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#we have talked about the subject EXTENSIVELY
imperiuswrecked · 1 year
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I've only ever asked 2 former online friends to not contact me after I wanted to go our separate ways due to irreconcilable differences and the first one circumvented my blocks at least 3 or 4 times to talk to me including sending me emails from 2 different email addresses after I refused to speak with them on tumblr/twitter/discord and each time I told them to leave me alone, that took place over a period of weeks.
The second one made a burner account to talk to me after I publicly asked them not to. I'm done talking. I'm done listening. I am allowed to restrict access to my person, my time, my emotions, my own mental health.
People need to respect boundaries others set down.
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presdestigatto · 22 days
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why did i just see someone say charles needs to put less pressure on himself and that the grief he carries affects his performance and why does that have likes i need people to stop speaking on charles if you aren’t familiar w his history
okokok but tho i lied and went back on twt to procrastinate my work can i say one of the funniest things about f1twt is this ferrari updates account which 55s keep trying to cancel because they’re ‘biased towards leclerc’ i love u fanaticsleclerc
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goldensunset · 1 year
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the sibs and i have been having a gossip session about our parents while we’re all in the car together and while i’m also part of the conversation i’m just trying to talk openly and honestly about my feelings and observations without being overly cruel and malicious but my siblings don’t care they’re just trying to be as nasty as possible and i feel like i’m working overtime trying to rein it in and to be fair to our parents and i am socially and spiritually exhausted
#i feel like i’m the only of us kids left that actually genuinely loves our parents#i love my siblings but there’s definitely this clear drift here#they think just because i’ve managed to start unpacking years of a wild and troublesome childhood with them#that that means i must now hate our parents and see them as bad people#like they do#naw man it’s just critical thinking. i can analyze people and my relationship with them extensively#but that doesn’t only mean negative things#i can go over everything that my parents have done to hurt me but at the end of it all they’re my parents and i love them#and i want to talk to them and help them and take care of them etc#i wish my siblings could see things that way#i truly do believe if we all talk to each other and share our own experiences and views on the subject#we can all make each other happier and healthier people#peach rambles#anyway the real thing i’m gonna say here is: i cannot leave this group situation rn#like as in i can’t switch cars and go with my parents at the next stopping point and leave my siblings together#because if i DO then they’re all gonna start smack talking ME#y’know that thing about how you kind of instinctively distrust people who gossip about others#because then you know they’re probably also gossiping about you behind your back since they’re clearly just that kind of person#yeah that’s how i feel about my siblings#also i hate the mentality that says that because i feel this way i clearly didn’t suffer as much as they do#SCREW that i’ve been dealing with the same nonsense my entire life i understand FULLY how they feel i used to feel that way too#i just learned how to cope better and restructure my brain more healthily#with a different philosophical outlook#hate being accused of not understanding what i’m talking about or being told i can’t possibly understand another person’s mind#listen no one will ever fully understand exactly what it’s like to be another person even if they do come from very similar backgrounds#but people like that can absolutely make the claim that they do understand a significant amount about each other#and i have a right to talk like this to my siblings#anyway#this has been a rant about my family dynamic and philosophical beliefs
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lobpoints · 2 years
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Essay on Ayin being selfless but it less about him being altruistic or generous it just about him living on borrowed ideal and doesn't have sense of self
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rebirthgarments · 14 days
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TW: Chemical w-rfare, Ab-rtion
Urgent Ask to evacuate Nara, a 🍉 disabled woman with MS who also has pancreatic cancer due to chemical w-rfare.
Support by financially contributing to her @FedUp4Palestine vetted funhnd-raizer (that I personally vetted): givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid
+ resharing/ reposting this post!
I, Sky Cubacub- a Fed up 4 Palestine team member, have been in direct contact with Nara to get to know her and her story more over the past few days. We have become fast friends due to so many overlapping symptoms of our disabilities. Nara’s story caught my eye because I have post-viral ME/CFS which many times is a precursor to MS. I really want my disability community to show up for her to get this campaign funded that is so close to my heart so that she can continue medical treatment.
We have chatted extensively! During our chats, I found out from Nara that she had not previously had health issues until she was exposed in the white phosphorus attack in 2008. The long lasting damage and effects of phosphorus continue to compound and become more and more disabling to this day, even after 16 years.
Here is her story in her own words (edited for clarity):
“Hi I'm Nara,
I'm a cancer and multiple sclerosis patient. I need treatment, examinations, and follow-up on a regular basis, but the hospitals in which I used to follow up were bombed and the other one was turned into military barracks. All I need now is to leave Gaza for treatment, preserve my life, and live with my family in peace.
We're a family of 4, including my 12 and 7 year old children.
I had been diagnosed with a tumor in the pancreas as a result of inhaling phosphorus in a previous war. A couple years after being exposed to phosphorus, I became pregnant, and the fetus was pressing on the tumor, which drew the doctor’s attention to the cancer. My fetus was emergency aborted, and the spleen, 80% of the pancreas, and part of the small intestine were removed. I complained every now and then of a lot of pain as a result of the removal of part of the pancreas. I was having follow up care in the Turkish Friendship Hospital for hematology and tumors. But since the beginning of October, I have not been able to follow up because the hospital has turned into a military barracks.
The remaining part is talking about multiple sclerosis:
In 2018, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I had many complications, such as inflammation of the seventh nerve in the eye, the inability to walk with balance, movement with difficulty, and many symptoms. I was then required to take 12 injections every month and many medications and vitamins. I was following up at the Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Yunis, but unfortunately the hospital was out of service due to the war. So for a long time I have not received any injections. MS is truly difficult and it controls my life completely, and the attacks occur in many and varied ways.”
A note about her breathing apparatus:
Because people in displacement have to wait in long queues and pay to use the bathroom, Nara had started to restrict her water intake because of a UTI she never has been able to heal from. This has created a problem with raised levels of potassium, so doctors have placed her on oxygen for fear of the potassium affecting her heart.
Goals
she needs at least $15,000 to evacuate
2 adults at $5,000 each
2 children at $2,500 each
this price is subject to increase due to the cost of registration for evacuation continuing to go up
The other money will go to the cost of treatment and living costs.
Nara chooses to stay anonymous because she has had to mask her disabilities so much that only her family knows about her MS and Cancer, so we have not linked her instagram, but we are in direct contact with her and can verify that she is who she says she is! Because of this, she cannot promote her own fundraiser, so it is our job to collectively do it for her!
[Image Description: a digital illustration by @k8deciccio of Nara, a Pal-eh-stienian woman wearing a black hijab/outfit with purple highlights. She has a breathing apparatus that is bulbous that goes in her nose. Text Reads: Help Narawith Cancer and MS Treatment, She Must Evacuate with her family of 4. $30k goal givebutter.com/NaraMedicalAid . There is a QR code in the bottom right corner that goes to her support link. The @FedUp4Palestine logo is in the top left corner.]
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empyrangel · 1 year
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This is random but I absolutely hate how people assume that having something as a special interest (or hyperfixation) means that you have extensive in-depth knowledge about it. Especially since it’s mostly neurotypical people guilty of this (though I’ve seen plenty of nd do it as well.) We’ve been told an annoying amount of times that “you don’t actually have a special interest in x, you hardly know anything about it” by people who have a lot of background in the subject. Like no where in any description of a special interest does it say it makes you an expert in the subject. Some people only fixate on the idea or aesthetic of their special interest. Some only on a surface level knowledge of it. Some people just simply aren’t compelled to dig deeper. I’ve never had the urge to look much into learning more about most of my spins, and when I’ve forced myself to I end up bored and don’t pay attention to whatever I’m researching.
I just need people to understand that having a spin doesn’t require substantial knowledge in the area to be valid. We just want to casually talk about what we already know and maybe learn little tidbits from others without being told “educate yourself” or that we’re invalid.
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Everything we know about Project Apple (and, by extension, Anya's past) thus far
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thought i'd compile all of that now while endo's on break Just In Case the next chapter happens to start anya's backstory (i don't Think it will but endo likes surprising us LSDFKLFS)
important disclaimer that project apple and the organization in charge of anya's experiments have not been confirmed to be related! there's evidence that they have things in common, in particular employees, but that's our only real connection between the two thus far. still! worth looking into
more under the cut!
so, starting very strongly with the very first mention of anything related to the project: anya's introduction in chapter 1
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despite her being a main character, we know very little about her past at the moment, and this little blurb at the beginning makes up a very big portion of what we know.
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things to note here:
as an experiment, her name was "Test Subject 007". important to note that the notation differs between her and bond: she was Test Subject 007, bond was Subject 8, no zeroes in there;
she had been made thus by accident, the phrasing itself implying quite heavily that she was just a normal child before said accident (but this is the translation! i don't know japanese so i can't cross-reference with the raws to clarify if the phrasing changes anything, but the fanbook uses the word "gained" to describe her powers too);
because her mind-reading is an unintended consequence, that means the scientists were presumably not, at least initially, trying to achieve cognitive enhancements in humans, and were instead trying to achieve something else, whatever that might've been;
she escaped from the facility and then moved from institution to institution, looking for a family.
so, crucially, through this little introduction we learn that there is an organization, government-funded or otherwise, that is or was conducting human experiments for unknown purposes. we also learn that whatever family anya had prior to being involved in the experiments is more than likely unreachable, at least as far as she knows, and so she has settled for finding a new family to take care of her instead.
in terms of the facility itself, here we see they clearly drilled it into her that she can't ever reveal her secret (and the darn plush is there too -- in the anime it's even more emphasized, as you can see in the gif i made)
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through her reminiscing though, we get our very first look at the scientists that were in charge of her! they're in the gif above but here they are in the manga too. it's so interesting that the anime actually shows their eyes behind the glasses though, fascinating choice.
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the insistence on world peace is important, as it explains her own personal obsession with it and shows that it's not just because of twilight's own focus on preserving the peace. i also don't think twilight ever really talks about "world peace," only about "preserving the current peace between westalis and ostania" -- anya seems to be the only one talking about WORLD peace (even in the very first scene where either of them mention it in proximity to each other in ch 1, loid says "understanding the other party is the first step towards peace" and anya's interpretation is "understanding me makes world peace?") but take this with a grain of salt because i might be wrong! going through every single mention of peace in the story just to fact check this one little trivia fact is a bit much i think so i'm not doing it JSDFKLSD
but yes
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remember mr hair strand and baldy, we'll see them again. not her though, ig she wasn't in charge of bond
now, fast-forwarding to chapter 19, we finally get a name and a premise for the experiments:
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"but oana," you might say, "this is talking about animals only! how do we know it's the same project as anya's, which involved human experimentation?"
i don't think it is, is the thing! i think it's related to the experiments anya was a part of, which is evidenced by the same scientists being featured in project apple too, but there's more going on that we don't know about. there wouldn't be such adamancy on keeping the two separate in every official mention of them if they were just the same thing, imo!
back to the evidence, we learn that the project, conducted and funded by the previous ostanian regime (meaning donovan's related to it one way or another, since he was prime minister), was marked by franticness and desperation -- a prime place for accidents like anya's telepathy and bond's future vision.
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we also learn that the project was sacked by the new administration and that the former test subjects ended up on the black market.
(this makes it very important, imo, to learn when anya escaped the facility vs. when the project was sacked. it's clearly no longer in function, but while we've heard nothing from them thus far, i'm willing to bet the shady dealings around the desmond group are NOT related to the war, as W.I.S.E. has been led to believe, but rather to reignite project apple. that is speculation however so i'm going to refrain from theorising much on why the desmond group is focused on acquiring pharmaceutical companies!!)
ok speculation tangent over, back on track
so, that's already a decent amount of info! but moving to chapter 22, when bond is finally home, and we finally see some familiar faces
behold! baldy and mr hair strand!
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and 2 other guys we don't know but will see again in another bond flashback!
that's 2 out of the 3 scientists we've seen thus far from anya's own time as subject 007, confirming that there IS a connection between anya and bond's experiments, regardless of whatever the project anya was a part of might've been named.
this is also the chapter in which we learn that bond himself was subject 8 (or, if we take it from the fanbook, subject #8. still, diff notation from anya!)
in chapter 31, we learn an interesting tiny piece of trivia. we don't get any further info on it, but it IS mentioned as something that is known by W.I.S.E.:
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ostania is rumoured to have done human experimentation! and W.I.S.E., and by extension loid, are aware of that.
do i know how them knowing may be important later? not really!
the next droplet of info we get is in chapter 40. we see that project apple had collaborators that are still functioning unhindered.
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of course, born industries is only rumoured to have been involved with project apple, but regardless of whether or not they actually were, the rumour itself implies that the project likely pulled scientists from various other companies' R&D departments.
