face changes a little. Steve’s not completely sure, but he thinks Eddie looks sort of sad or maybe hurt, which makes his gut twist in guilt. He’s about to back off and apologize, try and laugh it off, when Eddie opens his eyes again and says, “Yeah, Harrington. Yeah. I’m saying yes anyway.” 

“Cool,” says Steve, and doesn’t reach out immediately like he wants to. He doesn’t get grabby. He just sits back and looks at Eddie for a second. Eddie gets more and more fidgety, and when he starts to curl in on himself all shy, Steve reaches out and grabs his upper arm to tug him in. 

Eddie goes along with it easy enough. He lets himself be pulled into Steve’s lap, denim stretched over his splayed thighs in a way that makes Steve’s mouth water. He meets Steve’s eyes when Steve says “Hey,” real quiet and smooth as silk, and he nods like Steve asked a question. 

He’s biting his lip. It’s not in a teasing way, he’s really chewing on it. He’s not trying to be sexy. Steve’s not sure he even knows he’s doing it. 

Steve reaches for Eddie’s fly, and he’s annoyed to realize that his hands are shaking a little. He anchors them in Eddie’s belt loops as he tries to ease the zipper down. It’s not that easy, between how wide Eddie’s legs are spread and the rapidly growing bulge in his boxers. Eventually, he has to say, “Scoot back a little, dude.” 

���Sorry, sorry,” says Eddie, practically gasping, and scoots back a little. When Steve finally manages to get Eddie’s dick out, they both pause. 

This kind of thing, it’s not something you can take back or laugh off. The stakes are so high. It feels like it’s the most dangerous thing Steve’s ever done. He knows it’s probably not true, but it still feels that way. 

Before he can psych himself out too much, Steve spits in his hand and starts jerking Eddie off. He doesn’t try to tease or anything. The angle’s not exactly what he’s used to, and he thinks his wrist might start complaining if he does this too long, but it’s not so different from how he usually takes care of business.

Except that he doesn’t usually have Eddie Munson heavy in his lap, breathing hard like Eddie’s just run a marathon. He’s not usually focused in on how Eddie’s reacting to every little thing, how firm to make his grip so that Eddie will whine under his breath in a dazed kind of way. 

He’d been right, back when he’d first started thinking in a serious way about doing this with Eddie; it’s a hell of a thing.

Eddie’s hands start out hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them. They land on Steve’s shoulders, tentatively at first, and then gripping harder as Steve starts changing it up just a little more, twisting on the upstroke, thumbing over the head.

“Yeah,” Steve says when Eddie’s hips start really twitching. He hadn’t meant to say anything, but Eddie had been so polite, almost, and now…

Eddie’s fucking my hand, Eddie’s fucking me, thinks Steve wildly, and says “Yeah,” again out loud and mostly on purpose. “C’mon, Eddie. There you go. Baby. C’mon.” 

Eddie lets out a helpless little noise that Steve wants to hear again and again on a loop forever, tipping forward, forehead clumsily knocking into Steve’s. Steve slides his other hand up from where it’s been clutching Eddie’s thigh and pushes under Eddie’s shirt, around his back, holding him close. 

When Eddie comes, grinding hard into Steve’s grip, he tips forward and kisses Steve. It’s not even a real kiss, though, Eddie just tilts his head and slides his mouth across Steve’s kind of desperately. Steve thinks it probably doesn’t count, even as he’s pushing up to meet Eddie, seeking Eddie’s clever pretty mouth and his clever pretty tongue, wanting it all, wanting anything Eddie will let him take. 

Eddie pulls back, and Steve chases him mindlessly. Eddie’s hands come up to cradle Steve’s face, keeping him where he is but not moving away. Steve squirms a little. Eddie’s just looking at him. Eddie’s face is still flushed and his chest is still heaving. Steve wants to push his shirt up and bite. He’s still almost totally clothed, they both are, but Steve is going out of his mind with how hot it is to have Eddie’s thighs around him with Steve’s hand wrapped around his softening dick. Steve managed to catch most of the spunk in his palm, and he has to push down an urge to do something with it. He’s not even sure what. He maybe wants to offer his hand to Eddie, just to see what Eddie will do. Instead, he wipes it off on his own shirt.

Steve’s having some trouble focusing, but he sees Eddie’s expression go soft. Eddie leans in again, hands still firm and careful on Steve’s face, and kisses him very quickly and neatly. 

“Okay, Harrington,” Eddie says. Steve can feel his breath when he talks. “My turn. Let me return the favor.”

Eddie gently pushes away the hand that Steve still has snagged on his waistband, tucking himself back in. He zips up his jeans but doesn’t button them. He sits back and looks down, biting his lip the way he was doing earlier, and Steve has the sudden technicolor thought that Eddie might slide down to the floor and open his mouth, let Steve push in and in to that hot wet space.

He doesn’t, obviously. Eddie pushes his palm against Steve through his jeans, not rubbing or anything, just giving him a little pressure to strain against. Steve gasps and the sound is embarrassingly loud, but Eddie nods like Steve’s done something right. 

As Eddie opens up Steve’s fly, Steve is suddenly aware that Eddie’s the tallest person he’s ever hooked up with. Eddie’s always in motion and he’s on the skinny side, so it’s easy to forget that they’re about the same height. Steve hadn’t really thought through how it would feel to have Eddie bending over him like this, pinning him down and caging him in, hair hanging down. He’s definitely going to be thinking about it a lot from now on. 

Eddie pauses and sits back. Steve can’t help the pathetic noise he makes at the loss, but Eddie just grins, eyes sparkling.

“Not going anywhere, Stevie. You’ll get yours. Just avoiding any potential mishaps,” he says. He tugs his rings off quickly and efficiently, twisting at the waist to dump them on the coffee table in a little pile. Steve wants to buy a special dish to keep them in. Maybe something with Eddie’s name on it. 

Bare-handed, Eddie reaches out to run his knuckles lightly up Steve’s dick before tugging at the hem of his briefs playfully. “C’mon, lift your hips for me. Can’t do anything without getting these off you.”

It’s a little awkward, especially because Eddie doesn’t even try to get off Steve’s lap and Steve isn’t about to make him move, but they manage to get Steve’s pants and briefs down, and then Eddie’s just—there, staring at him.

“Shit,” says Eddie, laughing a little under his breath. “Life really isn’t fair sometimes, huh? King of Hawkins High, popular jock extraordinaire, and you’re packing some serious heat. Leave some for the rest of us, huh?” 

Steve barely stops himself from telling Eddie that really, he can have Steve’s dick any time he wants. 

Eddie keeps staring at him, and the pleased squirmy feeling in his gut is faltering a little. He can feel his erection start to wilt as the nervousness builds. His shirt’s still on, which seems kind of stupid now that he’s thinking about it.

“If,” he says. “If you don’t want to, man. It’s fine. No big deal.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to Steve’s face. Without breaking eye contact, he sticks out his (long, jesus) tongue and licks his palm. 

“No way, man. Never let it be said that Eddie Munson leaves his debts unpaid,” he purrs. Steve is embarrassed to realize that the deep rasp of his voice alone is more than enough to get Steve back to full attention, suddenly back on that desperate edge. 

And then Eddie’s hand is finally around him, just the right side of painfully tight, and Steve stops thinking altogether for a while. 

———

“Okay, so you traded handjobs,” says Robin. 

“You don’t get it,” Steve hisses. “It’s so much worse now! I’m spacing out in the fucking checkout line just thinking about how to get him to take his clothes off around me.”

“I want you to know that I have never related to you less in my life, even including that time when you asked Mrs. Click whether the Romans or the Greeks invented Olive Garden.”

“Greek food has olives, right? Anyway, come on, I thought you were supposed to be my supportive gay friend. My gay support friend? My friend who is gay and supports me in gay stuff.”

Robin makes a noise like a dying cat and flops over the counter. “Fine! I’m supportive, I’m being gay-supportive. I’m just saying, I’ve heard way more than I ever wanted to about all the girls you’ve had sex with and all the different freaky ways you had sex with them, and Eddie Munson giving you a random handjob in your living room is what rocks your world?”

“Yes,” Steve says. “Exactly! Because of, you know. Feelings. And stuff. You’re missing the, the poetry of it all.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a loser,” says Robin, but she sits up and butts her head against his shoulder to show she loves him.

