#I STILL CANT EXPRESS ALL THE EMOTIONS WITHIN ME

[onejellyfishplease]

HEIDHIDHDJDHDKJDJSHR

IVE WATCHED THIS SO MANY TIMES AHHHHHHH

I LOVE EVERY DETAIL AND MOMENT I CANT EXPRESS THISSSSSS DJHDKDJDKDJ

SCROLLLLLL SCROLL I LOVE U SO MUCH OMGGGGG THIS IS BEAUTIFUL WOAHHH EVERYTIME I WATCH IT IT GETS BETTER AHHH

ITS ALL SO FLUID AND YOUR SO TALENTED I AM ACTIVELY GOING INSANE I AM VIBRATING I AM STIMMING WILDLY

SCROLL WHEN I GET U WHEN I GET U SCROLL

I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL SHAKE YOU AND HUG U AND THERE IS NO ESCAPE BECAUSE I WILL FIND YOU THIS IS THE BEST THING PERIOD

THE EMOTIONS OMG, THEYRE EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED THEM TO BE!!!! AND THE SONG CHOICE IS STILL PERFECT IMMA PLAY IT ON LOOP FOR DAYS NOW JUST LIVING OFF THE DOPAMINE HIGH THAT THIS HAS GIVEN ME

I AM GONNA LISTEN TO THAT SONG AND REVEL IN THE KNOWLEDGE THAT SOMEONE AS TALENTED AS YOU MADE SOMETHING SO AMAZING ABOUT MY FIC!!! AND THEN IM GOING TO GO INSANE AGAIN

People from @onejellyfishplease 's discord already got to see this but I have decided Tumblr deserves to see this too :D

BEWARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE FIC OPEN YOUR SHELL TO FIND YOUR WINGS!!!!

I am begging Tumblr rn to not somehow screw this up. Let the animatic play I BEG

Song used: Inertia by AJR

But yeah if you haven't realized already I made a fan animatic for jelly's fanfic, Open Your Shell To Find Your Wings :D

I am not okay. Neither is Donnie

[orcelito]

Having lost my cat, my uncle, my great grandmother, my grandma's best friend (& one of the people who helped raise me), AND my dad all within the span of 9 months,

I have little sympathy for people who use deaths as an excuse to be an asshole. I get it, it sucks. Get the fuck over it. Your grief is not an excuse to treat others like shit. What the fuck.

[coeurify]

i keep thinking about begging ellie to kiss you while taking a pause when making out and she realizes how much of a hold she has over you. your voice has gone all whiny and wobbly like you’re about to cry grabbing at her shoulders even though she was JUST kissing you. she’s almost laughing because you seem scared she’s gonna get up and leave when there’s no else she would rather be ARGHHHHH

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18 + under the cut. making out. whiny!reader , dom-ish ellie.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i wrote most this then it got deleted so it may be a little short sorrryy

The moment Ellie pulled away from the kiss, you had chased after her lips in disapproval. Shifting in her lap when pulled back again.

“Nuh uh babe, need you to take a breath,” she hummed— swiping a thumb over your red cheeks. A pout pressed on your lips. So what if you were getting a bit breathless? Who needed air in their lungs when Ellie’s lips are against yours?

“ ‘M fine els, stop..” you try to keep your voice steady— but both of you can hear the slight whine to your tone. Ellie just shook her head, seeming to eye you up and down.

You take a large breath in to please her, albeit a bit dramatically. Then you look at her, at the unreadable expression.

It makes Ellie want to smile, how needy you seem to be for the next kiss. She doesn’t let the emotion show though— falling into her own thoughts as you breathe in small frustrated puffs above her.

At first the pause she started was genuinely sweet.. wanting you to catch your breath and calm the fast beating heart she could feel against her. But upon taking in your attitude.. well it changed.

To push this test further, she leans her back against the wall behind her comfortably, bringing you two even further apart.

Pouting still, you grab her arms, nails scraping against the skin there. Again you lean forward to try and kiss her.. and she turns her cheek.

This denial hurts, enough to make you whine and press your face into her neck, face flushed with embarrassment. This embarrassment twinges your whole being.. eyes stinging. Why was she denying you? All you wanted was a kiss. All you needed was her.

Ellie though? Ellie is having the time of her life. The way you squirm in her lap.. the feeling of your hands gripping at her like she may run away. It makes her feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“El, you’re being mean,” you say upon pulling back up to look at her. “I want a kiss,” you continue— your lip quivering. Unable to help the upset rising from not being pressed against her. If you weren’t already teary eyed you sure were when she shrugged like it didn’t matter.

“I want a kiss, please- Ellie c’mon..”

“What was that baby?” Ellie taunts, tilting her head innocently like you hadn’t spoken loud enough.

You blink back frustrated tears, squirming around more. She was being no fair. What if she really got up without kissing you again?

The thought alone pushes you to speak. “Please let me kiss you again Ellie,” you say it this time as clearly as you can, your chin tilting up to try and seem serious.

“Was just kissing you baby, you really cant wait more than a few seconds?”

Her words send a small jolt through you, the way she coos them in a taunting way.. the way she licks her lips to drive home the point. It’s maddening. A more dramatic part of your brain swears you will die if not kissing her again within the next minute.

“Ellie..” you crumble into her. unable to keep up the strong front as more words tumble from your lips, “please please kiss me again, need it. need you, stop teasing,” you sniffle— like you may actually cry.

God does it do things to Ellie’s brain to see you like this.. a whiny mess over a simple kiss. Your arms are trying to tug her close, tears ready to spill.. how could she say no? How could she ever say no to you? As much as she may be playing hard to get right now.. she was almost as desperate for another kiss too.

“my needy girl..” she patronized— but after another long second leaned forward to finally kiss you again.

[diangelodork]

DBDA nightly analysis #25! (sorry i've been lacking lately, i have not been in the right mental state but i am BACK NOW BABYYYYY)

tonight's topic: crystal palace the girl that you are (character analysis bc she's been getting shit on so violently lately and DOES NOT deserve it.)

i will say - i didn't care all that much for crystal for quite a while until i really sat down to analyze her motivations and background, but it is the hate that some people have been spewing about her that motivated me to analyze her tonight.

crystal palace is flawed. of course she is. she is by no means perfect.

the first time we see her is in emma's flashback to her and crystal. she would play in a graveyard, frolicking about and taking polaroid pictures with this ghost of a young child. she was good enough friends with this child for her to seek out professional help to get her back. she was undoubtedly kind to her.

when we see her next she is dazed and confused, and still, she makes a rude remark. this is not because she is inherently bad, but because she still has that memory of being mistreated. now, she doesnt have all of her memories, but she has the memory that people weren't nice to her. she feels she must fit into that mold and that memory. the way she does that is by being a dick.

we see her a bit more in depth in her walk with charles. she expresses that she feels like people weren't the kindest to her and, knowing what we know about the way she was raised, that makes a lot of sense. she was excruciatingly neglected as a child and seeked attention. the best way to do that was negative attention. it was the easiest to accomplish.

she has her spats with edwin, but they are mostly (if not exclusively) initiated by him. she returns his energy. then we see some of the shit she goes through with david. he is incredibly abusive all throughout the series and it is very evident how predatory he is. he chose her because she was unloved. because she was vulnerable. she was easy to take advantage of.

her breaking down in E1 is so, SO important to me. we forget that she is MEANT to be flawed. she is imperfect. like the boys, she is but a sixteen year old and she is so deeply scared. she doesn't know who she is or how to cope with the fact that she doesnt know who she is. on top of that, this fucker that she's with (affectionate) won't stop shitting on her for NO reason. from the start, he was a douche to her (he has his motivations for this as well, but that doesn't mean it's not true) and now shes sitting here and calling her abuser and the fucker that has been tormenting and stalking her is being linked to her ("her demon") and she cant HANDLE that. shes been hanging on by a thread all of E1. shes been dealing with so fucking much, emotionally.

interestingly, edwin is not an emotional character when faced with other people's issues. i say this because he still garners more compassion than her. the way she treats the becky aspen case, especially, is so fragile and vulnerable. the way she immediately starts crying after looking into becky's mom's mind should have elicited more sympathy than it did and it's incredibly interesting that it didnt.

i will be the FIRST to say how important the "it's a lark to you!" scene is for edwin, but i never hear anyone discuss crystal's part in this conversation. shes so desperate and hurting and it's so strange that no one talks enough about that.

except no its not. i wish it was.

i truly think its an issue of her being a black woman and standing in the way of payneland. there is a lot of internalized misoginoir within how the fandom views her character. it is explicitly highlighted within the show how similar edwin and crystal are and a lot of the things she gets hate for are characteristics that are also incredibly prevalent in edwin's character. for example, her brashness and bluntness. it’s okay when it’s edwin, the white, queer twink of everyone’s dreams, but the second it’s a woman who is already on thin ice for the fandom because she’s standing in the way of the main ship, it’s easy to say she’s a bad person for this.

crystal is so unwavering as a character. she has such strong themes of feminism all throughout her story. she is able to separate from her abuser and intimidate and overpower him which is so STRONG. she is able to hone in on the divine femininity of her ancestors and THAT is where her power is derived from. she confronts a goddess of female vengance and justice and stands in front of her, demanding justice for the young girls slaughtered under her watch. she is inherently, at her core, good. she has done shitty, awful things in her past, but that happens when you are abused. it is not an excuse, but she is a CHILD who has been deeply abused. neglect is a form of abuse.

also, could you IMAGINE how it must feel to be such a deeply unloved character who KNOWS they are unloved. she is a psychic. she could see into the minds of her parents. she could always see their apathy. what a lonely fucking thing to go through, my god.

even still, when she was doing these awful things, she took the time to connect with a young girl and spend enough time with her for them to bond and for her to miss her. her first instinct (with the memories of her parent's neglect gone) is to cross an ocean to save a little girl. she is so deeply touched by maren and shelby's stories.

she is a flawed character, but they all are. she gets more hate than all of them and, if you are one of the people who hate her above all else, i want you to ask yourself why? these views are, of course, not held by the majority of the fandom, but it has become a big fuckin issue and i wanted to address it. acknowledge where it’s coming from, if you’re one of the people feeling a bit targeted by tonight’s analysis. love yall <3

[yanderesimp2000]

alastor ships part 1 charlastor

written by a friend because and he gave it to me so shout out to Ramazan also you owe me 200 Manat

(CANT FIND ARTIST)

ALSO IM DOING A LOTTERY I WILL RANDOMLY PICK A FOLLOWER BY USING A RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR AND SCROLLING THAT NUMBER OF TIMES SO IF YOU WANNA ENTER FOLLOW PREEXISTING FOLLOWERS ARE ALREADY INCLUDED DEADLINE IS OCT 18TH 2024

The streets of Hell were never quiet, but tonight there was a kind of serenity, a strange calm that had settled over the chaos. The red glow of the underworld's sky cast a warm light over the towering buildings, the jagged silhouettes of demonic architecture reflecting against the fiery horizon. Within the hotel—Hazbin Hotel—things were different, quieter, though there was still an underlying tension that never seemed to leave. It was a hotel meant to reform sinners, after all, not a sanctuary of peace.

In the heart of the hotel, Alastor, the Radio Demon, leaned against the grand piano, his fingers lazily dancing over the keys. A crooked smile tugged at his lips, but his crimson eyes were focused on the figure sitting on the couch across from him—Charlie, the princess of Hell. She was sprawled out, her blonde hair cascading in waves, and her bright, hopeful eyes seemed to dull in thought. It was rare for her to be anything but optimistic, and the fact that she wasn’t smiling filled the air between them with a thick tension.

The relationship between Alastor and Charlie was not one that anyone had expected, let alone understood. Alastor was a notorious overlord, a demon with a penchant for chaos, who delighted in manipulating others and watching Hell burn. Charlie, on the other hand, was the very opposite—bright, hopeful, always searching for redemption for others. She believed, perhaps foolishly, that even the worst of sinners could be saved. Somehow, their contrasting natures had drawn them together in a strange, unexpected dance.

Alastor's smile never faltered as he watched her, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Darling," he said, his voice as smooth as honey but tinged with something darker, "what seems to be on that precious mind of yours?"

Charlie blinked, snapping out of her trance, and glanced at him. A soft smile pulled at her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Oh, it’s nothing, Alastor. Just...thinking."

He raised a brow, amusement clear in his expression. "Thinking? In Hell? My dear, that’s dangerous. What could possibly have you so preoccupied?"

Charlie sighed and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. Her gaze wandered out the window, looking at the flames that licked the sky in the distance. “It’s just...I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing anymore,” she admitted softly. “The hotel, trying to help all these lost souls... What if it’s all pointless?”

