#she's helped so many women in her lifetime that she understands enough of what they go through in a society like theirs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

somekndofnature · 5 months

Text

Summary:

We're back in the present fam! Inuyasha and Miroku have a heartfelt talk and he does his best to convince Kagome to be their manager again. Kagome gets a first taste of the new music.

Notes:

Hello all! It has been a helluva week. This story has been my only escape and comfort. So, I hope you all enjoy. Might post another chapter later if I'm feeling cute. 🤪

Soooo... the music. There's a lot for this chapter. First, 'Little Lion Man' by Mumford & Sons and disclaimer: just because I still like songs from this band does not mean I agree with any of their personally held beliefs. It honestly feels weird that I need to type that but... better safe. Anyway, next is a song by Tim Minchin called 'The Absence of You'. Please look this up on YouTube. You won't regret it. The music is stunning. The next one is 'Panic Station' by Muse.

And finally, we get to 'hear' the first song from Inuyasha in this chapter. It is a song that I feel really portrays how he has felt the last six years without Kagome. So, if you would like to listen to the song, this is the YouTube link.

I hope those links work. I'm not exactly savvy with these things, but I'm learning!

AO3

Chapter 6: Is Ever What It Seems

Present day…

Inuyasha shook away the invasive memory of the first time he made love to Kagome, wondering what possessed his mind to conjure it in the first place. Not that he didn’t think about it… often . He found an enormous amount of comfort in reliving that peaceful moment. This wasn’t the time, though, no matter how tempting. It wouldn’t do him any good to get his hopes up. He had a long way to go before she would trust him enough to be that vulnerable again. Not to mention, his pants were getting tight. The last thing he wanted was to greet her again with a full-blown erection—if Sango managed to convince her to stay.

“You look nervous,” Miroku said, interrupting his thoughts.

Inuyasha snorted. “Yeah. No shit, asshole.”

“Did you expect this to be easy?”

“No,” he snapped before crossing his arms over his chest with a dejected sigh. “I just didn’t realize how much I had hurt her. I mean, I’m not an idiot. I know it was a lot but—”

You broke me.

He shuddered.

Miroku took a deep breath. “Do you want my advice?”

“No,” he answered reflexively, before giving it more serious thought. Inuyasha sat forward and shrugged. “Uh… yeah.”

Miroku tossed his dark hair out of his eyes while fighting to suppress the smug smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Inuyasha’s stomach soured in an instant; maybe this was a mistake.

“Look, you arrogant prick, are you gonna be helpful or not?” he slumped back into his chair.

Miroku chuckled. “Take it slow. That’s my advice. It’ll take a while to rebuild things between you.”

“Keh, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay.” His friend sat a little straighter. “Kagome asks Sango about you all the time.”

Inuyasha’s head whipped towards him. “Really?”

“Yes,” Miroku said with a nod. “They spend quite a bit of time talking about you.”

“That’s a good sign, right?”

“I would think so,” he replied before reaching forward and grabbing his wrist. “Just… don’t get into something you’re not ready for.”

Inuyasha frowned. “I don’t—"

“Believe it or not, I understand your hesitation before,” Miroku explained. “Kagome is your mate. We’re talking about a lifetime commitment here.”

“So?” Inuyasha lifted one shoulder. “You’re doing that with Sango. You’re getting married.”

“Yes, but I’ve had other relationships before Sango,” he said. “How many women have you even been with?”

“What the fuck does that matter?” he sneered.

“Well, you always seemed very experienced from the outside,” Miroku replied. “But now I know that was all a lie.”

“Keh.” Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest and tried to keep his irritation from boiling over.

He wasn’t really mad at Miroku; he was mad at himself, at how badly he had fucked things up. This building rage was going to need an outlet and the only target for his anger was the hanyou that looked back at him from the mirror each morning.

“Seriously?” Miroku prodded. “You didn’t sleep with any of those women? Even Kikyou?”

A low growl built up in his chest. “No, not even Kikyou.”

“Wow. Why did she stick around for so long?”

Inuyasha rested his head against the wall behind him, fingers playing at the edge of his jeans pocket. “Mutually beneficial? She didn’t mind that we weren’t intimate so long as I supplied the good drugs. And there were times that I thought she played for the other team, but even relationships like that have their limits, I guess. I haven’t seen or heard from her since the night I OD’d—not that I really want to.”

“So, how was it mutually beneficial?” Miroku asked with a frown.

He shrugged. “She kept other women away for the most part.”

“Including Kagome…”

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly while his shoulders bunched with tension.

“So, how long has it been?”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Inuyasha,” Miroku said while rolling his eyes. “How long since you’ve been laid?”

“Christ, man!” He snapped, shoving his hand into his pocket and withdrawing the slim vape pen. “I’m sitting here baring my soul and that’s what you choose to focus on?”

Miroku gave him a moment to take a long pull and calm his already frayed nerves. “Level with me, how long?”

Inuyasha released a whispy cloud of vapor from his lips, rolling the herbaceous flavor around his tongue as his agitation lessened. “Almost six years, I think.”

His friend hissed in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“Got no one to blame but myself.” He snorted and took another hit. “Besides, that isn’t what I miss most about Kagome.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miroku smile. “What do you miss the most?”

He inhaled from his pen again while staring at the entrance to the restrooms, willing her to reappear. “I miss talking to her. She always made me feel lighter… like I was finally at peace. She quieted my mind and taught me how to just… be. Whatever I felt—happiness, sadness, anger—I could just exist with them, could even manage to see the beauty in them, without fighting against it all the time.” He sighed. “Now, nothing seems beautiful. It all just passes right through me and leaves no imprint.”

Miroku remained quiet long enough for Inuyasha to get self-conscious. He wasn’t normally one to spew out such sappy romanticisms. He used his music to communicate with the world. It was easier to try and put all those feelings to a melody than say them straight to someone’s face.

He took a cautious glance in Miroku’s direction and grimaced. He was moon-eyed and fluttering his lashes with a dreamy sigh.

“What?” Inuyasha sneered.

“Sometimes you manage to say the most wonderful things to exactly the wrong person.”

“Huh?”

Miroku rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one you should be telling this to, dickhead. Save the sweet talking for the girls,” he hissed, gesturing over Inuyasha’s shoulder.

He whipped around, mouth going dry as he watched Sango and Kagome approach the table again with puffy red eyes. Jumping to his feet, Inuyasha was struck dumb. All the words that he had just spoken to Miroku swirled around in his head like a letter goulash.

Kagome looked at him with her brows raised in expectation. “Inu?”

“B-beautiful!” he said, loud enough for every head to turn in their direction.

Inuyasha heard Miroku snickering from behind him while Sango stared as if he had just lost several IQ points.

“What?” Kagome asked in a soft tone.

He cleared his throat as his gaze found the white tips of his Chucks. “You-you’re beautiful.”

“T-thank you.”

“I’m sorry that I lost my temper,” he said, working up the nerve to look her in the eye.

Kagome’s baby blues stared back at him with timid vulnerability in their depths. “I appreciate that.”

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, reaching out to grab her fidgeting hand. “But you’ve never been worthless, Kagome. Certainly not to me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she released a shaky breath.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Miroku asked, interrupting the intimate moment.

Every eye turned to him. Sango looked ready to throttle him, but Inuyasha was thankful for the distraction. There were so many things he needed to tell her; most of them too intimate for a public space like this.

Kagome cleared her throat but didn’t pull away from him. Inuyasha rubbed his thumb along the back of hers.

“The verdict is that I’ll listen to the music,” she answered before meeting his gaze. “Then I’ll decide.”

“Okay,” he said, leading her back towards her chair. “We can listen to it right now.”

“Ummm…”

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Sango interjected, coming to Kagome’s side and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “We have a previous engagement.”

“What?! What engagement?”

His friend’s eye narrowed. “Kagome came here to have a relaxing time with a friend—i.e. me. So, we are going to get pampered.”

“Wait,” he said. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Kagome replied. “I’ll call you once I get home.”

“But—”

“Inuyasha, stop smothering her,” Sango snapped.

“I’m not,” he snarled in return.

Kagome swallowed hard and worked herself out of both their holds. “I’m gonna grab a coffee before we go.”

Flabbergasted, Inuyasha watched her go without complaint before turning his livid glare on Sango. “What the fuck? How can I win her back if I don’t even get to be around her?”

“Right now, that’s not my problem.”

A low growl built in his chest. “I thought you were gonna help me.”

“Inuyasha, calm down,” Miroku said from across the table. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Shut up! I want to know what the fuck she thinks she’s doing.”

Sango pursed her lips. “I’m trying to make up with my friend, if you don’t mind. You weren’t the only one who let her down, you know?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I chose you, Inuyasha,” she hissed. “Everything you put her through, and I knew about it all, but I chose you. I didn’t talk to her for over a year because I didn’t know how to apologize for that.”

Inuyasha’s jaw tightened as a new load of guilt landed heavy on his shoulders.

“Kagome’s right,” Sango continued. “She may have left, but we are the ones who abandoned her… after everything she did for us.” She looked between both the men at the table with their heads bowed in shame. “We have a lot of faith to rebuild between all of us.”

“Fine,” Inuyasha sneered, while reaching forward to unzip the front pocket of Kagome’s suitcase.

“What are you doing?’ Sango asked with lingering irritation in her tone.

He fished around and withdrew her airline information, thanking every kami in existence that she hadn’t changed her travel habits. The woman was anal, with hardcopy backups of all her information. Pulling out his phone, he took a quick picture of the flight number.

“Inuyasha?”

“I’m not letting her get away that easy,” he replied, before packing everything away again.

He looked up with a smirk as Sango rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t sound creepy, at all.”

He scowled.

“What doesn’t sound creepy?” Kagome interrupted, coming up behind her with a paper cup in hand.

Inuyasha straightened, worried that he had been caught.

“Nothing,” Sango dismissed with a wave. “Let’s get going. I’m suffocating on the amount of testosterone in here.”

She circled the table and snatched up her purse before leaning forward to give Miroku a quick kiss.

“Have fun,” he said with a smile.

Inuyasha stood when Kagome approached him and wrapped her arms around his middle. A lump lodged in his throat as he melted into the embrace. He squeezed her closer, memorizing the feel of her slender body and intoxicating scent.

Mine , his demon sighed in satisfaction.

She pulled away too soon and smiled up at him. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ve missed you, Kagome,” he said while nuzzling against her cheek.

He heard her sharp inhale before she admitted, “I miss you, too.”

Inuyasha almost sank to knees. “Then stay,” he whispered, cupping her face in his hand.

Kagome shook her head and took a step back. “I can’t, Sango and I have plans.”

“That’s right, bitch!” Sango interjected. “We are gonna tear shit up!”

Inuyasha tossed a glare in her direction.

“Just send me a link to the playlist,” Kagome said as she gathered her things.

“But,” he replied, feeling panicked at her inevitable departure.

Both women took a step towards the door before he leapt forward and grabbed Kagome’s free hand.

“Wait!”

“Inuyasha?” She turned to look at him with her brow raised.

“Just, really think about it,” he pleaded. “I need you with me, Kagome.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I will. I promise.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Thank you.”

“Alright Romeo,” Sango said from beside her. “Now let her go. We’ve got places to be.”

It was harder than he thought, letting go of her hand. He wanted to hold onto her forever, but eventually he found the strength. He peeled his fingers from around hers and released her, returning Kagome’s wave as they slipped out the door.

Inuyasha turned and walked back to the table before plopping into a chair and covering his face with his hands. “That went worse than I imagined.”

“Really?” Miroku said from across the table. “I thought it went well.”

“Keh, how d’ya figure?” he mumbled while dragging his fingers down his face.

His friend shrugged. “She didn’t refuse.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “She was just too nice to do it twice in one sitting. You know how ‘Gome is; she’s too sweet for her own good.”

“Have a little more faith in her, Inuyasha,” Miroku chastised. “You asked her to think seriously about it and I’m sure she will.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” he grumbled.

A heavy silence settled between them for several long moments. Inuyasha tried to muster any feelings of hope but only managed a mild dread. He slumped further in his chair with a sigh.

The shroud of despondency that was his constant companion had lifted in Kagome’s presence but was quickly retaking its rightful place. Her light and happiness had shined on him for only a moment, warming him from the inside out. Now, he was growing cold once more. A shiver stole through him.

The scraping sound of Miroku’s chair across the wood floor pinned his ears against his head with irritation.

He circled the table and stopped in front of Inuyasha. “What are you doing today, besides wallowing in self-pity?”