(Snippet directory)

#steddie #nsft #this is 2.6k at what point is it just a fic #there's no narrative resolution tho so in my head it's still just a snippet #also OG was around but didn't really hit its heights of popularity until the 90s so this is a little anachronistic whoops #I think this needs one more connecting scene in between this & the last. but this is written and the connecting scene is not. #will it ever get written? will I ever edit down the last scene to something manageable? who knows!! #fic: come alive in the neon light

[joonberriess]

vent warning - sorry, you’re just my comfort account on here and i don’t have anyone else to talk to. I’ve just seen other people rant to you before so i thought it’d be okay? if it’s not i totally understand, you can just ignore this. but I apologize for bothering, i just need someone as of now.

so my ex-best friend replaced me for a girl she’s only known for 1-3 months and she’s known me for a over a year.

today, I texted her that I didn’t wanna be friends with her no more because what can I do about being replaced?

she asked me why, I told her, and a few mins after we talked, she posted a video with the girl she replaced me with. mind you, that video was made on a DIFFERENT day. she could’ve posted it any offer day but she decided to post it the day I talked to her about how I felt about being replaced.

so, I said fuck it because that’s petty and she knows what she’s doing. mind you, my paragraph was sincere and genuine. It was passive aggressive nor rude. she said no “beef” either but she knows what she’s doing posting that on the same day when the vid was recorded on a different day?

so I told her I just don’t wanna be friends with her at all. At first, we settled on being acquaintances, but since she did that I just didn’t wanna be her friend no more.

she said that she’s “sorry” and she “understands” why I don’t wanna be friends with her no more. by the way, the ratio between my texts & hers was literally insane because she was giving me one sentence per text and I was giving paragraphs and multiple texts…

and she decides to act “nonchalant” and she’s one of those people who think that nonchalant people are weird? yet she’s doing that to me?

basically, ever since she became friends with that other girl, who is a bad influence, she stopped caring about every other friend around her, including me, who was her closest.

she’s also changed a lot and she’s grown meaner. she also rubbed their friendship in my face whenever me and her used to call.

im so sorry, I just really needed someone to talk to because it just pisses me off and hurts me a lot. im the only one affected by our friendship being thrown away while she couldn’t care less.

honestly fuck her u deserved better and STILL do. fren im feeling as if she secretly been like this all along, but my thing is bitches like these piss me off cause like what are you her little lapdog? idk how she might have been before but this person just brought it out of her lol, like her true self. good that u cut things off with her, let her have her new friend and let her slowly realize on her own how everyone else is gonna leave her behind and she’s gonna b stuck with her new bestie bc she chose to cut everyone off with her weird ass behavior. im sorry this happened to you lovely, and i do sincerely hope that you can meet someone else who will make you feel better and won’t treat you like she did. 🫂🫂🫂🩷

[seekinghelp-adhd]

So, uh, apparently I wrote this and never posted it anywhere. Whoops! Anyway, enjoy a Ladynoir reveal fic ft. "the umbrella™️"

Ladybug took a deep breath, steeling her nerves as she clutched the handle of her umbrella. Moving her gaze up toward the Eiffel Tower, she could vaguely see Chat pacing, waiting for her to arrive. He was nervous, no doubt. She usually didn’t call for meetings outside of an akuma like this.

There was a first time for everything, she supposed. After all, this was also the first time she would be meeting up with Chat as more than just her partner. At least, she hoped they would be more. Desperately, she hoped she wasn’t too late. Safely storing the umbrella into the infinite storage of her yoyo, Ladybug took one last, calming breath and leapt from the roof to see her kitty.

Chat Noir turned suddenly to face her as soon as he heard her feet hit the metal platform. “Ah, there you are, LB! I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten here early.”

“Don’t tease, Chaton. You’ll learn very soon that I’m rarely on time for anything.”

“Only if we keep meeting up outside of battles, like this.”

Chat flashed a confident smirk, but she could see the hope hiding behind his eyes. She smiled softly. Chat Noir was entirely different that night on the rooftop waiting for her. He had shown Marinette a deep, sincere love for Ladybug. The more she took the time to notice, the more she could see that sweet, kind boy behind the confident, flirty clown that he pretended to be.

“I’d like that.”

He blinked as the smirk dropped from his face, turning to a thoughtful frown.

“Uh… Really?”

“Yes, Chaton. Really.” Ladybug tried to stifle a laugh, barely succeeding as she continued. “Actually, that’s why I wanted to talk to you today.”

“Oh, well then… Okay. What’s up, Buginette?”

She opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself when she caught his eye. This was Chat Noir. This was her partner and the person she trusted most in the world. If there were anyone in the world that she could be completely comfortable with, it would be him. Yet, as she made eye contact, she could feel that familiar flutter that she’d only ever received from Adrien Agreste.

She closed her mouth with a snap and firmly shut her eyes, trying to think of anything other than what she was about to do. Every attempt at romance with Adrien had been ruined by these nerves. She was determined not to let them take away yet another chance at happiness. Taking one last deep breath, she opened her eyes and tried again.

“I have to apologize.”

Chat Noir raised an inquisitive eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the left.

“Apologize for what, LB? I’m not upset at you over anything.”

“For a lot of things, actually, but mainly for all the rejections over the years. For the longest time I thought you were just a flirt, but I know better now. I’m so sorry, Chaton, for not taking your feelings seriously.”

Chat Noir placed a hand on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Ladybug. That really means a lot to me, and I’m sorry too – for how I handled that, I mean. I never meant to give off the impression that I was flirty or pushy or anything, I just wanted you to know how I felt. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! Chat, I promise. You never made me uncomfortable. I would have asked you to stop if there had been a problem. You were very clear with how you felt. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble expressing those feelings. When you were so upfront and clear with it, I couldn’t believe it was serious because I couldn’t believe how easy it was for you to just… say stuff like that.”

“I guess I can understand that. The way I see it though, that just means you should say it more. That’s why I’ve always wondered why you never just confessed to that boy you like. The harder something is to say, the more important it is to say it.”

“Which leads me to the next part of this. About that boy… I’ve decided I’m not going to confess.”

Ladybug sighed, looking into the city as the sun set behind them. Just saying the words out loud was a relief. She smiled as she felt a weight leave that she never knew she carried.

“What?! Why not? He’d be an idiot not to fall for you.”

Ladybug couldn’t help but laugh at his declaration, half because of how bold it was and half out of relief. If he was so confident that Adrien would love her, he must still harbor some of those feelings himself, right?

“I appreciate your confidence in me, Chaton, but he’s never seen me as anything but a friend, and… I’m finally okay with that. I mean, I still feel the same way about him, but I’ve kind of accepted that not all love has to be romantic, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, uh… Well, it’s like how we used to be. I love him, but as one of my best friends, nothing more. He’s happy, and that’s enough for me.”

It was a subtle hint, just to introduce the idea that things had changed. Unfortunately, he seemed to brush right past it like he’d never even noticed.

“But are you happy with that? Your happiness matters too.”

“Yes, it does, but I’ve realized recently that my happiness shouldn’t rely on him, especially not when I could be just as happy with someone else.”

Ladybug turned to face him. She looked him in the eye despite her nerves and batted her eyelashes, no longer fighting the blush that rose to her cheeks.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about.” Chat sung with a smirk. “Someone has finally managed to steal your heart away from the mysterious ‘other boy?’”

Ladybug couldn’t help but smile and shake her head. It seemed that every boy she fell for was doomed to the same obliviousness. He managed to figure out there was someone else but had somehow missed all the hints that it was him.

“No one stole anything, Chaton. I gave it away. I came to realize recently that I love someone else just as much as I loved him. That confused me for a while, because how could I be in love with two people? Once I accepted that I was though, I started questioning everything. Why would I keep chasing after the first boy knowing he’ll never feel the same, when this new guy already loves me back? So, I made a choice. I’m going to move on.”

Chat was silent for a while after this, clearly lost in his own thoughts.

“So, this… ‘new guy,’ makes you happy? He loves you as much as you love him?”

“I think so. At least, I hope he does… You see, he was always flirting with me, but I never took him seriously. I was so focused on the other guy that I kept denying how much he meant to me. It’s been a while since he’s done anything about his feelings though, and I’m kind of scared that after pushing him away for so long I’ve missed my chance… Honestly, I’m not really sure I deserve him after how much I’ve hurt him.”