(this makes the desmond group's acquisition of glooman pharmaceuticals shadier, but anyway)
as a side note, twilight is emoting so much at just his wrong assumption that bond is seeking revenge against the scientists. imagine how he's going to react when he finds out about anya JKSDFKLFSD
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and now aaaaall the way in chapter 58, we see the bald guy who anya also knows, the two scientists from bond's previous flashback, and one whole new guy!
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and thus ends our current knowledge of it all!
the only other thing worth discussing is anya's knowledge of classical language
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but plenty people have already discussed these scenes, especially recently, so here are some links: 1 | 2 | 3
the only thing i can add is that i'm fairly certain that classical language is a lot more likely to be latin than old english, because it's a very common language to learn in school (in europe at least, and ostania is based on east germany so it makes sense to me. i learned mandatory latin in school for a few good years too, even if i wasn't that good at it lol) and because one of the most common modern usages of latin are in medicine and science, it would make sense that she'd be better at it due to exposure.
a possibility is also that the scientists would think in latin to conceal their thoughts from her, and that's how she ended up learning so much. she's not fluent in latin, she's just well acquainted and that cicumstance would explain the how.
BUT THAT'S SPECULATIONNN
also i don't think "ANIA" is an acronym, nor do i think anya's been misspelling her own name out of lack of knowledge. "ania" is a polish diminutive of anna and an alternate transcription of Аня, so i think it's far more likely that anya isn't ostanian or westalian than it is that her name comes from an acronym.
now,
TL;DR!
what we know about project apple (and the "mysterious organization"):
project apple was funded and conducted by what appears to have been donovan's regime and, from what W.I.S.E. knows, aimed to create highly intelligent animals for military purposes;
W.I.S.E. is aware that ostania is at the very least rumoured to have dabbled in human experimentation;
the project is presumably no longer on-going, though it is likely there are efforts behind the scenes to revive it;
it is rumoured but not confirmed that project apple had collaborating companies that are still functioning perfectly fine;
the same scientists who were in charge of bond were also in charge of anya, signalling that there is a very significant connection between project apple and the "mysterious organization;"
based on what they were telling anya, they were/are very focused on "world peace";
their experimentation methods include but likely aren't limited to electrocution.
and what we (vaguely) know about anya that relates to this:
she is at the youngest, 4 years old, and at the oldest, 5 nearing 6. we don't know her real age, all we know is she definitely lied about being 6;
she is very fixated on specifically world peace while twilight is focused on peace between ostania and westalis. the scientists are the very first we see talking about this, so it's likely their fault;
she is unreasonably well acquainted with classical language;
she has escaped the facility at LEAST 1 year ago;
and, one tidbit from the fanbook (page 29): "Anya has been reading minds for as long as she can remember," implying that her memory of a life before the lab is muddy at best and absent at worst.
that's all we know that i know of!!
if you got this far, thank you for reading :D hope any of this was interesting or sparked any theories >:] have a good day!
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gwynfish · 2 years
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studying for exams right now and I wish I'd die on the spot instead
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 4 months
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The Danger Zone (Part 15) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 5.6k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Some Body Insecurity (Pregnancy Related); Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You and Jake work on your relationship. Jake is officially promoted to Lieutenant Commander
Series Master List
Master List
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After you moved back into your apartment with Jake, the two of you spent the next week focusing on your relationship.
While the two of you weren't strangers, there was still plenty of relationship moments that you had skipped over before and after you got pregnant. And now was the time to figure all of that out before the baby came.
You talked about the past. Jake explained the steps that he took after he left home to protect himself and now, by extension, you and your daughter. He had already been to see lawyers in the past about protecting his assets and what money was legally his and what money was legally his parents' money.
You told him more stories about your parents and about how their lives impacted how you viewed raising your own child. About the safeguards that you wanted in place to protect either one of you. And to especially protect your child. Jake updated his will to ensure that everything he had went you and the baby. And you were in the process of updating your own when one slightly contentious subject popped up.
Who would be entrusted with your child if something happened to both of you.
It was a subject that you brought up initially, playing off your own fears from your own childhood. Jake echoed your concerns and shared your desire to have it all down in writing.
But the question remained: who were you going to ask?
“You want it to be your brother?” Jake guessed, resting his arms on his thighs.
“And you want it to be Javy?” you returned softly.
You stared over at Jake from the couch. Your arm was lazily draped over your bump as you lounged around in Jake’s shirt and a pair of your boy shorts.
“I would feel more comfortable with Javy, yeah, but this isn’t just about me.”
“Or me,” you agreed, sitting up. “We have to pick someone that we both agree on.” You leaned back and rested your hands on your bump, looking at Jake through your eyelashes. “Why do you want Javy and Nat?”
“Javy’s the only person—besides you and the baby—that I consider to be my family. And I trust both of them with my life. And I'd trust our child with them too.” Jake paused for a moment before asking, “Why do you want your brother?”
“Well, he’s the last biological family that I have left. And Emma and I are really close. And I know that they want to have their own family one day. Bradley can tell the baby stories from our childhoods and our parents.” You shared a look with Jake before continuing, “And I trust Javy and Nat with my life too, but I’m worried that with both of them being in the Navy and neither of them expressing an interest in leaving it or having kids, that our baby wouldn’t fit into their lives.”
Jake didn’t disagree with any of your points, but it didn’t change how he really felt about your preference. Even though he and Bradley had a chat after your and Jake’s fight where Bradley apologized to him, they weren���t best friends. There was still distrust on both sides, and Jake was worried that if the baby went to Bradley and Emma, then he'd be written out of the storyline.
And he knew that Javy and Nat would never do that to you.
“But I know that you and Bradley don’t have the best relationship,” you replied softly, careful with your words. “And I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice in this decision. This is your baby too and we need to agree on a couple.”
“I don’t feel that I don't have a choice,” Jake assured you, causing you to nod. “It’s just . . . there’s some thinking to do.”
“We don’t have to decide today,” you stated, slowly getting to your feet. Resting a hand on your back, you walked over to Jake, who automatically placed his hand on the curve of your bump. “I think that I’m going to shower and get dressed for lunch. I feel all gross and sweaty after this morning.”
“Do you need help?”
“If you want, but no funny business,” you warned him.
You bumped him on the nose with the tip of your finger, causing Jake to grin, remembering the last shower that you took together.
“Yes, ma’am.”
~~~~~
“You know that I can still drive, right?” you reminded Jake as he drove to Penny's house.
“I know, but I like driving you around. It makes me feel like I’m doing something for the two of you,” Jake replied, making you swoon a bit. “And besides, you have more space over there.”
"Alright," you agreed as Jake threaded his fingers through your own. "But after your promotion ceremony, I can drive home so that you can actually enjoy it."
"We'll see how it goes," Jake replied as you neared Penny's house.
Jake parked on the street and the two of you walked together around the house. It was the first family event since your and Jake's fight and you were hoping that it went well. At least, better than the last few had gone. Giving Jake's hand a squeeze, you called out to your family, who were seated around the lawn furniture.
“There they are,” Penny stated, standing up from her seat and moving to greet the two of you. “How’re you feeling?”
“Sweaty,” you joked, accepting Penny’s hug. “Thanks for having us.”
“Don’t even start with that. You know that you’re always welcome here. You too, Jake,” Penny stated, offering him a quick hug too. She took the plate of sweets that you baked before ushering you over. “Come and sit. Dinner’s almost done.”
You and Jake took your seats on the couch beside Emma, who greeted you both with a kind smile. While the two of you chatted about your weeks, Maverick walked over to you and Jake.
"How's the little birdie?" Maverick asked, referring to your child.
"Getting more active," you replied, accepted Maverick's hug and the bottle of water with a thankful smile.
"And you ready for your promotion, Jake?" Maverick questioned, handing him a beer.
"I guess," Jake replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not really much else to do except show up at this point."
"Yeah, I always found that the week after always ended up being more stressful than the week before it. Because then it all sinks in," Maverick stated, taking a sip of his beer and raising an eyebrow when he caught your look. "What?"
Bradley called out that all of the grilled items were done, and everyone got up to make their plates. The six of you ate in relative peace. There was still some tension there. Bradley and Jake were actively avoiding each other, but it was better than glaring at each other, so you would take it. As Emma told you about a wedding invite that she received from someone that you knew from college, Amelia came running down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” Penny asked, standing up from her seat.
“My driving instructor cancelled,” Amelia stated, causing Penny to sigh and lower her head. “I’m not going to pass my test, Mom!”
“Amelia, you’ll be fine.”
“You won’t even let me drive to the bar, Mom,” Amelia replied, staring her mother down. “And I don’t think Rooster’s going to come driving with me again.”
“If you give me time to drink four more beers—”
“—Bradley,” Emma admonished, nudging her husband in the side. “She’s learning.”
“She hit the mailbox. Three, actually.”
“And you won’t let Mav teach me,” Amelia reminded her mother, folding her arms over her chest.
“For a reason,” Penny stated firmly.
“Mav taught me how to drive when I was her age,” you spoke up, reaching for your water. "And I turned out fine. I'm sure that she'll be perfectly safe with him, Penny."
“I can teach her,” Jake offered as soon as you finished talking, causing everyone to turn to him. He added, “But only if that’s okay with you, Penny.”
“Yeah, my test is in three weeks,” Amelia agreed, turning to her mom. “I need to practice.”
“Alright, fine,” Penny consented after a few moments of thought. “But no speeding. And don’t hit anything this time. Please.”
“Thanks for offering to teach her how to drive,” you told Jake, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“No, I felt like I should,” he replied, squeezing your knee before getting up from his seat.
“Like you . . .?” you trailed off, running through the last few seconds of the conversation in your head. “Jake?”
“Hmm?” he asked, turning around after Amelia handed him the keys.
“Are you calling me a bad driver?” you asked him, frowning when you saw how his expression changed at your question. Now offended, you pressed, “Jake?”
“You did hit the garage,” Bradley reminded you, taking a long sip of his beer.
“Shut up, Bradley,” you told your brother before turning back to your boyfriend, who was quickly walking away from you with Amelia in tow. “Jake Seresin!”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the waves!” Jake called back, motioning to his ears as he and Amelia walked around the corner of the house. “I love you!”
Huffing, you sat back in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and pouted a bit. Rooster snickered to himself, earning a sharp look from you.
“Yeah, laugh it up, you big chicken. You stole the neighbor’s Playboy magazines and let Mav take the fall for it.”
And that got him to shut up.
“So, you guys are using the ‘l’ word with each other now?” Emma asked you, causing your frustration to leave your system.
“Yeah, we are,” you replied softly, a bit bashfully.
“So, everything’s patched up?” Maverick asked with an edge of parental concern.
"We're working through everything together," you stated, rubbing your bump with your thumbs. "And we've been doing a lot of planning for the future together. Wills, joint checking accounts, loan applications."
"All good steps," Penny told you with a supportive smile.
"So, you guys are looking at houses now?" Emma questioned, causing you to smile and nod.
"I'm hoping to get one in your neighborhood. So that our kids can go to school together," you admitted, causing Emma to beam. "But we'll see what we can find."
"We'll keep an eye out for any signs in our neighborhood."
"Thanks."
"So, you guys are buying a house together and doing all of these other things together," Rooster trailed off, sharing a look with his wife before asking, "Are you guys getting married then?"
"We've talked about it," you admitted quietly, glancing over at Penny and Maverick.
"And?"
"And when it happens, it happens," you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. "I mean, I'm due relatively soon. We'd have no time to plan anything. I'd look like a whale in all of the photos. And Jake could still get deployed without a lot of notice . . ." you trailed off, glancing down. "So, we'll just wait and see."
~~~~~
“Gently,” Jake told Amelia as she pulled into an empty parking lot. “You’re not a NASCAR driver.”
“Says the man who flies around in a fighter jet all day,” Amelia scoffed, driving into the parking lot. “Can we try backing into a spot? I really need to practice that.”
“Yeah, go over there.”
Amelia drove into the corner of the lot and stopped a bit suddenly, causing Jake to grunt as his seatbelt locked to prevent his head from slamming into the dashboard. Rubbing his chest where the seatbelt tightened, Jake turned to Amelia, who winced.
“I know, I know, easy,” Amelia sighed, slumping in her seat. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just straighten out and drive down the row like you’re going actually to park.”
Amelia followed Jake’s instructions and eventually slowed to a stop. Looking over his shoulder, Jake pointed at the parking spot that he wanted her to aim for. Walking her through the process of backing up, Jake guided Amelia through the maneuver, taking the steering wheel from her for a moment.