“I don’t wallow,” he sneered while crossing his arms over his chest.

“You do,” Miroku deadpanned. “And it’s unhealthy.”

“Fuck off.”

Instead, his friend stuck out his hand. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“I’m not gonna let you sit here and lick your wounds all alone,” Miroku said, grabbing his wrist. “The girls went out to have some fun and so should we.”

Inuyasha reluctantly let his friend pull him onto his feet. “Fun?”

“Yes, fun,” he replied while dragging him towards the door. “You know, what normal people do to cheer themselves up when they’re feeling down.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath but allowed his friend to lead him out of the coffee shop and onto the busy sidewalk. He cocked one ear towards Miroku’s yammering, just barely managing to grunt or nod at the right time. His attention was elsewhere.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and typed in a quick Google search; Inuyasha had a flight to book.

--------------------------------------------------------

Kagome pushed through her hotel room door with a grunt and flipped on the first switch she could find. Soft light filled the generic beige space, somehow managing to look both inviting and spartan at the same time. She was used to frequent travel and lonely hotel rooms, but tonight the emptiness settled in her gut like a cold ball of lead.

She let the door slam closed behind her and wrestled her small rolling bag down the short hallway, stopping by the bed. Kagome collapsed onto the mattress and fell back with an exhausted sigh. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much; she hadn’t realized just how much she missed her friend. It had been so fulfilling to spend time with Sango, but now that she was alone, all the emotions that she had suppressed throughout the day were coming back to haunt her.

The betrayal that she originally felt upon showing up in the coffee shop still lingered, despite Sango’s multiple apologies. Kagome couldn’t help it. Even when she was trying to make positive and healthy changes in her life, Inuyasha’s shadow haunted her. She was trying to move on, to put the past behind her, and yet all her efforts were futile. The past demanded reconciliation, no matter how hard she tried to run from it.

Kagome sat straight and squared her shoulders, reminding herself that she was the only one who governed the course of her life, nothing else. In the end, the decision that she was contemplating was hers alone to make. She had power; she had agency. Her future was completely in her control.

Feeling a little more settled, she turned to her suitcase and unzipped it, withdrawing her pajamas and toiletry bag. She kicked off her shoes and padded towards the bathroom, pausing next to her purse. Through the slightly gaped opening, she saw her phone screen shine back at her.

Inuyasha had sent her a link to his playlist while she and Sango were getting manicures. Kagome had managed to ignore the gnawing curiosity until now, but it was calling to her. She picked up the phone and opened the link, brow raising when she saw only four tracks in the queue.

She dug her ear buds out of her purse and popped them in before selecting one at random. The first notes began to play as she headed into the bathroom, their heaviness and deep tenor startling her. It was out of the norm for the punk singer.

Kagome dropped her items on the counter, brow furrowing as she listened. It was rough and she could tell that Inuyasha had played all the instruments. The bass wasn’t as smooth as when it was in Sango’s hands and the percussion lacked Miroku’s childlike thrill, but it was still impressive… and different.

Inuyasha’s raspy voice held a festering pain, instead of the usual irreverent sarcasm. As she listened to lyrics that seemed to be pulled straight from his soul, her heart twisted. She could feel the raw vulnerability in his words and ached along with him. The story he told was full of regret and the same struggle that every sentient being on the planet toiled through; the struggle to accept yourself.

Tears welled in her eyes, but Kagome forced herself into her normal bedtime routine, removing her makeup and washing the day away from her face while trying to convince herself that the moisture on her cheeks came only from the water. She dressed in her dark green sleep shorts and black tank top before crawling back into bed and flipping off the light just as the last track began to play. It started with the humming silence of white noise before being broken by Inuyasha’s deep voice.

“I haven’t showed this to others yet because…” He paused for a long moment. “Well, it’s rough… but so far, I think it tells you everything you need to know.”

He took a deep breath and Kagome heard the subtle stilted entry of a bass in the background for several seconds. She began to relax before his urgent voice whispered into her ear.

“ Paralyzed, going out of my mind, can’t seem to help myself …” he trailed off before returning with the same anxious tone. “ Hear your voice, see your face, call your name, stuck in a living hell .”

Her breath hitched as his tenor turned desperate, growling the last few words as if they pained him.

“ And I sleep just to leave this reality,” he crooned without giving her a reprieve. “Then I wake and it takes you away from me. I can't believe you and I are out of time; I never said goodbye. ”

There was a pause where it felt like something was missing, a beat of silence that yearned for a voice before the crash of a guitar blared.

“ You were the only thing worth living for! ” he half-sang and half-shouted. “ How could you go and leave me here; I’m all alone! ” Several heavy power cords sounded in rapid succession. “ So, I walk this earth half-alive, til the day I die. I’m killing time, killing time…for you.”

Kagome threw her headphones off before a sob burst from her lips. The absence of Inuyasha’s voice both soothed and tore at her. The emotion in his words matched hers; she had so many regrets, so much that she wanted to say to him. Her hand was reaching for her phone and dialing his number before she could think better of it. She heard it ring twice before being answered.

“’Ello,” Inuyasha rumbled from the other side of the line.

Her throat constricted; she didn’t know what to say. A breathy whimper burst from her lips.

She heard the rustling of fabric. “Kagome? What is it? What’s wrong?”

The blatant concern in his tone ripped a trembling breath from her chest.

“Kagome! Are you okay?” he asked, his worry palpable even over the phone. “Baby, you gotta answer me.”

“I-I’m fine,” she choked out, the frantic endearment making her heart ache.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“I just… had a nightmare,” she fibbed through tears.

He released a relieved breath. “And you called me?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Kagome blubbered. “S-sorry, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“No!” He bit out a quiet curse. “I don’t mind. What was your nightmare about?”

“I-I-I don’t even remember,” she fumbled. “I just woke up crying and needed to hear your voice.”

“Does that happen often?”

“What?” she replied with a watery laugh that held no trace of humor. “The waking up crying or needing to hear your voice?”

“Both.”

Her voice cracked as she answered, “Yeah, actually.”

“Dammit,” he hissed. “This is difficult.”

“What is?”

Inuyasha huffed in frustration; she could picture him running a hand through the shaggy bangs around his face. “Listening to you cry like this without being able to hug you.”

Her heart swelled. “Would you? If you were here?”

“Baby, say the word and I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he replied in a low tone that sent shivers through her.

Kagome tensed. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t do anything except make me feel more confused than I already am,” she whined. “I shouldn’t have even called you.”

“You can call me anytime, day or night.”

“So could you,” she accused. “And yet you never have.”

“It’s not the same,” he explained.

“How?”

“Because I’m the one who fucked up,” Inuyasha replied in a heated tone. “I have no right to come strolling back, asking for a place in your life, especially if you’ve already moved on and are happy.”

“And yet you got Sango to lure me here for this surprise attack?”

He growled. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

She ignored his flimsy excuses and scoffed. “Well, what if I am happy?” Kagome lied through her teeth. “What if I have moved on without you?”

Inuyasha went alarmingly quiet for several moments. “Is that true?”

Her grip on the phone tightened as she bit at the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t lie to him again.

“’Is it?” he snapped, making her jump.

“What does it matter?” she cried. “Things are what they are. You made your choices, and I made mine. That’s the end of it.”

“We both know that’s bullshit,” he hissed. “It matters to me. I want you with me ‘Gome… and I want you happy.”

The heartfelt sentiment, so close to what she had heard moments before on that playlist, pulled another sob from her throat. “I don’t know if you can get both.”

“Gimme a fuckin’ chance, at least!”

She flinched and sucked in a sharp breath at the anger in his voice. “I should go.”

“No!” he shouted before tempering his tone. “I just—I just need you to give me a chance. You said you would really think about it, but it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I haven’t,” she assured him. “I’m keeping my promise.”

“Have you even listened to the music?” he asked, reminding her of their first meeting.

Kagome paused, thinking back over her emotional experience with it. “Umm.. not yet. I haven’t had the time.”

“Keh,” he scoffed. “If you’re not going to take this seriously then—”

“I am taking it seriously,” she interrupted. “If you recall, I was off the clock today, spending time with a friend. I’ll get back to work when, and if, I feel like it.’

“So, you’re basically telling me to go fuck myself,” he drawled.

“No, of course not. I’m saying it’s my life, Inuyasha,” she replied. “I’ll decide what type of toxic situation I step into.”

“I’m not fuckling toxic!” he shouted before his mouth audibly snapped shut.

Kagome sighed and rubbed at the headache forming behind her eyes. “This conversation is getting us nowhere. I should go.”

“Wait,” he pleaded. “Are you feeling any better?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?

“Your nightmare,” Inuyasha explained. “Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?”

A reluctant smile found Kagome’s lips. “Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

“Keh, don’t thank me,” he dismissed. “I’ve probably only reminded you why you left in the first place.”

She hummed. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“What does that mean?”

“To be honest,” she murmured. “I haven’t felt this alive in six years.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

The silence stretched between them for several long moments before she released a pent breath. “Goodnight, Inuyasha.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” he replied cryptically. “Get some sleep, ‘Gome.”

She hummed in a non-committal tone. “I’ll do my best… bye.”

The phone beeped twice before going silent. She still felt lonely but a little warmer than before. Something about Inuyasha’s attitude caused an unbidden hope to bloom in her heart, no matter how hard she fought against it.

Kagome sighed and turned on her alarm before flipping off the light switch. She had a flight at eleven in the morning that she couldn’t miss. Then she could put all of this history behind her where it belonged and make a decision with a clear head.

She slumped against the mattress and tried to ignore the ghost of Inuyasha’s scent that her mind conjured from ephemera. He still smelled so good, inviting her to nuzzle and snuffle against him like some love-struck bitch. Kagome groaned at her own thoughts; she couldn’t be this far gone already, right?

She turned and punched the terrible hotel pillow into submission before settling on its lumpy corpse. Kagome tried to ignore the ominous darkness pressing in around her as she hunkered into the covers. She didn’t want to admit to herself how desperately she wanted Inuyasha’s arms to encircle her or how much safer she would feel within them.

#inuyashaxkagome #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha x kagome #modern au #inukag fic #rockband au #here with you #chapter 6

10 notes · View notes

animebw · 1 year

Text

Short Reflection: Kaguya-Sama: The First Kiss That Never Ends

I have never quite understood the hype behind Kaguya-sama.

Don't get me wrong, it's a great show. Actually, strike that; it's a fantastic show. It's one of the most consistently funny comedies of the past few years, and its clever character work and outrageous animation are more than deserving of their high praise. But whenever I hear people calling it the best rom com of all time, all I can think is, "Wow, y'all really are so young that you've never heard of Toradora, huh?" Never mind Kimi ni Todoke, Ore Monogatari, and countless other spectacular shoujo rom coms that people are all too quick to forget even exist. I love Kaguya-sama dearly, but I've never quite felt comfortable ranking it among the best of the best like so many others do.

At least, not until I watched this movie.

Now, though? I understand completely.

See, the reason I never rated this show as highly as other people is because to me, Kaguya and Shirogane's romance is the least interesting part of it all. Even after season 3 finally made me give a damn about them officially hooking up as a couple, Kaguya-sama is always at its most interesting to me when it's focused on anything other than its title character. Chika's insane wild card antics, Hayasaka's perfectly deadpan straight man routine, Ishigami's bizarrely endearing blend of misanthropy and sincerity... Kaguya's supporting cast has always been its biggest draw for me. Kaguya and Shirogane aren't bad by any means, and they've had plenty of great moments between them. But most of the time when Kaguya-sama is playing at being a straight romance, it just doesn't connect with me as strongly as it's trying to.

And that's why The First Kiss That Never Ends is so phenomenal. Because after four years of show, it finally, finally made me fall in love with the main romance of Kaguya-sama. After all this time, I get why these two crazy kids are so special to so many people. I get why countless adoring fans consider this their favorite rom com, even if it's still not my personal best. No longer am I standing on the sidelines in mild confusion; I am officially a full throated Kaguya-sama stan at last. And in accomplishing this feat, this movie finally helped me understand why these two weren't clicking for me before... and how I may not have been giving this show as much credit as it deserved.

You see, one of the central tropes in Kaguya-sama's romance is a trope that I have more bad experiences with than I can count: the Ice Queen. Kaguya is a frigid, closed-off girl who must learn to open her heart and be honest about her feelings over the course of the show. It's a character type I've seen a lot, and it's a character type that is dangerously easy to fuck up. Because if you don't treat this kind of story with care, it can very easily come off like the story sees her as a haughty bitch who needs to learn her place, stop being so stuck up, and let a man sweep her into his arms. And considering how many hang-ups a lot of male anime writers clearly have about writing female characters... yeah, let's just say I have enough nightmares of this trope being done wrong to last a lifetime.