“Don’t say things like that, bug. Of course, you deserve to be happy! I know you well enough to know you’d never intentionally hurt anyone, even Hawkmoth.”

Ladybug smirked. “Oh, you overestimate me, Chaton. I would absolutely hurt Hawkmoth intentionally. It’s a very short list, but there are a few people in this world that I would like to stub their toe or get a papercut.”

“Stubbed toes and papercuts? I didn’t realize you were so ruthless, my lady! I should have a word with your Kwami about this violent streak of yours. Next thing I know, you’ll start wishing they would step on a Lego brick.”

They laughed together at the familiar banter. Ladybug turned her face away for a moment, hiding her red cheeks, before she turned to face him again. Maybe if he could see the effect that nickname had on her now, she wouldn’t have to do much more explaining. As he started to recover from his own laughter, he turned to face her again. Whether it was the clearly blushing girl he saw or the realization of how close they were, he quickly turned away with wide eyes and red cheeks of his own.

After a moment, Chat cleared his throat. “So, uh… Now that the ‘other boy’ is just a friend, do I finally get to know his name?”

“You aren’t interested in ‘new guy’ at all?”

“Of course I am, Bugaboo, but we both know you aren’t telling me his name any time soon.”

“You know what, maybe I would have before you called me ‘Bugaboo’ again. Now I think I won’t.”

“Hilarious joke, but I really think you’re fonder of that nickname than you let on. The last time I called you that in battle, you didn’t even throw anything at me! This time, you didn’t even ask me to stop.”

“Well, maybe-”

Maybe I’ll let you call me Bugaboo after you really make me your lady.

The reality of what she almost said hit her like a tsunami, sending her cheeks to an even brighter crimson and her eyes nearly bulging out of her skull.

“Uh… You know what, forget I said anything. That was going to be a really dumb comeback.”

She turned away, looking off to her left, when a comforting hand landed on her own.

“Ladybug, are you okay? I know you said the flirting didn’t make you uncomfortable, but I’ve never seen you speechless before, or that, uh… flustered. You said you were about to tell me who the new guy is, and it didn’t sound like you were kidding. You’ve never shared personal details like that before because of the issues with secret identities. What’s going on?”

Every bit of resolve she had to keep up her teasing fell apart. With slumped shoulders and her head hanging low, she decided to lay everything out in the open. After everything Chat Noir had said about her deserving happiness and being impossible not to love, she had some hope that she wasn’t too late after all. The words seemed to stop in her throat, refusing to leave, but something in the back of her mind pushed her forward. The harder something is to say, the more important it is to say it.

“It’s you, Chaton.”

“It’s… me? I’m the reason you’ve been so worked up lately? Was it… something I did?”

She turned suddenly to face him, shocked that he could have missed a hint that direct.

���No, you stupid cat! Well, yes, actually – but not because you did something wrong!”

“What? I don’t understand, LB.”

“It’s you! You are the reason I’ve been so flustered these last few akuma battles! It was your feelings and flirting that I constantly ignored and rejected! You are the one that I hurt over and over again, for no reason, and I feel terrible! Because without you I wouldn’t even be here! I wouldn’t be Ladybug if you hadn’t believed in me that first day. I wouldn’t be alive if you weren’t always looking after me, putting me before yourself. I wouldn’t be sane if you weren’t there to make me smile and laugh after a long day of stress and bullying and self-doubt.

“You’re my partner and my best friend, and it was stupid of me to keep pretending that was all you would ever be. Because no matter how hard I’ve tried to deny it or ignore it, I do love you, Chaton. I was heartbroken when I saw that incredible, romantic date you tried to take me on! It tore me apart to keep telling you no, only to go running after a boy who could honestly never compete. He never saw me like you do, and even if he did, he could never know me like you do.

“I’m so, so sorry I hurt you, Chat. I’m sorry that for all the times I’ve broken your heart, and I wouldn’t blame you if you were angry with me for pushing you away like that. I completely understand if I’m too late or if you’ve already moved on. I know this isn’t fair to you, but I couldn’t just keep pretending like these feelings aren’t here. I’m tired of lying to you, Chat, and I’m tired of lying to myself.

“The truth is that I love you, Chaton, and I’m a self-sabotaging idiot for keeping you at arm’s length all this time. I’ve been trying to say this all night, but I couldn’t work up the courage to just up and say it and you never caught on to any of the hints! Somehow you ended up thinking there was another other guy, but it was you, Chaton. It’s you, and it always has been. I love-“ Before she could even finish her declaration before suddenly Chat’s lips met hers and took her breath away.

Chat Noir was stunned. He had spent all night trying to keep a delicate balance. He thought the flirting was making her uncomfortable, so he stopped. Apparently, it wasn’t, so he started again. Then she got all red in the face, like she was angry at something, so he stopped again. Now, seemingly out of nowhere, here she was declaring her love for him!

Ladybug was sitting right in front of him, telling him in no uncertain terms, that she was deeply, madly in love with him, and he could barely focus, because how could this be possible? He must have misunderstood her somehow. He must be reading the situation wrong. His mind worked overtime trying to comprehend the words he was hearing, but the few parts he had heard clearly, he latched onto like they were life itself.

Without you, I wouldn’t be here.

You’re more than just my partner.

He could never know me like you do.

I’m tired of lying to myself.

I love you, Chaton.

Chat Noir had no idea at what point he started crying, but he wasn’t sure that mattered. He wasn’t quite sure when his hands had ended up around her waist either, but as long as she was always this close to him, he could figure out how to live without arms. Chat wasn’t even certain when he had brought his head down for a kiss, but all conscious thought on the matter left as soon as her lips moved against his.

He didn’t need time or thought or air right now. His lady was kissing him! His lady loved him! This moment could last forever as far as he was concerned. Unfortunately, his aching lungs protested and forced him to pull away far too early. Unwilling to leave just yet, Chat chose to fall into her embrace, burying his head in her neck as he softly wept.

Eventually, Ladybug found her voice again. Wiping the tears from her own eyes, she began to slowly pry him away.

“I want to give you something, Mon Minou.”

Chat could only look at her in awe. Her kitty. If his smile spread any wider, he would wake up sore tomorrow. He watched as Ladybug pulled the item out of her yoyo, placing it delicately in his lap. Chat could only hope Ladybug didn’t notice the look of shock and realization on his face as he took hold of a very familiar black umbrella.

“The other boy gave me this umbrella on the day I met him. I had misjudged him that day, and I treated him poorly because of it. He didn’t hold that against me though. Instead, he apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. He was open and vulnerable, telling me he didn’t have many friends and wanted to make things right. He gave me that umbrella and walked to his car soaking wet so I wouldn’t have to walk home in the rain.”

Chat Noir slowly raised his head to meet her gaze.

“Lightning struck when he handed it to me, and in that blink of light I fell in love with his kindness and his smile.” Ladybug stopped for a moment, laughing at the memory, “The umbrella closed on my head. He laughed, but I could tell he wasn’t laughing at me. I fell in love with him fast and hard, a lot like the way you say you fell in love with me during Stoneheart.”

Ladybug stood up, pulling Chat to stand with her as she took his free hand in both of hers.

“That wasn’t the way I fell for you, though. I fell in love with you slowly, building a relationship on time and friendship and trust. It was such a quiet, calm fall that I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. When I fell in love with Adrien, it was loud, and it quickly became the only thing I could focus on when he was around. By the time I realized that I was in love with you, you were already the only thing I could think about in all parts of my life.

“I found myself holding back laughter at puns that I normally would have hated, because I would hear you laughing at them in my head. I would miss you at school or during outings with friends, wishing that you could be there too even when Adrien was around. If falling for Adrien made him the center of my world, falling in love with you made you the sun that everything else depended on.

“I want to give you that umbrella, Chaton. I want to give it to you to prove that I’m not holding on to those feelings anymore. I want you to have it as a memory of your own thunderbolt, like it has been for me. For years that umbrella has been a symbol of my love and my hope for the future. I want you to have that, Chat: the symbol, my love, my future… all of it. I love you, Chaton, with everything I am, and it would make me unbelievably happy if I could really be your lady.”

