#and it's entirely based on a tumblr post I saw a few days ago
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Wip Wednesday 🎄
I shared a small tidbit from this yesterday, but here's a little longer one this time 💕
Eddie was holding a bag of M&Ms in one hand while twisting garlands around the railings by the stairs with the other. They were putting up the Christmas decorations around the station during a lull and while Eddie was all for the Christmas spirit, the garlands didn't seem too keen on cooperating.
“Pass me one?” Buck walked up to him, both his arms tangled up in a big knot of Christmas lights and on the top of his head, pushing into his perfectly coiffed hair sat a frankly ridiculous hairband with a set of floppy white ears, decorated by big black blotches to resemble a dalmatian.
“What are you wearing?” Eddie frowned at the dog ear hanging down just beside his birthmark.
Buck looked up like he could see the top of his own head if he just tried hard enough. “Must’ve been left here from Halloween. Cute, right?”
"Sure."
Well, it was cute.
That still didn't explain why he felt the need to put it on, but Eddie had more important things to worry about, namely the damned garland that kept on slipping off of the railing and bunching up on the bottom.
“So, are you gonna give me one?” Buck tried again, eyeing the small bag of candy in Eddie’s hand.
“Ask nicely.” Eddie quipped, mainly just to be a little shit but as always, Buck was game.
He ducked his chin, jostling the dog ears on the top of his head and batted his eyelashes a little cartoonishly, then after an elongated whine of pretty please, he stuck his tongue out expectantly.
Eddie rolled his eyes and plopped a big green one onto Buck’s tongue. “Here.”
tags under the cut 💛
I was tagged by the lovely @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 and @malewifediaz mwuah mwuah 💛
✨and totally no pressure tagging: @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998
#yes the third christmas fic is the puppy fic#which in no way contains any actual dogs#the premise of this fic is so ridiculous btw#and it's entirely based on a tumblr post I saw a few days ago#which instantly made me write 3k in one go#anyway it's gonna be cute and filthy#also I made the mistake of making a mood board for one of my other christmas fics so now I had to make one for each of them ugh#also also this specific pink is shooting up the list of my fave colours real quickly lmao#(my phonecase and my earphones are the same colour tbh so it's nothing new)#alright that's more than enough rambling uhh#buddie#911#wip#the puppy fic
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pairing: Harry Styles x physicist!reader
summary: The aftermath of the leak is hard on everybody in dr YN YSN's circle, but especially for her. The gossip, magazines, paparazzi and haters do not help the case.
warnings: hate speech, swearing
a/n: hi! so yes, this is a re-upload of the 3rd part of the physicist!reader. earlier this week tumblr wasn't working with me, not showing this on tags or even my own home page. and with that, i decided to post it again so maybe some more of you could know what's been happening in the world of physicist!reader. i hope you'll enjoy!
part 1 part 2 taglist
@celesteblack08
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The Sun
Oxford Is Firing The Famous 'Higgs Professor' and Harry Styles' Girlfriend Dr YN YSN
Written by John Addams
The infamous and TikTok sensation dr YN YSN, lecturer at Oxford University, is being fired after intimate photos of her and boyfriend, Harry Styles, saw the light of the day.
Starting at the beginning, the relationship between two became a fact over a year ago, when dr YSN went viral for her explanation of the Higgs mechanism based on Harry Styles' music. As we got to know from their joined street interview for meetcutesnyc on Instagram, the relationship florished after meeting at their mutual friend's (Christopher Nolan) party. Dr YN YSN was the science consultant for the director's latest movie, Oppenheimer, and Harry starred in one of his films, Dunkirk - making it happen.
Everything was going smoothly till the morning of three days ago. YN's iCloud was hacked, revealing personal and intimate information about not only the owner but her boyfriend as well.
'Dean is furious,' says our source. 'He cannot believe that the best lecturer could be this reckless'.' After the posed question on whether the decision of firing could be announced any time soon, they said, 'it's just the matter of time. But it's going to be sooner rather than later. Oxford is going to lose a fair and talented professor, but it is not its fault. Someone was the author of those, let's say information that was exposed. And it's going to be their fault entirely.'
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harrysmoustache
liked by hArrysbtch, harryupdates and 23 482 others
harrysmoustache Harry and YN couldn't leave the restaurant safely because a bunch of paps and 'fans' showed up at the location. Not only was it physically dangerous, but the things that were spoken towards (mostly) YN were disgusting. Calling her names and ready to fire her on the spot because of the PRIVATE PHOTOS she took with her boyfriend, which then someone ILLIGALY POSTED ONLINE after HACKING HER ICLOUD. Did y'all forget about TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS?????
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harrysmoustache and don't make me start on that bullshit that the sun did... RIDICULOUS
harryupdates After all those years, and all those situations that he went through, I'm still surprised that people can be this cruel to him and people that he loves
hArrysbtch they hatin' my girl cause of some sexy photos... bastards
hArrysbtch why would they care what she does after Uni hours??? it's none of your business
scienceandharstyles it's heartbreaking to see a person that gives others the world and shares her knowledge and wears her heart on her sleeve being treated like garbage
harrymylove those were not harry fans
stylesbabie monstrosity
user56 why do y'all care for her this much??? jezz..