And Kaguya's not even a bad example of the trope! She's always been a very well handled character, even as far back as season 1. But one always had this uncertainty in the back of my mind: how aware is this show of the gendered nature of the tropes it's playing with? There are countless times where either the narrator or the characters will make some sweeping statement about what girls are like, or what boys are like, or how relationships between men and women are "supposed" to work. And while they're always presented so absurdly that no rational person could take them seriously, it's never quite clear how unseriously we're supposed to take them. Cause, like... there's a lot of these moments for them to not be indicative of something.

So that's where I've been at with Kaguya the Ice Queen. A very loaded, very gendered trope in a series that has a very unclear stance of loaded, gendered tropes. Was it trying to say something? Did it have some grand thesis about the harmful nature of gendered expectations waiting in the wings? Or like so many anime before it, was it just uncritically parroting the same old tired expectations for good little boys and girls? Looking back, this was the sword of Damacles hanging over my head as I've watched and enjoyed Kaguya-sama, the uncertainty that kept me from opening my heart to it fully. Whether I could fully put it into words or not, I couldn't get past that question: is this show yet another victim of sexist stereotypes it doesn't fully understand?

Thank god, then, that The First Kiss Never Ends had finally proven the answer to be no.

Yes, if you thought the aftermath of Kaguya and Shirogane's first kiss was going to be smooth sailing for these two neurotic messes, you clearly don't know what show you're watching. They've taken the biggest step forward imaginable and brought their relationship right to the precipice of being official. Victory is so close they can taste it, but with that comes a terror the likes of which they've never felt before. Suddenly the reality of what their lives are about to become crashes up against their long standing hang-ups about love and self worth, and their mutual fear over thinking they aren't yet living up to the standard of what a Person In A Relationship is supposed to be leads to the biggest rift in their relationship yet. Neither understands what the other wants from them- hell, they don't even understand what they want from themselves. Which means after so many mental battles and false starts, it's time for Shirogane and Kaguya to rip off their masks and face each other's true selves once and for all, even if they can't bear the answers they think are waiting in the other's gaze.

And yes, in exposing themselves so completely, it makes clear just how inexorably their issues are bound up in gender. Kaguya's so obsessed with playing out the script of the submissive lady who lets the man make all the first moves that her spiraling self-loathing ends up hurting everyone who tries to get close to her. Miyuki's so wrapped up in the need to prove himself manly enough to be worthy of Kaguya that he loses the ability to connect with her on her own terms. And when these two deeply flawed approaches to romance collide with the heightened tension of two dumb kids desperate not to fuck everything up, they feed into each other in the worst way.

In other words, what this movie proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that Kaguya-sama fully understands the importance of leaving gender roles behind. The final boss of this show isn't just the inescapable fear of knowing and being known; it's also, explicitly, how that fear is made worse by gendered expectations that leave lost kids flailing in an attempt to live up to unhealthy notions of love and companionship. It's the kind of misunderstanding plot that actually makes sense and leaves you agonized because of how well it understands why their wires are getting crossed, as opposed to agonized because the writers are clearly dragging things out tortuously to avoid progressing the plot an inch further. For Kaguya and Shirogane to truly overcome their issues, they must leave behind their notions of who they're supposed to be, how they're supposed to act, and see each other as the people they are. Not a girl and guy following a pre-written script, but two complex human beings who make each other's lives that much brighter for being in them.

And in retrospect, that's always been what Kaguya-sama is about, hasn't it? All of this show's best non-comedic moments have been when it takes an ax to a restrictive gendered trope and lets the character behind it fly free. Miko's introductory arc was all about Shirogane realizing that this girl most people dismissed as a naggy bitch in need of an ego check was in fact one of the most passionate, dedicated people in the school, and doing his damndest to give her a chance to speak her truth. And hey, remember how Ishigami's rise from Reddit-pilled loner to someone who can embrace his place in the world without feeling like an incel involved him dressing in drag and feeling happy doing so? When you look back at the whole picture, Kaguya-sama has always been about breaking free of gendered expectations, in ways both big and small. And now that we've reached the climax of Kaguya and Shirogane's arc, it's finally time for them to break free just the same.

And my god, it is spectacular. It's an emotional payoff to years of slow-burn character work that makes look back and realize just how fucking good it’s been at laying the foundation for this moment. It bares Kaguya and Shirogane’s souls like never before, and it took me from being nominally interested in their antics to openly weeping over their attempts to understand each other. This isn't just a beautiful finale that washes away all my concerns, it's made me appreciate everything this show was doing so wonderfully before that I was too uncertain to pick up on. At last, I can see that Kaguya-sama is as incredible as everyone says. It is genuinely a masterpiece of rom com storytelling. It's an uproarious, beautiful tale about the importance of living true to yourself, even when you feel like yourself is something to run away from. And if this movie is the last part of the manga to be adapted, then it's as perfect a conclusion as I could hope for.

It's not a perfect movie overall, to be fair. It pretty much skips over an Ishigami/Miko subplot it starts building up, and there are points in the middle where the lighting is so dark it's almost impossible to see what's going on. Which is a weird misstep for a series that's always had such a strong visual identity. But as a climax to this war of hearts and minds that finally made me care about those hearts and minds, it's an unimpeachable triumph. The First Kiss That Never Ends made me believe the hype at last, and I can't wait to join the rest of the world in preaching the glories of the series it caps off so wonderfully. And I give it a score of:

9/10

Thank you all for reading. Here's holding out hope for season 4!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #kaguya-sama: love is war #kaguya-sama #kaguya-sama wa kokurasetai #kaguya sama

46 notes · View notes

annastrxng · 1 year

Note

The composure of a lifetime of practice falters. Cracks form in the marble of Washington's impenetrable mask. He could take seeing anger and defeat in his men, he could take the sadness of their women, but he cannot take this disappointment in one he would consider a friend. And even though she might not know his feelings or how she has wounded them, as she turns to walk away Washington leaps after, clinging to a last resort. "Ms Strong," his hand brushes ever so lightly against the fabric of her dress, fingers colliding with the sturdiness of her arm, before he remembers himself and pulls it back. "I- understand me correctly. I see that it is a good idea. This is simply not the time for such... Actions."

Unerring eyes spare the General no quarter in their disbelief, nor do they resign themselves to be content in yielding. She had been anticipating validation. However, what she gets is far different. She is met with judgmental silence before being dismissed.

Betrayal warps her features. How much more must she do to prove herself capable and trustworthy? How many more sacrifices must be made before she is considered enough?

Anna's lips press resolutely together to entrap the damning torrent of words she is burning to express but knows she can not. Clenching her jaw until it twitches, the brunette turns to abandon the tent.

Her assured, stormy stance suddenly seizes-up as a hand reaches for her. Sufficiently halted in her evacuation by the unexpected movement, startled orbs flash upwards to hone in on his softer ones. No little confusion etches across her countenance when he actually sees fit to address her personally. Sucking in a breath, she turns to face him. "It--- it is?" Her tremulous voice presses, still steeped in puzzlement.

Her stance softens considerably at the encouragement. "I--- I thought you hated it--" She confesses. "When?" She dares to prod. "When would be a better time? And -- And if I may, how can I help until the time arrives?"

#Anna Strong #answered ask

10 notes · View notes

moderndaycirce · 1 year

Text

Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

Tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant! Words: passion, lips, shoot and mental.

Passion - Nothing Else Matters (Chapter 21)

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about Alt.” He knew how dangerous he sounded, and he thought he’d healed pretty well after spending a whole year in the Net with her- but something about it coming out of Rogue’s mouth pissed him off.

“Why not? Because it all feels the same to me.” She was goading him now, he knew that tone. This wasn’t the calm and collected fixer Rogue, this was the Rogue he’d fallen for- the one full of fire and passion, who could fight as good as she fucked. God, he missed her.

“It’s nothing like that.”

“You haven’t changed at all, this is exactly who you are.” She snapped at him with anger in her eyes. “You just found another pretty woman who needs saving, sounds pretty fucking familiar doesn’t it?”

Lips - Nothing Else Matters (Unpublished WIP Chapter)

“Johnny.” Judy spoke, taking his attention off Panam. “We just want to help.”

He looked at the small techie, pursing his lips. V had cared a lot about her, and she’d come back to a city she’d hated because V had dropped off the map. And if there was anyone in this room who would understand the issue, then it’d be the porn editor who used to work in a sex club.

“How much of the footage did you watch?” He asked the women, still looking at Judy.

“We read-“ Panam started but he cut her off.

“The footage. Fuck, you got scop for brains or somethin’?” He was irritated now.

Shoot - Untitled SilverDyne WIP

“I think I’m in love with you.” Kerry mumbled, his words shooting straight through Johnny like a block of ice. He tried not to let Kerry feel how tense he’d gotten, shifting so he could curl closer into his side.

“No. You’re not.” Was all he replied, trying to keep his voice even, to not let Kerry hear how much that scared him. He’d already fucked up the last time someone had fallen in love with him. He was bound to fuck this up too.

“I am. And I’m terrified ‘cause I’ve never been in love before.” He heard Kerry whisper, his lips almost pressed against the skin on his chest. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, praying to the god he didn’t believe in that Kerry wouldn’t remember this in the morning. Praying that the drugs in his system were just making him have these feelings, that they weren’t real. Because he didn’t know what he’d do if they were.

Mental - Nothing Else Matters (Chapter 15)

“You really gonna punch a one armed man?” He shot at Kerry, whose eyes widened when he realised that Johnny was missing something important.

“What happened to your arm?” Kerry asked.

“We don’t know.” V said, finally composing herself enough to speak. “It wasn’t in there with him.”

“And he’s… all there?” Kerry asked, and Johnny scowled at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you’re talking about the engram, yes. I think so.” V said before Johnny could get any angrier. He’d heard too many comments over his lifetime about his mental health to let something like that go easily.

Tagging @thatkorka @z-lagorio @timaeusterrored and @bubble-bones

Your words are: Past, Moment, Frozen and Corner

#i just realised these are all johnny centric ones #tbh v had like 20 chapters to herself #so we're now working on some johnny story

5 notes · View notes

invisibleraven · 1 year

Note

Gift hug + Flynn/anyone??

Flynn barely looked up at the knock at the door, too absorbed in her needlework, merely calling out for whoever it was to enter. Glancing up she saw it was her lady's maid, Carrie.

"Afternoon milady, your father bade me come get you." Carriesaid, giving a tiny curtsey.

"Ugh, what does he want now?" Flynn groaned, setting aside her embroidery.

"He didn't say I'm afraid," Carrie said. "Just that I was to fetch you-at once."

"Which never means anything good," Flynn surmised. "Let's hope it's not another suitor. You would think after the disaster with Lord Danforth Evans he'd give up."

Carrie sniggered behind her hand and Flynn smiled at her. The poor girl had been their chaperone when the young Lord Nicholas had attempted to steal a kiss and ended up in the fountain for his troubles. Flynn had outright refused to see him after that, had even returned his apology gifts. Her father hadn't been happy about it, but trusted Flynn to know her own mind-usually.

Only when Flynn entered her father's study, Xavier wasn't alone. There was an unpleasant looking man there and a nervous man around her own age, eyes trained on the rug.

"Florence, this is the Duke Mercer, and his son, Alexander," her father said. "He is inquiring after your hand."

Shit, this was serious. Her father never called her by her real name unless necessary. Even at his most irate, both he and her mother referred to her as Flynn, a name she had given herself at a young age. And if a duke was calling on her father, a mere baron, she was in trouble. There was no higher position that could possibly be offered her, not with the princes both happily wed. She knew then that her future was sealed.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said with a nod of her head. "Though I must say I had hoped for a more romantic proposal, and to know my intended for some time before it happened."

"Pish, my son is of good stock, will offer you a title and wealth. You will have a lifetime o get to know one another," Duke Mercer said. "And as long as there is a male heir, you never have to see each other after that, we have many estates you can make a home in."

Flynn kept her features still, even if every fibre of her being was screaming at her to slap this man. "What say you Lord Mercer?" she asked.

"I am agreed with you," he said, voice soft. "May we at least take a walk before any agreement is struck?"