After Jake walked her through it again and she pulled out of her spot, Amelia tried to do it herself. But when she finished crooked, Amelia let out a groan of frustration.
“It’s alright. Just straighten out and try it again,” Jake coached her. “You just need to pull the wheel less before you move.”
Amelia pulled out of the spot and tried to back in again. Jake helped her straighten out the wheel properly as she moved into another parking spot. The second try was straighter, though there was still room for improvement. And by the sixth try, Amelia backed into the spot on her own. Once she put the car in park, both Jake and Amelia opened their doors to check the lines.
“See? You just needed a little practice,” Jake replied, closing his door.
“Thanks,” Amelia returned, shutting her own door. “Especially because I know that you’re just doing this to impress her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you don’t,” Amelia replied, glancing over at Jake. “You know, you’re a lot better than my mom at this stuff.”
“I’m used to staying calm,” Jake stated, turning to Amelia. “And besides, your mom does a hell of a lot more than I could ever do. She's allowed one weakness.” He paused for a moment before turning back to the lot. “Who’s been teaching you how to drive?”
“Just my driving instructor, really. Mom doesn’t trust Mav to do it because she’s worried that he’ll teach me to speed.” Amelia turned back to Jake and asked, “Do you really think that your girlfriend is that bad of a driver?”
“No, not at all.”
“If I promise to not tell her?” Amelia rephrased.
“I’ll be driving our family every chance that I can,” Jake stated, causing Amelia to laugh. “But you said that Bradley went driving with you once?”
"Yeah."
"It was that bad?"
“He freaked out and only lasted about ten minutes.”
“That doesn’t shock me,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “About him, not you.”
“My mom thought that I gave him a heart attack.”
“He gave himself a heart attack over nothing, I’m sure,” Jake replied, turning back to Amelia. “Besides, you don’t even have your license yet. You have plenty of time to learn and improve.”
“Thanks. You too.” When Jake turned to Amelia with a questioning look, she explained, “For when you teach your own kid how to drive.”
“Oh,” Jake replied quietly. “Thanks.” Controlling his own emotions, Jake cleared his throat and pointed at the space in front of him. “You should probably learn how to parallel park too if you’re going to pass your driver’s test.”
~~~~~
“I’m just worried that I’m going to look ridiculous,” you sighed to Penny and Sarah, glancing at the racks of clothes in the store.
It was only a few days before Jake's promotion ceremony, and you still didn't have anything to wear to it. So, you enlisted the help of Penny and Sarah Kazansky to find a dress for the occasion. But so far, it was not going well.
“You’ll be fine. And no one’s going to think that,” Sarah Kazansky assured you from another rack.
“Will I? Have you noticed that more than half of the maternity dresses look like they just used the fabric that no one else wanted to wear?” you sighed, showing Sarah a dress from the rack that proved your point. "This print is giving me a headache."
“Here, try this one,” she offered, handing you a plain blue one.
With some help from Penny and Sarah, you collected a few dresses before walking back into the changing rooms. You tried on one that you picked and immediately cringed at your reflection.
“How’s it going?” Penny called through the door.
“Oh, great,” you called back sarcastically.
“Just come out in one. I’m sure that it’s not that bad,” Penny tried to convince you.
Stepping out of the changing room, you shot Penny a look as she tried to hide her expression behind her hand. Sarah, however, noticeably winced. You sighed, turned on your heel, and walked back into the changing room. After you went through all of the dresses that you picked, the three of you headed to another store.
“Jake will love you in anything,” Sarah encouraged you, as you started to look disheartened.
“He has to,” you sighed, inspecting another dress. “He’s the reason why I’m fat.”
“Here, what about this one?” Penny suggested, holding out another dress to you.
“It doesn’t look half bad,” you agreed, studying it.
“Go try it on.”
You walked into a changing room and pulled on the dress. Letting the zipper in the back hang open, you stepped out to show Penny and Sarah. Penny got up and zipped up the back of the dress for you before the three of you looked it over.
The fabric was soft and stretchy and not too heavy. It accentuated your bump and breasts without making either look too big. And with Sarah’s approving look, you knew that it would be appropriate for the promotion ceremony.
“I think we found it.”
You paid for the dress and then Sarah and Penny insisted on taking you out for a meal. Sarah asked all kinds of questions about the baby and your pregnancy and you, in turn, had some questions for her.
"What did you get Ice for his promotions? I haven't been able to come up with anything good to get Jake yet.”
“When he became a captain, I got him a nice watch. When he became an admiral, I got him a new desk for his office." Sarah reached for her drink with a small smirk. "And when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, I gave him a baby nine months later.”
“Aunt Sarah!” you groaned, sticking your tongue out.
"Well, you're already working on that one," Penny teased, causing you to hold a hand to your face. "You could always get him something related to the baby."
"But is that really a good gift for his promotion?"
"You know, one time for Ice's birthday, I took a few portraits with the kids so that he could take the photos of them with him if he got deployed or sent to conferences.”
“Jake did love the ultrasound photos,” you replied, mostly to yourself. Thinking it over, you smiled and turned back to Sarah and Penny. “I’ll think of something.”
~~~~~
“So, what exactly did you need my help with?” Javy asked as he and Jake drove into San Diego.
“I need your advice.”
“Thank you for narrowing it down.”
“I need your help with picking out a ring,” Jake stated, causing the sarcastic smile on Javy’s face to fall.
“A ring ring?”
“Yeah, a ring.”
“No, Jake. A ring ring? You’re going to buy the ring?” Javy repeated, turning to face Jake, who kept his gaze on the road. “You’re going to ask her to marry you?”
“That’s the plan,” Jake agreed, pulling into a parking lot. “But I need a ring first to do that.”
“You’re serious?” Javy asked, causing Jake to shoot him a look.
“Of course, I’m serious, Javy.”
"What made you suddenly decide to take my advice?"
"I had a lot of time to think while we were fighting and she wasn't there with me," Jake began, turning off his truck. Turning to Javy after a pause, he added, "And every dream where we were separated, of her looking at me like she did during our fight . . . I couldn't fucking bear it, Javy." Jake looked down at his hands for a moment. "She and our baby deserve the world, and this is just another step in me giving them that. I want to call her my wife and fucking hell I want her to call me her husband."
“I get it,” Javy replied with a proud smile. "You're finally growing up, Jake. I knew it would happen one day."
"Yeah, yeah," Jake scoffed, pushing Javy's hand off of him. "Now, come on. I still got to pick one."
Jake and Javy got out of his truck and made their way down to the jewelry store. Standing in front of the display case with all of the engagement rings, Jake tried to not get overwhelmed with all of the choices. It almost felt like a test. Would he pick one that you would wear and cherish for the rest of your life? Or would he just look like an idiot kneeling there?
"What's your budget?" Javy started off with.
"We're having a baby in three months," Jake reminded Javy, staring down at the rings. "And we're trying to buy a house."
"Should we go to Walmart then?" Jake shot Javy a look, clearly anxious, causing Javy to chuckle and turn back to the display case. "Don't shit your pants over it. We'll find the perfect one."
"I remember telling you that," Jake mumbled, studying more of the rings below him.
"Turn around is fair play," Javy joked, picking up a card that showed off the different cuts and sizes. "Here, does this give you any sort of idea of what to get?"
"This is her mom's ring," Jake replied, showing Javy a picture of it. "She held onto it until Rooster proposed to Emma with it and I think she still has that in her head."
"You're just going to get a replica then?"
“No, but something similar, I guess. We're not her parents, but I know that she holds onto their story. And she's already cried to me about them not being here and I just want to make her happy and feel like they're still apart of this whole thing."
"You need to save these little speeches for your proposal. Stop wasting them on me," Javy stated, though it made Jake smile to himself. "Alright, those ones are similar over there."
"Can I help you gentlemen with anything?" an employee asked as he walked over to them.
"He's buying an engagement ring," Javy explained, causing the employee to nod.
Jake pointed out a few that looked good to him and inspected them closely as the attendant listed off their details. Moving onto the third ring that he selected, Jake paused, admiring it.
It was a simple three stone ring on a silver band. The middle stone was fairly bigger than the surrounding stones, which gave the ring an intricate appearance. It was similar enough to your mother’s ring, but it was distinctly its own ring too.
And Jake quietly favored the three stone rings, since you were going to be a family of three shortly. It just felt symbolic.
God, he was turning into a sap.
"She'll love it, Jake," Javy replied supportively, staring down at the ring too. “And you already got her pregnant anyways, so she'll probably agree right away.”
"Thanks, Javy," Jake returned, rolling his eyes before handing the ring over to the attendant.
~~~~~
After some research and asking around, you decided to reach out to a local photographer to put together a gift for Jake’s promotion. You never really saw yourself as the type to get a maternity shoot done, but Jake loved the photos from your ultrasound so much that you felt like it just made sense.
Ringing the doorbell and waiting a bit nervously, you smiled when the photographer came walking over to the door. She unlocked it and let you inside, offering you a kind smile.
“Hi, I’m April. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she greeted you, shaking your hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” You followed her back into her studio, your nerves building a little bit. "I've never done anything like this before."
“Not a problem at all. I'll walk you through the process."
April gave you a brief rundown of her equipment and how the photoshoot would go. You already sent her some references and April told you that you would work off of those and see what direction that the photoshoot would take.
“So, you’re doing these for your boyfriend?” April asked as she fixed the lighting.
“Yeah, he just got a big promotion at work, and this was sort of my best idea of what to get him,” you explained, setting down your bag.
"He's a pilot, right?"
"He's a naval aviator," you agreed, looking around the studio.
"I can see the appeal," April mused, hopping down from the ladder and walking over to her camera. "Alright, let's start with that long dress then."
You posed a bit awkwardly for a time but as you and April talked more about your baby and your relationship with Jake and she put on some soothing music, you grew more confident and comfortable with the photoshoot.
"Do you know if you're having a girl or boy?" April asked, straightening up.
"Not yet no. We wanted to wait. Or, I wanted to wait, I guess. I don't think he cared."
"Do you have a preference?" April questioned, lining up another shot.
"Well, I'd be happy either way. I just want the baby to be happy and healthy. But I have a suspicion that we're having a boy."
"Does he want a boy too?"
"No, he wants a girl. Of course, he'll be so happy with a little boy, but I just know he's picturing a little girl." Smiling to yourself as you looked down at your bump, you heard the sound of April's camera going off. "She would have him wrapped around her finger the second that he sees her. That's the thing about men in that kind of industry. They're all tough and macho and then they have a little girl, and then they turn into puddles like that."
April took another photo of you as you talked about your child and Jake before walking over to show you the results. As she slid through them, she smiled at your reaction.
"The best photos are usually the ones that you don't know are being taken," April replied, stepping back. "Did you want to do some more in the dress, or did you want to change?"
"I think those are perfect. Can we do those black and white photos that I showed you next?"
You pulled on Jake's white button up and a simple pair of black stretchy shorts. Buttoning up the shirt so that your breasts were covered but your bump was completely shown off, you returned to where April was waiting for you.
Repeating a lot of the same poses that you did before in your pink dress, you added some more that really focused on your bump.
"Have they kicked yet?" April asked, taking a close up of your bump.
"No, not yet. But we're counting down the days until it happens. My boyfriend always tries to get them to kick before bed, but he hasn't been successful yet."
"He sounds like he's really excited," April mused, taking another shot.
"He is," you agreed, smiling softly.
April walked over to her prop box and pulled out a toy plane. Walking back over to you, she placed the toy on your bump and with just a little sticky material, it stayed in place for a few shots.
You wrapped up the photoshoot and April uploaded the photos to a flash drive for you to take home. You picked a few photos to get printed in time for Jake's promotion ceremony as you contemplated doing a few more. Especially as you looked over the other references that April pulled out.
"Do you do a lot of these?" you asked April, pointing at one.
The woman in the photo was kneeling on the floor, her bump and a well-placed arm protecting her modesty. You had seen photos like that one before but thought it was too bold.
But now you were having second thoughts about it.
"A fair number," April assured you, causing you to bite your lip. "Did you want to try them out?"
"I'd feel weird about those getting printed," you admitted, causing April to smile.
"I print those in house, usually. Or I just do them with a Polaroid. Does that change your mind?"
You went and changed again, still a bit shy as you kneeled down on your mark. You knew that you weren't exactly anywhere near your most beautiful right now, but these photos were for Jake, and he only seemed to get more loving with you as you got larger.
Resting one arm over your breasts, you arched your back and held the pose from the reference shot. April directed you to turn your head a bit towards her.
“Now, imagine that he’s standing right behind me.”