Ladybug watched as his eyes searched hers, desperate for some answer to a question she didn’t know. Chat slowly – reverently – set the umbrella down, careful not to let it fall, and removed his hand from hers, placing both on her cheeks. She felt herself shiver as his thumbs gently trailed the outline of her mask.

“My lady… My princess…”

Ladybug’s eyes went wide at the nickname. He had never called her that before. That nickname had only been reserved for-

“My Marinette… I can’t believe how blind I’ve been.”

Chat was smiling now, gazing at her in awe as he started to laugh. It wasn’t long before he was using her to support his weight as his body trembled in silent laughter. Ladybug watched on in confusion and horror as she spoke, her voice barely a whisper as it shook.

“Chat, are you okay? How did… How did you figure me out?”

 Chat’s eyes met her own once again. She had expected the worst: disappointment, shock, sadness. Honestly, she had expected anything other than the look of pure joy and adoration smiling back at her.

“My lady, we’ve both been so stupid. I’m the one that needs to apologize, not you. I can’t believe how blind I’ve been! Wait…” Chat drew his hands away from her suddenly, considering something for a moment, before throwing them wildly into the air. “I CAN’T BELIEVE PLAGG WAS RIGHT!”

“Chaton, you aren’t making any sense. How do you know it’s me? What are you apologizing for?”

“I’m afraid I’ve been just as oblivious to Marinette’s feelings as Ladybug has been to Chat Noir’s. I had no idea you were in love with Adrien. You can’t imagine how much trouble I could have saved us if I had just opened my eyes for once. I mean, everyone has been telling me to pay more attention to you: Alya, Nino, Plagg. Heck, even Chloe gave me a stern talking to once about how I needed to, ‘get my act together and make out with Dupain-Cheng already!’”

By now, Ladybug’s face was nearly as red as her suit. He had given her everything she needed to figure it out, but the answer was so ridiculous she just couldn’t accept it. What little magic from the miraculous that was still working didn’t help matters. She knew she should understand, but she just couldn’t wrap her head around it.

“I’m not quite getting it yet, Chaton. What are you trying to say?”

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Marinette-” Chat paused, kneeling down to take the umbrella back in his hands. With a smirk, he held it out between them. “-is that it’s about time you returned my umbrella.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml fanfic #ladynoir #fanfic #identity reveal #love square #kissing

[zeglythofficial]

i'm not in any fandoms myself, but i left the new hunger games movie very much on-board with both the leads. so i hope you don't mind me asking this question: do you think fans of certain celebs tend to be aggressive? or is this a general thing?

the reason i'm asking is because i thought the leads did great. but my friends disagreed: they thought t was alright, but that r was clunky in emotional scenes. now, this is their opinion, and i honestly saw no problem with that. each to our own. but then i saw someone who mentioned a similar opinion on their twitter getting absolutely bombarded by angry quotes and people actually blowing up their comment even more. not everyone is going to love every actor. and that person has the right to express their opinion, especially when it's not hate, and it was just said on their personal account, completely distant from the fandom.

i was just wondering if you, as a sincere fan of r, think that's something to be expected from fandom. i'm genuinely curious, and i hope this question isn't offensive in any way!

Unfortunately, it’s a general thing. Most fandoms are like this now. Very hostile and negative. Of course some celebs have great fanbases but if a celeb is popular, I will bet a billion dollars their fandom is super toxic to some degree. They put celebs on a pedestal so to their fans, they can do no wrong and anyone who disagrees with that, is bullied for it.

And I agree. Everyone has different tastes and likes different actors, that’s fine, as long as it’s respectful. Constructive criticism is great but people take any type of criticism as hate nowadays which is unfair.

Most of R’s fans are wonderful! I recommend blocking anyone who appears toxic. I’ve blocked a lot of people and ever since then, 0 drama and no issues. There’s drama still going on for what other people tell me but I don’t see it so I don’t care.

And I’m not offended at all, it’s a valid question! :)

#my answers #about r #about me

[seasons-beatings]

Unrelated to the exchange but if you’re feeling up to it, may I ask how the Nutcracker going? What is your role? -Sincerely, someone who loves dancing but has never trained/performed and is very curious about the experience 👀

Hi! Oh gosh, you’ve opened the floodgates😂 I love talking about the show! I keep posting updates on my main blog after every rehearsal🤣

It’s going very well! I just got out of our dress rehearsal- we have our watch party tomorrow (show up to the studio in pajamas and watch the video of tonight’s rehearsal.) And then two more rehearsals Wednesday and Thursday, a break on Friday, and then we open! We’re doing four shows, two on Saturday and two on Sunday.

I actually have four roles! For the Party Scene, I’m the Stahlbaum children’s Governess- I spend most of that scene taking props on and off stage and trying to keep the party going smoothly despite Fritz’s constant attempts to derail it. After that I’m one of the Three Musketeers for the Battle Scene- we fight off the rats and bring in the cannon to fire at the mice. And then I’m one of the Christmas Reindeer for the Snow Scene, plus the opening and finale of Act Two. All the reindeer really do is get our massive sleigh onstage- the thing is pretty, but stupidly heavy and big. We do get a bit of fun dancing in the Angel Scene though!

However, my favorite role by far is in the Divertissements section of Act Two- the part where all the sweets dance for Clara and the Nutcracker. My director likes to reimagine ballets, I don’t think she’s ever put on anything traditional. Our Nutcracker takes place in Paris instead of Germany, for example, and the Stahlbaums run a trading company to and from the Land of Sweets.

One of our other changes is that we don’t have a Mother Ginger. We have the Drury Lane Kitchen scene, starring the Muffin Man and Muffin Wife, and our youngest dancers as Blueberry Muffins. And then there’s me, the Pastry Chef, who just wants a little attention around here. The Muffin Man and his wife interrupt my dancing to waltz with each other, so I stomp to the corner of the stage, do some angry pantomiming, and then I get an idea…and I scream “FOOD FIGHT!” as loudly as possible. I get to scream! Onstage! In a ballet! And that cues the Blueberry Muffins to pelt Clara, the Nutcracker, and the Muffin Man and his wife with blueberries. And then I do a dramatic slide to the front of the stage and finish off the scene with an exaggerated chef’s kiss. It’s hilarious and I love it.

It’s definitely a lot of work, but it’s also really fun! I love all of the people in the show, and I’ve become fast friends with most of them! I’ve had a costume role before in our spring show, but The Nutcracker is kinda different- The Nutcracker is The Big One, the one that everybody knows and comes to see. There’s a lot of pressure to get it right, but we also work on the show from September-December so we have quite a bit of time. Pain is also a thing, ballet is hard on basically every part of your body, so there’s definitely some hurting involved. I’ve been having a lot of it in my back this season- it was so bad on Sunday that I cried. It’s hard, but the feeling when you’re onstage and the audience is applauding you or laughing at something funny you did or gasping in awe at a pretty piece of choreography- it’s like no other feeling in the world!

I’m lucky enough to have found a studio that takes anyone. We have some people in the show that had only been dancing for a few weeks before the audition. I’ve only been doing ballet since February. Our studio doesn’t care about experience or weight or height or anything like that- if you love to dance, you can take classes and you can audition for shows. We had one guy who auditioned who hadn’t danced in years, not since middle school- and that guy’s going onstage this weekend wearing the red jacket as the Nutcracker Prince! If you can find a studio like that, it’s absolutely worth it- the experience of doing something like this is just pure magic.

#sorry for the absolute wall of text there! #answering asks

[lobster-tales]

What-If

Zutaraang Week 2022 Day 2 @zutaraangtastic

Summary: Zuko, Katara, and Aang first broach the topic -- Post Canon, Aged Up Characters

This work is available here on AO3. Day 1

The snowstorm raged outside, but the inside of the iglu was warm, thanks to Zuko. He radiated heat, so much so that Katara felt comfortable removing her parka. Aang and Zuko still wore theirs, the fur framing their somber faces.

It was an unusual scene, not because of the weather or the company, but because of their silence, their solemnity. Zuko lifted the teapot off the small flame in the center of the space, the liquid steaming in the cold air as he poured three cups. The screams of the wind were interrupted only by their small sips.

Katara cleared her throat. “So.”

“So,” Aang echoed.

“So,” said Zuko.