Xavier mercifully stepped in and agreed-as long as Carrie chaperoned them. The duke's face showed no disagreement, so the three of them set out. Carrie walking a few paces behind them, close enough to overhear them, but not so close as to make it obvious she was listening.

Alexander seemed a little stiff as they walked, not even looking at her. "Fine weather we're having, isn't it?' he finally remarked.

"You'll forgive me Lord Mercer if I would rather discuss the more pressing matter of our engagement than the weather," Flynn said.

"Of course," he said, ducking his head. "I must confess I had no say in the matter. "My father has declared that he wishes me wed, and he has exhausted more.. titled ladies. Most women would prefer a man who can show them any... romance?"

"You are not a romantic soul then Lord Mercer?" Flynn asked.

"Not with women, no," he admitted. "And it's Alex, please."

"Then you can call me Flynn," she replied. "And it seems we are in the same boat."

"Meaning?'

"I have no desire for men any more than you have for women," Flynn confessed. Tried to avoid looking at Carrie, and failed. Loved how her companion blushed, also failing to avoid her gaze.

"Ah, I see," Alex said. "I think your Carrie would get on well with my valet William then." He winked at her and Flynn's smile grew wide.

"Then I think we can reach an understanding regarding our marriage," Flynn replied.

The planning took no time at all, and soon enough, Flynn found herself wed to Alex, and bit back a smile when Carrie was more than overjoyed to join her at his home. Helped her undress after the ceremony and meal, asking Flynn what else she might need.

"Nothing right now, thank you."

"Perhaps a congratulations?' Carrie offered, holding her arms open. Flynn nodded and flew into Carrie's arms, savouring the moment, and unknowing to Carrie, slipped something into her apron pocket.

"Thank you Carrie, for everything," Flynn said sincerely. "Your care for me has kept me going through all this. I have no idea how I'd ever get through any of it without you."

"Luckily for you mistress, you'll never have to find out," Carrie said, bobbing in a curtsey and left.

Later that evening, as she undressed, a slip of paper fell from her apron, Carrie scooping it up, and grinned as the words registered.

I may his wife, but my heart will always be yours. Come find me after you retire and we'll enjoy my wedding night as loves should.

Carrie lit a candle and took off. Shared a smile with Willie as she saw him slipping into Lord Alex's chambers. And flew into Flynn's open arms once the door closed behind her.

#filled prompts #ficlet #flarrie #julie and the phantoms

10 notes · View notes

a-d-nox · 9 months

Note

Feedback: thank you so much for letting me play. I’m so appreciative, because I’ve been trying to learn about the different orbs. But the information is so limited or the websites charge. Everything you said is spot on. I definitely feel like my romantic situation is moving at all. I haven’t had any actual adult romantic relationships. But hearing that the universe is just using this time to teach me lessons that I’ll need for my lifetime partner puts me at ease. Everything you said about my ideal partner is so accurate. It’s like you’re in my brain. I like people who are very open and believe in constant communication to get to know each other better and to make sure that everyone’s feelings are being displayed/heard. I like that he be someone that’s always changing. I think that’s important for growth and can help me grow as well. I also like them being intuitive. It’s good that the person will not fear much, because I constantly fear so much. Which makes it hard for me to make decisions because I fear change and making the wrong choice. I think it’s sweet that this person would possibly help with my dreams. But since I’m so indecisive I don’t even know if I have dreams or goals. I’ll remember to take your advice and chose Devine love and not rush for instant gratification. Also learning how to be masculine and feminine. I feel like people always say the wives have to be serving and submissive because mean aren’t attracted to the opposite. So I worry about not being feminine enough especially because I come from a family dynamic where my mom was the masculine leader of the house. So, I don’t know if I’d naturally mimic that. But at the same time I fear being solely masculine because I seen how my mom having to be the only leader in her relationship has stressed her out and put her in survival mode. She’s hyper independent, and constantly complains about wising that someone could save her instead of her having to save others. But she doesn’t even allow help. So, I definitely need to learn have to have balance, and we both in the relationship are both in equal measure. I’ll remember to show mutual respect and to communicate my feelings and worries. So I won’t grow resentful. Thank you so much !!! You’re so good at this, and are extremely knowledgeable. You’ve taught me so much today. I’m so grateful❤️. Thank you for you time. I look forward to experiencing all of your gifts/talents that your bring to this tumblr community. Congratulations again on your milestone. I know so many more followers are to come. I’m happy to be apart of your asteroid family😊.

of course! we are here learning together; i am glad that i could help you with your specific case during this game!! i do hear you; a lot of the matrix information is in russian - so accessibility is tricky for sure! lmao would you believe this isn't the first time someone has said i am in their head while reading their matrix?? i understand what you mean regarding the fem/masc scenario - my core number is 6, so i have to deal with healthy balance too. i was raised by a single mom so i understand what the model of an independent / strong-will woman does to societal expectations that women should be submissive and meek. i have come to understand that woman can do anything and don't need to rely on men, but no woman is an island - humans were meant to interact with one another. it's okay to need help or want someone to hold your hand as you walk through life together. i have faith you will come to figure out what works best for your 6 too! you're welcome! thank you for helping me celebrate 2k and for being here!

a.d. <3

want a personal astrology reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

want a personal tarot reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

2 notes · View notes

chutkiandchotte · 9 months

Text

The Alia/Ranbir Conversation

To begin with, I need to eye roll several times about how this entire issue has snowballed based on pure speculation. I personally believe this type of speculation is harmful - no matter what the truth is. I get that a few people are coming from a place of concern and good faith, but the majority seem to be participating in this discussion in a completely tactless and insensitive way, with no care that THESE ARE REAL PEOPLE not fictional characters, first of all, and secondly, the issue at hand is abuse which requires a certain amount of sensitivity to discuss. Even if you don't give two hoots about the trials and tribulations of rich, famous Bollywood stars...you are nevertheless participating in a conversation about abuse. Your thoughts on this topic have a good chance of reaching the ears of people in real life abusive situations; victims, abusers, and others who have the capacity to help. Your words on such topics are not merely words. They have a capacity to do harm or good that directly impacts people.

So keeping that in my mind, I want have a little rant today about why, in all of these conversations about toxic/abusive men in Bollywood and their partners, do we ALWAYS center the women and HER behavior, her flaws, her mistakes, again and again and again? What did SHE do, what is HER problem, WHY does she endure this...a hyper focus on HER character. And over and over again, the refrain of "why didn't she leave?".

There's barely any acknowledgement of the tremendous difficulties women in such relationships have to content with. If you are going to talk about abusive dynamics, then you damn well better talk from a place of information and understanding, not judgement and derision. Yet in the larger public discussions, there is zero empathy. Surviving a toxic relationship, with abusive dynamics, is extremely difficult for reasons that an outsider would not easily be able to understand. Remember, the view from inside out is WAY different from outside in. For example, many of these women now have kids with these toxic men. When kids get involved, they bring with them the weight of desi social conditioning, times ten, to keep a woman in a situation that is against her every personal happiness. It gets incredibly emotionally complicated to navigate. They might have had to weigh the happiness of their family against their own dignity, even safety, at so many different points in their life.

But none of this matters in front of the fact that she is a woman. And therefore MUST have done something to deserve it. ( /s) A popular blame thrown about is that she was "dumb" enough to fall in love with an obviously toxic, potentially abusive guy. So therefore, everything that happened subsequently, is her bed to lie in. A real psychopathic take IMO but really popular too! So, she made a mistake with her choice of husband and love; maybe she was "stupid" in love. But did the punishment fit the crime? A lifetime of heart break, emotional abuse, and tough choices! And all we can do is mock her, apparently. Yeah, not everybody is a perfect victim like we'd like them to be. Not everybody is on the same point in the angelic scale; some are more flawed, or self destructive, than others. That STILL doesn't make them worthy of blame for other people's controlling or abusive actions.

Why did they stay, why did they stay, why did they stay - society loves to scream this as an accusation, but are we ready to hear the real reason? It is a very emotionally loaded question and the answer might just be too devastating to comprehend for the majority of us. "Oh, she never once tried to get out" is lobbied as an insult - how on earth can you know this? What do you know about what they might have tried or not? What stopped them? What their partners might have done to stop them (for the kids custody, to avoid paying alimony etc etc).

That's part of the problem. The sad/pitying/mocking tone of talking about her, the focus on her as if she alone is to blame for all of this? Like this latest conversation about Ralia is all speculation. But even within that murky realm, it seems logical to focus on the flaws and mistakes of the person we all are imagining as the perpetrator, Ranbir. If you're so hell bent on speculation at all, why not speculate about the man, then??? We are always so very concerned with what SHE did wrong, as opposed to what HE did. But the attitude towards him is like OF COURSE he is like that (because boys will be boys), but SHE should have known better. If Ranbir got 25% of the mocking over this controversy that Alia did, maybe next time the next Bollywood asshole will think twice before acting in this way.

And I want to reiterate that it's really not about Ranbir Alia and whatever their relationship is actually like. Unfounded speculation serves no purpose. But for me, the more relevant matter is how this all has highlighted the way we talk about female abuse victims in this country. The derision and the subtle tone of "she deserved it" for her; and for him, unlimited forgiveness and unlimited chances to prove himself a better man.

If we can't give these women empathy - then at least let us not give them blame. If we can't understand them, at least let's not disrespect them.

#bollywood

5 notes · View notes

lucylesdreams · 1 year

Text

TW: CoCSA, voyeurism.

I am trauma dumping a bit here, hope you dont mind.

I must have been 10 when it happened. We are a small community, with few kids. Think we were 10-14 girls in my grade, and 8-10 boys. We had just started showering after gym class, always the last two classes of the week. I always took my bike to school. I was not particularly close to my classmates, nothing bad like bullying just not fitting in. The fact that we are such a small community did not help that, and many of us are related in some way. That did make it harder to fit in, but I also think it is one of the reasons why it did not escalate to more severe bullying and isolation. There were not enough showers for all of us. One had to shower alone. I did not have a bus to catch home, or any need to shower with a bestie like the rest, so it just had to be me showering on my own. Which never bothered me. While I was showering, the rest got dressed and put on make up. The girls in my class were very much into teen culture, make up and the tv-series "Glee", Twilight-books and boys. Maybe that is part of the reason to why I did not fit in.

Anyways, I was in the shower alone. One of the girls was a nasty piece of work, her cousin was too. He also was in our class. I feel no guilt for saying that about those kids, they both are still cruel today, 15 years later. They had planned a "little prank". When I stepped out of the shower, being the only one that was not dressed but for a towel, she opened the door and her cousin came running towards me. I crocheted in a corner, trying to cover myself. Crying, screaming. He did not touch me, but laid on the floor trying to see up under my towel. It felt like a long time. But the other girls finally had enough and pushed him away, and he left. Afterwards I got dressed. The other girls did not want to get into any trouble, and asked me not to tell the teacher or my parents. They did not want their friend to be punished. She said it was his idea, and was just meant to be a prank. And what good would it be to tell on the boy, he always got into trouble anyways. They did not want a teacher to stay with us while we changed and showered. And I was not hurt, so why make a big deal out of it. I did not say anything, I just stopped showering at school. And had nightmares.

I do wonder now how a 10 year old boy knew that looking on a naked girl would humiliate the girl, and how a 10 year old girl knew it was humiliating? When did he learn that? Who did he learn it from? Why did the girl help her cousin violate me? Must have been the same source, church, tv, his older brother, porn, etc. Not to be dramatic, but I still have nightmares of a male person laying on the ground trying to look up at my crotch. Where did I learn that I was so unimportant that I could let it go? Why was I too ashamed to get help? Why did I protect the cousins, that I did not even like? Did I already think of myself as less of a human than him?

Girls need to be protected from boys. Girls deserve a safe space from boys, just as much as women do from men. We need to talk about this more. Protecting girls from their male peers. Do you think girls have it better today than I did 15 years ago? And sadly parents, your boy may already been creeping on girls before you think he is old enough to understand what he is doing. He may already have given a girl nightmares for a lifetime before you have considered giving him "the talk". He may already be a pornsick misogynist before he start middle school. And this is not some stupid prank, or fun kid stuff. Stop trivializing boys sick and nasty behaviors. Protect little girls

#girls are humans #just some stuff i needed to get off my chest #female liberation #tw cocsa #tw voyeurism #just me trauma dumping #hope you don't mind

4 notes · View notes

thebodhiwitch · 7 months

Text

All is Fair in Love because that Shit is WAR.