Alastor's smile faded for the briefest of moments before returning, though this time it was less playful. He stood up from the piano and crossed the room, moving with his usual eerie grace, until he was standing in front of her. He knelt down, so they were at eye level, and cupped her chin with his gloved hand, tilting her face to meet his gaze.

"My dear Charlie," he began, his voice low and rich, "you've always known that this little...project of yours was a gamble. But you're not one to shy away from the impossible. In fact, I daresay that's part of what I find so...enthralling about you."

Charlie blushed, her heart fluttering in her chest. She could never quite tell when Alastor was being sincere or simply toying with her emotions. But in this moment, his words felt genuine, even if they were wrapped in his usual charm.

She reached up, placing her hand over his. "Do you really think it’s possible?" she asked softly. "That I can actually help people here?"

Alastor chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I think anything is possible, my dear. But whether or not you succeed—well, that’s entirely up to you." His crimson eyes glittered with something dangerous, something seductive. "You have the passion, the drive, but this is Hell, after all. You can’t change it without getting your hands dirty."

Charlie frowned slightly. “I don’t want to become like the others here, Alastor. I want to do this my way.”

“And I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. He stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t...bend the rules a little, does it?”

Charlie hesitated. She had always tried to maintain her ideals, to stay true to her vision of redemption. But Alastor’s words stirred something inside her, a part of her that wondered if she had been too naïve. Could she really bring about change in Hell without becoming a part of it?

Alastor, ever observant, saw the conflict in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You know, darling, there’s nothing wrong with a little darkness. After all, it's what makes life—or death, in our case—so...entertaining."

She shivered at his touch, at the way his voice sent chills down her spine, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic hum that always seemed to accompany his presence. Despite everything—despite his manipulative nature, despite the fact that he reveled in chaos—she found comfort in his arms.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she murmured. “To do what needs to be done.”

Alastor chuckled softly, stroking her hair. "Oh, but you are strong, my dear. Stronger than you know. And if you ever doubt that strength, well..." He pulled back slightly to look at her, his smile sharp, but his eyes softening ever so slightly. "You have me by your side, don't you?"

Charlie gazed up at him, her heart swelling with emotion. She knew that Alastor was dangerous, that his affection for her came with its own set of risks. But in this moment, she didn’t care. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah... I do."

He leaned down and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, yet there was always a hint of darkness in his touch, a reminder of who he was. But Charlie had come to accept that part of him, just as she had come to accept the darkness within herself.

When they pulled apart, Alastor's grin was wide, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Now, my dear, enough of this melancholic musing. What do you say we take a little break from all this...redemption nonsense and have a bit of fun?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her smile returning in full force. "Fun? What kind of fun?"

Alastor twirled her around, making her laugh, before pulling her close again. "Oh, I’m sure we can think of something. After all, Hell is full of...opportunities for entertainment."

She giggled, her earlier worries fading as she leaned into him. “Alright, Mr. Radio Demon. Lead the way.”

And so, with a flick of his hand, the shadows around them seemed to shift, bending to Alastor’s will as they disappeared from the room, leaving the quiet of the hotel behind.

As they stepped out into the chaotic streets of Hell, hand in hand, Charlie realized that, despite the odds, despite the uncertainty of her mission, there was one thing she was sure of—she didn’t have to face it alone.

And in Hell, that was enough.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now a Part Two of more info on "The Monkey King and the Infant" au:

link to part one

There's A LOT of crying and emotions between characters in this fic. Like full on "imma destroy this wall real quick" tantrums from Sun Wukong *and* Macaque. They're both deeply hurt and very bad at communicating.

Macaque's death in JTTW is canon. He had not set upon Tripitaka on his own accord - he had been ordered. He doesnt remember who gave the order though - must have drank some soup in Diyu.

Macaque believes that Lady Bone Demon only resurrected him to let her out. But she also secretly needs MK for something. Macaque prays that they never cross paths. Spoilers: they do.

Before Tang and Pigsy realised who the two monkeys actually were; they managed to get them jobs in their own workplaces. Macaque assists Tang at the University library where he works as an archivist. Sun Wukong on the other hand is the pretty host/delivery boy that charms tips out of all of Pigsy's customers. Even after the reveal, the two monkeys enjoy their day jobs.

Pigsy doesnt trust Sun Wukong to run the kitchen on his own. He does trust Macaque though, which makes Sun Wukong furious.

The co-parents learned that MK has built-in Gold Vision cus he has no filter;

MK (age 4): "What happened to your eye?" Macaque: *checks if his glamour is on* Tang: "Huh? What about his eyes? They look normal to me... oh he probably just means that little scar you have." Macaque, relieved: "Oh... this. I got in my last battle." MK: "No no! I mean your WHITE eye. The one you don't squint out of. Same side as the white streak in your hair." Macaque: "...what?" Tang, slowly realising whats going on and trying to hold back a lore infodump: "Ah! :D"

Sun Wukong will start sobbing at the drop of a hat if asked how his and Macaque's last fight went. MK learned that the hard way and it caused a crying chain reaction.

It takes Shadowpeach literal years of living and raising a child together before they realise that they've fallen back in love. Meanwhile Freenoodles got express delivery within weeks of MK being in their lives.

One of the first shapeshifting forms MK was able to take on is a brown piglet. Yes, Pigsy cried the first couple of times it happened.

Sun Wukong and Macaque shared the restaurant apartment for most of MK's childhood. Pigsy used to live there too, but moved in with Tang nearby after he took in the the soon-to-be monkey parents. He claims it was to "save up on space", but it quickly turned into something else along with his relationship to Tang. In the modern day, MK still lives in the apartment above the restaurant like in canon. Sun Wukong mostly lives at Flower Fruit Mountain when he's not staying in the city - otherwise he forcibly crashes at Macaque's loft in the University district.

MK is trans masc (he/they) in this au, as is Macaque and maybe Tang. Self projection ahoy.

Demon attacks and Human threats have followed the family throughout MK's childhood, but its nothing a superpowered team of dads cant handle. Except the first time MK scraped his knee at kindergarden and Sun Wukong was convinced that he was gonna bleed out. Or when MK got his first bad cold and Macaque ruined the kitchen trying to alchemise a cure. Or MK's first run in with a bully that made Pigsy so mad that he reconnected with Sandy to pull a "scary bodyguard" act on the bully. Or MK's first school play where he played the role as a cloud, and Tang clapped a little too loudly. Or his first- (the list goes on. these dorks are so proud of their little stone egg baby).

Please add your thoughts in the tags or send asks cus my butt's gonna write a fic soon

[stevie-petey]

could we perchance get a lil blurb about why/how reader and dustin started their code blues, or maybe just one of their code blues before all the upside down stuff started ? love seeing their sibling relationship always and i think seeing them talking and sharing emotions with each other would be really sweet <3

dustin n reader <333 babies <333

enjoy !

"just because dad left it doesnt mean you can be a bitch."

dustins words cut through you like knives.

"okay, first off, never use that word towards a girl ever again." he rolls his eyes at you and you flick his nose, which he scoffs at. "secondly, i have no idea what youre talking about."

dustin again rolls his eyes. "yeah, you do. youve been a real b- i mean, a real jerk lately."

you want to argue with him, but the words dont seem to come. all you seem to do lately is argue with everyone. and now, confronted with your little brother calling you bitch, you find that youre exhausted.

"i have, havent i?" you finally admit.

dustin nods. "yeah."

you forget sometimes how smart the kid can be. hes only nine and yet here he is, calling you out for actions you shouldve noticed yourself. hes too young to be worrying about this.

"im sorry,"

"its okay. i get it. he sucks, doesnt he?"

"he does, but im still sorry for being such a bitch."

"i thought we couldnt use that word."

you ruffle dustins hair. "nope, youre not allowed to. i am, though."

he sighs, as if expecting that response, and starts to walk out your room. the conversation doesnt feel finished yet, however, and you call after him. "wait!'

"i gotta pee."

"okay, and i told you to wait."

he groans but sits back down on your bed. "do you wanna... talk?"

"ew!"

"i know, but... im serious, buddy. we havent really talked since dad left and i realize i kinda suck as a big sister right now." you feel guilt crawling up your throat, one of the few emotions youve felt these last few days. your dad left a few weeks ago, but sometimes it feels like its been a lifetime.

"you dont suck," dustin reassures you. "youre just... scary right now."

you snort. "yeah, like thats any better."

its quiet now, and dustin sits stiffly against your bed. he seems scared being so close to you, as if you could erupt any second, and you feel horrible for it. youre not sure what you can do, though. theres still so much anger within you, resentment and betrayal, and you dont know how to express so much without hurting those around you.

then, an idea comes to you.

"what about this. we'll call it a code blue."

dustin looks up at you, curious. "whats a code blue?"

"well, my dear brother, its something we'll do when we cant express how we feel or when we think the other sibling needs to have a talk. whenever one of us calls a code blue, the other has to answer honestly and listen as best as they can. once its over, we never bring it up again and we conclude with a hug. hows that sound?"

he thinks for a moment. "honest about anything?"

"mhm,"

"alright. i think that could work. seems less emotional."

you laugh. "i figured youd like that part."

"so... code blue?" dustin asks hesitantly.

"code blue."

you tell dustin everything, explaining why youve been so destructive and bitter and mean. he listens as best as any nine year old can, and as you tell him everything, the weight that had been pressing against your chest these last few weeks begins to lessen. slowly, during the code blue, it becomes easier to breathe.

when youre finally done, right as the last words leave your lips, dustin throws his arms around you. "i love you."

you bring a hand to his hair and kiss the top of his head. "i love you, too. dont let me get all mean again, yeah?"

"i wont."

"good."

[snowangie]

snow on the beach

a finnick odair x fem!oc series

summary: in the heart of the capitol's glittering deception, Giselle Snow, granddaughter of president coriolanus snow, conceals her true emotions while working to undermine the hunger games. sent to district 4 after the 74th Games, she grapples with forbidden love for district 4's Finnick Odair. Snow on the beach is weird but fucking beautiful - Giselle is the snow, Finnick is the beach, an unexpected yet perfect harmony in the delicate ballet of their existence. as the quarter quell unfolds, panem becomes a battleground for love and rebellion, and Giselle faces a choice that will alter destinies and unravel the threads of her past.

content warnings: swearing, smut, violence, death, torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, mental illnesses

genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, violence, hurt/comfort

chapters: 1 - flecks of lights , 2 - life is emotionally abusive , 3 - time cant stop me quite like you did

chapter 3: time can't stop me quite like you did.

The passage of time in District 4 had left an indelible mark on Giselle and Finnick's complex connection. Several weeks had passed since that fateful night at Finnick's house, and the once-intimate moments between them had become scarce. The distance, both emotional and physical, lingered like a palpable ache.

As Giselle carried out her duties in District 4, she could feel Finnick's eyes on her from afar. His watchful gaze spoke volumes – a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that still lingered between them.

One day, amidst her routine, Giselle received a summons from the Capitol. A person from her past life there requested her presence. She left her duties in District 4 to meet the mysterious messenger.

President Snow, in his calculating wisdom, had decided it was time for Giselle to return to the Capitol for good. Her work in the districts was deemed complete, and her presence was required for the upcoming Hunger Games. The announcement, a harbinger of tribulation, loomed in the near future.

The weight of the Capitol's expectations pressed on Giselle's shoulders as she absorbed the news. The delicate balance she had strived to maintain in District 4 was now disrupted, and the impending return to the Capitol held a sense of foreboding.

That night, as Giselle grappled with the implications of her impending departure, Finnick, unable to stay away any longer, appeared at her doorstep. Their eyes met, and a whirlwind of unspoken emotions surged between them.

She hesitated for a moment before inviting him in. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting shadows that mirrored the complexities of their relationship.

In the quiet of Giselle's quarters, they finally spoke. The tension in the air was palpable, and Giselle, with a heavy heart, shared the news of her departure. “I'm leaving tomorrow, Finnick. The Capitol needs me for the Hunger Games. The Capitol is pulling me back. My work in the districts is done.”

Finnick, his gaze fixed on her, his expression revealing a mix of conflict and understanding, muttered, “They always find a way to pull us back in, don't they?”

Giselle nodded, her eyes revealing a mixture of vulnerability and restraint. “It's what I was born into, Finnick. But maybe... maybe it's a chance to change things from within.”

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and frustration. “And where does that leave us? We were good. But that night at my house... things changed, and it's been hard to find our way back.”

Giselle, tracing patterns on the edge of a table, admitted, “I thought we had something real, something beyond the Capitol's games. But then I questioned it all, and it felt like everything fell apart.”

Finnick, closing the distance between them, spoke with a raw honesty, “That night was a mess, Giselle. I didn't know how to handle what we shared. I thought I was protecting you, but maybe I was just protecting myself.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching for a connection. "We're both products of this system, Finnick. But maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to navigate it together.”