You adjusted your head a bit more and changed your expression until April took the photo.
~~~~~
It was a scorching hot day in Miramar, and you were trying to focus on the ceremony and not how much you were sweating. Hoping that you didn’t already look like a mess, you started to fan yourself with the ceremony pamphlet.
“You alright?” Bradley asked quietly, leaning over.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled back, fanning yourself some more. “Just a little sweaty.”
“A little?”
You elbowed him in the side before focusing on the stage again. You knew that Jake was up next and you didn’t want to miss it. And when they called his name and he got his new pins, you clapped proudly with everyone else as he shook Cyclone’s hand.
The ceremony wrapped up shortly afterwards and everyone stood up, but you continued to sit, not wanting to have to push through everyone. Not when your baby was sitting uncomfortably and moving around at the least opportune times. So, you would just wait for him.
Jake shook hands with the high ranking naval officers, trying to politely move his way over to where you were waiting for him. Excusing himself, he weaved through a few more people before he finally spotted you sitting towards the back. You smiled and waved to him, continuing to fan yourself with the pamphlet.
Jake strode quickly down the aisle towards you. Taking your time, you slowly stood up from your seat as Jake slid into the row in front of you to get to you faster because there was no way that Bradley was going to move out of the way in time.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” you told Jake, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you,” he mused, pulling you in for a soft kiss and resting his hand on your bump.
“There are other people around,” Rooster reminded the two of you, earning a pinch from his wife.
“Sorry we’re so far back,” you stated as Jake pulled away. “I was worried that I’d have to pee and need a quick escape route.”
“That’s fine. You’re drinking enough water, right?” Jake asked with a dash of concern.
“Yeah. And now I really need to pee,” you replied sheepishly, causing Jake to chuckle.
“I'll go with you,” Emma offered, standing up too.
“We’ll be right back,” you promised Jake, pressing another kiss to his lips.
You and Emma walked away, leaving Jake and Bradley alone with each other. Jake could have walked off, but he wanted to wait for you. So, he just stood there awkwardly with your brother.
“Congratulations,” Rooster stated calmly, standing up from his seat.
“Thank you,” Jake returned with a nod. Taking his cap off of his head, Jake tucked it under his arm. “I’m sure that the rest of the squad will get their promotions soon.”
“It doesn’t matter to me. I’m separating in six months,” Bradley replied seriously, causing Jake to blink with surprise.
“You’re not renewing?”
“No. Neither is Payback.
“Right,” Hangman spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why now?”
“Emma and I agreed to start trying for a baby in a few months. I’m already working towards my masters and Mav has a friend who could get me a job in the city once I finish it.”
“Have you told everyone?”
“She already knows,” Bradley stated, causing Jake to glance in the direction that you left in. “I’ve already accomplished everything that I wanted and now I’m ready to be home with my wife and our future kids. And maybe a dog if I manage to convince her.” Bradley scratched his cheek before dropping his hand. “We’ll tell everyone else after your baby’s born and things settle down.”
“Congrats to you too then,” Jake responded quietly.
“Thanks.” Bradley shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Did they give you your orders yet?”
“Not yet. But I’m dreading it already.”
“Nothing you can do about it,” Bradley reminded him.
“No,” Jake agreed quietly. “Doesn’t make it easier.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
They didn’t say much more than that, but there was a silent understanding that passed between them. Jake looked up as you came walking over with Emma.
“You good?” you called out to Jake, noting his smile was slow to return.
“I’m good,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m very good.”
“For the love of—”
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prying-pandora666 · 11 months
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Azula And The Tides: The Most Misread Scene in ATLA
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before:
“The tides scene shows how irrational and spoiled Azula is! She got lucky! She endangered her whole crew for her pride!”
Or any similar variation.
The only problem is it’s not even remotely close to true. Let’s talk about that.
Here is the scene in question for reference:
youtube
Seems pretty straightforward, right? I mean, the Captain warned Azula about the tides and she put her ego before reason and made the crew take a huge risk. Horrible leadership and narcissism on her part, right?
Except for one little detail.
Azula was right.
Remember in “The Storm” when Zuko demands his ship chase after the Avatar and his crew warns him that it’s a fool’s errand because they’ll surely perish in the storm? Zuko stubbornly insists his goals are more important than anyone else’s lives, including his Uncle, and demands they drive recklessly into the storm. Sure enough, the crew nearly perishes in the storm, just as predicted, and Zuko is humbled enough to even rescue his Lieutenant that he disrespected earlier in the episode.
I bring this up so we understand how ATLA sets up and then demonstrates its narrative cause and effect. It’s rather straightforward as, after all, this is being written to be inteligible to children.
So what happens with Azula’s ship when she demands they dock right away despite her Captain’s warnings?
The ship docks without incident or injury.
In fact, they dock stealthily enough that neither Zuko nor Iroh see Azula coming and she’s able to surprise them. How would this be possible if the Captain had been correct in his assessment and Azula had just been acting out of ego?
I’ve seen some people argue that Azula just got lucky, like a drunk person driving home in a car. Not that I expect the average person to have extensive knowledge about docking a ship, but it demonstrates a severe gap in knowledge of the subject matter. When it comes to the tides you cannot half-ass it. Either the tides are in or they’re not. Either they’re high enough or they’re not.
And if they’re not, what happens? The rocks you can’t see beneath the waves will shred your ship apart and you will get stuck or outright sink. Best case scenario, if by an act of divine intervention you avoided all the rocks, you’re still screwed because your ship is going to get beached and tip over. Especially with a ship of that size!
You cannot squeak by here. Even with all of our tech and modern day ships, if you don’t respect the tides, you’re going to have a bad time. There is no avoiding this.
It boggles my mind why people assume Azula is the one in the wrong here and not the Captain who is later shown to be so incompetent that he spoils the mission. He was talking down to her and she rightfully put in his place. Cold and ruthless as her method may have been, she was making it clear that she is not to be talked down to or to have her authority questioned. An important skill for a young leader. Look at the comparison with Zuko who couldn’t wrangle his men. They were about to mutiny and would’ve if Iroh hadn’t intervened! Azula has no Iroh to fall back on. She has to manage on her own. And she does! In this same episode we are shown that Azula is a perfectionist who can’t tolerate a single hair out of place. But somehow we are supposed to believe she is also reckless and incompetent? I don’t think so.
We also know that Azula canonically attended the Royal Fire Academy for girls. This wasn’t some preppy finishing school, it was an intense military academy with survival training so deadly that Rangi described having to eat worse than rats to make it out alive. We know Azula excelled in school. Why wouldn’t she know something as basic as how to read the tides? That’s seafaring 101.
Combine that with the fact that all their best naval officers probably perished at the North Pole and it’s easy to glean that this Captain isn’t exactly their A-Team.
So what IS the point of this scene if not to show Azula being irrational, egotistical, or incompetent?
Remember our comparisons to Zuko? The point of this scene is to show how much better and scarier of a leader Azula is. It’s a simple way to convey to the audience that unlike Zuko, Azula *can* and *does* command like a true military leader. She is therefor a more frightening and dangerous opponent for our heroes to face than the already dangerous Prince they’ve been battling since the previous season.
I don’t think this misinterpretation would’ve ever spread so far if some fans weren’t dead set on trying to tear down Azula for the simple crime of being better at things than fan-favorite Zuko.
And I say this as someone who adores Zuko.
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hotchs-bitch · 27 days
Text
The List || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader
summary: you and Aaron check off a few new boxes.
kinks: D/s, daddy kink, threesome, mistress kink, praise kink, degradation, thigh riding
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, emily prentiss x reader
content/warnings: in case it wasn’t clear SMUT 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI
wordcount: 3.5k
You’ve been dating Aaron for a few years now, so you like to think you’re something of an expert on all things Hotchner. There are plenty of people, your coworkers included, who think he’s all work and no play. That simply isn’t true. At work, yes, he’s a stark professional, to his core. But they don’t see him at home, playing with his son and basking in the domestic glow the three of you have created in your little apartment. And they certainly don’t see the type of play the two of you get up to, either. 
One of the tenets of Aaron’s work/play separation was that work stayed in the office. He had a home office, for when he needed it, but even there– nothing BAU-related got past the threshold. When he was home, he was home for you and for his son— work would wait as long as it reasonably could. So when you see him flipping through some paperwork in bed, you’re admittedly confused. 
“Whatcha doing?” You ask, pure curiosity in your tone. 
“I was just looking over the list. It’s been a while since we did these, I thought it might be worth taking another peek at,” he explains, looking at you over the readers you had bought for him a year ago, that he valiantly resisted for three months before finally admitting that they helped. 
He’s talking about your kink lists, which explains why he’s made it out of the office. Just shy of a year into your relationship, you’d broached the subject of introducing a dynamic into your sex lives, just to see if you liked it. Aaron had agreed, but insisted on doing his own, extensive research beforehand. He, admittedly, was wary about the idea of hurting you– even in a consensual way— and wanted to make sure he was fully prepared, both for him and for you. So he’d presented both of you with lists— you checked off things you knew you liked, things you thought you might want to try, and things you definitely didn’t want to do. 
“Why don’t you check yours, too,” he says, passing you your copy of the list. “Make sure it all still looks accurate. We’ve tried a lot of this stuff, so if you don’t actually like it—”
“Aaron, you know I’d tell you if I didn’t. I’d safeword if I needed to, or I’d tell you after the scene if I didn’t. You wouldn’t hurt me and I wouldn’t let you,” you remind him. 
“I’d still like you to look. Maybe things we haven’t tried that sounded appealing then, don’t now. Or maybe you’ve found that you like things more than you thought you would. It’s all good to know,” he encourages you.
You agree, climbing into bed and taking the paper and pen that he’d offered. You move some maybes that you had tried into the solid yes column, and a couple into the no column, too, but there aren’t any major changes. After a few minutes, you switch, and you find Aaron’s form to be more or less the same. You’re not surprised, really— You and Aaron have an open line of communication. There were no surprises. 
“So, I was thinking I might surprise you,” Aaron pipes up. You stand corrected. 
“Oh?” You say. 
“You’ve been working your ass off lately, between the team and the Academy Trainee course Strauss pulled you for,” he explains. “I wanted to do something fun for you. I noticed you still had ‘experience with two or more partners’ and ‘experience with a same-sex partner’ checked off as things you’d like to try…” he trails off nervously, and you can tell just by looking at him that he’s wondering if he should beg the floor to swallow him whole rather than continue this conversation. 
“That would be a very special gift,” you agree with a smile, putting him out of his misery. “But who? I don’t necessarily want to bring a stranger into the apartment,” you say. 
“You can say no, and we can never talk about it again,” he assures you. “But I was thinking… maybe Emily?” 
You mull it over for a moment, taking Aaron’s hand in your own to let him know that you’re thinking, not shocked into silence. You… kind of like the idea of it. “Have you talked to her about it at all?”
“Not about joining us,” he says, and his phrasing is specific. You know him too well for that. 
“But you’ve talked to her about… our dynamic?” You ask, confused. It’s not your real question— you know he’d never tell someone else about this without asking you, first. 
“No, no,” he corrects. “That case a few months back, where the men were all bound— she floated the idea privately with me that the unsub may be a dominatrix, and it came up naturally, that she’s… similarly minded.” 
“But with less murder,” you joke. 
“Like I said, we can pretend I never even brought it up.” 
“No!” You correct a little too quickly, making Aaron chuckle. “I want to. You can ask her about it.” 
“I will,” he says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.” 
+++++++
Emily says yes the next day when Hotch asks her about it. It’s the waiting that’s torture. It’s two whole weeks before the three of you find a day that works for everyone– and if you thought that was bad, the hours leading up to it were even worse. 
You’re on edge the whole day— you’re nervous, yes, but it’s an excited kind of nervous, like the moments after you pull the safety harness down on a roller coaster. You plod around the house all afternoon, tidying things that don’t need to be tidied and wiping down the countertops, mopping the floor, baking a banana bread just to do something with your hands. 
You nearly jump when Aaron wraps his arms around you from behind. “Go take a bath and ground yourself, my love. Use your fancy bubbles and take some deep breaths. I left you something to wear, it’s hanging up on the back of the bathroom door. Emily will be here in a bit. Would you like to sit with us while I explain your limits to her, or do you want me to do it?” 
“You can do it,” you tell him softly. 
“Okay angel. Then you go on up, take your bath and put on the pretty outfit Daddy got you, and sit at the foot of the bed and wait for us, okay?” 
“Okay, daddy. Thank you.” 
He smiles, giving you a quick kiss. “Nothing to thank me for. See you in a little bit.” 