Katara again. “Maybe the best way to do this is to just… get everything out in the open.” The low light cast shadows against the white walls. “I’ll start. Um… Aang.” His gloved hands were still tucked into his sides, so Katara placed her hand on his knee instead. “I love you. I’ve loved you ever since we first met. You’ve filled my days with laughter and hope. I want to share my life with you.” He shot her a warm grin in return.

Her other hand reached across the flame and settled on Zuko’s knee. “Zuko, you and I began as enemies, but then we became friends, and over time, I’ve… begun to have feelings for you. And that’s not to say that my feelings for Aang have gone away, it’s just… different. Almost like, in seeing you through his eyes, I’ve come to love you more, and same with Aang: I love him more because I love… you… does that make sense?” Her hands withdrew, crossing in uncertainty. “I guess that doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense,” Aang and Zuko said at the same time, sharing a look. “Zuko,” Aang said, preparing himself for a monologue. “With all sincerity… ditto.”

Katara scoffed. “You can’t just ‘ditto’ my heartfelt speech.”

“But you already said it so well,” Aang said innocently.

Zuko spoke as if he were hiding a smile. “I care about you both… a lot… and I… love you both.”

“And?” Katara asked.

“And what?”

“And,” said Aang. “Do you want to be a part of this? With us?”

Zuko’s uncertainty was heavy in the air. “Is that… allowed?”

Aang and Katara both erupted into giggles. “Of course it is,” said Aang.

Katara asked, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“... I don’t know.” Zuko huffed a cloud. “Maybe it’s different here and it was with the Air Nomads, but in the Fire Nation, we don’t really… do that. I mean, the Firelord and some of the higher nobles sometimes take on mistresses. Spirits know my father had….” A short, frustrated sigh escaped through his teeth. “But. I don’t see either of you as a… mistress, per se.”

“Well,” Aang said. “I would be more of a ‘master’.”

“If anyone’s a master here, it’s me,” Katara wrinkled her nose playfully.

But Zuko wasn’t quite ready to play. His mind was mulling over it all, the implications–what it would mean to be, like Aang said, a part of this. “But that’s the thing, is that when Firelords have taken on multiple mist- er, partners, it’s never… equal. It’s always understood that the Firelord outranks any partners.” He groaned. “And the Avatar, I mean, that’s never happened.”

Katara’s voice was gentle. “Your journey as Firelord hasn’t ‘happened’ before, either.”

He knew she was right. He knew that this was right. “What will my people think?” he asked softly. “I’m not exactly the most popular, what with-” He closed his eyes, wrinkling the scar tissue around his left. “What if they respect me less? What if they think it’s wrong and they turn against me? What if-”

“Zuko,” said Aang. “We can sit here and go over the ‘what if's' all night. And this isn’t about what your people want, this about what you want.”

“So,” Katara asked, “What do you want?”

Aang and Katara both thought the iglu might fill with steam, the way Zuko sighed.

“I want this,” he said, his voice barely audible above the storm’s fury. “I want you, both of you. I want to be a part of this.”

All three nodded their heads, allowing a reverent moment to mark the occasion. Then Aang sidled over to one side of Zuko, while Katara slid to the other. The three entwined their arms.

The storm had subsided somewhat, now a dull roar rather than a scream. The air was still frigid, but the three lovers kept each other warm.

#zutaraang #zutaraang week 2022 #ATLA #ATLA Fic #OT3 #My fic #Day 2 #What-If #Post Canon

[the-busy-ghost]

Something comforting to think about today- there are lots of people in the world who hate, loathe, and despise my favourite books

That doesn’t sound like it should be comforting because of course at heart I want everyone to love them as much as I do. And it does annoy me when people hate books based on what I sincerely believe to be a complete misinterpretation of them (cough-cough, the recent “Wuthering Heights is just a silly problematic romance novel” issue). But if I’m being honest I also hate it just as much when people LOVE my favourite books based on a complete misinterpretation of them and for all the wrong reasons (”XXX did nothing wrong!”- what book were you reading???). And in either situation it isn’t really my business, though I reserve the right to be irritated.

But lots of people have valid criticisms of these books. Others simply didn’t vibe with the book on a given day and maybe never will- they don’t owe me or anyone else a reason. And I may not agree with them, but I do like it when I can completely understand why some people don’t like these books. For example, I think “Middlemarch” is one of the greatest novels I’ve ever read but for other people, it’s just not for them! They simply enjoy a very different kind of book, or they were disappointed that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, or they couldn’t understand the characters, or it just wasn’t the right time for that book to come into their lives, or it was just too damn long for them.

And firstly I find that comforting because it shows that we’re all different souls. We all have different tastes and experiences, and that means that our favourite books actually MEAN something to us, rather than just being a Generic Important Book That Everyone Likes. And often the reasons why one book is my favourite, are very different to the reasons that they are someone else’s favourite- the best books are multi-faceted after all. It’s a wonderful testament to the diversity of human experience and creativity (because in my opinion, there’s a great deal of the reader’s own imaginative ability goes into engaging with a book). So all that is required is for people to be open-minded and assume that when someone says they love a book, they have their own reasons, and these might not even be the reasons you think. 

And secondly of course, is that if even the books that I think are the best thing to exist, a physical symbol of worldly greatness, aspiration embodied, don’t appeal to everyone- then the things I create in turn don’t need to either. If even the greatest authors have harsh critics who will simply NEVER like their work, why are we all worrying so much about the merest hint of rejection, in life as much as in art?

#I talk a good game of course rejection is still very painful for me #And note valid constructive criticism is a different thing from rejection but if people's books can survive completely dumbass rejection #Based on complete misreading of the situation I think I can survive someone not liking me #books #reading #booklr #Also constructive criticism of my favourite books is good because it means I get to go back think it over #Argue it through in my head; point out other passages of the book in defence of it #And STILL come out of it loving the book possibly even more because it's drawn my attention to things I didn't realise about it #And sometimes I can't answer them fully either and that's ok too #Sometimes I've had the same thought as a novel's detractors and they've drawn attention to it #For example I was wondering at the end of Wuthering Heights why Heathcliff bothered keeping Nellie around #Why didn't he just send her packing rather than continuing to employ her at Thrushcross Grange #And I have lots of ideas but none of them quite stick yet #One is that she's possibly an unreliable narrator so she may- against her better judgement- have helped him more than she likes to admit #Another is that he is labouring under the impression that he can control her and so keeps her around in case he needs to use her influence #A third is that he needs a witness- there's some element of performativity in his cruelty and SOMEONE needs to see him destroy things #But I also like the idea that the four of them are all siblings really #Nelly- though she has a mother and other family at home- spent much of her youth at Wuthering Heights #And describes herself as Hindley's foster sibling in the sense that her mother was his nurse (a powerful bond in the pre-modern era btw) #So really she's as much one of the Wuthering Heights Nest as the lot of them #Heathcliff doesn't have as much reason to despise her as Hindley nor does he have so much reason to love her as Cathy #But she's still a sibling of sorts and maybe Heathcliff- whether he recognises it or not- sense that she has a right to be there #He doesn't seem like someone who needs a family but then maybe he's not as in control of the Heights as he thinks he is #I really don't know yet I will have to reread it #But yeah I think Nelly is as much a part of that nest of trouble as the rest of them #I'm getting off topic though- but see what I mean about negative criticism being important and fascinating! #Ok so I keep finding my way back to Wuthering Heights a lot over the last few weeks but this applies to othe rbooks too #I had similar feelings about some of teh criticisms of Flemington #reading log

[unproduciblesmackdown]

a post because i saw one that annoyed me:

One of my goals in thinking about redefining the way we view relationships is to try to treat the people I date more like I treat my friends—try to be respectful and thoughtful and have boundaries and reasonable expectations—and to try to treat my friends more like my dates—to give them special attention, honor my commitments to them, be consistent, and invest deeply in our futures together. In the queer communities I'm in valuing friendship is a really big deal, often coming out of the fact that lots of us don't have family support, and build deep supportive structures with other queers. We are interested in resisting the heteronormative family structure in which people are expected to form a dyad, marry, have kids, and get all their needs met within that family structure. A lot of us see that as unhealthy, as a new technology of post-industrial late capitalism that is connected to alienating people from community and training them to think in terms of individuality, to value the smaller unit of the nuclear family rather than the extended family. Thus, questioning how the status and accompanying behavior norms are different for how we treat our friends versus our dates, and trying to bring those into balance, starts to support our work of creating chosen families and resisting the annihilation of community that capitalism seeks.