The room held a charged atmosphere as they grappled with the complexities of their connection. Finnick, his frustration evident, questioned, "What are we, Giselle? Are we just part of the Capitol's games too?"

Giselle, meeting his gaze, countered, “We can be more, Finnick. It's not easy, but we can redefine the rules. The Capitol might pull us back, but we have a choice in how we play their game.”

As the night unfolded, their conversation delved into the intricacies of their emotions, the unspoken promises, and the vulnerabilities that lay beneath their poised exteriors. In the quietude of Giselle's quarters, the echoes of their dialogue danced, revealing a connection that defied the Capitol's expectations. In the quiet intimacy of Giselle's living chambers, the air held a palpable tension—a mix of longing and the impending separation that hung between her and Finnick. The room witnessed a passionate interlude as their hearts yearned for a connection that defied the confines of Panem's expectations.

Finnick, his gaze drawn to Giselle like a moth to a flame, found solace in the softness of her presence. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that played upon the contours of Giselle's face, and he couldn't resist the allure any longer. Finnick’s gaze lingered on Giselle, capturing every detail of her presence—the soft curve of her lips, the glint in her eyes that mirrored the starlit ocean. A touch both gentle and fervent, he traced the line of her jaw, his fingers igniting a trail of sensation. In that poignant moment, he couldn’t resist the pull any longer. With a tender urgency, he cupped her face, his lips finding hers in a dance that mirrored the ebb and flow of the sea.

Giselle, acutely aware of the imminent departure that loomed, met Finnick's gaze with a mixture of love and desperation. Their lips collided in a fervent kiss that spoke volumes of the unspoken promises between them. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and they were consumed by the passion that had blossomed in the midst of rebellion and clandestine whispers.

As their kiss deepened, the room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their hearts, entwined in a dance of longing. Giselle's hands found refuge in Finnick's hair, holding onto the fleeting seconds before the inevitable separation. Every touch, every shared breath, echoed a love that had transcended the societal boundaries that sought to tear them apart. Time seemed to pause, allowing them to savor the sweetness of their stolen moment.

When they finally parted, a breathless silence enveloped the room, leaving behind the lingering warmth of their connection. In that sacred space, Giselle and Finnick were bound by a love that refused to be silenced—a love that whispered promises of reunion even as Giselle prepared to return to the heart of the Capitol's machinations.

In the fading twilight, Finnick broached the subject that lingered unspoken, “Giselle, when the quarter quells arrive, and I'm supposed to mentor the tributes, what if we plan to see each other again? Maybe not in the spotlight, but somewhere discreet.”

A flicker of hope danced in Giselle's eyes as she considered the suggestion. “Finnick, that sounds like a risky endeavor. The Capitol's eyes are everywhere. But...”

He interjected with a sly smile, “But isn't that what makes it interesting? We navigate the Capitol's games within their games.”

They shared a quiet laugh, their connection growing stronger amidst the uncertainty. Giselle, feeling the weight of her impending return to the Capitol, nodded in agreement. “Let's plan for it, Finnick. A discreet meeting during the quarter quells. Something that even the Capitol won't suspect.”

Finnick, the corners of his mouth quirking up, responded, “We'll be careful. Just a moment, a stolen breath in the midst of their orchestrated chaos.”

In the quiet hours of the night, Giselle and Finnick found solace in each other's company, away from the tumultuous world that awaited them. The moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow as they lay side by side, their shared vulnerabilities creating an unspoken bond between them. The promise of a clandestine meeting in the shadow of the Capitol's watchful gaze during the quarter quells became a glimmer of hope in the face of their imminent separation.

The room, adorned with memories of shared moments, became a haven from the harsh realities they faced. Giselle's silhouette was softened by the dim light, and Finnick's eyes traced the contours of her face, a map of both strength and vulnerability.

As they lay together, a delicate silence enveloped them, broken only by the rhythmic cadence of their breaths. The weight of their individual struggles seemed to dissipate in the intimate space they created, a sanctuary where the world's troubles held no sway.

Finnick, his fingers gently tracing patterns on Giselle's hand, spoke in a hushed tone, "In this moment, it feels like the world outside these walls doesn't exist. Just you and me, away from the Capitol's games and the district's strife."

Giselle, her gaze meeting his, whispered, "For a moment, we're free. Free from the expectations, the struggles, and the weight of the roles we play."

The moonlight cast a gentle shimmer upon them, and in that quiet intimacy, their connection deepened. The air was filled with unspoken promises, a silent pact to cherish the stolen moments they found in each other's arms.

As sleep claimed them, the room became a haven of dreams, where the echoes of whispered confessions and shared laughter intertwined. The night, despite its tranquility, carried a bittersweet melody – a reminder that the morning would bring new challenges, and the realities they sought refuge from would once again demand their attention.

In the soft embrace of slumber, The Capitol's Darling and The President's Darling, Giselle and Finnick found a temporary respite, a poetic interlude in the symphony of their intertwined lives. The moon, witness to their shared vulnerability, cast a tender glow upon their forms, creating a canvas of warmth and serenity amidst the complexities that awaited them with the dawn.

During the quiet hours before dawn, Giselle prepared to return to the Capitol, the echoes of their conversation lingered. The unspoken bond between her and Finnick, a fragile thread stretched across the divide, held the weight of an uncertain future as she embarked on a journey back to the heart of the Capitol's machinations with the uncertainty that awaited Giselle there despite the odds.

The morning air in District 4 was crisp, carrying a bittersweet undertone as Giselle prepared to bid farewell to the district she had grown to care for. She was busy packing her stuff and cleaning the house so she didn't notice when Finnick left. In the quiet moments before her public departure, Finnick reappeared at her doorstep, a silent acknowledgment of the private farewell they needed.

Giselle, wearing a somber expression, opened the door to find Finnick standing there, a necklace in his hand. The pendant, a delicate seashell, held a story of survival from his victorious Games, and he spoke with a quiet intensity, “I want you to have this, Giselle. It's been with me through thick and thin. Maybe it'll bring you luck too.”

She took the necklace, the weight of its history mingling with the weight of the moment. “Finnick, I... Thank you.”

He smiled, a mixture of sadness and understanding in his eyes. “Consider it a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there's a glimmer of hope. A proof of our time here together once. You're strong, Giselle. Don't forget that.”

As the sun cast its gentle rays, they stood in the quiet embrace of the morning, the world outside oblivious to the intimate exchange. Finnick's gaze lingered on her face again, committing the details to memory.

Giselle, feeling the weight of impending farewells, spoke softly, “Finnick, I don't know what awaits me in the Capitol, but I want you to know that you've been a light in the darkness. Whatever happens, I won't forget you.”

He nodded, the unspoken understanding hanging in the air. “You're not alone, Giselle. Remember that, no matter where you go.”

Their lips met in a lingering kiss, a silent exchange of emotions too complex for words. The taste of both sorrow and longing lingered in the air as they pulled away, their eyes locking in a silent farewell.

As Giselle stepped back, the seashell necklace clasped around her neck, Finnick's hand lingered on hers for a moment. “Go change the Capitol from within, Giselle. I'll be watching, and I'll be waiting for your return.”

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of their connection. With one last glance, Giselle turned away, ready to face the public farewell that awaited her. The echoes of their intimate morning lingered in the air, a testament to a connection that defied the Capitol's expectations and a promise that the unspoken bond between them would endure, even in the face of separation.

As they parted, the sea echoed their unspoken vows, carrying whispers of promises that lingered in the salty breeze. The truth of their love burned bright, an unextinguishable flame that would endure even as Giselle embarked on her journey back to the Capitol.

With a final gaze, Giselle committed Finnick’s features to her memory—the curve of his jaw, the depth of his eyes, and the warmth of his touch. The sea sighed, a melancholic serenade, as the lovers embraced the fleeting seconds before the impending separation, their hearts entangled in a love that refused to be extinguished.

The platform near the trains buzzed with a mixture of gratitude and sadness, Giselle's departure from District 4 drawing a crowd of people eager to bid her farewell. The district's residents, who had come to admire and appreciate Giselle for her kindness, gathered to express their sentiments.

As she walked towards the waiting train, the sea of faces reflected a mix of admiration and genuine affection. The atmosphere was charged with emotion, and Giselle, humbled by the outpouring of support, acknowledged the crowd with a gracious nod. “People of District 4, thank you for taking care of me. You were a wonderful experience.”

However, amidst the heartfelt farewells, the peacemaker leader, Captain Rawlins, harbored resentment. He detested the connection Giselle had forged with the people of District 4, viewing it as a challenge to his authority. Mr. O'Brien, who had initially held reservations about Giselle, raised his hand in a three-finger salute—a symbolic gesture born in District 12 but now adopted by the people of the Districts as a sign of goodbye, admiration, and unity.

The gesture, meant as a farewell and a show of unity, spread like a ripple through the crowd. Others joined Mr. O'Brien in the salute, a silent tribute to Giselle's impact on their lives. However, Captain Rawlins saw it as an act of defiance, a challenge to the Capitol's authority.

In a swift and brutal response, Captain Rawlins approached Giselle with a stern expression. Without warning, he delivered a harsh slap across her face, the sound echoing through the platform. The crowd fell silent, a collective gasp rippling through those gathered.

Undeterred, Mr. O'Brien maintained the three-finger salute, a symbol of solidarity. The others, despite the shock, followed suit. Giselle, recovering from the unexpected blow, raised her hand in the salute as well, a quiet act of defiance against the oppression they faced.

With a forceful push, Captain Rawlins directed Giselle towards the waiting train, his displeasure evident. As the doors closed behind her, the three-finger salute lingered in the air—a symbol of resistance, unity, and the indomitable spirit that persisted even in the face of cruelty. The train pulled away, leaving District 4 behind, but the defiant gesture of the people remained etched in the memory of those who witnessed it, a silent promise that the spirit of rebellion endured.

As the train pulled away from District 4, Giselle found herself alone in a compartment, the rhythmic sound of the wheels on the tracks accompanying her thoughts. The sting of Captain Rawlins' slap still lingered, but Giselle refused to let it define her emotions.

She sat in contemplative silence, the scenery outside the window a blur as her mind churned with reflections on the events that unfolded on the platform. The crowd's supportive gestures, Mr. O'Donnell's salute, and the defiance that rippled through the people brought a sense of pride and purpose.

Giselle traced her fingers over the seashell necklace that hung around her neck, a silent reminder of the connection she had forged in District 4. Despite the confrontation with Captain Rawlins, she didn't shed a tear. There was no regret in her heart. Instead, a steely resolve settled within her.

In her mind, Giselle replayed the moment she raised her hand in the three-finger salute. It wasn't an act of submission; it was a declaration of identity, a testament to her resilience. She knew that Captain Rawlins, despite his hostility, understood the delicate dance he played by showing hostility to President Snow's granddaughter.

President Snow valued his family's image above all, and any display of aggression towards Giselle could lead to dire consequences for Captain Rawlins. This knowledge empowered Giselle. She realized that her actions, far from being a vulnerability, had turned the tables in her favor.

As the train continued its journey towards the Capitol, Giselle's gaze shifted from the passing landscapes to the reflection in the window. A subtle smile played on her lips, a sign of defiance and quiet strength. In this moment of solitude, Giselle embraced the truth that she had revealed to District 4 – that she was not just a Snow, but an individual with the capacity to challenge the Capitol's oppressive norms.

The train's rhythmic journey mirrored the steady beat of her resolute heart. Giselle, undeterred by the challenges ahead, prepared to face the Capitol with a newfound sense of purpose. The defiance that echoed through the platform lingered in her spirit, a flame that illuminated the path forward.

Upon her return to the opulent Snow Residence, Giselle's footsteps echoed through the grand corridors. The air was thick with the scent of privilege and power, a stark contrast to the simplicity she had experienced in District 4.

As she entered her grandfather's study, President Snow looked up from his desk, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Giselle, my dear, welcome back. I trust your visit to District 4 went according to plan?"

Giselle, wearing a mask of composure, nodded. “Yes, Grandfather. I executed your instructions precisely, as you would expect.”

Snow's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of suspicion lingering. “Good, good. The reports from District 4 indicate that you've managed to maintain order exceptionally well. The peacemakers commend your leadership.”

Unbeknownst to President Snow, the truth lay shrouded in the shadows. The peacemakers, recognizing the impact of Giselle's genuine compassion, had covered for her, creating an illusion of her strict enforcement.

With a subtle inclination of her head, Giselle acknowledged his words. “I did what was necessary to ensure the Capitol's interests were upheld in District 4.”

President Snow leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together. “You've done well, Giselle. Better than I anticipated. I see that you are learning the capitol way, the right way. In light of your success, I have another task for you.”