You go upstairs and see that Aaron has already drawn the bath for you, and has set out your favorite soaps and bubble bath and a fluffy, warm towel. You sink into the warm bath, and let yourself soak, focusing on your breathing. It helps. Once you feel ready, you drain the tub and look over to the lingerie Aaron had bought for you. It’s a lacy red bodysuit, and it’s crotchless. You get yourself good and dry before slipping into it, not wanting the delicate material to get caught on your wet skin. Once you’re dressed, you go into the bedroom and kneel at the foot of the bed the way you normally would if you were playing with just Aaron. You can hear the two of them talking, laughing, even, as you sit and wait for them. 
Your anticipation builds the longer you listen to them– are they still talking about limits? Are they plotting– deciding what toys they’ll use, how they’ll tease you, when they’ll let you come? You can feel yourself getting turned on the longer you sit and think about it— you wonder if that’s part of their plan, too. 
You snap back to attention when you hear footsteps coming up the staircase, straightening your spine and turning your gaze towards the floor. 
The door swings open— you don’t move. You know better. 
“Aw, she’s so cute,” Emily cooes. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks, try to bite down on your smile. 
“Kitten, why don’t you say hello to our guest?” 
You look up now, at Aaron. “What should I call her, Daddy?”
Aaron looks to Emily, who answers. “You have such good manners, sweet girl. You can call me Mistress.” 
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for coming,” you tell her with a smile. Looking her in the eyes for the first time makes this feel a hundred times more real, and you can tell that when they finally touch you, you’ll be soaked. 
“Thank you for inviting me,” she smiles. “I understand that you and your daddy have a lot of fun together. I’m excited to have some fun with you, too.”
“Come here, kitten,” Aaron beckons, and you oblige him, crawling a few paces across the carpet and coming to sit next to his left hand. He runs a hand through your hair.
“Ladies first,” Aaron smirks, looking over to Emily.
Emily crouches down, nearly eye-to-eye with you, but she’s still a bit taller. She traces a finger down your cheekbone and the column of your neck, over your shoulder, sneering a little at the goosebumps that appear in the wake of her gentle touch. She pinches your nipple through the fabric of your lingerie, and you gasp a little, not expecting the sensation. 
“Hmm,” Emily murmurs a contented little noise at your reaction, not letting up on her grip. “A good pinch, or a bad pinch?” She checks in. 
“A good pinch, Mistress,” you assure her through gritted teeth. 
She smiles. “Good,” she says, reaching for the other nipple, rolling it between her thumb and index finger. She gives them both a sharp pull, causing you to cry out, before she stands back up. 
“That’s it?’Aaron scoffs. 
“We have the whole night ahead of us,” Emily reminds him. “I’d take advantage while I’m still in a sharing mood.”
He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, pulling you to your feet. “The thing about my sweet little slut, is that you don’t even need to touch anything significant to turn her into a mess,” he informs Emily as he uses his big hands to spread your thighs apart. You suddenly remember that your panties are crotchless, and tense up, worried that you’ll drip on the carpet before you’ve even begun. For his part, Aaron seems determined to make this happen— he kisses his way up your thighs, sucking at the tender flesh nearest where you were practically pulsing for him, but intentionally ignoring any action that would provide you with any relief. You take in a sharp little breath, trying not to whine. 
“That’s it. I can smell you, already. You like that, don’t you, angel?” He whispers against your skin. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you answer breathlessly. 
“I know, I know,” he says sympathetically as he rises to his feet. “But not yet,” he whispers before sucking a bruise into your neck. 
“Let’s move this party over to the bed, shall we?” Emily says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress, stripping herself of her pants and her top. Aaron follows suit, losing all of his clothes and climbing on top of the mattress, giving his cock a few cursory strokes, spreading out the precum that had gathered at his tip. Emily gestures to her thigh, and you straddle it accordingly. 
“Why don’t you tell me more about your daddy, angel?” Emily encourages you as her fingers sink into the flesh of your thigh and pull, encouraging you to rock against her. 
You oblige, riding her thigh as you speak. “I love my daddy. He takes very good care of me,” you say as you rock against her once, readjusting to try and find a better angle for your clit. “He reminds me to drink water and take care of myself,” you continue rocking and find the place where your clit rubs up against her thigh in just the right way, moaning a little. “And he always reminds me that I’m his good little slut. He loves to make me cum,” you say, your humping gaining intensity, causing you to moan a little “Oh, and I love to make him come too,” you say, chasing your release against her. 
“How do you like to make Daddy come?’ Emily asks, pushing your hair out of your face where it’s sticking to your sweat. 
“I like to take his cock in my mouth,” you moan. “I like feeling him all the way down my throat. Oh, Mistress, may I come?” You ask as your rocking against her grows more frantic.
‘Not yet, baby. It’s too early,” she cooes. “Keep going. I heard Daddy call you a name earlier, do you like that? Do you like when we call you pathetic little names?” 
“Yes, Mistress. I like to be called a needy little whore, or Daddy’s desperate slut.” You cry out.
“Oh, you are a desperate slut, aren’t you? Trying to come on Mistress’s thigh,” 
“Yes, yes, I’m a desperate slut,” you agree, hoping your acquiescence will earn you an orgasm. 
“Good girl. Stop,” she orders, and you hold back your sigh, not wanting to be punished. You step away from her, get back into your kneeling position on the floor. From your new vantage point, you can see Aaron– he’s been stroking his cock, watching you and Emily. He’s erect and slick, and you’ve never wanted him in your mouth more. You’re practically drooling. 
“Kitten, you’ve made quite the mess of my thigh,” Emily tuts. 
“I’m sorry Mistress. May I clean up my mess?” 
“Of course, go ahead,” She grants you permission, and you begin to lick your own arousal off of her. Her skin is so soft, and she smells so nice, that you start to get lost in it, mouthing at her long after is necessary, until you feel a tug at your scalp. 
“Don’t get distracted, kitten. Daddy’s waiting for you,” Emily reminds you, gesturing to the other side of the bed. You crawl over, looking at Aaron with glassy eyes. 
“Daddy, may I suck your cock, please?” 
“Hmm, let’s see,” Aaron says, extending two fingers, which you greedily pull into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them and taking them as deep as you can manage for a few moments until Aaron pulls them away. 
“Come on up, angel,” Aaron says, pulling you into bed. “Go ahead,” he grants you permission, and you settle between his legs, licking the underside of his cock and looking up at him as you do so.
As soon as you have as much of Aaron as you can take in your mouth, you feel two fingers sink inside of you– Emily’s, you realize with a moan. 
“Thank you, mistress,” you warble out without removing Aaron’s cock from your mouth. 
“Focus angel. Mistress had her turn, now Daddy wants you all to himself. Don’t get distracted.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you answer, refocusing your efforts on him, Even as Emily makes you squirm and whimper under her touch.
“Your pussy is so tight, sweet girl. Does Mistress make you feel good?” 
“Yes, mistress, feels so good,” you answer, but as soon as you do, you feel a sharp spank to your backside. 
“Focus, slut. Don’t make me remind you again,” Aaron says. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, taking him in your mouth again. 
You’re content for a few moments, but when Emily removes her fingers from inside of you, you can’t help but whine. 
“I’m feeling neglected, here. Kitten, why don’t you lay back against the pillows,” Emily encourages, and you look up at Aaron for permission, which he grants with a simple nod, getting up and taking one of his pillows with him. 
“Lift your hips,” He tells you as Emily comes to the head of the bed. 
Aaron slides a pillow underneath you just as Emily comes to straddle your face. “Mistress and Daddy want to come, angel, and then you can, okay?” Emily explains. 
“Yes, Mistress,” you say, craning your neck up to kiss her entrance. 
“Good girl, go ahead,” she tells you, lowering herself down towards you. You mouth at her with purpose, trying to remember all of the tricks you like best when Aaron does them on you, paying attention to which maneuvers make her tense up and cry out. 
A few moments later, you feel Aaron’s cock sink into you, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head– you feel so deliciously full, not to mention how thoroughly fucked you had been throughout the evening. You felt… saturated, in the best way. Each one of your senses was laser-focused on pleasure. You were so grateful to Aaron for doing this for you– the thought motivated you, had you kicking it into high gear with Emily. 
“Oh, good girl. You’re going to make Mistress come. You’re going to make me so happy. Don’t stop, angel. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t— fuck!” She cries out as she reaches her peak, her pleasure overwhelming you. 
“Good girl. You did such a good job, you made mistress so happy,” Emily cooes breathlessly as she gets off of you, not wanting to suffocate you when she collapses against the mattress to catch her breath. She leans in, starts to kiss your neck. “Where’d you learn to do that, sweet girl? Is my perfect angel a little slut?” she asks, mouthing at any exposed skin she can reach. 
“Yes, Mistress, I’m a little slut,” you agree. 
“Who’s slut?” Aaron booms as he pounds into you. 
“Your slut, Daddy. I’m your slut,” you amend.
“That’s right, kitten. Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You, daddy, my slutty pussy belongs to you!” You cry out as he taps your clit, and it sends him over the edge. He keeps pumping in and out of you as he comes, and Emily reaches down to your clit, rubbing at it. 
“Go ahead, come. You earned it, baby, come.” 
“Daddy?” You cry out, wanting to make sure you have permission. 
“Yes, angel. Come for Daddy, my perfect girl. You did so good.” 
You careen over the edge at his praise, arching your back and letting out a moan that turns into a cry. You’d been on edge for so long— before Emily had even arrived today, and it made the relief that much more gratifying. 
“Thank you,” you pant out as you come back down to Earth. 
“Give her a minute to settle,” Aaron warns Emily– the two of you had learned that rushing into aftercare could be a little overwhelming, so Aaron usually gave you a moment to catch your breath before he touched you. 
“You did such a good job, my sweet girl. I’m so proud of you,” Aaron whispers gently. “When you’re ready, I want you to sit up for me, okay my love?” 
You nod a little, taking another few deep breaths and scooting up towards the mattress. 
“Good,” he whispers. “I will be right back,” he says, climbing off the mattress and leaving the room momentarily. 
“Did you have fun?” Emily asks quietly, screwing the cap off of a bottle of water and handing it to you. 
You gulp at it aggressively while you nod. “Yeah, I did. Did you?” 
“Careful, you’ll get a stomachache,” she warns. “I had fun, but this was a treat for you.” 
“Still. It’s only fun if everyone’s having fun,” you remind her. “Would you… want to do it again sometime?” She asks, feeling bold. 
“Yeah. You should talk to Aaron first, though,” Emily says. 
“Talk to Aaron about what?” He comes back to the room with a plate of fruit and a damp washcloth, sounding concerned. 
“Nothing, baby. Later,” you assure him, and he gives you a little look that lets you know that he’s holding you to it. 
“Alright, angel. You need to eat something, and I need to clean you up,” he says, handing you the plate and bringing the washcloth between your thighs. You extend the plate towards Emily, and she takes a strawberry, popping it between her lips as you bite down into a crunchy apple slice. 
“Em, you should feel free to stay, if—” Aaron starts, but she cuts him off. 
“I’d love to, but I can’t. Sergio is a very lonely boy,” she explains. “But this was a lot of fun. Thank you both for inviting me,” she says, kissing you both on the forehead as she dresses and packs up her stuff. Aaron insists on walking her to the door and watching her get into her car, as if she didn’t have a handgun in her purse and enough combat training to take out half of Northern Virginia. You’re snuggled up against his pillow when he returns, and he smiles. 
“You had fun, angel?” He asks as he climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest. 
“Of course I did. This whole thing just begs the question…” you start, trailing off. 
“Begs what question?” Aaron asks. 
“Who are we going to invite over to check off those boxes for you?” 
157 notes · View notes
blacknedsoul-blog · 2 months
Text
A detailed explanation from my headcanon that Annabel has ADHD
So I had this six fucking hour trip. On a bus. Alone. And I was bored out of my mind, because sitting around being bored is as close to mental torture as it gets for me.
Fortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel: I was inspired. Away from the burnout I have with fanfics, I remembered that I've mentioned this headcanon several times on Nevermore's Discord and just thought, what better time to talk about ADHD than when I'm having a pretty ADHD moment?
But before I start, there are a few little things that need to be pretty clear on the table:
I'm being a bit hypocritical here: in general, I'm deeply against diagnosing fictional characters for two reasons: first, it's an impossible task to distinguish between character traits and symptoms to such an extent that you can go around forever without coming to a real conclusion unless the author of the work confirms it, and second, even if you have the disorder you're talking about, you can fall into the trap of perpetuating stereotypes or generalizing, thereby invalidating other experiences. So even if the tone of this review sounds very assertive, it is because of my writing style. I am in no way diagnosing Annabel; this is an analysis of her character through the lens of a possible disorder.