Hello Witches,

I want to talk to a specific type of person who chooses to give benefit of the doubt, to those who don't deserve it.

I did a reading once, a girl who was certain this guy had no ill will toward her. He was just a nuisance she had under control, as far as she was concerned. Her confidence of his moving on and that he wasn't abusive, went against what I advised. She was evidently anxious about SOMETHING to do with him. So I channeled and sensed that, he was going to do something really shitty to her via social media. I advised her to block him immediately. She laughed. Didnt think it was serious. Months later, she called me saying she should have blocked him. Because he ruined her reputation via social media. He did irreparable damage to her network.

So when you come to me and you project onto ME that I'm wrong because You don't like that I'm right; Will only serve problematic to YOU. You are the one coming for a reading. People have to start having more respect for the messages that come through. Spirit has more to say than just answer Yes or No Love Questions. Sometimes you can ask one thing and spirit has something more valuable to say. So just because you came for a reading about a guy, Spirit might have more to tell you, and cares more about you than the person, you are paying to ask about. I hope you care enough about yourself to keep the reading focused on you. Because those of you who seek soothe sayers, to say what you want, are living a personal hell I wouldn't wish on any enemy.

This brings me to those of you who ask for specific dates and times about when some dude will call. If this guy is a flake, you think spirit is gonna lie for him and be like " He's going to call you at 10PM because he's secretly obsessed with you and knows he treated you wrong!" Like Bitch, go love yourself please. Because this is a BRAND of woman, who may as well have a sign embossed on your forehead that says "DOORMAT".

Now I understand having the desire, for a man to reach out. That is not what makes you a punk in my eyes. What makes you a punk ass doormat, is when the man clearly let you know he wasn't interested, you know he isn't interested, so now you're calling me a psychic, to what? Tune into him, feel his hostility toward you and be like "Ugh, he told you he's not interested" I HATE meditating and engaging with spirit just for me to see that this person in the flesh let your ass down already in multiple ways. Would you rather I lie, and be like - yes, he's gonna call you 5 months 6pm Thursday" so your ass would wait? Like beware that if you're asking dumb questions that don't have an answer, that's your fault for asking dumb questions PERIODT. Refer to my article about How to ask questions.

Get this, by the time an ex calls, its when you're over them. So its often too little too late. If a relationship is ordained to connect again, it will no matter who you get a reading from. Allow relationships to have a life of their own. Stop acting like you're a love hostage, destined or preordained to a chase a man whose rejected you from lifetime to lifetime. The spirits I work with LOVE accountability. SO when you ask questions that revolve around WHAT YOU CAN do, thats going to lead you in a much more positive direction.

When I have a vision that spirit has something to share beyond your questions and it serves as an actual warning, heed it. Listen to it. As I've said, it's coming in to help you. What I've seen are so many women working against themselves, its really sad, that a random psychic has more interest in protecting you than you do for yourself.

Inspired by The Strength Card and The High Priestess.

(Weaver in Alien symbolizing Strength. Deets as the High Priestess, embracing that Strange and Unusual side of herself.)

1 note · View note

michpeach · 2 years

Text

Movie magic

When I was 6 months old, my family moved from Zacatecas, Mexico to Southern California. I was too young to speak any language, but my parents and older sisters all only spoke Spanish.

Considering SoCal is so Latino/Hispanic heavy, it wasn’t a huge problem for them to get around, plus we had family here. But my mom recalls being in parent teacher conferences with my eldest sister’s teachers and her (semi) English-speaking and feeling useless.

“Aquí estaban, hablando de mi hija frente a mí y no podía entender nada,” she said, which translates to, “Here they were, talking about my kid in front of me and I couldn’t understand a thing.”

She was determined to learn the damn language. Film/ TV was a big help.

She watched Mr. Rogers with us, and rewatched 80s films (Top Gun was her favorite) she had seen in Mexico, but hadn’t cared enough to pay attention to their language then. She didn’t think she’d ever live in an English speaking country.

My dad did this, too. Of course, he worked most of the day so he missed out on Mr. Rogers and other kid shows, but we’d watch movies everyday.

I guess I didn’t ever realize how many movies I’ve seen in my lifetime, until I started dating my boyfriend.

“I was busy playing outside,” he says.

Well, I wasn’t. My mom was really protective (still is!) and we lived in an apartment complex in a not-so-great part of town. Sometimes, we’d go to the park or the library. But a lot of the times, we’d watch movies.

Movies were enough.

To this day, I watch a ton of film/TV. It’s my favorite art form. Without it, I don’t know who I’d be.

So what are my favorite films, and why?

5) Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

Directed by Wes Anderson | Written by Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach

"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."

Pretty profound words, for a fox.

This film is one of my favorites for a few reasons. In a very Wes Anderson-esque way, the film is just gorgeous and symmetrical which I find mesmerizing. I've always been curious about claymation and seeing a film like this just peaked my interest.

Aside from this, the story is just flat out great. A fox looking for a rush at the cost of his family and community; how does he fix things? Mr. Fox is a really well developed and dimensional character, with relationships that may seem familiar to some watchers, such as the one he has with his wife and son.

4) Frances Ha (2012)

Directed by Noah Baumbach | Written by Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm not a real person yet."

A love letter to women in their 20s that don't know what they're doing with their lives.

I feel there are more coming of age stories about people in their teens than there are about young adults in their 20s, which is criminal because who really matures enough to truly "come of age" at 15/16/17. I know technically you're an adult at 18, but your brain isn't even fully developed?

This film really reassures me, as a 22-year-old, that it's completely fine to not know what you're doing. It's fine to float through life for a while.

It's part of the journey of life, eventually you'll land somewhere.

3) The Trial of the Chicago 7 (2020)

Directed and written by Aaron Sorkin

"Since this trial began, 4,752 US troops have been killed in Vietnam. And the following are their names"

Is there one right way to revolutionize?

I've never really taken myself as a history buff, but this film makes things fun. It's a story we don't learn about in classrooms.

The story of eight individuals tried in court for starting a riot at the 1968 Democratic National Convention. But was it really them? And did everyone at the defendants table need to be there?

The film itself is a riot. It's quick, but also poses questions about ethics behind badges and benches, which are questions that remain unanswered even today.

2) Little Women (2019)

Directed by Greta Gerwig | Written by Greta Gerwig Sarah Polley

"Life is too short to be angry at one's sisters"

I feel like anyone who has read the novel by Louisa May Alcott can understand what a wonderful and joyous group of girls the March sisters are.

Now mix that with Greta Gerwig's creative hand and some of the most beautiful costumes in the world and you get the 2019 film rendition of this beloved tale.

Aside from the story, the actors were just phenomenal in their delivery. I wouldn't expect less from Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet (whom I'm in love with), Laura Dern, Bob Odenkirk, and the Meryl Streep. Wow! I hadnt even realized how many true stars were in this one. Amazing.

This is another coming of age film for women in their 20s. Sure, it's a different time entirely, but the message is the same. Women will, in their own time, know what's best for them.

1) Big Fish (2003)

Directed by Tim Burton | Written by John August

"I saw my death in that eye, and this isn't how it happens."

"So how does it happen?"

"Surprise ending. Wouldn't want to ruin it for you."

I have only seen my father cry in one movie, and this is it. Could it be the complex relationship between father and son shown on screen resonates with him? Or that is particularly a beautiful film? I've never asked him.

What makes me cry about this movie is that it's a build up to the ultimate ending. You see this man, slightly delusional, living his life through stories and you soon realize that perhaps its not an unfortunate way to live. It could be quite fulfilling.

I don't think I've ever seen another movie about wild imagination past adolescence, but it's a wonderful thing.

0 notes

yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

492 notes · View notes

ajappendix · 2 years

Text

Amanda Jane interviews Miah Marlow and Miss Moonstar

Miah Marlow introduces her Tumblr blog with a list that immediately reveals her to be multi-talented. “Gender-fluid, Digital Artist, Writer, Musician, Professional Organizer, Philosopher, Activist, Model, Humorist.“ Her partner, in every respect, he calls Miss Moonstar. It is my pleasant task to interview this special and interesting couple whom many people know from social media.

Amanda

Our past has much to do with our present so let's begin by delving into the past, before you met. Despite the wondrous childhood images our culture likes to promote, many do not have an enviable start in life to carry forward into adulthood. My first question to both of you is:-

”What circumstances, experiences and events of your early years do you feel greatly influenced the person that you are now?"

Miah

My Mother left when I was 3 years old. Two years later my Father remarried a woman who, with his assistance, tormented and abused my young life for the next 13 years. My early years are marked by insecurity, fear, shame, and pain. We were incredibly sheltered, and I had very little contact with my extended family for many years. One of my deepest memories is that of missing my Grandparents, whom I knew loved me very much. Sometimes, I even dreamt I was at their house, and when I awoke to find it not true, I would cry uncontrollably at the reality until I puked.

The most influential memory of my life happened the night my Dad drove me to the store at the end of the road. I was 7 years old. He pulled the car over and said "You'll always be special to me, but from now on SHE has to be first. If not she'll leave us. You will call her Mom." It was the day my Dad lost his spine, and I lost my Dad. I hate to start so negatively, but this is the truth. When I was old enough for them to leave me home alone, around 11 or 12, I began to create the earliest incarnations of what would become my gender fluidity. There is no question that being ruled by a strong, evil woman, and a weak spineless man, led me to be confused about where to find role models. So, I went deep into my own mind and made my own special place, and accompanying version of myself, galaxies apart from the me I showed the world. It would be a lifetime before I would reconcile the two.

Miss Moonstar

Growing up as the youngest and the only girl in a home with all males and no mother or female role model was confusing and difficult but, it was also a lesson in strength and intelligence. I was already "different" than all of the other little girls around, with my dark complexion and my "strange" features. Add in being raised in a home full of only males and no mother, and that was a recipe for the perfect weirdo. I had a great father, who back then, was the wisest and most resilient person. He taught me to find solace and knowledge in the the earth, the water, the sun, the moon, and the nonhuman creatures. And books. So those were my friends, my teachers, and my counsellors for most of my young life. Making human friends as a young person proved to be almost impossible because in a small, conservative, 99.99% white, Christian town where ANY outsider is unwelcome; the mothers of the little girls don't trust a strange darker girl who does not have a "good god fearing mother to tame the savage out of her" (I actually heard things like that growing up), not to mention I literally had B cups at age 9, and that is a heavy accelerant for ignorant, insecure, small town women .....So I think as I matured into a young adult, these things helped mold me into being as disarming as possible because I just wanted women to see me, to like me, to understand that I'm one of them. These things probably played a role in me being insecure with my body image for most of my adult life, as well. The same experiences also taught me to be stoic, to never stop educating myself, to embrace my intelligence, to understand my power, and to never wield them for wicked reasons. To remember that no living creature is more valuable than another. And to recognize the internal beauty in the rare and unique people that the earth puts in my life.

Amanda

Both sad and at the same time beautiful answers. I think it has taken a long time for the social sciences to recognize the significant impact of our childhood years on what we become as adults, especially the first four years of our “formative years” (birth to 8yrs).

Miah, “At what age did you realize that you were different from those around you, and begin to question where you fitted in the narrow binary gender view of the time.”

Miah

I mentioned that I began dressing feminine in secret around age 11. Up until 16, I was certain I was unique in this behaviour, and I certainly thought I was doing something wrong. I had no idea there were others like me, until finally, one day my mind was opened to a whole different world. Remember, this was 1991. There were no smart phones and being "online" was not quite universal. So, as a 16 year old wanting, no, needing porn, I had to turn to the medium of the time, magazines. Club Magazine to be exact, because it had penetration pics. I only had one copy stashed away in a secret spot, and since many of its pages were stuck together, I often found myself gooning to the back pages, where the 1-900 numbers were advertised, along with ads for other interesting publications and VHS tapes. This is where I saw what my immature mind could only describe as a chick...with a dick! She was tall, and skinny, with tiny, if there-at-all boobs, long brown hair, and a boyish yet beautiful face, advertising something called “Shemale BDSM”. I immediately fell into the fantasy of wondering about her, imagining how she came to be, and ultimately, being her. From that day forward, I never stopped imagining myself as a feminine thing, destined to someday flourish as I wanted. This was the moment I realized that boys could be girls, and maybe I was one of them.

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, a slightly different question to you. “Growing up in a male environment and shunned as 'different' by the mothers of girls with whom you could have been friends, did you ever question your gender or did you always firmly feel that you were female?”