Giselle's heart tightened, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. “What would you have me do, Grandfather?”

A calculating gleam entered Snow's eyes. “The quarter quells are approaching, and I want you to work closely with the game makers to ensure their success. Your understanding of the Capitol's intricate dynamics will be invaluable.”

Giselle's facade remained unbroken as she replied, “Of course, Grandfather. It is an honour to finally be working with the gamemakers. I will ensure the quarter quells are executed flawlessly.”

As Snow outlined his expectations, Giselle couldn't help but reflect on the irony of her situation. Her acts of kindness in District 4, disguised as strict enforcement, had earned her grandfather's trust, paving the way for her deeper involvement in the machinations of the Hunger Games.

As she left the study, Giselle carried the weight of her dual identity – the granddaughter of President Snow and the compassionate force behind the illusion of order in District 4. The Capitol's games continued, and Giselle found herself entangled in a web of intrigue and deception that she would have to navigate with care to preserve her own humanity.

As Giselle navigated the intricacies of Capitol politics and her newly assigned role working closely with the gamemakers, she found herself in a pivotal meeting with Plutarch Heavensbee. The air in the dimly lit room carried an undercurrent of secrecy, and Giselle, ever perceptive, couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Plutarch than met the eye.

Plutarch, known for his cunning strategies, glanced up as Giselle entered the room. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes betrayed a glint of curiosity. Giselle, poised and shrewd, met his gaze with a level of scrutiny that went unnoticed by many in the Capitol.

“Giselle Snow, the granddaughter of President Snow," Plutarch acknowledged with a diplomatic nod. "Word has it that you've just returned from District 4, where your strict leadership has yielded positive results.”

Giselle, choosing her words carefully, replied, “Indeed, I did my duty as instructed. Maintaining order is crucial, especially in these times.”

Plutarch's gaze lingered, and a subtle smile played on his lips. “Order, yes. But sometimes, the Capitol's definition of order can be... restrictive. Wouldn't you agree?”

Giselle, sensing an opportunity to gauge Plutarch's intentions, replied with a measured tone, “Order is necessary, but it should not come at the cost of humanity. The people need to feel a connection, a sense of hope.”

Plutarch raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Giselle's response. “Hope, you say? An interesting perspective, especially in these trying times. The Capitol could use more individuals who understand the importance of hope.”

As the conversation unfolded, both Giselle and Plutarch danced around the unspoken truth. Giselle, suspecting that Plutarch had motives beyond the Capitol's facade, subtly tested the waters. Plutarch, in turn, observed Giselle's reactions, sensing a potential ally in the granddaughter of President Snow.

Little did they know that their paths, entwined by the complexities of the Capitol's political landscape, would lead to an alliance that could play a crucial role in the rebellion against the oppressive regime. In the shadows of secrecy, Giselle and Plutarch began a delicate dance, each harboring their own ambitions for change in a world defined by control and deception.

As Giselle delved into her responsibilities working closely with the gamemakers, her meticulous attention to detail caught the eye of Plutarch Heavensbee. Intrigued, he approached her during a break, something on her neck captured his attention—a delicate necklace with a seashell pendant.

Recognition flickered in Plutarch's eyes. Finnick, a linchpin in his covert plans for the rebellion, had garnered his favor for his potential to sway public opinion. The realization that Giselle possessed a tangible link to Finnick Odair shifted Plutarch's perception of her. He saw beyond the president's darling granddaughter facade; he saw a connection to the rebellion, a vulnerability that could be exploited for the greater cause.

Intrigued by the possibilities, Plutarch subtly approached Giselle during a break in her tasks. “Giselle Snow, a granddaughter of the Capitol, adorned with a piece of District 4's history. What does the seashell represent to you?” he inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and calculated interest.

Giselle, momentarily caught off guard, composed herself. “It's a gift, a token from District 4. A reminder of the relationships we forge in unexpected places.”

Plutarch, maintaining an air of congeniality, pressed further. “District 4, where you executed 'strict leadership' as per President Snow's orders. Interesting choice of words, considering the Capitol's narrative. Is there more to your story, Giselle?”

Giselle, cautious but quick-witted, responded, “Perhaps, but some stories are better left unsaid, don't you think?”

Plutarch, concealing his scheming thoughts behind a diplomatic smile, replied, “Indeed, my dear. Some stories unfold in the most unexpected ways.”

After the surface-level narrative, Plutarch observed Giselle closely over the next few days. He watched her interactions, noted the subtleties in her expressions, and scrutinized the moments when she believed herself unobserved. It was in these unguarded instances that Plutarch sought to uncover the truth behind the Capitol's darling granddaughter.

As he delved deeper into his surveillance, a revelation emerged—Giselle and Finnick Odair had shared more than a symbolic necklace. There was an unspoken history, a connection that transcended the Capitol's expectations. Plutarch, realizing the depth of their association, saw an opportunity to leverage Giselle's personal ties for the rebellion.

In the shadowy corridors of the Capitol, where deception and strategy intertwined, Plutarch Heavensbee, master of manipulation, set his sights on Giselle Snow as a potential asset—a pawn with a hidden history that could influence the unfolding rebellion in ways he had yet to fathom.

The connection between Giselle and Finnick, coupled with her nuanced perspective, presented an opportunity—one that could be manipulated to further the rebellion's cause. In the intricate game of political chess, Giselle became a pawn whose moves could influence the grand design Plutarch had set in motion.

In the midst of the Capitol's dazzling extravagance, Giselle found herself lost in a sea of wealth, the rhythmic pulse of the music reverberating through the grand halls. The air was thick with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the superficial conversations of Capitol elites.

As she moved gracefully through the crowd, her eyes caught the glimmering chandeliers overhead, reminiscent of the stars that adorned the night sky. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered the quiet moments beneath the District 4 sky, far, far away from the Capitol's artificial brilliance.

Seeking solace from the overwhelming decadence, Giselle stepped onto a balcony, the cool breeze carrying whispers of distant laughter and the distant hum of the city. The moon, a delicate crescent, hung in the velvet expanse above, casting a soft glow over the Capitol.

In that moment, Giselle’s thoughts drifted to Finnick, the one person who made her feel alive in a world that often felt detached. She wondered if he, too, was looking at the same moon, a silent connection bridging the gap between their separate worlds.

With a wistful sigh, Giselle whispered into the night, “I hope you’re out there, somewhere, under the same moon. No matter the distance, our hearts are still tethered by its gentle glow.”

Her attention shifted to a couple on the dance floor below—a striking resemblance caught her eye. The man's tousled hair echoed the waves of the sea, much like Finnick's, and the woman's locks bore a familiarity to Giselle's own. The couple twirled, immersed in the music, an image that sparked a quiet daydream in Giselle's mind.

In that moment, she allowed herself to envision a future where she and Finnick could openly share their love, much like the couple below. A tender smile played on her lips as she imagined a time when their connection could be celebrated without the constraints of secrecy. While that day seemed distant, Giselle held onto the hope that one day, their love would be free to dance in the open, under the same moon that witnessed their silent promises.

The room Plutarch led Giselle to was dimly lit, casting a subdued atmosphere that matched the gravity of their conversation. As they entered, the heavy door swung shut behind them, shutting out the distant hum of Capitol life. Giselle, her gaze fixed on Plutarch, felt a mixture of anticipation and unease.

"Sit, Giselle," Plutarch gestured towards a plush chair. The air was thick with the weight of the secrets about to be unveiled. Giselle complied, her posture tense yet determined.

"I imagine you have questions, concerns, and perhaps a sense that there's more to the Capitol's narrative than meets the eye," Plutarch began, his tone measured, yet carrying an undertone of sincerity. "The truth is, Giselle, there is a rebellion brewing—a movement to dismantle the Capitol's control over Panem, to end the Hunger Games and the oppression they represent."

Giselle's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and realization. “A rebellion? But how?” Her mind raced with the implications of such a revelation.

Plutarch, choosing his words carefully, continued, “Your connection to District 4's victor, Finnick Odair, is one of the key element in our plan. His influence, combined with your strategic position, can sway public opinion and help us orchestrate the downfall of the Capitol's regime.”

The weight of responsibility settled on Giselle's shoulders. “Finnick... I knew there was more to him, but a rebellion? What's at stake? What are we risking?”

Plutarch leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “Everything is at stake, Giselle. The lives of countless people, the chance for a future free from the Capitol's tyranny. The Quarter Quell is our stage, and you, my dear, are a player in this complex game.”

Giselle's mind raced, torn between the dream of a changed Panem and the realization of the dangers involved. “Finnick... What about him? I can't risk his life.”

Plutarch nodded, acknowledging the weight of her concern. “Finnick is aware, Giselle. He has chosen to be part of this rebellion, understanding the risks. We are working to get Katniss Everdeen to be the leader of the rebellion. Our Mockingjay. There have and will always be risks but the Capitol's oppression won't crumble without taking calculated chances.”

Silence hung in the room, Giselle grappling with the enormity of her role in the rebellion. Plutarch, sensing her internal struggle, spoke with unwavering conviction. “Giselle, you have the chance to be part of something extraordinary—a chance to change the course of history, to bring about a Panem free from the Games. Will you stand with us?”

The room felt charged with the weight of Giselle's decision. Her gaze met Plutarch's, and with a deep breath, she uttered, “Yes, I will stand with you. It's always been my dream to change the Capitol's ways, and if this is the way to do it, then I'm in.”

Plutarch, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes, extended his hand. “Welcome to the rebellion, Giselle Snow. Your journey is just beginning, and together, we'll strive for a Panem that is free from the Capitol's chains.”

[miaisocool]

Echoes of silence

Business man!Daemon Targaryen x College student reader!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: A very short chapter but as the story progresses it will get longer and more exciting i promise and props to @kymopoleiak for making me this collage please go follow her she is also working with me as i write the chapters. This is a chapter two to Succession in the city so if you haven't read that please go do so!! check it out i will provide a link below!

Chapter one: Succession in the city

Chapter summary: You discover yourself entangled in the intricate dance of hesitation. Your Heartbeat resonating with echoes of silence and opportunity as you prepare to take the initiative. You cant help but ponder what will this engagement of communication lead to opportunities or a chapter in your life writing itself away.

At brunch:

As you walked and talked with Mia, there was a sense of comfort held within her presence as she was your childhood friend well, not technically since you only met her your freshman year of high school. she also moved to los angeles to pursue her dream of going to college in california but she wasn't sure what to study. You talked about everything from work to relationships, the conversations you guys usually held between each other flowed easily there was never any awkward silence being held or grudges against each other.

Only the feeling of each others presence comforting the two of you there was a sense of vulnerability in you whenever it came to mia she was the friend who you would come to whenever there was something that you couldn't reveal to others she was the only one that had ever seen tears flowing from your eyes which was all so new to you since sadness was the one emotion you never truly expressed to anybody, not even yourself it was a rare occurrence whenever you would break down either due to stress, sadness or just bottled up emotions of holding everything in for so long.

The streets were filled with horns honking, shoes clacking against the pavement the cool breeze swept your hair into your face, you tucked it behind your ear with a thoughtless, practiced motion, as if you'd done it a thousand times before. Your high heels clacked against the concrete as you and mia walked to your favorite brunch spot that remind you of a similar brunch spot in new york,

During your junior year of high school where your ex boyfriend took you out for a first date you were young, vulnerable and thoughtless. He was whom and what your whole world revolved around you pushed all of your friends away to make room for him causing your social skills to go down although you were very social and a great conversationalist and just a good people person in general. You felt like you were bound to him, the late night phone conversations, talking about wedding plannings and how many kids you guys would have, where you guys would settle down and his answer was usually italy which was a answer you didn't agree with since california was your mission ever since you were a young girl you felt as if he was the only guy you could ever put your trust in.

Even years after the breakup there was slight tinges of heartbreak pulling on your heart strings as you still remembered the contact of his touch the way his calloused fingers from playing guitar for you until you fell asleep would graze up and down against your soft thighs the skin to skin hard and soft contact felt comforting to you, you guys were complete opposites but there was something that spiritually connected you guys together you couldn't remember his face though it was hard to get it out when your heart yearned for him.. But you were alone now not hopeless, alone, broken but you were free, alone, still young and truly yourself.

The restaurant was your comfort spot the warmth of the sun glazed on your face bringing out your dilated pupils as you thought of the man that came up to you in the coffee shop last week. The outside fan blowing a slight coldness to your face fighting against the sunny heat of california, dishes were clanking against each other as waiters were scurrying around the restaurant as if they were rats from ratatouille helping to serve the rush of customers that came in. The modern black leathered chairs bringing out the restaurants not very vibrant atmosphere gave you a weird tinge of discomfort people walking near you and mia as you guys sat down outside listening to the birds chirp and cars pass by. You felt a knot slowly untangle in your throat as you let words flow out your mouth "I mean.. i dont know.. should i call him?" you asked under your breath as you fiddled with the glass you were holding the question hung in the air until, mia took a sip of her water. Ice clinking against the glass and then she brought back the glass down to the table "i mean whats the worse that could happen?" she said nonchalantly. Mia was somewhat right whats the worse that could happen but what could go right and if it did end up going up right what would happen?