A lot of the things I'm writing here go to the basic notion of what we think loving other people is about. Is it about possessing them, finding security in them, having all our needs met by them, being able to treat them in any way and still having them stick around? I hope not. What I hope that love is—whether platonic, romantic, familial, or communal—is the sincere wish that another person have what they need to be whole and develop themselves to their best capacity for joy or whatever fulfillment they're seeking.

Monogamy has stopped making sense now that I see it as an implicit agreement with someone to only have certain kinds of relationships with everyone else in your life. This basically means drawing boundaries all over someone else's life...boundaries that don't make much sense to me anymore. Just because someone doesn't have sex with anyone else doesn't mean they aren't going to be attracted to anyone else. Just because they don't label a relationship with someone in a certain way doesn't mean they aren't going to feel love for that person. It seems silly and arbitrary to draw lines in terms of physical affection. Hugging is ok, but not kissing? Cuddling is ok, but not sex? It seems even more impossible to draw lines in terms of love and feelings. 

I had never been very good at drawing lines between the love I felt for my friends and the love I felt for people I was in romantic relationships with, even when I was inhabiting the universe where those lines were made to seem very important. I was perpetually "falling for" my friends in this way that could only ever end in reciprocation or heartbreak, because in that universe I was definitely not allowed to be "in love" with my friends, especially not if I happened to be interested in sleeping with them. But in this new alternate universe I don't need those lines, and it makes perfect, beautiful sense. I can just feel however I feel about people without worrying about the way our relationship is labeled. What really matters is defining that relationship for ourselves, not for other people. What that means is having conversations about what we want, and what we are willing to give.

I've learned that I need to be straight up about how much time I want to spend with someone. I need to be specific about it. I would rather talk about how often we want to see each other and what we want out of our relationship than use labels like "primary partner" or someone I see "casually". Just because I'm not spending a huge amount of time with someone doesn't mean they don't deserve honesty, communication, and clear expectations for our relationship. This goes for friendships as well, and I would like to have way more conversations with my friends about our relationships and expectations. If in this universe I have friends that I'm in love with and lovers that I'm friends with, then why does one relationship deserve more care and attention than another? Why should we have these conversations with people that we fuck, but not with those that we don't? The people in my life that I don't have sex with aren't less important to me, so I don't want to treat them that way.

I want to do this because I want to challenge the frameworks that I am expected to base my relationships on: gender, marriage, the nuclear family. Hetero-monogamy is part of a narrative that I want no place in: the creation of an atomized family unit, whose boundary delineates the space in which I am allowed to care for others, outside of which my relationships are dominated by fear and the logic of my own self-preservation. I want to create families that are based on intentionality, affinity, and support. I don't want a family based on a role that I was born into. I feel like the only way I can really break through my isolation is to build relationships on my own terms, with my own frameworks and beliefs.

I want to resist the commodification of my body by never considering myself the possessor of someone else's, and not needing my body to be given value only through its possession by others. I want to confront ideas of sexual objectification and ownership every time I feel them rise up within myself. Any moment that someone shares their body with me is precarious and fleeting, and that shared moment doesn't give me any say in what else that person wants to do with their body (unless it pertains to my own health and safety). I also don't want to make assumptions about what someone is willing to share today based on what they shared yesterday. I am never entitled to someone else's body.

Saying 'yes' in this context means so much more than agreeing to see each other 'steadily'. At its most severe, going steady gets tied up with the tacit promise of a supposedly long-term and exclusive relationship where Joe and Molly can navigate a blueprint, building happy coupledom. By not explicitly defining what Joe means by going steady, the relationship passively slides onto tracks bound for 'a happy life together'. This slide can happen because we are all well trained in making assumptions about what the structures of a relationship are. These implied structures constitute a hetero-romantic relationship ideal which in turn translates into a minimum level of commitment, sexual exclusivity, long-term investment, nuclear family building, and much more. The overarching ultimatum of living a relationship through undiscussed and rigid relationship conventions is that either the conventions are maintained (the expectations are consistently met, the blueprints are followed) or the relationship will end in, at the very least, a romantic separation—no more affectionate physical contact, no more intimate emotional support. If the relationship does not follow and match the blueprint, Joe and Molly are left with the choice of either getting things back on track or romantic separation. Those who do not want to choose between the happily ever after and a life of romantic solitude, those who cannot or do not want to play out the blueprint, are pushed to find and create other ways of doing relationships.

Often, when rejecting the going steady blueprint we slip a little and end up rejecting monogamy. Once monogamy is unqualifiably bad, it is a pretty quick step to figure out that polyamoury is good: having a sexually exclusive romantic relationship means conforming to an archaic patriarchal and power laden script so, having an anti-patriarchal, politically conscious, and critical relationship means you should have more than one sexual partner. To be clear, I am not trying to rescue or defend monogamy. I am arguing that a preoccupation with a monogamy/polyamoury binary prevents a more useful and more critical analysis of the ends of the political potential for romantic relationships. The locus of the potential for relationships is not a reductive tally of the number of sexual partners a person can juggle at one time. The number of people a person manages to sleep with does not say all that much, however, more revealing are the questions of how relationships are structured, how relationships are political, how individual relationships are affected by norms and the capacity individual relationships have to shape new norms. Reducing relationship politics to a monogamy vs polyamoury manicheanism means dismissing other harmful norms and assumptions that are affecting us as un- or less important.

i have enough love to go around. its not a commodity. i'll make you breakfast at 5pm on a sunday night and when you leave to go to work, i'll go out dancing and make out with someone i've been flirting with for weeks. and its not sneaky and behind your back. and its not taking anything away from how i am when i see you. i might not have a lot of time, but i have a lot of love for the people in my life and i'm willing to think hard about how i distribute my time. and i'm willing to say something when i need you to hold my hand, to have my back. and i trust that you'll do the same.

and if we ever get married, we'll know that it's for immigration purposes. and if we go through periods of time where neither of us are sleeping with anyone else, we'll know it's not because we possess each other. and when we hit rocky patches and it's fucking hard and we're taking turns falling apart, we'll know that at least we've communicated enough in the past to probably deal with it. probably. because even though i'll never promise to love you forever, we've gotten pretty far and i don't have any intention at the moment to stop loving you. and that time qualifier doesn't make it less meaningful. it means that this is a decision i'm making over and over again, every time we schedule a hang out, i'm doing it cause i want to see you. cause i want to be there.

I still think that having multiple sexual and/or romantic partners is do-able, and that I could be someone's "secondary" partner again, but I think this requires hard-core honesty about needs & expectations from the get-go, and really good communication. For example, I'd rather someone say "I like you, but can only see you once every two weeks, because that's how much I'm willing and able to give this relationship" than "I'd love to hang out more but I'm just really busy", which evades responsibility and isn't clear about expectations. Plus, everyone is busy, so you make time for people you prioritize and want to see.

I also think that people need to be very careful about how they treat their "secondary" partners, and any lover, friend, roommate or family for that matter: these are not people you can just call up whenever you're lonely (unless that's your arrangement), and ditch whenever life gets to be too much.

I think it's important to constantly re-educate ourselves on these issues: so we can learn to be better in all our relationships, so we can be honest, non-jealous, and caring partners and friends, and so we can avoid, as best we can, people getting hurt, feeling pushed aside, feeling secondary.

- excerpts from “this is about more than who we fuck (and who fucks us).” zine

#i.e. i see a post abt romance that of course is gonna be annoying to me? a dialogue... #sounded like an interpersonal problem of ''so when you're venting abt wanting a romantic relationship you just want listening rather than #any proffered solutions'' but spun into ''ugh i'm sick of society invalidating / deprioritizing desire for romance'' lmao is it doing that.. #Well I'm About To Be Sickening #and add op's choice to describe suggesting focus on nonromantic relationships as ''infantilizing'' like uh. perhaps dismissive; patronizing #quite a Particular Word Choice....so i'm like well what's enough of the opposite of what's going on here #that is: par for the course vague desire for romance with a perspective that's barely analytical & weirdly so? #i know the queer / relationship anarchist quotes are out there....then i find this zine like fun i'll peruse that. then i make this post. #and here we are today for our fun and enrichment #The General Wisdom of Aromantic People would've also counted. like clearly this doesn't touch directly much on aroaceness as is relevant #to me / my personal wavelength. but it's The Same Matter of autonomy. the autonomy to date someone / have sex? = the autonomy Not To. #anyways just transforming irritation into having some fun collecting quotes #long post ///

[sallysellsseashellssundays]

 Disclaimer: This post is going to be Anti Moffat for anyone who’s reading and is a fan you’ve been warned.  