⤷ hArrysbtch maybe because she's a good human being treated like the worst person alive just because she snapped a few photos of her and her boyfriend
⤷ user56 wouldn't that be the consequences of her own actions?
⤷ hArrysbtch nope. her phone was hacked. how many times you take photos of yourself and think 'oh god, what if my gonna be hacked and this will be posted?'
⤷ harrysmoustache hArrysbtch ohhh, babes!!! you closed that haters mouth!!!!
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drynysn
liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 738 492 others
drynysn During one of my latest lectures one of the students asked about accuracy in Sci-Fi movies, so I decided to start a little series of: Is this SCIENCE or just FICTION? Firstly, we'd look into the scene from Spider-Man 2 (2004). The scene where Peter Parker (Spider-Man) is stopping the train from its eventual crash. he shot multiple web lines, then they stretched and didn't break. One would say it is not possible. But! From the way the scene is shown to us, we are able to estimate how strong the web needed to be for it to happen. After looking up the train's mass, you can estimate its initial velocity (how far it can go per hour, so km/h) by seeing exactly how long it takes to pass the city blocks. (1)
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drynysn (2) You can look up, measure, the distance over the webbing stretches, and then estimate its diameter . You can also count the number of web lines. NOW, we end up with a tensile (fancy way of saying elastic) strength for the webbing that has to be about 1 000 megapascals (mega meaning milion) which is equivalent to about 102 036 704 kilograms per square metre (which is 145 000 lbs/square inch - for you, my American friends on here).
drynysn (3) What is absolutely mind-blowing is the fact that actual spider silk has a tensile strength of 1 200 megapascals. So, if Spider-Man's webbing would be anyway that strong, that scene was very, very realistic. Rating it 9/10. What scene would you like to see next?
scienceandharstyles that is so informative and making this movie even more iconic!! Did you do all the equations by yourself, dr YSN?
⤷ drynysn Yes, I did! Took me some time to analyse the scene but it was worth it!
harryupdates oh, i need to rewatch this movie immediately!!!
harryismylife could the next scene be the one from The Avengers where Mjolnir after contacting Cap's shield makes that blue light? is that even possible?
⤷ drynysn that's a great scene! i'll look over it!
hArrysbtch i love the little explanations in brackets! i didn't need to look up the tensile thingy!
harrysmoustache you're telling me the scene i was 100% sure was as fake as my eyelashes is true???
user45 maybe you should try explaining showing of that body of yours
user75 is this the new way to make money after being fired?
user281 unemployment doesn't suit you but the consequences of your actions finally caught up with you
user374 i think you should start posting one of those photos the sun included in their article - you'll get more attention
comments to this post have been disabled
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harryupdates
liked by hArrysbtch, harrymoustache nad 54 292 others
harryupdates HARRY nad DR YN spotted in a small restaurant in Oxford (i'm disabling the comments cause i don't want to deal with the haters)
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hArrysbtch MY PARENTS!!!!!!!! ARE BACK AFTER THE WEEKS OF DRAUGHT!!!!!
hArrysbtch and they look goooood
harrysmoustache i missed them so much..
stylesbabie yn looks so tired and sad
⤷ hArrysbtch it's just one phot of one moment
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harrystyles via close friends IG story
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londonboyharry
liked by harryupdates nad 14 302 others
londoboyharry went to oxford to bump into harry. it's better! i met dr yn ysn, drank coffee with her, talked and laughed my ass off! she is the funniest, kindest and most down to earth person i've ever met. also, after i asked her about all the things that were happening around her, she just said 'what things?' WITH A SMIRK ON HER FACE, SIPPING HER LITTLE AMERICANO AND BEING UNBOTHERED
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harryupdates im so happy that she gives no damn to those people online
hArrysbtch I LOVE HER
harrymoustache the moment the legend the IT girl
stylesbabie happy for you!!!
harrysmylife who would want to meet harry when you can meet dr yn ysn?
scienceandharstyles best woman alive
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scienceandharstyles
liked by drynysn, harrystyles and 56 482 others
scienceandharstyles WE GRADUATED OXFORD!!! to anybody who said there was no way to incorporating pop culture with a biology degree? eat shit! i wrote the whole masters based on musicians' impact on fans' hormonal production. hehe. ALSO, it would not be possible withouth the best teacher, academic inspiration, and person I've ever met - dr YN YSN. thank you!
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drynysn MADELINE, I am so proud of you. It would be not possible without your persisatnce and will to find solutions and answers. This is all yours!
harrystyles Congratulations, Madeline! H, xx.
harryupdates congrats maddie!!
stylesbabie very very proud
harrysmoustache did you perhaps use harry as an example in your work?
⤷ scienceandharstyles YES, I did. Only positive affect of his voice, music and visuals...