"I dont know.. im just scared"

"Of?"

"I dont know.."

"See? you dont even know whats holding you back," mia shook her head at you as she scrolled through her phone before putting it facing down on the table again

"Sometimes, it's easier to do nothing rather than put yourself out there," you whispered the words catching the back of your throat.

"Sometimes it's ok to be the first to reach out" mia gritted her teeth in frustration as her eyes drooped low in dissatisfaction

you nodded your head cause you knew she was right

You take out the business card from your wallet, and carefully dial the number into your phone, trying to steady your somewhat shaking hand. The ringing sounds of the phone echoes in your ear as you look and make eye contact with mia as she takes a spliff of her cigarette between her cherry tinted lipstick staining thumbing the print left by her lipstick as she dusts the idle ash as her eyes connected with yours with a mere look. You feel your heart beating fast as you await to hear someone's voice on the other end.

After what felt like an eternity, the seconds seem to stretch on for an eternity before someone finally answers, and you can hear the relief wash over you as you hear, "Thank you for calling Targaryen Law and associates you’ve reached Alexa how can i assist you today?” Her voice resonated with assurance, triggering a vivid flashback to your own days in customer service. Memories flooded back from when you were just 18, working at a local grocery store. You remembered the feeling of dread each time the phone rang, the pressure to handle customer inquiries. Alexa's composed demeanor stirred those long-buried recollections, reminding you of the challenges you once faced in a similar role you didn’t enjoy it but your coworkers that got along with you made you enjoy it. you had to make a living if you wanted to end up successful or not homeless at least.

With a deep breath, you manage to clear your throat and free it from the tense knot that had formed there. The echoes of the impatient silence you heard on the phone still ring in your ears, causing a dull ache deep within your chest. You feel as if the silence itself had taken physical form.

“Yeah hi this is kiara i was hoping to speak with Mr Targaryen? is he available by any chance?”

"I understand your urgency. Let me see if I can arrange a brief moment for you. Please hold for a moment while I try to get Mr. Targaryen on the line."

You place the phone away from you as you fiddled with it in with your right hand waiting for what you assumed to be his assistant or one of his employees to say a response back quickly as if you knew the next words that were going to come out her mouth but that was a lie you didn't know her at all you wanted to, you longed for the mystery everyone had.. the mystery the people in Los Angeles held in his aura peaked your curiosity.. You take a few deep breaths to release the tension from your shoulders. As you look up, the light from the sun reflecting off the glass buildings surrounding you blinds you for a moment. A cool gust of wind blows past, bringing in the smell of flowers and city life. The sounds of honking cars, people chatting, and the hum of the city surround you, but you feel disconnected from it all being seconds or minutes away daemons presence as you were being transferred right there and on the phone with you knowing you had to take initiative.

“Daemon Targaryen speaking.”

As you heard Daemon Targaryen’s, dominant voice, a palpable sense of authority washed over you sending adrenaline throughtout your heart slowly beating at a faster tempo his words, deep and commanding, resonated through the phone, leaving no room for uncertainty. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of respect and awe, tinged with a hint of intimidation. It was as though his voice had a magnetic pull, drawing you into his sphere of influence. His confident tone left an indelible impression.

You found yourself in shock by the way his voice flowed through your ears, each word dripping with authority and confidence. It wasn’t just the words he spoke, but the cadence, the resonance that seemed to echo in the very core of your being his words resonating with every chord coming from the music that was blasting in the restaurant. In that moment, you realized you were not just hearing a voice…

you were experiencing a commanding presence that stirred something deep within you.

“Yeah hi this is kiara… you gave me you’re Business card last week in the coffee shop i’m not sure if you remember” In a moment of panic, you found your voice, though it trembled slightly, breaking the silence that followed his powerful presence although he was over the phone and had no physical contact with you showed you how vulnerable you could be in his presence.

“Ah yes kiara i remember you, i gave you my card since i knew once how it was to be working on those weird marketing projects”

His voice had a magnetic pull, echoing into your ears It was a voice of empathy and softness, yet there was still an underlying intensity to it, as if it was trying to hold back the strength of his power. It was a voice that commanded attention and respect, yet it was also a voice that invited tenderness and compassion.

“yeah… studying marketing is weird.. it’s just that i’m struggling with it you know?”

You felt like there was barbed wires wrapped around your throat as words left your tongue when you made contact with the man who had higher power, held such a confident demeanor over you which is what possibly could’ve attracted you to call him he wasn’t ordinary like everyone else but he carried this mystery about his self and it felt like you had the opportunity to break his skin open and crawl inside his body confronting every secret he was hiding the mysteries or grudges he held against the strangers he would come across the interactions he had with a object or just a human in general made your mind wander with curiousity.

“Im available tomorrow since all my meetings were canceled due to.. god knows what.”

 his voice was like thunder sharp and commanding a touch of amusement in it, a glimmer of light that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. His words held power, but there was a playful note in his voice, as if he were letting you in on a secret that nobody else ever had their ears opened to.

“My companys address is on the back of the card how does three pm work for you?” His deepened voice that sounded like silk against your touch intensified with curiosity that had peaked

“uh… yeah! i can meet that time at three pm tomorrow” You said overlapping the noise of the resturants music so mia could hear you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as mias eyes widened in surprise and her lips curves into a smile as she patted you on the forearm, her actions bringing back all of your senses as the man’s voice of authority and confidence had blocked out everything from the world and made you feel like there was nothing else in the world except his presence or yours. The thought made your heart race with anticipation. It was a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time

“I’m glad to hear that, tomorrow give me a call when you’re here” It was a voice that demanded attention, and you were powerless to resist.

His voice combined with that sentence sent adrenaline to coarse throughout your veins. slowly coming back to your senses as you take a look at the brunch spot you guys had been at for the past hour and a half the aromas of cooked foods such as eggs, toast, sausages and variety’s of different lunch and breakfast sandwiches.

The not so vibrant interior comforting your skin as you made contact with it slowly turning into a cozy sense of home the home you had back in new york the warmth of the sunlight beaming off of the windows onto your face showing all of your features to your dilated pupils and exposed pores, porcelain skin.

Unfortunately the brunch spot wasn’t in a quiet neighborhood away from the city unlike the other spots you were used to in new york you could hear horns honking the sounds of people chattering and laughing somewhat muffling the conversation you held with mia and the conversation you held not too long ago with the man.. Daemon..

Daemon targaryen

You remembered from his card that he previously handed to you

The brunch spot was perfect for chatting and enjoying the presence of loved ones.

Perhaps even daemon.

if you dared to allow yourself the possibility. But deep down, you knew that was your delusions getting to you. It was best not to set yourself up for disappointment, to keep a clear head and enjoy the moment for what it was nothing more, nothing less. As you sat there, you let out a deep breath, watching the steam rise from your lips and melt into the air around you. For now, you were content to simply relax and let the world pass you by, taking comfort in the knowledge that, in this moment, everything was exactly where it should be.

[freakenomenon]

Why do you like Ellen so much? /Genq

jesus christ this is a loaded question uuhhhh well. first of all. when i first drew ellen after reading the story and watching her playthrough. my immediate thought was "shes the nicest, i like her the most" and " i feel so bad for her " which. is generally the most you can get out of someone these days when talking about ellen. but because my stupid autistic ( not in a derogatory sense, i am autistic ) ass couldnt just fit in and leave it at "poor ellen!!" my brain latched onto her. and then i realized, shes the only character ( in the game ) that they didnt go out of their way to make an even more terrible person. which made her unique from the others. i found that interesting. and then i started noticing all the holes in her character. at least in the game. picking out, plucking away and putting my criticism of her treatment in the game, especially with how they handled her assault story, really kind of. made me attach to her? because, while i did find a lot that i thought was rather unnecessary.

i found it much more fun for me to explore the obscure bits of her character and flesh them out more. which made my attachment to her even stronger. and after finding out about the manual, i found more aspects of her character that i resonated with. its hard for me to explain, but ill put it in bullet points.

im black myself, and even within the flaws of harlan ellison trying to make ,, SOME kind of statement back them with her character as a black woman. i think that aspect of her ( growing up in "the ghetto", having to deal with racism even as a little girl, having nobody to attach to in the end except for the people who dont even view you as a person outside of your body and skin color. ) made her more. relatable to me.

her sexual assault story was something i latched onto, finding solace in a character who also struggles with attachment due to sexual trauma. and i found it cathartic to be able to project my hypersexuality onto a character who i view as,, kind of in the same pit as me

she struggles with her arrogance, ego, being blunt and often times being rude or offensive without meaning to be. and even sometimes with the intention of doing so without realizing the level of what you're saying. and struggling with social connection in general despite being labeled as one of "the best friends a person could have" which i also resonated with, as an autistic person.

lesbianism. not even gonna sugarcoat it here i want this woman BAD. i dont know man something in my brain saw this older woman with emotional attachment issues who would definitely not treat me the best and began nesting and laying an alien parasite between the slimy spots of grey matter that grew into a monstrous beast that would take over my body and force me to draw her putting cigarettes down peoples throats. I NEED IT. I NEED IT IMA EAT IT AHHHHH. i also just think shes really pretty, thats my wife we are married and she loves me and not you she loves ME.

I DONT KNOWW. I DONT KNOW MAN, THE AUTISM JUST LET HER CHOKE ME WITH THE CREVICE OF HER ELBOW AND IM STILL HERE MAN. I CANT BREATHE MAN.

i also feel like its important to note that even within male / man focused books, shows, movies, media in general. ive always been more drawn to the female characters. no matter how expanded on their stories are. so that also probably played a role in my attachment to her. i. feel like even all this isnt enough to express how much i like her and why. i just. hhghgdsjhgfdghjhgf eelleeennn,,,,,,, thats it thats the tldr; ellen

[goldenempyrean]

Making Up

〚 Notes - s6x10 rewrite but with Carina having the flu instead of food poisoning because why not :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Carina Deluca x Maya Bishop 〛

〚 Summary - When Carina gets sick during their fight. Desperate to patch things up between them, Maya cant help but want to make sure she's okay. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2160 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Maya took a deep breath as she held her wrist just in front of the unfamiliar hotel door as she hesitated. Miranda had told her this was room Carina had been staying in since she moved out after their fight. The Italian had only just asked her for space a few days ago but this wasn’t just for a catch up. 

Miranda had called her when she had been driving back from a call in the Aid Car with Jack to let her know that Carina had gone home from work sick. Carina never got sick; it just didn’t happen. For this to happen now, while they were arguing, whilst they were both sleeping alone. It was so unfair. 

Pushing aside her doubts, Maya gathered her courage and rapped her knuckles against the door, the sound echoing softly in the hallway. She waited anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest, until finally, she heard shuffling footsteps approaching from inside. 

The door opened slowly, revealing Carina standing there. She looked pale and exhausted, her normally vibrant eyes dulled with illness. Maya’s heart sank at the sight of her, her worry deepening. Carina’s expression hardened as she saw Maya standing there, her brows furrowing in irritation. 

“What are you doing here?” Carina asked, her voice strained and hoarse from illness. She leaned against the doorframe, her body swaying slightly, “I told you I wanted space.” 

Maya hesitated, her concern battling with the tension in the air. She stepped forward cautiously, her voice soft and tentative. 

Carina's eyes flickered with a mix of exhaustion and frustration. She pushed herself off the doorframe, her movements sluggish, catching herself on the frame to stop herself from stumbling, "I'm fine, Maya. Just- just go away." She thrown forward with a deep, raspy cough, both hands resting on her knees as she doubled over. Carina shook her head weakly and stumbled backwards when Maya reached out for her, “Don’t.” She rasped before quickly heading into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

Maya stood there, frozen for a moment, her heart heavy with worry. She clenched her fists in frustration. All she wanted to do was help. She knew Carina well enough to recognize when she was putting up a brave front, and it was clear that she was far from fine. She knew she couldn't just leave her alone in this state. 

"Carina, please, let me help you," The blonde pleaded softly, her voice laced with worry. 

“I told you to go away Maya!” Came the congested whine from behind the bathroom door. The firefighters eyebrows knitted together as she patiently stood outside the bathroom door. Sure, it was unlocked, that was obvious from the handle alone. Theoretically she could enter at any point, but she’d already broken enough of her wife’s trust, and they were finally beginning to patch things back up. 