“A Good Man Goes to War” is the seventh episode and it was my least favorite episode to watch so far.

The Good: Amy being a companion that’s married and pregnant is a rather inspired and interesting storyline, but I just wish it didn’t have to be connected to River. Strax had some funny lines especially when he was talking about meeting in battle, I was sad to see him die. We caught a quick glimpse of the captain from a few episodes ago with his son, that was surprising! Amy and Rory had a beautiful moment together where Rory was talking about how he wanted to be cool regarding being a father, my favorite Amy/Rory moment so far.

The Bad: They kept insinuating with certain lines that the Doctor was the father, and I’m at a loss as to why that angle keeps getting pushed. Amy and Rory are married and the two actors have great chemistry with each other, it feels incredibly weird to keep pushing that narrative when you can have a lovely story about married companions traveling with the Doctor. The Marines that didn’t have names?? Umm it was such a weird moment pointing out they were fat/thin/gay etc. and then one gets his head cut off. 

The River: She breaks out of prison whenever she wants and lets her guards know when she’s breaking in, WTF, honestly what sort of prison is this?!? In S5 she was taken away in handcuffs (I think the Weeping Angels episode), the implication being that she was dangerous, and I’m pretty sure the story is that she kills the Doctor so I don’t understand why it’s so easy for her to do that. I’ll wait and see if that’s explained later, but Amy had more people keeping her in her cell in this episode than River ever does. I knew River was Amy’s daughter already, but I don’t know the fallout of the reveal.

The Worst: I like Matt’s portrayal but I’ve hated how the Doctor is written in S6. At the end of S4 he was distressed that his friends were fighting on his behalf even though it was their choice. Martha once said the lovely thing about the Doctor is that he doesn’t go around asking to be thanked, and it rubs me the wrong way that here he went to get people to help him because they have “debts” and he was raising an army. Amy said the Doctor always holds out on them regarding information and asked him not to this time as it involved their daughter, Eleven doesn’t seem to acknowledge her concern or explain anything and then just leaves!! Mind you, this is Amy who just went through a traumatizing situation and is supposed to be his best friend, he just never seems to genuinely care about her. The Captain and Madame Kovarian said at one point that it had been a month and the Doctor hadn’t showed up, I’d sincerely hoped for Amy’s sake that it wasn’t true because...he has a time machine! How could he just leave her there for a month?? When Ten went through the Midnight episode you don’t see him talking to Donna onscreen, but you can obviously tell that he told her what happened. In the episode with Jenny you see Ten and Donna walking together and he reveals he’s been a father before. It just feels like a very different character, Eleven is always running from place to place and never seems to talk to his friends. 

The Moffat: I can suspend my disbelief at times but there were a lot of poorly written moments in this episode. It seemed like they really wanted the Doctor dead but didn’t shoot him when he appeared instead leaving him to give a speech then as soon as he was gone a soldier went and shot a monk. Amy asked him if he has children when she said in “The Doctor’s Wife” episode that she knows about the time war. Why would she ask if she knows he’s the last of the Time Lords? They’re called the Headless Monks, why did it seem like it was supposed to be a huge deal that they are...headless?? They gave a speech about it and everything like it was a huge reveal lol. The Doctor’s “army” led  everyone away but they actually left behind a bunch of armed Monks? Rather conveniently Eleven brings the cot outside instead of them going into the TARDIS. Why was that done? Oh it’s because there’s going to be a force field leaving them unable to get to safety. If Amy went through such a horrifying situation to me it would seem to make the most sense that she would go inside the TARDIS asap to get some rest and they would all try to get to the Time Vortex immediately. Lorna meets the Doctor as a girl and becomes a soldier because she wanted to see him again--another repeating Moffat theme.

The Unresolved: Madame Kovarian’s motivation seems to be that there is a war against the Doctor, lets see what her next step is. In “The Doctor’s Daughter” Ten gives Jenny a very emotional speech about what it takes to be a Time Lord, I don’t know enough about the lore to understand how River has Time Lord DNA just from being conceived on the TARDIS, and it seemed even Eleven didn’t know. Amy and her Ganger were somehow still connected even though Eleven seemed to imply when his own Ganger was made that that’s when there was a sort of “split”, maybe that will be explained later. Was Vastra the same one from S5 I think Silurians were the species name?

Overall I felt very disappointed with the way this episode was written, and even if some things are explained later this was one of my least favorite episodes of the entire 5.5 seasons I’ve seen so far. Perhaps the worst thing for me was that I was bored watching it, that’s something that’s only very rarely happened. 

#doctor who #anti moffat #anti river song #moffat salt #anti eleven #anti eleventh doctor #dw watch #my ramblings #by far the most negative i've been #truly one of the worst episodes i've seen #at this point i don't think eleven deserves amy as a friend #i just want to take her out of this story and put her with a version of the doctor that actually cares about her #a good man goes to war

[nowitstimetoheal]

Dear Dad

Dear readers ~ first of all, I want to warn you that this letter discusses my actual childhood sexual assault, neglect, and describes a disturbing amount of hate and anger I had and the thoughts of homicide and my suicide attempt. This will not be for everyone. If these discussions trigger you, please know your feelings are valid. It’s alright to be triggered even though people want to weaponize that against you and make it seem like you’re overreacting. You are not overreacting. You’re hurt and are dealing with things that people can’t see or feel for themselves. Being triggered is your brain’s way of protecting you. I’m sorry you’re going through whatever you’re going through. I hope that if you choose to read this that it might be able to articulate your thoughts or helps you see things in a different light. I hope that you find peace. I hope you will know love. I hope you can heal. You are worth it. Your life is worth living. I know it’s easy for some schmuck to say that. It’s entirely different to mean it. I’ve been through my own hell and it took me a long time to accept that my life is worth living. I sincerely hope you can reach that same bliss. Because it really is so freeing to realize you matter.

October 6, 2022

7:17 PM - Surprise, AZ

Dear Dad,

It’s been a long time since we last spoke or saw each other, so I’m sure this is out of the blue and you’re wondering why I’m suddenly writing to you.

Maybe you’re interested. Maybe you don’t care. Maybe you think I’mw writing to ask forgiveness for what happened between us. The truth is that I don’t care one way or the other how you feel. I’m doing this for me, and me alone, so take it as you will.

Since the beginning of the lockdown, I’ve been watching a lot of tarot readings. Yes, I know mom wouldn’t be happy about it and you probably think my soul is going to hell because of that.

Save me a seat, I guess.

Anyway… these readers have told me over and over again that I have something from my past that I need to heal so that I can move on and be happy. It’s easy to say that love and abundance are coming into someone’s life. I could start up a YouTube channel and do just that so I can quit my job, but then I found a couple of readers who mentioned things I’ve never told anyone. Not my closest friends, not my fiancé, not a priest, religious leader, a therapist… not even my dog.

It’s taken me nearly three years to figure out what they were talking about, but then, a few readers mentioned that I could use my gift to help others heal.

It dawned on me immediately what it was that I needed to heal and so, here I am, using my gift of writing to make myself vulnerable so I can try and heal this pain so that I can have the life you robbed me of.

The first memory I have was of two men standing over mer, one holding my wrists in one hand, my waist in the other while the other man held my ankles up while he raped me.

Remember that, dad? You should. You were there too. You were watching all of it happen just feet away. But instead of being enraged to the point of murdering these men like other men have, you just stood there and watched.

Why?

What happened that would lead you to allowing your only daughter, your three year old child to be raped by two men?

Did you care about how this would affect me for the rest of my life? Did you think I would forget about it because of how young I was?

Did you ever look at me or at my mother and think of what happened?

Do you regret it? Do you wish you had done anything different to protect me?

Part of me doesn’t think you did. Know why? Because of how you looked at me until I left the family. Yes, I’ll admit it. I left the family. You didn’t actually disown me. You gave me two options: respect you (and that absolute cunt of a wife you moved into mom’s bed weeks after she died you bastard) or leave. I couldn’t respect you because you chose to believe her over me. You let her label all the food except the spaghetti for me and AJ to eat. You let her tell me to get a job if I wanted to eat while you told me I couldn’t have one. I couldn’t respect either of you for that so I left.