Miss Moonstar

For a long time, I didn't understand that the reason that I was "different" was because of my ethnicity and my over developed young body. I thought that it was because I was some form of weird boy. It's a strange explanation but, I was in a home with only boys, I did all the same things that boys did, I played with boys, I wore my brothers' "hand me down" boys clothes, I liked the same things as boys liked so therefore, I must be a boy. The day that I truly started to understand that I might not be exactly the same as my brothers and father was when, my dad walked by the bathroom and I was in there going pee, with the door open; my dad asked me what I was doing and I told him I was peeing. He asked me why I was standing up, over the toilet. I just always assumed that was how you went pee. That was how my brothers and my father did it, so why wouldn't I? My dad took me for a long walk that day, explaining to me the physical biological differences between boys and girls, as well as many other things. After that day, I kind of started to rediscover my body, feeling and knowing that I had something different than all of the boys and in my mind, that made me special. I was still very young and had much more to learn and understand about my sex and gender but, the pivotal events of that day subsequently began my journey to embrace my "femaleness" and my femininity. I still have many "masculine" personality traits but, I know that I was absolutely meant to be a woman and, even though womanhood can have it's negative and sometimes scary moments, I would not trade it for anything.

Amanda

A question for you both. “What kind of life were you leading just before you met? How did you meet? What attracted you to the other? Was the start of your relationship one of slow growth or was it quite sudden?”

Miah

I was beginning a new life when I met Miss Moonstar. Two years prior, I got divorced. I had lived with my then wife and her two children for 6 years. When I look back on it, I think it was my last ditch attempt at having a "normal" life and shutting out the girl inside who had caused me so much trouble. I struggled with the sexless relationship, but found personal growth in the raising of two boys. I never wanted kids of my own, but I got to teach them decency, and logic, and compassion, and I got to coach baseball. Sadly, I secretly found my feminine time through it all, until I could go no further. When I lost a job, she kicked me out. We tried to remain friends for the sake of the kids, and I finally told her my secret.

I had been doing some serious soul searching the past year since being kicked out. I was getting tired of hiding and lying, so I made the decision to come out in my city. My relationships were suffering, especially the one I had with my Grandpa, as he never could never quite understand me, because I was never honest. I had to set myself free. So, I told him, and my boss, and my few friends, and my ex step kids, and began my transition from secret crossdresser to gender-fluid girl. It was a whirlwind of a time, all culminating in an epic night out at a local bar, where I would make my hometown debut. I had some new friends who would accompany me, and one of them was a young lady who you have come to know as Miss Moonstar.

I could write for a year straight and still not address the scope of Miss Moonstar's arrival in my life. I was literally done with relationships. I planned to be a bachelor forever, taking lovers and being a sex Goddess until I died, when my friend Dawn introduced us. What I remember from that moment is often a blur, but I do remember a very specific feeling that overtook my body as she and I spoke. Nostalgia. Even though we had never met before, I knew this person. She was one of my kind. In fact, the last time I felt this way upon meeting a woman was my college days when girls and guys weren't all that different, just young humans with big dreams. One of us would say something and our eyes would meet and we would laugh in our minds together. On day one! My attraction was instant. My knowledge of her felt reliable and certain. Yes, she was beautiful, yes, she was sexy, yes, she was charming, but it was her softness and intelligence that ultimately won my heart, as no one had ever used such a gentle hand with me, or a thoughtful approach, ever. Still, to this day, her soft love and understanding is unrivalled in my life, and one of the main reasons I'll try to keep her around forever.

I think we were dying to jump into an intensely heated affair, however, do to my gender fluidity and her metered approach, we took our time and tried to go slow. Soon enough, however, we were inseparable and have been ever since.

Miss Moonstar

About 2 years prior to meeting Miah=Jer, I had suffered a miscarriage at around 21 weeks. I cannot accurately articulate the feeling of that loss. To lose someone that I had loved so much but, that I would never be able to meet, was one of the most profound tragedies of my existence. While I was unconscious, the nurses contacted my romantic long term partner/father of my child, as standard procedure but also, so that I would not be alone when I came out of the anesthesia. When I awoke, the nurses gently informed me that my partner would not be coming. Since I could no longer be a vessel for his child, I was no longer a viable partner. I was a failure in every definition of the word. I spent the next almost 2 years grieving, searching for answers in every pocket of the world, and rebuilding myself. I had come to the conclusion that I deserved to love myself and that the only people who deserved to be in my life, were the people who encouraged and supported me loving myself. I also had decided that I was not going to have relationship partners ever again. Male and female lovers but, no relationships. Before I would embark on being the world's greatest womanizer and seductress though, I was introduced to Miah=Jer, through my friend Dawn. This person was physically the most beautiful human that I had ever seen, on both ends of the masculine/feminine spectrum and everything in between. However, when I sat down and started to talk to this person, I felt like I was finally home. I had always wondered what the feeling of "coming home" was. I never felt like I had ever been "home". Not with my family, not in the place that I grew up, not in any state or city that I had lived in, not around any humans. But this person, this strange feeling that was both foreign and more familiar than anything I had ever felt, this was exactly where I was supposed to be. We started our conversation that night and for the next almost four years, haven't stopped. The attraction was cerebral for me. Of course he has endless physically attractive traits but, I love Miah's intellect the most. I love that Miah is much more intelligent than me, I love that there is no topic that is off limits, I love his constant quest for knowledge, her never ending thirst for learning. And his patient, gentle approach to all of my crazy idiosyncrasies. I also have a dark, twisted, sick sense of humour and Miah is the only person that I've ever met that can go toe-to-toe with me on that. Because we both were in a place in our lives where we refused to keep hiding our true selves and, couldn't continue to pretend that we weren't total freak shows, we both needed to build a safe space for each other, so as much as the feeling of "home" was sudden, we slowly nurtured and grew our relationship. As ridiculous and cliche as it may sound, Miah=Jer is my soul's recognition of it's counterpart. Miah=Jer is the love of my life and I will love him for as long as she allows me to, but I will start with forever.

Amanda

What wonderful answers both of you have given. So powerful, so touching. What an irony that two people, both sworn to lead single lives, should meet and almost immediately know they had just met their soulmate. It is a rare and special story, well worth telling. So many yearn to meet the “right” partner and have not. Let’s hope such readers will be encouraged by your stories.

Now that we are up to the present, it is time for a standard question for you both. “What age are you now, where do you live and what do you do to make a living.”

Miah

I'm from Ithaca, NY, I'm 46, and I have a unique arrangement from which I obtain resources. I've been demonized by some family members for this lifestyle, but I wanted to be honest with you all. Coming out as genderfluid hurt my career path a bit. If you think poorly of me after reading this, well, fuck off.

I care for and work for my Grandpa. I manage his life and his business. He's 89, and he requires assistance in almost every area of his life. Some of that is personal care and daily needs like food, various appointments, his finances, and his medical needs. But, it also entails acting as property manager for his apartment building, and rental agent when an apartment becomes available or a tenant has needs. I also maintain the property physically and do the building maintenance. I do this because I'd be dead without my Grandpa, and he was abandoned by his immediate family when his wife, my Grandma, died. He saved me numerous times in this life, and it is only right I repay his love with love in return. Both Miss Moonstar and I have promised him that we will be here until the very end so that is what we will do. This work I do amounts to anywhere from a demanding part time job to a full time job depending on the week, but we have our own house on the same property, food and necessities, and some of the rent I generate becomes mine. I supplement this by working for another elderly person in town in a similar assistant capacity. This is how I get by. I definitely did not expect to be doing this at 46, but loyalty has its price, and its rewards. It's no secret Miss Moonstar and I will inherit this place when the saddest day of my life comes, and it will help us take care of each other moving forward. I hope some of you will still be here for me then. I probably won't know what to do with my grief.

My career is not over though. Many people do not create their legacy until the second half of their life. I fully intend to pursue my dreams as long as I'm alive. I'll probably find my way back to a non profit agency where I can use my law degree for some good, and I definitely plan to add 'published author" to the list of things I've done. Heck, I could still get a record deal. Crazier shit has happened.

Miss Moonstar

I'm 39 years old. I now live in Ithaca, New York. For a good chunk of years I was a pastry chef, before and after I graduated culinary school. I earned my associate degree in social sciences with the intention of pursuing my B.Soc.Sc in sociology but, the culinary dream had already sunk its teeth in me. After graduating culinary school in New Orleans, I stayed there and continued my career as a pastry chef. I spent some time doing that in various other cities and states until I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. At that juncture, I knew that I needed to make some serious life changes so, I did. I attained my B.Soc.Sc in sociology, and entered the world of social work. I finally found where I belonged when, a nonprofit that I connected with on a deeply personal level contacted me, offering me a position as a victim advocate for survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. It has been one of the most humbling, heart wrenching, and necessary experiences that I have ever had.

Amanda

What a talented and qualified couple you are. I cannot see why, Miah, anyone should think less of you. To put your own life on hold to assist your Grandfather shows that you are a person with moral and ethical values. Yes, there are advantages for you too, but for my own part, I applaud you for what you are doing. Miss Moonstar, from indirect experience I know something of the emotional strength and determination that it takes to be a counsellor to people experiencing heart wrenching situations. I know too how difficult it can be to find a balance of compassion and professional distance that does not burn you out of this invaluable but difficult counselling practice. I also know that arthritis is no fun at all and that you often have to deal with pain. You both deserve medals.

Miah, I know you have written about this several times on your blog, but for this interview “Please clarify what “gender-fluid” means to you and why you feel that the various terms crossdresser, trans, sissy etc do not correctly describe who you are?”

Miah

As the years have passed, my definition of my gender has changed yet I still use the same word, gender-fluid. I suppose this is simply because it's the most accessible word available, even though many people still don't know what it is. I'm gender-fluid in the literal sense, meaning my gender is fluid. While many people find themselves leaning feminine or masculine or in between, I am all over the spectrum depending on my mood or desire. Often times, this manifests as either the "girl" or "guy" me, which is sickeningly binary to me, but it is what it is. At least I can move on the spectrum as I wish. I think of gender as different from biological sex or sexuality. I still view myself as male, and my sexuality really has no bearing on my gender, or vice versa.

The other words you mentioned either aren't strong enough to define me, or undermine me entirely. For example, the word crossdresser is a weak action descriptor. It merely says that one crossdresses, similar to how biker indicates one rides bikes. The word sissy adds a sexual element that is not always present in my regular behaviour, and also indicates that I might be submissive, embarrassed by what I am, or negatively influenced by the internet. None of these are true. Finally, transgender can never be the word for me because I do not claim womanhood. I think that is the essence of being trans, that one is the alternate sex from their birth body. I am simply not a woman, and one hundred percent biologically male. I claim femininity as a skillset and part of my gender, hence my reliance on the term gender-fluid.

Amanda

Personally, I appreciate the nuance of the term gender-fluid as you describe it. The words gender and sexuality are not synonyms. I generally refer to myself as a cross dresser but I agree that all that term really implies is that I cross dress.

Miss Moonstar, many women would balk at living with and loving a partner who presents as a male one day and as a female the next. “Can you describe how you feel about this and, by doing so, help other women to appreciate the possibility of doing likewise?”

Miss Moonstar

First and foremost, I love Miah=Jer's gender fluidity and all of the different characteristics that it entails. Regardless of what end of the gender spectrum she presents as, he has the same heart, the same mind, the same emotions, the same voice, the same body, everyday. This was never something that I "needed to wrap my head around" or do any deep soul searching about when I Miah=Jer. Yes, I first met him when she was en femme but, the very next day we met for coffee and she was en masc. The familiar cerebral conversation, the relaxed nature, and the attraction did not change with the gender accoutrements.

Being with a man who knows that he is a man who, also knows that he has many genders is the most liberating and refreshing feeling that I have ever experienced. I've always been a pansexual woman, constantly seeking out something that everyone I knew told me did not exist. But it did exist, it DOES exist. Having a male partner who not only loves femininity and all of the different tangible and intangible layers but, who understands it, enjoys it, and LIVES it, is something that I will never take for granted.