“Well believe it or not we’re married and I still care about you.” Maya mumbled, her head resting on the door. It stood between them, a barrier not just of wood and metal, but of emotions, trust, and fragile reconciliation. 

✧.* 

After a few minutes, she could hear the pattering of water as the shower began to run. Maya sighed and went to go sit down on the edge of the bed. She stayed there for a moment, sitting in the silence before the thin trail of steam escaping from the beneath the door had caught her attention.  

“Darlin- Carina, look I know you don’t want me to fuss but can you please just let me in?” Maya murmured, heading across the room to open a window, “You sitting is this much steam cannot be good for you.” 

There was a moment of silence before another rough, chesty rough rattled out from within the bathroom - this time lasting much longer than earlier - making Maya wince at the sound of it.  

Carina gave an exhausted sigh from the inside the bathroom, her head dropping into her hands in defeat, “Can you please bring me my water bottle..?”  She croaked out, her poor voice sounding absolutely battered. 

The blonde turned back to the bed, looking around before noticing the pink bottle sitting on the floor beside the nightstand. She quickly picked it up and headed back to the bathroom door, pushing it open to let a wave of hot steam come flooding out. 

God - how was she breathing in there with all that? 

Through the thick steam it was hard to make out the scene but what she saw inside made her heart break a little. Carina was on the floor, leaning back weakly against the wall. Her wavy brunette hair was now messy, damp and stuck to her forehead uncomfortably whilst beads of sweat ran down the rest of her pale-olive skin.  

Maya pretended not to notice the half empty plastic water bottle well within the Italian’s reach, instead focusing on the few dozen crumpled up tissues which spilled from the trashcan and littered the floor. Somewhere amongst the discarded papers was the empty box they used to belong to. It was clear Carina had been in here for some time prior to her arrival.  

Honestly her heart clenched at the sight of her wife. She knew that if she hadn’t turned up on her own, Carina would’ve sat alone and endured this misery all by herself without a second thought. She was way too stubborn to call Maya herself, especially when they were fighting. 

For a moment, Maya just pulled herself up onto the counter, sitting quietly. She desperately wanted to just pull Carina into her arms, to apologise for the 10th time and hold her close. But they had to do this right if everything was going to go back to the way it was. Baby steps. That’s what they had go take. 

Eventually she couldn’t bare the way Carina’s head seemed to bob forward, her eyes barely open as her cheeks burned bright with fever. At this point the steam was probably doing more harm than good. She was going to overheat at this rate. 

“You think we can turn this off for a little bit? This room is too hot to be good for you.” Maya suggested, sliding off the counter to turn the shower off. 

But Carina whined a little, sniffling a thick saturated sound, “This is the only way I can breathe.” She mumbled, reaching forward to grab some toilet paper to attempt at blowing her nose with. It didn’t help much. Her sinuses were too blocked for it to provide any actual relief. 

“That bad?” Maya murmured in sympathy, she wished she could help somehow. Suddenly her eyes lit up a little as she headed back to the door where she’d left her bag. She grabbed it and came to sit back down on the floor beside Carina. The brunette gave her wife a confused look as she routed around for a bit before making a small, satisfied sound as she produced a small cylinder. 

“Try this.” She handed it to her. Carina squinted as she tried to read the label, “Its decongestant Car’, it should help clear you up a bit.” Maya explained and nodded as her wife used it. 

The Italian blinked rapidly, watery tears prickling her eyes. She hadn’t expected the menthol to be so strong. The only issue was, neither had her nose and she quickly pawed at it as the burning itch grew, she knew she was going too- 

Maya quickly thrust a towel into her hands just in-time for the brunette to duck forwards with a fit of uncontrollably, messy sneezes. Carina sniffled thickly; her whole head felt like it was spinning. There was no point trying to act neat and tidy now, so she just blew her nose into the fabric before slowly pulling her head up with a groan, “That was disgusting Maya Bishop. What even is it that thing.” She shot a watery glare at the decongestant before a stray sneeze interrupted her. 

The blonde couldn’t help but chuckle, “It cleared you out, didn’t it?” She reached out a hand to tentatively rub her wife’s back, feeling relieved when the action wasn’t rejected. 

Carina rolled her eyes just a little, “Sì… it did.” She turned away from Maya to catch a deep cough into her elbow, doing her best to keep the disappointment out of her voice when Maya’s phone lit up with a text from Jack, “Do you not need to go back to work?” She titled her head when the blonde simply silenced her phone. 

“I am working.” Maya shrugged, the familiar crease in her brow returning when she realised Carina had stopped sweating, but her cheeks were still just as flushed, “You’re dehydrated, you need to drink.” She ignored the Italian’s fussing as held the pink bottle from earlier to her lips, encouraging her to drink generously. 

“You know flu season is bad this year. It’d be irresponsible to leave you alone at the moment.” She concluded, standing up to grab a clean towel which she ran under the cold tap for a moment before wringing it out and coming back down to her wife’s side. 

Maya gently dabbed the cool cloth against Carina’s cheek, the relief it was providing was clear. She eventually let it rest on her forehead, before making her finish the rest of the water bottle. The firefighter knew all she could really do was make her comfortable, she could take her to Grey Sloan just to be cautious but they both knew the best the hospital could do was give her fluids and tell her to rest.  

She’d just have to ride it out here. 

Of course, Maya would give anything to make “here” their bedroom at home. Not some stupid unfamiliar hotel room, but she only had herself to blame for that. She wished she could turn back time and erase the hurtful words exchanged, but all she could do now was be there for her wife. 

Taking a deep breath, Maya decided to make the best of the situation. She adjusted the towel on Carina's forehead before reaching out to squeeze her hand gently. She hadn’t expected it but there was a little squeeze in return too. 

After a few minutes of soft silence, Carina tried to speak but instead was stopped by her voice catching in her throat, sending her into a rattling coughing fit, wracking her body forward with spasms as it tried to clear itself of the congestion in her lungs. 

Maya's heart clenched at the sight, her worry deepening as she watched her wife struggle. 

"Hey, easy there," Maya murmured, moving closer to support Carina. She rubbed her back soothingly, waiting for the fit to pass. When it finally did, Carina slumped against her, her breath ragged and shallow. 

"That cough really doesn’t sound great. We should probably get you off this floor," Maya decided before beginning to clear up the mess of tissues on the floor, ignoring her wife’s protests that it was her job to do that. 

She simply shook her head in disagreement. Once Maya was done, she carefully helped Carina to her feet, offering out a hand as she led her from the bathroom. Carina's steps were shaky, and Maya could feel the heat radiating from her wife's body. Once they reached the bed, she helped Carina settle in, fluffing the pillows behind her and tucking the covers around her. 

“Do you need anything? I can leave you alone if you just wanna sleep.” The blonde asked, unsure of what to do next. In any other circumstance, she would’ve climbed into bed beside her without a second thought but now she wasn’t so sure. 

Carina's breaths came out in shallow gasps as she sank into the bed, her body feeling heavy and weak. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mix of frustration and fear bubbling within her. She turned her gaze up towards Maya, her hoarse voice barely a whisper, "I don't want to be alone again.” 

This fight had had them both feeling alone, discarded and unheard. But now they were moving past it, taking measures to fix the damage they’d done. This was a step in the right direction.  

Carina sniffled again, the watery tears falling down her cheeks, “Can you stay just until I asleep please..?” 

Maya felt her heart ache at the vulnerability in Carina's eyes. She nodded softly, brushing away a tear from her wife's cheek. "Of course, love. I'll stay right here." She whispered, slipping into bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around Carina, pulling her close and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead 

They lay there in the quiet of the room, the only sound the soft rhythm of Carina's breathing. Maya held her tightly, providing the love and comfort that Carina needed right now. 

She knew she’d have to get back to work eventually. Jack had been texting her and soon they’d be worried for where she’d got to. But for now, Maya was settled just to watch over her wife for just five more minutes. 

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[jemmo]

ok. here’s some of my immediate, rambly reactions to eps 3 and 4 of t8s.

first off, i was kinda nervous the entire day. it’s been a while since ive had butterflies like this waiting for a show to air, most recently was the second season of utsukushii kare, but the level it was today was rivalling waiting on a friday for a new bad buddy ep. and the fact this show managed to put me into that state within less than a week is frankly insane, and shows just how down bad i am for it. all that to say, i so soooooo didnt this want this to be a case of me overinflating how good those first 2 eps only for the follow up to not encapsulate the same feelings. all signs were pointing to that not being the case, but still, when you hyperfixate, you kinda get nervous hoping that thing lives up to everything youve built it up to be. and these eps absolutely did that. they didnt just live up to expectations, but are managing to give me scenes and story beats and emotions i just cant predict at this point, and i love that. just how like this budding relationship feels new and unpredictable to jihyun and jaewon, the show is like that for me to watch, and it does wonders for giving me the same butterflies the two are feeling.

but with that unpredictability comes a kind of uncertainty, not knowing whats gonna happen at any turn, and i cant express how much i adore that about these two eps. with the kind of story theyre building, with jaewon’s mental health struggles and his past, with jihyuns nerves and growth in an unfamiliar environment, itd be so easy to make their relationship a shared place of comfort and certainty and familiarity for each other. that place of refuge. and while i feel like that’s what it’ll eventually become, i love that still, in these early stages, the relationship feels so uncertain and almost not guaranteed. it makes you still hang onto every look and touch and word even though theyve already kissed. something about it doesnt feel pre-determined, which is a feeling i get with so many other bl’s when you know, a majority of the time, they’ll get together and have a happy ending. that doesnt feel guaranteed here (even though i pray for that to be the case). instead, it feels like im watching two individuals that are actually having to make a conscious effort in order for this relationship to become something. they have to work for that certainty. and that kind of knife’s edge, it could break at any moment, hanging on every interaction is packed with that specific kind of nervous exhilaration that is so fucking accurate and true to the start of relationship. i seriously cant describe how perfectly they managed to encapsulate that feeling and convey it with such authenticity. its actually ridiculous. seeing those moments, when they’re talking and skirting so closely around the topic of what exactly they are, when then their fingers brush and you are begging for one of them to make the tiniest of moves, to take hold, to make that kind of a statement no matter how small or silent it is, it makes your heart race, bc its new and unknown and in that moment its like your insides are screaming, begging you to embed this sensation into your veins bc you dont know when the next night like this, when the midnight chill and the dusky sky and the hints of alcohol in your system will mix right and make you feel so hedonistically giddy as you do right now at the feeling of that person by your side. and the way they both chase that sensation, how visibly happy it makes them, a craving for each other and that shared thrill only they know, it is just so unbelievably intoxicating to watch. 

i am a person that struggles to sit down and focus. im watching tv but im also knitting, im playing a game but also listening to a podcast. im that person that has to overwhelm my senses to feel sated. this is the first time in a while that ive sat down to watch something and nothing stole my focus, i wasnt distracted, my mind didnt wander. i wasnt concious of the other people walking around my house or the traffic outside or the temperature of the room, i was just fully engrossed. i let every ebb and flow of the scenes and story take me on this path it was guiding me down. and again, thats how they feel. when jihyun and jaewon are alone together, everything else fades away to this dull buzz of background nothingness, they become engrossed in each other, and just as the story pulls me, they pull each other. there’s a constant back and forth, an exchange of setting and challenging boundaries that i adore. when youre getting into a scene, you dont know whos gonna be the one pushing the other. you have jihyun being more forward by the han river, teaching jaewon to draw, then you have jaewon going after jihyun at the library, you have him meeting jihyun after work only for jihyun to ask him to stay and have a drink. its like with every interaction, theyre both asking ‘is this ok?’ and the other asks ‘can we go further?’. i wanna make a whole other post about the nature of their gap in age and experience and all that brings and also how the expectations it brings are subverted, but for now i just wanna say how great it is that there is this balance, and especially that jihyun is allowed to be confident and brave and forward with jaewon, and jaewon is allowed to be reserved and giddy around jihyun. those are experiences so often reserved for the elder and the younger in a relationship, respectively, so to let jihyun be the leader and jaewon the follower, swept up by his feelings and attraction is so refreshing and plays so well into the kind of growth we’re gonna see from these characters and that they need, jihyun growing out of this shy country mouse persona to be more forward and bold, and jaewon being allowed to drop his mask of bravado and letting him be a young person that doesn’t have to be in control of everything. we see that one of his main pressures is the concept of the future, of how simultaneously wide and full of possibilities but also narrow and predetermined that future is for him. he talks about being afraid to lose the comfort of a microcosm like the army of school, even though they are places where he isnt necessarily happy. and then in comes jihyun, something not predetermined, something unexpected, and he takes control of jaewons future in a way by opening up this new path for him. he’s taking some of that stress from jaewon’s shoulders by being an equal and responsive partner in this journey, and offers the chance for jaewon to have something certain in his future, only if he too will work for it. only too if he tries something new, realises that its not too late, and that the anxiety and fear and uncertainty that comes with it may be worth it. bc it may not be guaranteed, but to try instead of never knowing is the only way he can make this possible.

tldr; this show is breath-taking, and im gonna be emo about it for a very long time

[eofoc]

day 15: music

I WAS WAITING FOR THIS DAY SO BADLY. GGRRGAUUUGH

each of my OCs has a playlist on youtube: Ange ✧ Yuze ✧ Juliet ✧ Roselyn ✧ Orifiel ✧ Mischa

since i think it would be way too long if i elaborated on all of them in one post (lol) i have decided to do ange and yuze :]

lyrics + ramblings about them under the cut!!! be prepared this is another embarassingly long post

YUZE

"With the salt that moves in the midsummer sea, will this face still be my own?"

boy why you so identity issue? anyways yeah since he has nothing to cling onto (his parents who were the only connection he had to his birth country are gone and he cant even remember their names) he kind of just. Yeah. boy. also i like the sea connection Yuze is just so seacoded to me

"I’m a monster who was born into this best, most beloved world An obedient puppet tossed out into an unpleasant era A spider who spins red thread, a hunter who was trapped as expected Give me a reason to live with indifference, doctor"

fits very well with him being a vampire (and everyone knowing about this fact) which certainly Does make him feel like a monster. "an obedient puppet" with how the adults around him used him esp. when he was at Eligioto's... i mean yeah.... im so sad my little guy

"A spider released outside, a batter who got a strike as expected It hurts so much to keep my expression composed; Give me some medicine, doctor"

just the "it hurts so much to keep my expression composed" im wahh WAHHH i hate him...yeah anyways the bottling everything up but in the apathetic and cold and composed calm way...........