But anyway, I digress….

You looked at me like I was a piece of meat you could have. That’s why I hid in my room all the time. Remember that orange halter dress I had when I was in high school? I loved it so much. I felt so pretty in it and you had to go and take that away from me by ogling me.

Sure, it was going to happen. I wanted my boyfriend to ogle me. I wanted other cute guys at school to ogle me. That was fine because they were my age.

A girl should never be sexualized by her own god damn father.

You fucking disgusting dog.

I wanted to kill you and AJ when I was five. Did you know about that? I wonder if mom knew. I wonder if anyone knew that. I had plans on how I would do it. I was going to put bleach in your coffee. I didn’t do anything because I knew I would be caught. I was so angry, but I didn’t know why. 

I had forgotten what had happened. I just knew anger. I knew I was afraid of you. I knew I hated the way you looked at me. I hated being around you.

We all did though. 

Mom wanted to divorce you when I was five. She was talking to your mom about it once. We were at grandma’s house. AJ and I were standing in the front room, remember the one she used to put the Christmas tree in so we could see it from the street or see the neighbor guy who played Santa Claus? The room where we played Monopoly and checkers? That room.

Grandma told grandpa that mom wanted to divorce you. That was when mom came straight to me and told me to tell her if I ever didn’t like you.

I wanted to say how much I hated you, but I didn’t. I was scared. 

It wasn’t fair of her to put it on me, but I think about it sometimes. Would she still be here if I had spoken up? If I had been braver, would she have gotten cancer? Would we be happier? Would we be normal? 

Do you realize the pain you’ve caused? Do you care? Do you wonder what would have happened if you and mom had divorced? Did you have to be in control? Did you threaten to take AJ and I if she pursued it?

She was so sad, but had so much to give. Do you realize that? She could talk to anyone like she’d known them forever. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to me and I think you put her in a glass container like a firefly because you didn’t want to give her up. You stifled her, you stifled me, you stifled AJ. You ruined three lives because of how fucking selfish you were.

I didn’t understand why I was so angry all the time. I didn’t understand why AJ got all the attention no matter how hard I tried. You took so much happiness, so much joy, so much life.

I wanted my uncles to do terrible things to me. I wanted to crush weak men. The rage I had was hard to control. 

It wasn’t until a few years ago, just before the pandemic, that I remembered what had happened. I watched a documentary about a girl who admitted to having the same kinds of thoughts I did. It was terrifying and confusing. Everything snapped back into my mind like my brain had tried to hide this terrible memory away with duct tape, but the tape failed and memories flooded back to me.

I realized this is why I lashed out so much when I was a kid. Why I had a bad relationship with food. Why I couldn’t form a decent relationship with anyone. I had to have control over absolutely everything because I was the only one who could keep me safe. Do you understand that? As a *child* I had to control things because I didn’t think anyone would protect me.

I acted out as a way to cry out for help. I didn’t know the words to use. I didn’t understand what had happened so I did what I could to get someone, ANYONE, to help me. But no one listened.

I could have jumped up on top of a table in a crowded room and screamed until my vocal cords snapped and no one would care.

It would just be “Shut up Zoë. AJ’s the only one that matters. Not you. No one cares that you were raped and that you were only three. No one cares. You don’t matter you stupid, pathetic, useless, ugly little cretin!”

Why didn’t I matter to anyone? Why did no one love me enough to protect me? I was a baby. I was so small. Why did you hate me? Why did you do this to me? WHY ME?!?! I wanted to die. I took a handful of pills the night after mom died. I was so scared of what you were going to do to me.

What did you do that led up to you letting your coworkers rape me? Oh yeah, I remember them wearing their camos. 

The weird thing is, I’m not angry with them. I will never have justice for what happened. Not from them, not from you. I’ve struggled thinking a higher power cares about me. It’s taken me a long time to figure out what I believe in religiously and spiritually, but I’m making progress. I’m learning to be grateful for all the bad that’s come into my life and I’m trying to look at things that go wrong in my life and try to understand why it’s happened. 

I’m going to have to learn how to clearly and efficiently communicate my emotions, especially when I’m upset, to my partners. I’m going to have to learn that most people aren’t going to flip out on me when I’m angry about something and trust they’ll listen to me and do what they can to rectify the situation. Do you understand that because of something you let happen to me when I was a child has made me so skittish and pathetic that I can’t ask my partner to turn down his music a little because I am terrified he’ll lash out at me? He has a terrible temper - like you -- fuck he’s so much like you - but it’s not fair to think he’ll get upset about something simple like a volume adjustment. It’s not like I’m asking him for $200.

I have a lot of work to do to become normal again. It’s going to take so much trust in other people and I am scared I’m going to fail and be alone for the rest of my life.

Step one involves getting back out on my own. I’m going to have to leave my current fiancé because I realize he’s not good for me. He just doesn’t care about me. I think he has a lot of personal work to do for himself too. I hope that me leaving will help him see that and it’ll be the catalyst to him becoming his best self.

Step two is to make myself a priority. Eat better, exercise, pay off debt, save money, buy a car, make close friends I can have fun with and trust, start my own business, take a cooking class or two, and dare to be able to dream of having enough to save up for retirement. 

All of this pain over a stupid decision you made when I was three.

I hope you can taste your regret.

I will never have justice and fuck you for that.

But what more can I do? What more can I say? I could keep on hating you and pulling those memories back up. What good does that do for me? It doesn’t. It just keeps hurting me and I’m so sick of being tired and sad. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of not having love in my life. I’m tired of not having friends. 

I heard you remarried and are actually happy now. That’s good. I heard AJ got married and had a baby. I’ll never know my nephew or sister in law because I can’t be around you and you’ve all poisoned AJ against me.

I hear you became a born again Christian. 

I pray God will deal with you on my behalf. You’ll get yours in ways I can never carry out.

I’m still angry, I’m still hurt (I’m crying hard right now but this has been cathartic to write). Can you be angry and still forgive? I have to let this go. I have to. I’ll never heal if I don’t and I want so much to heal. It won’t happen overnight, I know that, but in time it will. I just have to take this first step.

I hope one day I find a friend who is close enough to me to be like a sister and her dad is a good man who loves his daughter unconditionally and would do anything to protect her. I hope I can look at their relationship and pretend that was us. Would that be a Band-Aid though?

I was so proud of you being in the military. For a long time. I remember when you went off to Desert Storm and how grandma hung a picture the news station took of me when you were coming back. I had a big floppy hat on and a little American flag. I think I had on a pink and white striped shirt and my hair was short.

You know… I didn’t know you worked with the Special Olympics. That’s really commendable and admirable and I’m proud of you for that. That was really touching to learn.

I’m sorry to hear you have cancer now and are having problems paying for monthly bills. Fuck cancer. It sounds like your prognosis is good and I’m glad to hear of that. Just because I’m angry with you doesn’t mean I wish the worst on you. I’m not you. 

I have to move on from all this. I have to let this go. I have to heal. I have to love myself and learn how to live. I have to be both a mother and a father to myself. I have to protect and care for my inner child the way you and mom should have. I know I treated mom like she was perfect after she died, but I was a kid when she left us. What more could you expect? Did you know she said she wanted to call me Sai? I wish I had been brave enough to ask her why. I presumed she was talking about Sais. I didn’t understand where that came from because I thought our conversation had been pleasant. I didn’t know what I had said to make her say that. I just walked away because I was scared to ask. I wish I knew what she meant.

Anyway, I have a lot to do, so - I forgive you. Completely. I hope you know peace in your golden years. I hope one morning, you wake up early and go for a walk. I hope that morning, it’s misty and the sky looks like it’s made of velvet until the golden orange sun rises and bathes everything in light. I hope that morning is quiet and cool. I hope when that morning happens, you think of me. 

Take care daddy.

 - Zoë

#nonfiction #true story #dear dad #dad issues #self healing #healingjourney #child abuse #child sex offenses #child neglect #suicide #homicide #anger #hurt #trigger words #forgive #move on #the best is yet to come #open letter #dad problems #fuck cancer #attempted suicide #not for everyone #unedited #not proofread #i pray we all know peace