I know that some people want me to say that during the beginning of our relationship, I was worried about; whether Miah would be "masculine" and "manly" enough for me, what people would think of me when they saw us together in public, if my friends/colleagues/family would approve of our relationship, how our sex would work, what do I say to people who question me about Jer and/or our relationship. The truth is this, in the same order that I listed the "thoughts": I did not consider her manliness or masculinity. His gender is fluid, her masculinity is always there, just as his femininity is. As far as his manliness goes, he is a man, he identifies as a man and when he needs or wants that manliness to be at the forefront, it is and, I don't get to decide either of those. No one has the right to decide his gender except Miah=Jer. I fell in love with her BECAUSE of her gender fluidity, NOT IN SPITE of her gender fluidity. I have never cared what people think when they see us together in public. If someone that I care about doesn't approve of our relationship, that's their problem, not mine. If you can't be seen in public with us, then you don't need to be seen by me, at all. I don't have time for that shit. If someone genuinely inquires about Jer or our relationship then of course, I explain what gender-fluid means, who Jer truly is inside, who I am, the beautiful love that we have, and why I'm the luckiest person in the world. And as far as our sex, I think everyone wonders what the sex will be like when they first enter in a relationship, regardless of the dynamic. I wasn't worried about Jer not desiring me, not because I'm arrogant, it was just pretty obvious that he desired me and my body as much as I desired him and his body. I don't need to go too in depth but, for the first time in my life, I feel sexually liberated with Jer. There is no judgment, no pressure, no weird expectations. We agreed from the beginning that sex is meant to be a joyful experience and, we encourage each other to free ourselves of our sexual insecurities. And he's a real hellcat in the sack 😉.

In light of all this that I said, the key to success to my relationship with Miah=Jer has been honesty from the very beginning. Honest with each other about who we are and what we want and, honest with our own selves. To the women who are considering entering into a relationship with a gender nonconforming male, I can try to offer some gentle advice; don't judge the person's sexuality based on their gender, they are two different things. Don't secretly try to devise some kind of plan to convince the person to mollify or allay their femininity. That's just shitty. Think about it, you would be asking a person to tear out a piece of the fabric of who they are. If I asked Miah=Jer to diminish his femininity, it would be the same as him asking me to whitewash the half of me that is indigenous. You can't simply "accept" that part of them as if it is some negative trait that you can "deal with" but, as long as they keep it to themselves. You embrace and you love the whole person or you stop wasting both of your time and you move on. It may sound harsh but, it's just the way it has to be. That person is sharing a part of themselves with you that they have had to hide and feel societal shame about for longer than you can begin to fathom. Just like you, they want to be loved completely, they want to be seen, and they want to shed the layers of secrets and stigmatization and degradation that our society has forced them into. Gender is such an innocent thing and yet, the world has bulldozed and browbeaten male humans into feeling that embracing their feminine gender is an errant and nefarious act. So, the last thing they need is you giving them a false sense of security by allowing them to finally open up to you, telling them you welcome them and approve of them and then, turning around and invalidating and undermining their existence.

Just be real with them, be real with yourself. Fuck society's bullshit narratives and judgments. If you think you will lose family and friends simply because you're in love with a gender nonconforming person, then you don't really have those family and friends to begin with. Anyone who abandons a person, who they purport to love unconditionally, entirely based on that person's partner's gender, doesn't actually unconditionally love that person.

What Miah and I have is something beautiful and special and I really am the luckiest girl in the world, however cliche that truth may sound. It is not something that other people could easily attain or maintain and I understand that. But, it is possible for anyone who really wants it and who is willing to nourish and cherish and grow it.

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, I really do hope that those who read your answer will take your statements and advice to heart. No, loving only part of a person is not unconditional, nor is it truly sustainable.

Your blog describes you both walking, shopping and visiting places together (you have addressed the matter of public reaction in your blog at times). So, “Would you both tell us about your negative and positive experiences of typical public reaction to you as a couple, and how you felt about it both at the time and in general?”

Miah

The public reaction to us as a couple is entirely different from the public reaction to me when I appear alone. MM is a bulletproof vest for me. When we are together, we are rarely bothered by anyone. We have had a couple belligerent people try to invade our space, and gotten some strange looks from a passerby, but generally speaking, I don't think people dare approach us. Sometimes, I wish more people would come up and talk to us. I miss people. The protection, which MM exudes but doesn't purposefully project, can sometimes insulate me from the world. I am certain my presence does the same to her. However, I stray from the point. I think most of the public likes to see us, at least in our liberal city. Occasionally, someone is a little too excited to see us. For example, the other day a guy parked his truck backwards in a turnabout so he could watch us take pics at a park bench. He just brazenly gawked at us until we moved spots. When I drove by him, he smiled and waved to us. At this point, it is what it is. We may never be the couple who can come and go unnoticed, but for the most part, we both enjoy the thrill and we do our best to laugh at ourselves and remember we do what we do for joy. Haters are always gonna hate but you gotta get to the point where you don't register that. I think we are almost there.

Miss Moonstar

For the most part, the public reaction seems to be positive, or at the very least, NOT negative. There have been a couple of times that I had to get gulley and let some redneck, hillbilly, TERF bitches know that I would bring the ruckus. They thought they were going to prevent Miah from using the bathroom. Miah is always so dignified and pleasant and shy so, she was trying to walk away and avoid making a scene. Normally, I would be the same way but, I completely lose my shit when someone fucks with Miah, especially women like that. They think she won't defend herself because she is a gender-fluid man and they are "women". So, I get a little crazy, say something totally inappropriate, threaten to bang their husbands, and they end up backing off......Other than those assholes, the public treats us pretty well. Men can get a little intense in their appreciation for us but, we take it in stride. Most women love us too. Miah has a commanding presence and most people respect her, even if they aren't sure of the dynamic. I think most times, people see her and then see me and wonder why she isn't with someone equally as amazing and beautiful as her. I wonder that too. Regardless, I feel lucky as hell to have her and to be treated so kindly by most strangers.

Amanda

It is so interesting to hear that you are treated differently as individuals than when people see you as a couple. It surprises me that you have not had many unpleasant experiences. That says a lot for the progress of acceptance of those who are gender non conforming.

This is a cheeky question you can answer together, but from your blog you sound like a fairly sexually active couple when so many couples seem to complain about their partner and not having enough sex. It is not easy to define 'sex' or quantify it, so for this question consider it to include any sexual activity engaged in as a couple. I can give you a choice of two typical questionnaire questions. "Together rate your level of activity on a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being inactive and 5 being very active." Or, to be more empirical, "How many times a month do you engage in sexual activity together?"

Miah and Miss Moonstar

I'd say we have sex anywhere from 4 to 9 times a month. As with any couple, life will steal days from us occasionally. Someone may not feel well, we may be too busy, or and unforeseen event will stop us from coming together, but we never have an issue reinvigorating each other. The sexual space we have created is one of absolute non-judgmental joy seeking. It is one of the most free spaces we have ever entered. We are open about what turns us on, we have no insecurities about any aspects of our bodies or our sexual skills. We exhibit whatever feelings we may feel across the gender spectrum without fear. You can imagine that makes for a really fun experience where we can let go and just enjoy. We understand that sexuality is not static, so we try our best to facilitate each other's dreams and fantasies and it has been more than wonderful. We don't believe couples who say they screw every day. It's not about quantity, it's about quality and ultimately, having fun.

Miah. I’ll add that a day never goes by where Miss Moonstar doesn't grab my ass and tell me how sexy I am, even though she's the real Goddess. I'm a very lucky guy.

Amanda

In the light of what I hear on social media, I think you are both very fortunate to have each other as sexual partners.

Another question. ”With separate answers, how do you feel and how do you react when your partner is the object of coarse or crude comments and offers of sex online or in real time?”

Miah

I get more of this online, while Miss gets more real life propositions. I think we handle this quite well, considering the crude way in which people show their love. It is, however, occasionally a mine field to navigate. I've made a point of making it grossly clear that I am taken, and in love, and not missing any lustiness in my life. I am also wildly flirtatious so I try not to lead people on. Over time, I've developed a kind of rule I follow when dealing with sex fuelled online friends. It's a one chance rule. I always forgive the first crudely worded or dick pic included message. I thank the person for their interest in me. I understand that people find me attractive and sometimes can't help themselves. I believe in the decency in people. So, I implore them to reconsider approaching me a different way, so we may be able to be friends. Often times, even someone who began with a dick pic will turn back into the good person inside once they realize I am much more than a sex object. Besides, being my decent friend online is the best and only way to get my reciprocal flirtation and the occasional salacious ass shot in your inbox.

As for Miss, and the guys who come on to her: I do nothing. She's beautiful and sexy and I fully expect people to approach her. I also trust her to handle it, which she always does. I never feel insecure or mad that she gets love, or attention. I'm flattered, actually. Everyone needs attention and I'm glad she gets it. If anyone really crossed the line, I'd kick their ass. I'm still a 6 foot tall man. Come get some.

Miss Moonstar

This is an awesome question and I probably should be ashamed of my answer, but I'm not. I could lie and pretend to be dignified but, I won't. The truth is, I love it when Miah is the object of people's sexual fantasies or desires. How could I not love it? I have my own dark twisted fantasies in which Miah is the main attraction. The difference is, I get to act out my fantasies with Miah, as others do not. Well, except for the occasional weekend when I need to make some extra money so, I turn her into a Red Roof Inn glory hole queen.......I'm joking, I do not pimp out the love of my life......I love that Jer has many admirers and fans. The only time that I am bothered is when he is bothered by it. If he truly feels uncomfortable or disrespected, then I try to comfort him and give him advice on how to proceed.......Miah gets a great deal of online (as well as some in real life, that seek her out online) admirers and mostly, we just laugh at the ridiculous things that people say because it is highly entertaining.

Amanda

I think the strength of a relationship is shown by enjoying the fact that one’s partner receives attention. It shows trust and confidence. But, yes, if that line is crossed……Watch out! Some of the things that anonymous admirers suggest they would do to us would test the skills of an acrobat, but they are certainly amusing.

Before we move off the subject of Sex, I note that you have been asked before about your interest in the Chastity fetish. “Being largely ignorant about what motivates people to wear cages and be submissive to another person, would both of you like to comment on this subject for me?”

Miah

Since I have written extensively about chastity, I'll keep it brief. A chastity cage is a sexy novelty item to me. It's jewelry for my dick. It's a naughty game we play occasionally but it's not what you think. I'm not submissive unless I decide to be for a period of time. I don't hate my cock, nor has it become useless because of occasionally being caged. But, we are an open minded couple and the cage necessarily changes the sexual dynamic when it's being used. When it's on, I utilize a more feminine based sexuality and we enjoy that space until it comes off. Mostly though, I like to wear it us an accoutrement that helps minimize my bulge with certain clothing and makes me feel dreamily sexual all day long. So, yes, we enjoy chastity but I'm not a cuckold or a subbie, nor is Miss Moonstar a true Dominant. We are just an adventurous couple with a wonderfully safe sexual space.

Miss Moonstar

My interest in putting Miah's dick in a cage and exerting dominance over him can pretty much be summed up with one word, followed by an overstatement of facts. That word is REPARATIONS.....Miah=Jer is white and I'm indigenous (biracial). Ya'll motherfuckers caged my people onto reservations and stole my land, so now, I get to steal your anal cavities and cage your dicks. Lock up your husbands and grandfathers ladies, I'm coming to cage their dicks and blow out their holes!!!.....too soon?.....too far?.... You're welcome.

Amanda

I somehow didn’t think you two were into dominance and submissiveness in any serious way. I get it now. Using a cage as another part of a repertoire of sexual experiences together makes absolute sense. Miss Moonstar, you have a wicked sense of humour, though with a tinge of understandable strong feeling. I envisage a myriad of white guys clutching their privates, tightening their anal sphincters and hoping not to be found in their hiding places. Retribution indeed.

Of all your talents, Miah, music stands out as appearing to be the most important, so let’s address that topic. My question to you is “What motivates you to express yourself in music and how long have you been composing? Is there a connection between your music and your sexuality?”

Miah

Music is my God, and my drug addiction. Seriously, music has helped me through the parts of life another person cannot. Music has soothed me, inspired me, healed me, and guided me all my life. I can't explain my connection to it other than to say it's otherworldly. When I was 18, my first roommate in college had an old acoustic and taught me the chords necessary to play “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd. I've never been able to afford lessons so I just downloaded and printed tablature of my favourite songs until I learned to strum and properly form chords. I remember having the tablature for the entire OK Computer album and learning all those songs and the weird chords Johnny Greenwood used in that album. Eventually, I realized I also needed to learn to sing. In the same manner, I just hacked away until I figured out how to use my voice. It's taken years. I probably wrote my first songs in 1998. I played in a band in college where we played the songs I wrote, rudimentary as they were. Then, life happened and I stopped playing music for a decade at least. When I met Danie, all my passion for life returned and so did all my demons and fears, and those are what I write about. The trials and tribulations of an emotionally dense life. Mood music for the soul, if you will.