"So, reciting a nonsense spell, chewing my fingernails, I was waiting I called out an incoherent name"

this one just makes me sad. "an incoherent name" hes calling out to all the people he already lost in his life. its not just one name. okay whatever honestly

"Without anyone holding any expectations for me, the raise of the curtain approaches The curtain has finally been raised on the theatre show of life, without a single audience member"

the way both him and Ange can relate to how people hold no expectations towards them? im a bit sickly i hope i die something is wrong with them. also the loneliness he feels again... not a single audience member...

"Painfully unpleasant, come and receive this punishment for loving me! I absolutely detest the “me” that you love Listen to this selfishness of mine!"

(slaps his head) this boy can fit so much self-hate in him. also he does feel like it would be very selfish to have any emotions for Ange... well and he also thinks that Ange absolutely hates that he has any feeling for him and Yuze is just a burden essentially (where did you get that from)

"I want to lose that “borrowed” expression of mine already It’s gradually reaching its limit, this world where you exist"

i want to lose that borrowed expression of mine already... his always calm and composed expression that hes forced to maintain..okay

"You'll only waste your tears on your palm Why did I even think of doing this?"

Ange "ill drink up all the tears you gave me" vs Yuze "youll only waste the tears on your palm" so basically Ange who loves Yuze no matter what happens and always clinging to him even if it hurts vs Yuze who thinks those feelings are a burden and a waste

"Ah, I wish you'd understand Forgetting you is no joke Ah, just stop, I don't want to bring back my past Don't look for me anymore"

forgetting you is no joke... dont look for me anymore... why are they LIKE THIS JUST TALK TO EACH OTHER however you can see yeah Yuze has a really hard time letting go of the past

"Lighting up the darkness, the stars are caressing my eyelids I hear some nostalgic voices, and I’m feeling really lonely From beyond the darkness, I hear someone calling me I’m collecting the left-behind stardust within my own palms"

wah... he knows the pain of losing someone he cares for WAY too well. so he wants to be left behind by everyone so they wont be hurt when hes gone. something is really wrong with him

"All alone, I remembered laughing with you For some reason, my emotions just kept on making noise"

childhood memories of when he still had friends and people close to him..okay.. "for some reason, my emotions kept on making noise" he is not used to feeling much at all becuase he represses so much idgaf

"If it was just a shallow nightmare, I could forgive everything Everything lightly and gently falls For some reason I’ve grown lonely"

hahaha when he was younger and his parents died and he was all alone he used to pray all the time it was just a nightmare and he would wake up soon. that did Not happen. haha. Okay

"Do the candles look forward to being used? Enjoy bidding adieu, adieu? Every word I have saved for you came out wrong afterwards So I spoke no more"

he also sees himself as only a tool to be used... also the way that he doesnt know his way with words and often comes off as too blunt or rude when he doesnt mean to #autism yesss king lets just give up on everything ever

"Must be great being you Power comes as second nature Must feel amazing to be longed for, longed for"

i dont have much to say here. i hope i die. why is he like this. power comes as second nature... he never felt like anything is in his control so he envies the siblings a lot... little does he know they dont have SHIT in control either. lol

ANGE

"I daringly wield that kitsch rubi on my own worn-out name I have become so terrifying down to my core that I could defeat nobility How do I look like now? Am I unsightly? Of course I am"

the "am i unsightly / of course i am" line makes me so ill. have i mentioned that his how hates him because he reminds her of his father and yes his looks do play into that. his green eyes especially "my worn out name" my poor little guy who thinks NOTHING about himself and hates the family he's been born into

"Neither sweet words nor a smile will work; if I start to run, I’ve become a beast"

this reminds me of his whole father situation (who ermm killed people) and how if Ange acts even a little out of the line or lets himself drop the harmless act he Will be ostracized by people and they will compare him to his father even more

“All I did was acknowledging my own whines Of course, I couldn’t even have a proper fight with you"

weeheehee he has never stood up to his mom abusing him.. heeh..haha... (collapses to the floor)

"What's wrong with loving you I'll tie you, not let anyone to touch you This must be fate, right?"

thanks god Yuze is a sore loser but the thought that he'd ever fall for someone else HAUNTS Ange. hes just mental like that. he 100% thinks they're soulmates and kills himself 5 times in his mind imagining him with anyone else

"I will drink up all the tears that you gave me You gave me a sweet lie that “it’s ok to be a coward”, have I been able to escape?"

THE WORST LINE EVER MADE. Ange thinks of himself as a huge coward in general so to have someone tell him that its okay to be afraid and its ok to protect yourself and its ok to run away sometimes... hes down Bad im afraid. "have i been able to escape" mostly relating to how he cannot let Yuze go

"Is this called 'I loved you'? Where I struggle to cling to you What's wrong with killing myself, me who you hate?"

can someone tell him suibaiting is not the key to making your boy best friend like you back "is this called i loved you" the past tense i am SO sick. the things they couldve had

"I’ve made it this far chasing your footsteps I’ll break free from this curse and spell"

see this is fun because it can be both about his family (always chasing after Juliet and her achievments, following her footsteps - the curse and spell are his family) or Yuze (hes been chasing after him for so long because he wants to reach him, the curse being their misunderstanding) weeewooo whhheeheehe

"What’s the purpose of this worthless, meaningless pride May seem unaware, but is aware of everything"

fits perfectly with how hes abandoned his pride and loves playing stupid/unaware around people to get to know more info...

"Whatever pains me, whatever saddens me, what was it that I wanted to say? I walked through a town that doesn't know you."

THIS IS SUCH AN ANGE SONG ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY... especially regarding his relationship towards Yuze.. the pain of missing someone and grieving what you couldve had.... the knowledge that the person you once loved has probably became an entirely different person that you dont know anymore.. dude whatever

"The wind blows, the sky's far away. Ah, with me having stopped somewhere, I'm scared to get to know you whom I don't know. I'm in love with a long-dead sunflower."

"im in love with a long-dead sunflower" AAJHJHBHB DUDE DUDE . DUDE. anyways yeah . once again wow Yuze has changed so much haha hasnt he (got severely traumatized) yes the long-dead sunflower is about him too i hope i die

"The shaky pleasantries and talks about nothing I've never asked for them I just wanted that gentle experience, so that I too could be kind It's all alright, all is well"

he hates high society but only really because of his father and the reputation he got.. hes jealous of Juliet whos very well liked by people and they do treat her with a gentleness that isnt extended to him

"Even today, it's another overwhelming day that makes me go crazy Even today, I'm once again laughing at my dreadful face After I have soaked myself in those sweet words, Will anyone come for me?"

"after i have soaked myself in those sweet words / will anyone come for me" referencing how much he focuses on pleasing people because he wants to appear a certain way in his eyes.. and he very secretly hopes to get some of that praise back...

""Mayday!" Even if you realize it's me, You don't need to hold me in your arms again Hey "Mayday!" If you realize it's me, Will you kindly laugh at me once more?"

im so SICKKK i sometimes forget that both ange and yuze were fucking. like. 10 when they last saw each other. like LMAOOO they have both changed so so much (for way worse) and have gone through so many things and have became basically. unrecognizable when it comes to their personalities...ok i really dgaf though . i think theyre both shocked at how much theyve changed. ange who remembers yuze as this shy but bright and kind kid whod always cheer him up suddenly meeting Whatever the fuck is this

"Wishing for what I lacked, I came face to face with a version of "me" that was nothing like myself And yet I kept going, Even through the dark night that made my head swim"

WISHING FOR WHAT I LACKED..god hes so. okay we GET IT!!! you HATE YOURSELF!! the inferiority complex goes crazy ..... he lies and tries to overcompensate so so much that he doesnt even recognize the person he is anymore

It’s trash, it’s rags The blood leaking from your heart held anger only from myself.

they both hate themselves so much. lol. lmao evem. they make me so sickly like just get normal...

‘What is it I lacked?’ After I asked God, the arrow of a fallen angel struck to silence me. I knew it from the start. I was putting on a show that I'd forgotten. I’m holding close the sword you gave me.

he feels like he just puts on a show ... also the "what is it i lacked" portion makes me a bit sick its so angecore. hes angry and feels like a lot of stuff happenign to him is unfair and like hes Right!!!!!

Why is that so? Clinging to my heart is a loneliness not unlike the silence of a winter night

angeyuze and the theme of winter...teehee..........also hes so lonely can someone save him Please

Surely, you were watching the stars alone in all your ignorance, still paying no heed to me, my eyes bloodshot.

also crazy angeyuze core. ange feeling like despite all yuze still doesnt make an effort to understand how he feels or to get closer...ouch. its a bit funny because like girl. YOU are the one constantly hiding behind a smiling mask and being like nooo hehe im fine :p

[maccreadysbaby]

The Big Leagues™︎

part four : hancock

| deacon | maccready | gage | deacon (2) | butch |

>> the big leagues™︎ is a series of origin stories that express my takes on the pasts of the companions. there is no sole survivor included in these. please do not regard these as canon, and no characters belong to me, all belong to bethesda and the writers of fallout four

! TW ! heavy angst / light cursing / mentions of asthma & not being able to breathe

>>

please note: this is john before he turned into a ghoul, which is why you’ll see mentions of hair and skin. no specific colors or details stated, imagine him how you like. age is also not mentioned because i had no clue

ALSO gave mcdonough a first name because I couldn’t find it for the life of me, if you know it please tell me!!

>>

The sun sat high in its place over Diamond City, gracing the settlement with its bright, beautiful rays as numerous ghoul families were forced through the gate and into the hostile world beyond with guns pointed at their backs.

John was nauseous. Standing on the lift that went up to his brother’s office, he could see the face of each and every ghoul Diamond City Security was shoving out the door. It made him sick. After all, they were just people, right? People that looked a little different? People whose bodies got ransacked from the radiation but still have enough strength to live? Shouldn’t they be celebrating that they survived instead of treating them like they were a disease? A plague that needed to be wiped from the streets of their cities? There were families, children, being thrown out on the doorstep of Diamond City like trash. The Security guards were screaming at them, shouting at them to get out or they’d open fire. Every smooth-skin in the city was standing outside to watch, calling them names and slurs that weren’t heard in the city before today. Before his brother’s election.

A geyser of emotions were welling up inside of John. Sadness, guilt, a deep rage that was burning against his brother that he’d never felt before. Before he could stop himself, he’d slammed his fist on the big red button, and he ascended toward his brother.

He numbly crashed through the office doors. There his brother stood, looking out over the city, watching the ghouls scramble to gather their things and get shoved around by the security and locals. John didn’t quite know what to say, but that was fine, because his brother spoke first.

“I did it, John. It’s finally mine,”

John drifted up behind his brother, raising his hand to place it on his shoulder but he stopped short. “Please don’t do this. Please… James, don’t send them out there to die. They didn’t do anything to you. They’ve been living here peacefully for years. Please, call it off.”

“I can’t do that,” He stated, staring out the window like he was in a trance. “I don’t have anything against the ghouls, you know that, but I’m just giving the people what they want. I cant betray the voters.”