In relation to the above, where I point out an event in the comic that can be read as a symptom, I am not reducing it to "this only happens because she has ADHD". You CAN'T reduce a person's personality to "they has a disorder," and when I point out these examples, I'm not doing so with the intention of denying the background behind it, but rather pointing out how, under the magnifying glass of having it, it might exacerbate that behavior.
I am NOT a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or a neurologist: I am a woman with ADHD. One who has done a lot of research on the subject, been in therapy with a psychologist who specializes in the disorder, and talked extensively about it both with friends who also have it and with professionals. But I don't have a career in mental health, I don't pretend to, and everything you'll read below is a mixture of research and personal experience.
You're going to see a lot of "we" or "those of us with ADHD" because, as I said, I have it too, but this is all a generalization made for the sake of flow. The symptoms of this disorder can be expressed in many different ways, and not everyone has all of them (for example, there are some that I don't have, but it would be strange to change the voice of the text just because of that, it makes it harder to read). If you have ADHD and read a symptom and think "hey, I don't get that", that's perfectly normal. Your experience is valid and I don't want to pass it on. But it would be exhausting for me and for the reader to use tentative phrases all the time.
If this text resonates too much with you, I strongly recommend that you see a professional, if you're able, and not self-diagnose: ADHD has many symptoms in common with autism and other neuro divergences, don't risk misdiagnosis.
If you have a different opinion than mine on this subject and want to share it with me, I'll be happy to read it, if I don't answer it's because I forgot (forgive me?). But you can be sure that I will read it.
Anyway, let's get started.
What is ADHD?
According to the NIH (National Institute of Mental Health) website, this is the definition of ADHD:
Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is marked by an ongoing pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development. People with ADHD experience an ongoing pattern of the following types of symptoms:
Inattention means a person may have difficulty staying on task, sustaining focus, and staying organized, and these problems are not due to defiance or lack of comprehension.
Hyperactivity means a person may seem to move about constantly, including in situations when it is not appropriate, or excessively fidgets, taps, or talks. In adults, hyperactivity may mean extreme restlessness or talking too much.
Impulsivity means a person may act without thinking or have difficulty with self-control. Impulsivity could also include a desire for immediate rewards or the inability to delay gratification. An impulsive person may interrupt others or make important decisions without considering long-term consequences.
Here is an impression that needs to be clarified: ADHD is more about an inability to regulate attention than a lack of it. A neurotypical person may choose to focus on a task to get it done, we may procrastinate to death because even if we want to, we can't focus on it, or stand there absorbed in it ad infinitum until the house falls down around us (and we may still have trouble noticing). This is understood, Understanding all this, here is the list of Annabel's behaviors that could be interpreted as symptoms.
Hyperactivity
One thing that not everyone knows is that hyperactivity is not about running around like an uncontrolled animal. It can manifest itself in many ways, and there are many types: physical, mental, and even emotional.
In Annabel's case, she seems to be the first two types.
Perhaps due to her difficulty in expressing emotions, it is quite obvious at this point in the comic that her moods are made explicit through gestures: playing with her rings when she is happy or nervous, touching the ribbon around her neck in moments of anxiety, or playing with her hair almost as a default state.
Annabel.
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Doesn't.
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Sit.
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Still.
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Never.
It is also clear that Annabel is always planning something. Always.
This can be read into the logic of mental hyperactivity: when you have it, your brain just doesn't stop. Ever. And that's something that resonates with this lady.
Emotional Dysregulation
The part of the brain that regulates our moods works…erratically. Not to say it doesn't work at all.
This leads to a painfully common problem in women with ADHD: lack of emotional regulation is seen as drama, and instead of being taught tools to deal with it, we are taught to repress and bottle up emotions.
Annabel has highly internalized this as a defense mechanism. But here's the thing: if repressing emotions instead of learning how to deal with them in a healthy way is harmful, being biologically unable to regulate them can be even worse.
It touches the right nerves, and if you catch us flying low, it can cause explosive outbursts.
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Possibly violent reactions to feeling offended or uncomfortable.
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Or completely over-the-top reactions that we can't control.
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And it's not just anger that's affected, it's the whole emotional spectrum. Another emotion that is very noticeable is fear. If we don't develop tools to help us calm down, we don't get scared, we panic.
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If this happens too often, we can become prone to developing severe anxiety or frequent attacks.
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We may also have great difficulty dealing with frustration. Our brains love rewards, and feeling that we're not getting them because of our own inability to do something can be downright annoying. And if we don't have the tools to express our frustration appropriately, we can have quite childish reactions, ranging from temper tantrums to…pouting.
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I find it funny how several of these pouts are caused by Lenore, a bit like "Oh, come on, honey, what are we talking about?"
Another important thing to note here is that one of the most fucked up and notorious symptoms of this lack of emotional regulation is RSD, short for Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, defined as "a problem that interferes with your ability to regulate your emotional responses to feelings of failure and rejection. While rejection is almost always unpleasant, people with RSD experience overwhelming levels of emotional pain. This can lead to long-term mental health problems, fear of failure, and behavioral changes that negatively affect them throughout their lives."
Rejection and fear of failure are a problem for us. So much so that we may seek strategies to avoid it as much as possible, even when it causes us problems (such as not completing a task for fear of doing it wrong). This is an issue that can tear us apart emotionally.
Annabel is terrified of being rejected or despised. Her whole life has been built around appearances and getting the right people interested in her. If she can't do that, what good is she?
And that's something that comes up a lot in her relationship with Lenore. Repeatedly, in fact, but my favorite has to be this one:
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Annabel thought it would be the smart thing to do to break that bond because she knows they're never going to see each other again. But the look on her face when Lenore calls her a "damn liar" is just painful to watch. I think ripping her heart out with a rusty spoon would have hurt less.
Finally, on the subject of things that aren't so funny: that thing Annabel does about biting her fingers when she's in a critical situation is something I used to do, too (only I'd bite my knuckles or palms).
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My psychologist explained to me that when you feel like you're losing control, you immediately look for something to ground you, and unfortunately, physical pain is often a quick (if damaging) way to do that.
Codependency
Okay, here's a thing: it's not that we have a tendency as such to codependency, but this is a situation that can occur due to bad practices within a relationship. Especially a couple one.
As it stands out, people with ADHD can have a lot of problems with micromanaging ourselves, remembering things, dealing with our emotions, etc, etc, etc. And it is natural for close friends, family or our partner to help in those processes.
The problem arises when that help starts to become a parentification process where the partner who is providing support starts to do this on behalf of the other person, infantilizing them in the process.
This is a cocktail for resentment on both sides: the party calling the shots can easily feel that the other is putting a huge burden on their shoulders and not trying hard enough, while, on the other side, no one likes to feel like they are being treated like a child. Let alone that the person doing it is your partner.
But at the other end of resentment, there's codependency.
The constant feeling that you are a burden, insufficient or even disposable.
And that means you have a lot to make up for. On a regular basis. So much that you put yourself in a situation where you have to make horrible decisions so that someone else doesn't have to because somehow you owe it to them, who hasn't had that happen?
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What I mean is that yes, Annabel feels like she owes this to Lenore because she only remembers the part where Lenore came kicking in doors to save her from a marriage she didn't want. And if she can't do this for her, she doesn't deserve a relationship.
Feeling inadequate, that your partner is doing you some kind of favor by tolerating you and ending up idealizing their in the process is obviously not unique to the neurodivergent experience.
But we try, we try really hard and, like anyone else, we like to feel that the effort we put in is seen and valued.
If we are not careful about that, we do indeed fall into the risk of becoming codependent. The desire to feel loved or valued becomes a constant hunger for validation from which it is difficult to escape because we are aware that our brain will never function in a different way. And if that is mixed with RSD, it can become an even bigger problem.
Novelty, games, challenges, and rewards
Producing dopamine on a normal basis is one thing our brains aren't very good at (one of the reasons we can be prone to depression, for example), but you know what they love? Challenges and rewards.
New things feed our endless curiosity, but for some reason unknown to me, our brains really love challenges and dares. They give us dopamine like we're on a high.
So much so that some people use it as a tactic to perform tasks they don't like: "How many dishes can I wash before my dinner is ready?", "If I can finish this in less than 30 minutes, I can go get chocolate."
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One medium we may like very much for this reason is games. Board games, card games, or virtual games. It doesn't matter. Games provide a very good balance of challenge and reward.
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If you see that Annabel seems overly interested in how this works, it's because there may be a part of her that thinks "aside from the deadly situation we're in…this is like the most hardcore escape room ever" and inevitably there's something here that stirs her bug.
It may be something she loves about Lenore. As a good hypocrite, Annabel despises the rules she knows so well, so when Lenore comes along with this gimmick and completely changes the paradigm of what she knows, there is inevitably something that appeals to her. Others who are good at the game look down on Lenore's disdain for the rules, to Annabel it is fucking appealing because it offers a range of unexplored possibilities that she fucking loves.
Erratic Communication
When our brains are running at full speed, communication can become a challenge, and we tend to exhibit erratic patterns.
One of these is info-dumping. Touch a topic we know about or are interested in and it's like stepping on a landmine: we explode talking about it. Non-stop. You'll have to hit us to shut us up.
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Another thing is that we can have a bad habit of interrupting. A lot. It's not malicious, it's just that we're really into the conversation and want to participate as much as possible.
That said, even if we're extroverts, it can be a nightmare to withhold information or participate in a conversation if it doesn't grab our attention. It's not that we want to be disrespectful or anything, it's just that, again, we have no control over our ability to pay attention and we're swimming against the tide to hold on to whatever it is you're telling us.
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This scene is something I've seen in friends with ADHD and have been told I do: stare at people while doing your best to do the hamster run to remember what they're telling you because you know it's important, even though your brain is putting it together with junk information because it's not engaging your attention in the right way.
Ignore the murderous stare part, it's not that common - at least I hope not.
Drinks that are like a pill
Our brains are not designed to produce certain hormones naturally or, in some cases, they produce them under other circumstances. For things like that, we can take pills, develop strategies to help our brains produce hormones.
And drink coffee. Lots of coffee.
Caffeine can be extremely relaxing for us because it can actually help our brains keep functioning, you know that stereotype of the highly coded ADHD character who drinks coffee like it's his life? Well, that's because.
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You know what other beverage has a similar effect? Tea. Theine is also a natural activator, perhaps less aggressive than coffee, but it can have a similar effect.
If you're interested in describing this topic in fanfic or touching on it in fanart, tea should have a relaxing effect on Annabel and even help her concentrate.
Boredom
We get bored. A lot. And we get painfully bored. Here's what happens: boredom is caused by a lack of stimulation, and our brains aren't stimulated just because we can't regulate our attention to seek out that stimulation.
Add to that the fact that when we are bored, without dopamine hitting our receptors, our executive functions diminish and we function like shit.
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Boredom
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Is
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Fucking
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Murder
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Because our brain starts desperately asking for dopamine and we can fall into really unhealthy behaviors like fighting, being chronically online, or eating because we can't find anything better to do. This also contributes -again- to our depression or anxiety.
Conclusions (and if I don't make the joke, I'll die)
In the book ADHD After Dark (a study of ADHD, relationships, and physical intimacy), Ari Tuckman draws some interesting conclusions, one of which is that on a statistical level, people with ADHD seem to be more likely to have what he calls "sexual eagerness": kinks, fetishes, a tendency to be adventurous in bed, and the like. Again, our brains love play, and both intimacy and flirtation can involve a lot of it.
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So…
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Um…
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…well, I think Lenore will be happy. Good for her.
Anyway, this has been a seriously long explanation. Thanks for reading this far.
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madamevirgo · 1 month
Text
Here I am, Here I remain.
Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f)reader
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Spoilers!!, angst, fluff, Chani
A/N: So, I was absolutely not planning on writing a sequel to this, but some of you started asking, and my brain started working, and this came out at 3:30am. There will not be a third part to this, but this is of course not my last Lady Jessica work. Also, note that there are spoilers in this. I have seen Dune: Part 2, 5 times already so it's literally engraved in my brain and on my eyelids. I hope those who wanted a sequel to this little story of mine aren't disappointed. Big shoutout to the person who submitted the original request. If you haven't already, follow me on Twitter so we can be moots and talk about our faves :) Happy reading.
Part 1
After that night, there had been a noticeable shift in your relationship with The Reverend Mother. 