You asked if my music was connected to my sexuality. Of course it is. Everything I do comes from my dicks' brain, in pursuance of the honey hole. I'm a man, after all.

Amanda

Miah, that you taught yourself is really interesting. What an achievement. Yes, as a guy having two brains, it is always a struggle to know which one is motivating and making decisions on one’s behalf.

Miss Moonstar, my question to you is “I am sure you are supportive of Miah’s musical talent, so would you like to comment on this area of life with Miah?”

Miss Moonstar

Yes, I love Miah's music, I really truly do....music is pretty much the sole reason that I did not become a homicidal maniac many many years ago. Without music to be my therapist every single day, I think they might have opened Alcatraz back up to incarcerate me for the heinous atrocities that I would have committed. I have known many different types of musicians throughout my life and many of them were either, just trying to make as much noise as possible without making much sense or, they were too interested in "acting" like a musician but never actually BEING a musician. I still always tried to find something true and positive about their art to encourage them. I love all kinds of music from Jackson Browne to Tupac to Nirvana to Buddy Guy to Stevie Nicks to Alicia Keys to Ani DiFranco and everything in between and outside of those artists, including and especially Greygh0st (Miah=Jer). I am completely tone deaf and I'm partially deaf in my left ear but, I fucking know great music when I hear it. That is me exhibiting my arrogant and narcissistic side and, I apologize for that. I've done that quite often in these questions and for that, I'm truly sorry. I can't sing or play an instrument or keep a beat but, I know when something is special, musically. My body hears it before my ears do....I don't love Miah's music simply because I love Miah. I have loved people before and could not love their music because, well, they sounded like Gary Busey hate fucking Rudy Giuliani while they both had third degree explosive diarrhea (you're welcome for that imagery, by the way). I love Miah's music because it soothes me, inspires me, humbles me, etc., because it makes me feel all of the emotions that music should evoke. Every song evokes a different emotion. And, like emotions, some of Miah's songs are easier to handle than others but, they are all valid and beautiful and important. I was so relieved when I knew that he wrote and made great music. I was also relieved when I realized that he wasn't interested in pretending to "act" like a rock star. He is interested in making music. He just truly loves his art. I love and am honoured to be able to witness and be part of his creative process. Creative processes can be difficult at times for various reasons. When Miah writes these songs, the lyrics are many times, from his own experiences, and from my own personal experiences. He has had to go to these emotional places that he has not visited in a long time, or he has to kind of "temporarily tour" my mind and memories. Those things can be a shock to the system. But, they are also worthy of being inspirational. They happened, we went through those battles, and as I have reminded him many times, we found our way back, and when we did, we found each other so, it's ok to leave it all out on the paper. As in, turning those hard experiences into beautiful songs, is the best kind of redemption and reclamation and the greatest way to honour the people we were and the people we became...I've never asked him to write a song about me, or him, or us. When he comes to me and says that he has an idea for a song, I've encouraged him to write it, regardless of the concept. I have always just kind of said, "trust your instincts babe, trust your own creative and emotional intelligence, you're the musician"....

I guess I'm just trying to say that Miah is one of the best lyricists that I've ever heard and her songs are from all different perspectives and different genres, so you would have to be quite an ignorant, dark hearted, fuck-show to not be able to enjoy at least ONE of them. On top of her profoundly keen and penetrating, intuitive lyrics, comes that magical melodic voice that has calmed the raging, thunderous storm inside of me that has the propensity to leave me lost at sea. A voice that has galvanized me into taking my own power back. A voice that has brought me to my knees, with the realization that someone finally saw me, and still wanted to love me. A voice that is in my head as much as my own voice at times. A voice that is the perfect combination of sweet and savoury and tart. A voice that is impossible not to love. So yeah, I'm her biggest fan. He calls me his muse, but I just feel lucky that I get a front row seat to this magnanimous, multi faceted, beautiful soul.....plus I get to bang the singer, backstage after the show.

Amanda

Well, Miah, I knew music was important to you, but I see now just how much so. Miss Moonstar, what a powerful answer. I suspect that all amateur musicians would just love to have the support and motivation that you give to Miah.

Interviews do get lengthy and I would love to go on exploring further, but it is time to draw this to a close. My last question is not likely to be an easy one to answer, the topic requiring you to look ahead, act as a futurist and predict the possible outcomes of vitally important but contentious issues in our society. I word the question a little differently for each of you.

Miah, the attitudes and social mores of our culture seem to be gradually changing towards greater acceptance of the LGBTQ community, but much reluctance and hostility remains among the more conservative elements of our society. Both clerical and political elements are themselves conflicting on the matter, yet both camps exert much influence on the unfolding processes of acceptance and rejection. My question is "Given the sharp division between those whose thinking is "left" or "right", the assault on democracy and the preoccupation with more urgent issues such as climate change, mass migrations, and the threat of further pandemics and nuclear hostilities, what do you see for the near future of the slow trend for acceptance of the LBGTQ community and how do you feel it may affect you personally"?

Miah

I think it's important to look at the bigger picture but, when one looks from too far away, the problem can seem unsolvable and immense. The truth is, the world will never be a safe or fair place for any one type of person. Those are social ideals. The question we must ask is: are there enough quality spaces for us? Is the number of those spaces growing, and are the spaces themselves expanding? I think the current moment in time is one of growth, not suppression, as indicated by the many changing opinions about gender and race that have been seen in the past couple decades. That said, times of growth are always times of danger for the growing. We have to be strong and vigilant, while simultaneously rising above the fray. You want change? You have to be a part of it, even if it will only affect the future world. And, anyone can be a part of it by simply joining the discourse. My only prediction is that we will continue to struggle for a while, until the bullies are exposed as our biggest fans, or better, the very things they fear. Even the binary minded live in a spectrumized world, they just don't know it yet. (Yeah, I just made up a word.)

On a smaller scale, I'd say the current definitions of sex, gender and sexuality have been muddled into a variety of all encompassing words meant to be identification markers but effectively amount to political and social positions. This is helping to create the divisive arguments ensnaring non binary movements around the world. We have given up trying to explain ourselves, and we defend that with a sense of entitlement that is, sadly, defining this recent generation of freedom fighters. One of the worst things a knowledgeable person can do to an ignorant one is to hide the truth. In order to be understood, one must first admit core truths, and in this world of counter spin, that is increasingly becoming harder. Every story now conveniently has another side. I think this is the main problem with social constructs like gender and race. We've given them such meaning, they now mean too much. To some they mean everything. I think it's time to dial that back and stop attaching such importance to the individual self. If I've learned one lesson in life it is that selfishness is the fastest path to ending up alone. My advice: learn to share. Your world will immediately be a better place. And, if you can't or won't explain yourself, don't expect to be understood.

As for me personally, I just keep getting up and living the new day. I don't give a shit what people think about me much anymore because there is just not enough time in the day. All I really have to do is live life until it's gone, and treat others right while I'm here. Just like the world issues you mentioned, I have always been a polarizing character and this has always surprised me. I know myself to be good, loyal, honest and just. I've never quite understood my detractors other than to chalk them up to what could be described as a intrinsic jealousy of my free swinging gender and sexuality, or anger at my inability to label myself as trans or gay or some other binary. Otherwise, I'm not sure how a person could hate my gentle soul. After all, like Bryan Adams said, "Everything I do, I do it for you." Including my music, so if you love me, please follow my YouTube and listen!!!

PS Thank you all for taking the time and thank you Amanda, for the opportunity to share and for all the hard work you did preparing and executing this project. You are truly a shining light in this Tumblr world and I love you, girl.

Amanda

Miss Moonstar, you strike me as a woman who has strong opinions on many issues, and is prepared to be vocal about them. My question to you is similar to that which I have asked Miah but of a different focus. The question is "Given the ......what do you, as a female and a member of an ethnic minority, see for the near future of the "human rights movement", particularly those relating to ethnic and gender equality in our still male dominated society, and how do you feel it may affect you personally?"

Miss Moonstar

I think that the last four years shattered what little integrity the United States had left, in regards to the human rights movement. I am not blaming one person. I am blaming an ideal that brought people out of the woodwork to defend it. I think that it is going to take some time for us to bounce back from that. And ultimately, while there are more people now than ever who support equality and are fighting everyday for it, America never has been an equitable place for minorities of any race, gender, sexuality or otherwise. I don’t know when or why we tried to convince ourselves that this country was a haven of sanctuary. This is not a home for the free and this land was stolen from the brave so, I think that if we just admit these things to ourselves, we can begin to move forward.

Pretending that this country treats everyone equally is a mistake, and the federal government is the biggest gaslighter of that flame. The first thing that needs to happen is; all of us people who are fighting for equality and rights need to stick together. We need to stop dividing ourselves. I can guarantee that the same people who think that there is no such thing as systemic racism or police brutality against Black people are the same people who think that everyone has a right to use American Indians as they see fit, that they are owned by everyone. Using “Indianness” for nationalist pride, for advertising strategies, as a Halloween costume, a sports team, for spirituality and self help advancement, etc. But when the Indigenous people try to explain how hurtful and dehumanizing it is to have their entire ethnicity mocked, these entitled people say that Indians are being too sensitive. They are good enough to be used in every possible way but not valid enough to have sovereignty or equality, or dignity.

And THOSE particular people who think that about Black people and Indigenous people definitely do not have any regard for the gender movement. They do not have any regard for anything that is not straight, white, and christian. So, instead of the LGBTQIA+ people on one side, the Black people on another side, the Indigenous people on another, the women’s rights movement on another side, other POC over on another side, instead of that menagerie of messiness and embarrassment, how about ALL of us on the SAME side? We need to stop shitting on each other, we need to stop acting like it is acceptable to hold someone else down in order to prop ourselves up. I see a lot of gender nonconforming white people who turn a blind, deafening silent eye in regards to POC. I hear people deny the truths of systemic racism and police brutality against Black/Brown people and, in the same breath, talk about how hard it is for Indiegnous people on reservations. Admitting how much Native Americans have been fucked over is cool but, admitting that Black people have been fucked over is a hard limit? Give me a goddamn break with that bullshit.

We all need to create a safe space for each other, we need to stop pretending that fighting each other is going to change ANYTHING. Fighting the establishment that wants us to fight each other is what we should be doing. Holding the guilty accountable, not staying silent. Too many people “don’t want to get involved”, because they think that staying “neutral” is peaceful and proactive. I have news for those people, 1.) you are already involved 2.) neutrality is no longer an option, not in these regards 3.) if you can stand by and watch a Black person be mistreated by the police, or see the huge number of Indigenous women who are missing or murdered, or watch women lose reproductive rights, or watch LGBTQIA+ people fall through the cracks and lose their entire livelihood in order to gain a fraction of efficacy...if you can stand by and see all that shit (and more) happen, and then look me in the eyes and tell me that you support all of those people but, you have to remain neutral; then you are NOT neutral. You made a choice, you are just too much of a coward to admit your choice. You are the establishment that we are fighting against and we do not want your superficial, complacent bullshit.

If these things that I have said bother anyone on a deeply personal level, then I strongly urge them to look inward to find out why. I am not a hateful person, I only stand for equality and peace. Sometimes, you have to fight for peace and I prefer fighting with my mind instead of my fists. I have never once used physical violence in my life, but I have seriously considered throwing a bag of shit on Marjorie Taylor Greene’s hideous face. I am at a loss as to how to do that, though. How do I put Marjorie Taylor Greene into a bag and then take that bag of Marjorie Taylor Greene and throw it on Marjorie Taylor Greene? Talk about a fucking paradox.

PS Thank you to those of you who have supported Miah throughout the years. It brings me much warmth to know that she has so many beautiful souls in her corner. You are all some of the most special and unique humans on this earth and I am grateful for all of you. Shine on, you crazy diamonds!!

Amanda

Those are both insightful and powerful answers to a difficult question. Miss Moonstar, your words, in particular, should be shouted from the rooftops.

Well, Miah and Miss Moonstar, interviewing you as a couple has been a most interesting and informative experience and you deserve to be congratulated on having given well thought out and honest answers, many clearly from your hearts.

My hope is that those of us in our community who are willing to read and learn from the experiences of others will enjoy and find strength in reading our interview.

Thank you for opening yourselves up to us so sincerely and freely,

Take care and stay safe,

AmandaJane

#interview

87 notes · View notes

kthynes · 3 years

Text

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

#chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans

231 notes · View notes