John clenched his fists, the angry fire burning within him growing brighter. “There’s children out there, and you’re shoving them into the ruins. This is bigger than you being mayor, than you betraying the voters, this is the deaths of dozens.”

“People in power have to sacrifice to get their positions,” James stated.

John could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his angry breaths increasing in speed. “You’re not sacrificing something of yours, you’re sacrificing people! Living, breathing, innocent people!”

“I’m not the first and I won’t be the last,”

John ran a stressed hand through his hair, the familiar feeling of hot, rage-induced tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. He hated that he cried when he got mad. He always did it as a child and it made him feel weak in front of his brother. “Please. Please don’t send them out there to die. I’m begging you. I’m begging you. Kick me out, do something to me, but not them.”

“Don’t be so emotional, John,” James stated blankly. “You’ve always been the one to get upset.”

“Don’t be so emotional-“ John trailed off, throwing his hands to the side. “You’re sending two dozen people, men and women and children, to die! How can you not care?!”

“Don’t make a scene,”

“What happened to you?! I always knew you were a douchebag, but this?!” John didn’t realize he had hot, rage filled tears streaming down his cheeks until he sniffled. “Who are you?!”

“I’m your brother,”

“No you’re not!” The younger of the two let out an enraged sob, hiccuping like a small child much to his disdain. “The brother I grew up with wouldn’t kill innocent people! What happened to you?!”

“Are you crying, John?”

“Piss off,” He hissed, turning away from his brother and lacing his hand into his hair again. What happened to his brother? What made him change so much? Was it power? He could feel his asthma acting up again, threatening to restrict his breathing like it had so many times before.

“Calm down or you’re going to have another attack, like you used to when we were kids,”

John whirled around like a madman, glaring at the back of James’ head. “Piss the hell off! Don’t sit here and pretend like you care when you won’t even look at me!”

His brother didn’t respond to that, instead, just listened to John cough lightly into his sleeve.

“You’re a monster.” He muttered.

“Aren’t we all?”

John was breathing like he’d been running a marathon now, the air forcing itself in and out of his lungs with a familiar violence. “You’re killing innocent people.”

“Like you haven’t killed before,”

“Not for fun. Not for the people,” He hissed, wiping a layer of hot tearstreaks off of his face just for another to take their place. “Please… please, don’t do it. Please make them stop.”

“You’d be a weak leader, John,” James stated simply, still not bothering to peel his eyes away from the window. John tugged at the neckline of his shirt, lungs begging for relief. He needed a hit of something, anything right then.

“I wouldn’t… kill my people,” The venom dripping from his words was so thick he hoped it might actually poison his brother.

“Has it occurred to you that they aren’t dead?”

“What do you thinks gonna happen to them beyond the walls, huh?! They don’t know anything about living out there because they lived in here!”

“You teach a kid to swim by tossing it in a lake.”

“And then it drowns,” John spat. Funny enough, because right then, he felt like he was drowning. He couldn’t breathe right and the anger inside of him was boiling hotter than anything he’d ever felt before. He was shaking now, his entire body trembling under the force of his emotions. He sobbed again, audibly, cursing himself for it afterward.

“Look at you, John. You’re weak,”

A new feeling sprang to life inside of him, something like betrayal. Pain. “I’m not-“

“You’re weak,” James cut him off, but didn’t look at him.

“I don’t send people to their deaths to get what I want!”

“Because you’re weak. Too weak to do what needs to be done. Too weak to handle what comes with living in this world,”

“Look at me!” John latched onto his brother’s shoulders and shoved him around. He didn’t look dazed, or annoyed, like he’d expected, but instead, was wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. The smile of a crazed man that made John pause. Where had his brother gone? Buried inside the mind of a psycho? He let go of James’ shoulder and raked both hands through his hair, tears derived from an emotion separate from anger spilling down his face as he looked at his brother that wasn’t his brother anymore. They’d never been close, but their parents were dead, and he was all John had. And he was gone now, too. Buried inside the shell of a man he once knew.

James’ face contorted into one of worry, but it was painfully, painfully fake, only throwing salt in the wound when John realized his brother didn’t actually care about him anymore. “Calm down, John. You need to breathe.”

John flinched away from James’ hand when it drifted toward his shoulder, snapping: “Don’t touch me!”

His mind drifted back to all the times James had at least tried to be a good brother. When he would drag John across the city to his house when he was high out of his mind. When he would stick around as the drugs faded away to be there just to help him get grounded again. When he held his little brother the night their parents died. It was years ago, but it was still vivid in John’s mind. This wasn’t his brother. This was a monster.

“Come here,” James outstretched his arms as an invitation. John wanted nothing more than to take it, to sink into his brother’s arms like he had the night their parents died and cry out all of the swirling pain, rage, and betrayal that made his mind and body so weak. But he couldn’t. Because this man wasn’t his brother anymore, he was a murderer.

“No,” He croaked, the voice coming out of his mouth not even sounding vaguely familiar in his ears. He flew into a coughing fit, gasping for breath. He felt James’ hand on his back. He turned and slapped it away like it was toxic. “Get off of me.” It came out as more of a desperate whimper than an actual order, but James obeyed, taking a step back.

“Let’s do your breathing exercises,”

“Piss off,” John said again. He didn’t even freaking remember the silly little counting exercises his mother used to make him do, and he knew James didn’t have a clue. He finally got ahold of himself, turning and walking, albeit rather sideways, toward the door.

“You’re leaving, John?”

He didn’t respond, just hurried to the lift and slammed the button again, gasping and blubbering like a child. He needed to leave.

>>

[sugar-omi]

HI IM AN INSANE BAXSTAN AND SWIFTIE AND UR RYT MR PERFECTLY FINE HAS IMMENSE BAXMC POTENTIAL

while i think its not Unlikely for mc to forgive baxter within the span of the dlc, i DO think theyre not given enough options to feel complicated abt it. u pretty much have to decide how to feel from the start, and arent given a lot of room to change ur mind. For example, my mc Anne is a very forgiving person, especially with bax bc she understands his need to be entertaining & liked. HOWEVER she starts the dlc off thinking "ok if hes gonna be distant i can do that" but then when he jokes with xavier shes like "well im CONFUSED now and i need answers" and shes irritated, but also still likes him. after the bowling she hugs him and is still like confused, but again likes him still. by the time shes baking with him, shes both confused and endeared with him but is kinda harsh with him, even when hes apologizing at the wedding.

All this to say; its not UNREALISTIC mc would forgive in that timespan, its just the lack of complexity mc is or is not afforded that makes it feel too fast. additionally, while u do get to be mad, theres no real moderation for it, and no way to be like "this is a start, but it will take time to trust him fully again". so yeah, it feels rushed and personally i think it was rushed to be released due to whatever reasons (either not caring abt baxter or wanting to work on olnf, who knows)

anyway, i would go on about baxters dlc and its shortcomings for hours if given a chance so for now ill just call it here <3 signed, 🌸Anon

YES YES I AGREE

i do think there was a lotta effort n good stuff but into baxter, and i also havent replayed it since they updated some stuff so maybe its a bit better since release

but i do agree i think the emotional range is very limited its either "idc anymore", "im mad", "i look back fondly", "im pretty sad abt it", n all that stuff n its just pretty straight forward in whatever you choose

i think step 4 is a bit short? maybe?

BUT I ALSO THINK ITS PRETTY FLESHED OUT, now i haven't acted professional w baxter, i tried but i just didnt have time to go through w the route. but there are options!!! its just one and done i think so its kinda like, you cant express How conflicted you are

bc realistically id be so sad but i also hold a grudge so id be like "yeah you say you love me n all that n i GET IT but also im scared"

BUT I ALSO THINK ITS BC WE ARE PLAYING IT WITH SEVERAL HOURS??? like MC has 5 years to get through the emotions, but the time between him saying "see you never!!!" and "omg hi, i miss u but u dont need me but i miss u?!?!!?!" is like less than 5 minutes so.....

LITERALLY I WAS PLAYING IT THE FIRST TIME N I WAS LIKE "you bastard, fuck you. i hate you. stfu. YOURE SO CUTE. you ASSHOLE. i am going to KISS YOU. i want to slap you so fucking bad right now"

like pls i was freaking out during my first playthru

i think baxter's dlc was more focused on the "i am hurt" and "i have XYZ reasons for being like this" and it goes through all that and its less "lets work through your complex feelings/this is how you reacted when we met again bc you felt/feel very conflicted and now we will work thru it"

BAXTER DLC IS LITERALLY "I CAN FIX HIM" OMFG

but honestly i like the baxter dlc better than the derek dlc bc i HATED how "i can do everything by myself!!!!" derek was in step 2 and how sibling focused it was, i man i still loved it of course but i wish derek n mc had more 1 on 1 time

and then in step 4 it was like "i missed out on everything, i feel shitty n im sorry!" and mc just.... idk maybe i need to play it again but i was still mad derek ghosted for a whole step n then it was still very family focused, and while i loved that as well

i just wanted more derek by himself, i wanted to pamper him n love him n just yk

idk, all the dlc's are so good but i do think the forgiveness is very quick which makes sense bc they're making ol2 but man, i would love if it was just double the length or half that to just flesh it out some bc i wanted some sweet moments w the boys as well :(((

ANYWAY YES I DO AGREE ITS NOT UNREALISTIC

just unrealistic for ppl like me who take 2-3 years to get over wtf happened and another 2 to actually settle in my decision to forgive 😂😂 but even then, if i had 5 years to get over it i could prbly forgive him after a lot of crying and a bit of screaming LMAO

[thatbitchsimone]

I also love Angelica and think she's so great - there's another video on her youtube where she says people should only lose their virginity in their 20's - what do you think about this? I agree with her sentiment to an extent and I do think as a woman I was put into many situations that make me feel used now and I am sure this can negatively affect men as well.. I just kind of felt ashamed/worried after watching the video because she said that having sex very young can negatively set you up for life and I agree to an extent but I think there's more nuance to it than a 20 minute youtube video can express.. And also I think the problem more with me is I didn't know to express my boundaries or communicate and people took advantage of that sometimes.. and just how women are socialised etc etc

i was just gonna watch that video but it looks like shes deleted all of those videos (which sucks ass bc she had an amazing video about the tumblr nymphet community and its parallels to nambla and how it has negatively affected us that got seduced by that little subculture back in the mid 2010s) so unfortunately i cant answer this properly bc i dont have the full context and i dont have her arguments etc but i can still give some of my immidiate thoughts on it so here we go

i think losing ur virginity/wait with sex until ur in ur 20s is probably ideal tbh and i would absolutely encourage it for anyone who is in their teens rn and havent had their sexual debut yet. main reason being that u will be old enough to understand sex and its risks and effects and u will have had time to figure ur own body out more and u will most likely have at the very least basic level emotional intelligence and maturity that is required to have safe and healthy and enjoyable sex. like u have just finished puberty and just left teenagehood behind which is a messy and confusing and rough lifestage for all of us and ur now entering adulthood and have gained some perspective etc and u are way more in tune with urself (at the very least compared to when u were a teen) and both ur body and brain will be developed enough to be able to handle sex and have a realistic attitude around it and while ofc u can still be manipulated and u may still be somewhat naive it wont be anywhere near AS easy to manipulate u as it would have been earlier bc thats just how it is. u might still be vulnerable maybe sure but if ur vulnerable now u were even MORE vulnerable when u were a teen. its just how it is. thats how growing up works. u will probably have a way easier and more enjoyable sexual debut in ur 20s bc u will have a headstart in so many ways both physically and emotionally.

BUT im not gonna pretend like its that black and white and simple. Many girls (and boys but im focusing on women here) have perfectly normal and healthy sexual encounters when they are teenagers and i rly dont believe that sex will just automatically traumatize and harm u when ur a teen bc lets be real here, the key here is that u explore sex with UR PEERS, boys and girls within ur own age group, NOT ppl that are 20+ when u are like 14-16. when ur a high schooler and u want to explore sex u do it with other high schoolers. ppl ur own age. I think its perfectly fine and normal to have sex when ur a teen, but that is assuming u are having sex with other teens. NOT ppl that are like 5 years older than u. thats when actual impactful long lasting harm becomes highly likely. feeling like u got used and heartbroken by a boy in ur school aka a boy that is ur peer and ur own age will hurt and suck and will leave an impact on u but its a very different impact than the one u will be left with if u felt taken advantaged of by someone much older (not a teen). the dynamics are whats important here i think.

sex and relationships are messy and yes u can always get fucked up from it thats just how it is. u cant avoid it. u just need to be able to handle it and maybe ur not ready to handle it until ur like 25, thats fine. dont do it then. like if u dont think ur ready, just wait until u are. if ur like 15 and feel ready then go ahead but STICK TO PPL UR OWN AGE when ur that young. u gotta be equals. period.