In public, you no longer walked five paces behind. It was more common to see you by her side or no more than a step behind, watching her back like a hawk. So much so so, that people had taken to calling you ‘The Shadow’ - the thought that people saw you as an extension of her, filled you with an indescribable amount of joy.
There was now a certain lightness to the Reverend Mother as if you were the missing piece to her complete acceptance of her new reality. She was quicker to laugh and seemed much more focused and involved in the fate of the Fremen. She had stopped talking to her belly so much as she turned to you, her confidante - sometimes you were more of a sounding board than anything, but you were more than happy to have her throw ideas at you if it helped her in any way. 
In private, things had also changed for the better. It was rare for there to be silence between you two, times in private were spent telling the other of life before each other; and in her case, how she was adapting to her new role and life. She told you of her parentage, she now knew the identity of at least one of her parents, and you had shared how Stilgar had raised you like his own daughter. You had developed a complicity that surpassed friendship, but you also weren’t sure how to describe this thing between you. ‘Friendship’ felt both like a gross oversimplification yet anything else carried an aura of delusion. The lingering looks, the gentle touches exchanged and the comfort that she provided, brought forth feelings that you hadn’t previously experienced. Every moment spent in her company seemed too short. 
It was because you had become so close emotionally, that it had been easy for you to notice oddities in her behaviour. She was more on edge, jumping at loud noises and snapping at the smallest thing. She also watched you as if you would disappear at any moment, which caused her to be clingy and on edge whenever you weren’t next to her. Pretty soon, you had concluded, that she had foreseen something. 
You had tried to broach the subject: “I see that something is troubling you, my lady.” you had whispered one day while you ate in the communal space. “Won’t you share the burden with me, so that you might breathe a little easier, at least?” she had frozen for a second, a change barely visible to untrained eyes, before relaxing.
“I cannot say.” she had said simply before continuing to eat. 
“You don’t deny that it is something?” you exclaimed silently. You had expected her to deny it. “Why won’t you tell me, it is clearly causing you to worry.” You were getting agitated now, and when you noticed some heads looking in your direction with veiled curiosity, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 
“I have been cursed with knowledge.” she started slowly, quietly - collecting her thoughts as she spoke. “I see many different outcomes for many different decisions, and hear the voices of all those before me whispering in my head. I always worry, sometimes a bit more than usual. I can handle it, what I will not stand for, however, is you asking for things I cannot give.” You flinched, as she continued her rampage. “I cannot share everything with you; because sharing them will not do anything other than put a burden on your shoulder, a burden that I must carry alone.” she finished 
“Bu-” you started
“Enough!” was the command that came out of her mouth. The sheer force of the order had your body recoiling and your mind spinning, forcing you into silence. 
It took you a few seconds before you could regain your senses. You looked around in confusion, before setting your eyes on her, and the shock of the realization caused your eyes to open and your chest to heave. She had used the voice on you. 
She had used the voice on you. 
The communal room had never been so silent. Not even during nighttime, as there were always Fremen patrolling around. Yet, right now it was so quiet that you could hear your heart beating in your ears as your body felt hot with embarrassment, shock and hurt. You sensed a movement in front of you, but before she could say or do anything else, you had stood up and left. Not looking back, and avoiding the eyes that followed you out of the communal space. 
—------------------
Stilgar and Chani were rarely, if ever on the same page. However, one thing that they could agree on, was that you were the best of them. You didn’t agree. Although you did try to control your anger, preferred to think before acting when possible and trusted until proven wrong, you could never escape the Fremen pride. 
The Reverend Mother, Jessica, had in just a second, taken away your free will and reduced you to a puppet. And she did it in front of your people. You were shaking with silent anger, your fists were clenched, and your nails were creating bloody half-moon cuts in your palms. Had it been any other weirding woman - had you been any other Fremen - you would have slit her throat. Instead, you walked away to calm yourself. 
Your steps guided you to your childhood home. You walked right in and slammed the door behind you, closed your eyes and leaned against it for support, before pushing forward with a harsh kick of your feet against the wooden entrance. 
“What did my door do to you?” You meant to go to your room and ruminate in peace, but the voice of your father had you enter the living room where he sat on a cushion he used for prayer and meditation. 
You stayed quiet as you paced up and down the living room, trying and failing to calm down. Never in your life had you been so angry. 
“First my door, now my floor. What is the matter with you?” you heard Stilgar ask, still you didn’t stop. It was only when he grabbed you by your shoulders that you stopped and let out a growl-like sigh. “Come, let’s sit and you can tell me what has angered you so,” he said as he led you to the couch.
You suddenly felt like a child again, like when you would have a nightmare or the other children would tease you to tears and you would run to him. He would sit you on his lap and hug you in his big arms and make everything better, everything would go away. 
Except now, you were an adult with grown-up feelings and responsibilities - and he couldn’t make this - whatever it was - go away. You still told him, about how you’d grown close to Lady Jessica and how she was worried about something, and how when you’d asked, out of concern, she’d used the voice on you. 
You expected him to get just as angry if not more than you, but he remained calm and thoughtful. 
Finally he said: “She said you were asking for things she couldn’t give?” he questioned. 
“Did you not hear the part where I said she used The Voice on me?” you asked in exasperation before getting up and resuming your pacing. 
“Do you know why I assigned you to her?’ he asked instead of answering your question.
“Because I’m your daughter and you trust me? Because I’m one of the best Fedaykin, because I’m a good diplomat? I don’t know father.” You snapped. He was angering you even more. 
“Yes, to all these.” He agreed as you sighed. “But, the real reason I assigned you to the Reverend Mother is because she needs a friend and you are the only person I know who wouldn’t be judgemental, or rude. You would give her a chance before anything else.” He explained as you stopped your pacing to listen to him. “The Bene Gesserit see more than we do, because of their training. A Reverend Mother sees even more. She is cursed with all the knowledge of the past and that of the future while seeing all the outcomes possible. It’s a big responsibility.” He said lost in thought. “It makes for a lonely life. One I have forced her to live. I guess it was only right that I gave her something to help her out.” he finished. 
“I can understand that, but that still doesn’t make up for her removing my free will like that,” You whisper as you sit next to him. 
“You have to understand that pushing her won’t do any good, and although you wish to help yoheru carry this load - you can’t. The only thing you can do is be there for her - by her side - and wait until she comes to you,” he said 
“When will that be?” You whispered 
“When she’ll be ready,” he replied. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n. You’ve been a very positive presence in her life.” he hesitated, “I believe that what hurt you the most is the fact that she said she might not be able to give you what you were asking for.” he started, “Perhaps you took it and applied it to some more…romantic feelings of yours.” he finished with a small smile, as I felt heat rush all over my body. 
“Stilgar!” You exclaimed in embarrassment 
“I may be getting old, but my eyes still work. I see how you’ve been around her. This will be something to acknowledge when you’re ready.” he finished and I sighed.
“Thank you, father,” You say with a soft smile, which he returns.
Our moment was interrupted by a loud noise that shook the entire yali, followed by screams. You were immediately on your feet as you rushed out.
Your heart beating widely in your chest. 
—--------------------------------------------
Chaos was everywhere you looked. Children and adults alike rushed to escape the Sietch or to find loved ones lost in the panic as you were being attacked. 
You helped where you could, but you only had one thing on your mind, and that was to find Jessica. You wanted to believe that she had been rushed out by the fanatics of the prophecy, but you wouldn’t leave until you were absolutely sure. Why did I run away like a petulant child? You asked yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if something had happened to her. 
You ran from corner to corner as you helped some of the men and Fedaykin lead the people out to the rocks outside. Stilgar wasn’t too far and was shouting orders for the people to stay calm as rushing would only make things worse. 
You could see some bodies already lathering the floor as people passed you with missing appendages, tears in their eyes and their skin covered in blood. You probably didn’t fare much better - dust had covered your skin and your sight had been hindered. Still, you pushed through. I have to find her.
“Y/n!” You looked to Stilgar. “Get out of here!” He shouted and you shook my head, he sighed and you continued searching around for her, and helping people to the exit. 
From the corner of your eyes, you saw a large boulder rushing towards a little girl who was crying and screaming for her parents. You ran, as fast as you could and swept her up in your arms and out of the way before the rock could hit her. A woman who must have known her, grabbed her from you, and you urged them towards the exit. 
Still, you couldn’t find her, and the attacks didn’t stop. Most people were out, and you hadn’t caught a glimpse of her or even heard a mention of her name. Why did I leave her?
You suddenly found yourself on the ground as you were knocked down. You watched with blurry eyes, as you were trampled on as feet rushed past you. No one stopped to help you. Before you surrendered to the darkness, you heard Stilgar’s voice screaming your name, and your last thought was to Jessica. I hope she’s safe. Please be safe.
—--------------------
You slowly open your eyes to darkness, and for a moment you were afraid you had lost your eyesight. You slowly sat up, every bone in your body protesting and looked around before letting out a sigh of relief. You were in a cave and could see and hear the hustling around.
You got up, your movements slow and tentative before walking out and into the desert. You could see the damage that had been done, people around you were crying, and shouting. So many lost, who had done this? You could feel anger resurfacing in you, and you were suddenly reminded that Jessica was still missing. 
All around you, people were busy doing something as you looked for her. You noticed Shishakli some paces away and quickly walked to her. She noticed you and pulled you in a hug, only slightly hurting you.
“Thank the Maker,” she whispered as you closed your arms around her. “You scared me, Stilgar and Chani have been so worried. We all were,” she said as you separated from the hug, but her hands stayed on your forearms.
You felt a slight pang of guilt at not having spared a thought to her and the others.  
“What happened?” You asked, your voice coming out hoarse.
“Harkonnens” she growled. “They used some primitive explosives on us. Caught us by surprise. We’re treating our wounded before making our way South. A council has been called.” She explained. 
“Is Stilgar in any shape to speak?” You asked in concern, looking around for him. 
“He looks shaken up, but he’ll be okay. I hear he’s pushing for Usul to speak,” she said and you looked at her in shock. Only leaders could speak in the South. 
Surely - No. Paul wouldn’t. Of that you were certain. You had spent enough time with his mother to know what he was and wasn’t capable of. A voice in the back of your head whispered: Paul wouldn’t, but what about the Kwisatz Haderach?
You banished those thoughts. And focused on your friend and what you really cared about. 
“Where is the Reverend Mother?” you asked, the concern and urgency detectable even to your ears. Without a word, Shishakli pointed behind you, where you could see two people standing at the very top of a rock. 
“Her and Usul are discussing as she waits for her palanquin to be ready to leave.” You thanked her, before rushing towards the two Atreides. 
You arrived as their conversation ended and Paul was leaving. He nodded at you in greeting.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, with a glance back at his mother. “Take care of my mother and sister for me, will you?” he asked as you nodded. The ‘with my life’ was implied. And he left, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 
You were left alone with his mother. You took a breath before looking at her, she was staring right back at you. Her eyes said more than you could understand. Something about the way she looked at you was different. 
“I’m sorry,” 
“I’m sorry” 
You smiled as you spoke at the same time. “No, wait. I’ll go first.” you started. “I’m sorry I left like that, I was angry. I’m still angry, but I got so scared when I couldn’t find you. I looked around until I passed out, not kn-” You were cut off as you felt yourself rambling.
Jessica had crossed the small distance between you and pulled in a hug, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You held your breath for a moment, before wrapping your arms around her and breathing in her scent. You could finally breathe normally, for the first time since breakfast. 
“I wish you hadn’t looked for me,” she whispered in your neck, making you shiver. “I had to be dragged away. I was so worried when the first attack hit and I couldn’t find you anywhere, I watched and waited for you to come out - and when you finally did...” she hugged you tighter, before stepping away and staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry I used The Voice on you, I shouldn’t have done that. I will never do that again. Not to you.” she whispered the last part as she cupped your cheek with her hand. 
“Thank you,” You whispered, moved by her heartfelt apology and by the fact that she had been so worried about your safety.
She smiled before becoming more serious. “Y/n,” she started, and you looked at her prompting her to continue. “I-” A voice cut her off and you put some distance between you.
“Your palanquin is ready, Reverend Mother.” said a voice at the foot of the rocks, and she thanked the man. 
“In the South,” she said with a sigh. “Everything will come to a head in the South; there, we will talk,” she said as she started her descent to the palanquin. 
—------------------------------------
Except you didn’t talk. Things had been too busy for you to have a moment alone, long enough to put your cards on the table. 
She had become simultaneously more secretive and more caring. And then, Paul had died, and she had remained oddly quiet. 
This was the woman who worried about him daily, while he was fighting with the Fedaykin, yet she stared emotionlessly at the pale face of her firstborn, while others all around wept. Your eyes widened in understanding when Chani came storming in, how not to believe when you are faced with the hard cold facts? Paul was the Kwisatz Haderach, the Lisan al Gaib, the Mahdi. And Jessica was not just a mere Reverend Mother. 
You were in a trance as you followed Chani into a room that had been assigned to her. You watched as she walked around the room, her anger loud and clear. 
“What are you doing?” you asked finally, pushing your thoughts aside to focus on her distress. 
“I’m leaving.” She said as she pushed her clothes into her bag. “I will not watch as we cheer and support our new oppressor. Even if it’s Paul, the man I love.” she said angrily and she harshly wiped a tear from her cheek. 
“I think that’s the problem,” you said softly. 
“What?” she asked as she continued packing and you made yourself comfortable on the bed. 
“The problem is, you love Paul,” you said louder as she looked at you. “You love Paul - that boy who has lost everything and doesn’t know who he is; you love Usul - the man you were trying to create, the one who was escaping his destiny. But are you willing to love the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib, and the Kwisatz Haderach?” you continued. “Are you willing to love and accept the person he has to become and the things that he has to do? Stand by his side?” Although you were speaking about her situation, the words echoed with you. 
The weight of the responsibilities which lay on Jessica’s shoulders had only now become clear, and you found yourself thinking about your role in her life, about your feelings.
“What are you doing here?” you looked up at the cold words uttered by Chani and saw the object of your thoughts standing in the doorway. She was dressed down in a simple robe, with no veil obstructing her face, letting you see the tattoos which only served to enhance her beauty. She was beautiful. She was Jessica, not the Reverend Mother with plans within plans - just Jessica. Your heart skipped a beat. 
Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the clothes thrown about and the bag nearly packed to the brim, before meeting your eyes for just a second and settling on Chani. “I came to thank you and wish you good luck in your ventures,” she said softly.
“I don’t need anything from you,” said Chani as she grabbed the rest of her clothes, before making her to the door. I got up to follow her and watched as she stopped next to Jessica. “I hope destroying your son was worth it,” she said angrily, before leaving. You tried to follow her out, but were stopped by a hand on your wrist, forcing you to look at the tattooed woman. 
“Can we talk?” she asked in that same soft tone. You looked at Chani quickly retreating before nodding. You would catch up. 
“What is it?” You asked in an even tone as you sat back down on the bed, effectively putting distance between you. 
“Are you thinking of leaving with Chani?” she asked, not wasting any time. You stared at her. You were considering it, yes. But you also didn’t want to leave her. She must have sensed your indecisiveness. “I’m sorry if you were put off by all that I had to do, and what I will have to do in the future to ensure that the prophecy is completed. I wish I could say this isn’t me, but I’ve been trained for this my whole life, and this is what I’ve become.” she took a deep breath, “There’s been a lot of confusion in my head lately, but one thing I know for sure is that I love you.” she whispered and your heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t prepared to love you, or anyone for that matter, but I fell for you and only realized when it was too late.” she paused as if to collect her thoughts. “I’m not here to beg you to stay or maybe I am, I’d very much prefer if you did; if only to keep my heart whole. Whatever the case, I had to say it: I love you. Not like I loved my Duke; it’s different but just as strong, if not more. There isn’t any obligation linked to my love for you, yet here I am, and here I shall remain, with my heart in my hands for you to claim - should you want it or not, it’s yours.” she finishes quietly and you stayed quiet as you took the time to process what she just said.
“You are Jessica, loving, caring, funny, sweet, gentle and sensitive. You are a Bene Gesserit, a Reverent Mother, you are the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach: you are driven, controlling, unrelenting, and secretive.” With each word, you took a step until you were right in front of her. “You are all that, and I love you. I will not always agree with what you have to do, or understand, but I will still love you and stand by your side. So here I am, and here I shall remain.” You said, echoing her words. “I will take your heart and cherish it - if you’re willing to take mine and do the same,” You said softly as you felt tears run down your face. 
She looked at you so softly, and traced your cheek with her hand, just as gently, before pulling you impossibly close and whispering: “Your heart will be safe with me” before pressing her lips to yours in a searing kiss. 
The road ahead was patchy, but you would walk it forever if it meant you could stay by her side.
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littelestvic · 3 months
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About the Damon Baker x Kris Gustin photo session and what it means to me as a queer artist obsessed with Joker Out
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Note, this is not me trying to look smart and trying to talk about someone else's art pieces, although my dearest Daria made a small analysis on the Kris-Bojan set that I found very interesting, and it is interesting that these are a somewhat subjective views of Bojan and Kris's souls, or at least a visual representation of themselves as people. In any case, this is, if anything, an overview of what these art pieces make me feel and their significance to me.
First I must admit, as an artist, that these photos are beautiful and actually hold a lot of artistic value from my perspective. I think these should be seen as pieces of art and must be perceived in a different way than other Joker Out photos. However it is still very interesting how much these photos actually talk about the subject: these pieces are an exploration of Kris Gustin, the person portrayed, and I've honestly never have seen portraits that explore the nature of the subject in such a personal manner. Kris is displayed in a subjective, intimate way, whether how Damon sees him or how Kris himself sees himself deep down. I'm sure more elaborate and accurate explanations of Damon's art can be found online, as I actually didn't know of his work until now, but as I was able to read he focus a lot on the intimacy of the subject.
Anyways, there's a clear theme this session follows: femeninity and vulnerability. The usage of visible makeup (a first time for Kris on camera if I'm aware), the flowers, the exposed skin, the cloth (a typical femenine piece of clothing on Balkan/Slavic cultures), I think they were all choices to purposefully provide a more femenine vision of Kris. But he still allows himself to do poses similar to those I've seen him do before, there's still a hint of the Kris I know, his posing flows naturally and doesn't feel forced because this is just a natural extension of what he is, this is a natural exploration of his most femenine side, he is simply letting himself flow.
I think we all know Kris seems to be a man with a complex relationship with normative gender roles. Even as a cishet man he has this appearance and mannerisms that can be more related to a more "femenine" convention of gender and I have always wondered if he has ever struggled with this, and that if he has ever felt forced to keep the normative conventions of what a man should be. Things like asking to have his hair cut shorter after being called a girl when he was a child, or denying to be put makeup on by fans, he sometimes tried to run away from things that could be perceived as "feminine", maybe out of insecurity, maybe out of fear.
But there he is,
Glitter on his eyes,
Flower in his head,
Embracing himself.
I am a person with a complex relationship with gender roles. I was born a woman. I am short and tiny and have feminine features that simply cannot be ignored. I will forever be perceived as a woman by the people around me. I look like a girl, I have long hair because I am not allowed to have it short and I wear women's clothes. And while I don't want to be a girl, my relationship with femininity is actually very strong. I like pretty things, I like sparkles and pink, I like everything girly, I like girls. I've been told it's stupid to perceive myself as a guy since I look so girly, since I like so many girly things, and in times I don't feel I have deserved the masculine pronouns I use and my neutral name I've given myself (the ones I can only use online out of fear).
So I try to put some sense into it. I draw girly things because I like girly things. I draw men because I want to be like men. I draw men in pretty soft pinks and sparkles and sequins because that's what I am.
And I've found a safe place in Kris, with his non conforming masculinity that more often than not becomes femininity. As many other people like me, I like him because he helps me put sense to my feelings. I draw him in soft pastels and pretty clothes and delicate features because in my mind, if a man like him can be allowed to be femenine, then I can allow myself to feel the way I feel too. I can allow myself to simply not fit any binary gender convention, and I can allow myself to be myself. I like Kris because I find a part of me in himself, I relate to him and I see myself in his eyes. It is a complex relationship where I don't necessarily like him because I find him attractive, I am not actually sexually attracted to him; I see myself in him, in my own little weird way. I have distorted my own reality to make my own perception of him fit my needs. This is why I draw him the way I draw him. And perhaps that's why so many praise how I draw Kris. It is unique because it's personal. And I know he doesn't necessarily see himself this way, at least not in the degree I do. My Kris talks much more about how I see myself than how I see him. The way I draw Kris represents myself. My Kris is myself.
So when I saw him in this session, with the glimpse and the passion and the attitude I draw him like, it felt special.
"He looks like my art" I told myself. "He's seen himself the way I see him."
This is Kris,
This is my Kris,
This is me.
So I'm very thankful for Kris trying to open himself, and embracing this vulnerable side of him I purposefully push into the narrative of my art. He called these "therapy sessions", so I can't help but wonder if these have been helpful to him, if he has found something about him, if he has learnt to accept himself the way he is. He has helped me cope with complicated subjects of my life, and I cling to him to keep with life. He is my special little obsession that keeps me alive. So I can't help but sometimes wonder if he's happy, If he's loved, if he's content with himself.
And I think this exploration of himself will be very helpful to his soul. I am very proud of him, I am hopeful for his future, and I wish him the best.
I love you, my muse, and thank you for allowing yourself to see you with my own eyes.
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thefallenangelsgang · 14 days
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Fuck it, I'm throwing my hat on the ring about the Emil announcing Nate from Fallout 4 is the bystander Soldier in the Fallout 1 opener.
First and foremost, it was a stupid thing to say. As he backtracks to later, the conceit of Fallout's protags is they are supposed to be anyone (and that issue is precisely why some people hate the extensive prewar character background given to you in Fallout 4). For the lead writer to pull a JK Rowling (why would you do that? None of those went over well) is such a major marketing misstep that it wouldn't surprise me if Emil gets reprimanded for it before we even get into the implication of what he said.
Emil your voice is as good as God when it comes to the canon. You can't just say shit like that and expect it to go well. Especially considering the implications.
Speaking of the implications, I'm not mad about Nate being a war criminal. It's a coloring I actually would welcome if the games discussed concepts like Capitalism, Racism, and War in any meaningful way anymore. And if Emil also didn't say this.
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Fallout's canon is rooted in reality. That is part of its whole thing. It's fun to do goofy shit like becoming the Silver Shroud and having a make believe superhero fight with the Mechanist or write a woman obsessed with Nuka Cola so much she traverses two games to basically kidnap the CEO's cryogenically preserved head so she can talk to him for all eternity, but the setting is very much rooted in reality.
You aren't dealing with fictional countries, you aren't dealing with fictional races, you aren't dealing with fictional hypotheticals. That is The Elder Scrolls job. You are dealing with actual countries, actual racism, actual history, and actual fucking politics. You have to be mindful of what you are doing and saying. You can't just do things because it's an interesting plot device without first thinking about the implications.
Fallout's world is a heightened version of our own, a path we seem to stumble towards with ever passing year unless we do something about it. It fucking sucks. I'm sure writing it feels like prophesizing the future and eats your soul a bit. It would mine. But that doesn't mean Fallout can just take a sharp left in terms of story and reality and get away with it.
To have Nate be the bystander Soldier and then meet him when he has a very good thing going for him (an expensive house during an inflation crisis, a robot butler, he gets into a vault for free for fucks sake) very much speaks to life rewarding him for his crimes. There is no hatred in his words when he looks at the flag of the country that made him kill innocents. His speech is speaks of remorse for leaving his family and the cycle of war, it does not speak of the horrors. Of watching you comrades bleed out in the Anchorage snow. Of the scream of shells overhead. Of the fear in civilians eyes as your buddy puts a bullet between them.
You all have to see how it looks like the man is fine with what he had to do during the war, right?
Not interacting with these concepts enough paints a picture of apathy and acceptance. In this day and age where being keeping the government honest and responsible for their actions is so important, that isn't going to slide without it being EXTREMELY purposeful, which it is not. It's tone deaf and lazy.
I respect a lot of what Emil has done in the past, but I am not above keeping him culpable when he has something so delicate in his hands. I hope this situation is what he needed to get his head on straight, or is the light bulb moment where he realizes he needs to pass the torch onwards. There is no shame in subject matter becoming too much as time goes on. There is shame in letting a previously critical series become the very thing it was criticizing.
He is going to keep getting dragged until he realizes that or he manages to convince the fans to be complicit in the degradation of setting. In doing so he is going to lose Bethesda most of its biggest fans who well and truly love the series and what it stands for.
But that's just my take, and I'm just a kid who studies polisci and history and can't shield myself from the inherent horror of nuclear war no matter how much I try.
War really never changes
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indigovigilance · 7 months
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Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important
There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.
Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:
A Companion to Owls
The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.
The Ressurrectionists
Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.
Nazi Zombie Flesheaters
I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.
Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:
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Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.
And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:
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Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.
But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:
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You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!
What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence
This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:
A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."
Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]
But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.
Why We Care
Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.
Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity
We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.
But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.
Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.
~~~
I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.
If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.
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