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oxford_uni
liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 748 392 others
oxford_uni Acknowledging the upheaval around one of our lecturers - dr YN YSN, the Chancellor of Oxford University and the Dean of The Department of Physics decided to release the joined statement:
Refuting the words ans statements made by publishers not connected to our University, we would like to inform anybody in concern that one of our grates lecturers dr YN YSN is not decruited. The matter of private life is not concern of the University authority, even more when the said privacy was bridged. At this place, we would like to wish luck during dr YN YSN' s new path - becoming a professor.
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harrystyles <3
harryupdates I KNEW IT
hArrysbtch EAT SHIT THE SUN, EAT SHIT JOHN ADDAMS
harrysmoustache HAHHAHAHAHAHA I KNEW IT !!!!!! BABY THERE WAS NO WAY THEY WOULD FIRE HER
stylesbabie thank god! there is still hope for this world
scienceandharstyles Chancellor and Dean with the best decision ever made
harrysmylife now haters what??? ha??
harrysfan87 i believed in you guys i did
londonboyharry becoming a professor???? good luck yn!!!
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yourinstagram
liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 275 others
yourinstagram There was no better thing that happened to me than meeting you. You support means the world. I love you forever.
view all 36 comments
harrystyles Loving you is the greatest honour of all time, my heart <3
annetwist My favourite girl in the world! (besides my daughter)
⤷ gemmastyles Thanks for clarifying, mum
gemmastyles My sister from another mister!
yourbestfriend We need to finally meet up!
⤷ yourinstagram yessss!
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harrystyles
liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates, annetwist and 10 746 646 others
harrystyles You're just finishing one of your latest publications on the way to becoming a professor. I couldn't have been more proud and honoured to accompany you during this time.
view all 98 757 comments
yourinstagram I love you I love you I love you
annetwist Our smart professor. <3
harryupdates ohhhhhh *melting*
hArrysbtch I'll never get over him posting her on here
harrysmoustache we are back to normal, baby!!!
scienceandharstyles professor YN YSN sounds amazing
harrysmylife BEST. COUPLE. EVER.
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a/n: did you like the way it turned out?
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles instagram#harry styles fake ig#scientist!reader#physicist!reader
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In Flames I Sleep Soundly (1/2)
Summary: What do you do when you find out that person you trust the most is a liar? Or the Unfaithful AU that I've been wanting to read for a while.
Word Count: 9k+
Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), Cheating/Adultery, Implied Het Sexual Content
Author’s Note: I was thinking about making a separate tumblr for fics (since I primarily post fanarts), but I’m too scatterbrained two maintain more than one account. I recently saw Unfaithful (2002) again and thought about doing an AU based on that movie. The title of this fic are lyrics from "Wedding Song" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. No betas. And I won't apologize for how imperfect this monster is. I haven't written in more than a decade, so let's all suck it up.
AO3 / Part Two / Masterlist
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Part One
Summer arrives in Westview, New Jersey in a fairly conspicuous manner. Its parks have been repainted with various shades of green, and the oversized trench coats on the streets that its residents are so fond of during the cold months are nowhere to be found.
Despite these observations, Westview remains a sleepy town. At least it is to you, but that's probably because you’ve spent half of your life in Manhattan. You and Wanda moved to New Jersey a few months ago after you were promoted to branch manager. The salary that came with it was enough to pay off your student loans including Wanda's, so it was easy to accept the offer despite the trade-off of having to move to a relatively unknown and rural town.
"It's only temporary," you told Wanda when you broke the news. "My supervisor said that if I can prove myself there, I can come back as a regional manager."
Wanda had assured you that you had her full support. At the time, she was working part-time at a small gallery for up-and-coming artists in the state, and while she needed to start somewhere to realize her dream of becoming an art dealer, she figured it wouldn't derail her career so much if she could learn art trading online.
Everything happened in a blur after that. In two weeks, you were driving to Westview with nothing but two suitcases and your dog, Sparky, on Wanda's lap. You held her hand while she slept throughout the entire trip and you faced the unknown roads that led to your new life.
The house they picked for you and your family exceeded your expectations. Granted, you had to subsidize a percentage of the move-in fee, it was a small price to pay to have so much space. The bathroom alone is larger than the guestroom of your previous two-bedroom apartment in Yorkville. On the first day, Wanda had explored the house with a childlike wonder, while Sparky tried to cover every inch of its ostensibly boundless backyard. That night, with only a blanket laid out on the floor, you made love to Wanda and then some more on the kitchen counter and the bathtub upstairs, inside the master's bedroom.
You've been married to her for five years, but a fresh start gave you two the sexual appetite of newly weds. It didn’t take 48 hours to christen every room in the house.
By now, a routine has been established: you wake up at five in the morning to go out for a run, back at home by six, and then showered and dressed for work before seven. Wanda, on the other hand, would try to get up before you're done with your ceremonies to prepare breakfast. She's not always successful–sometimes waking up long after you've gone to work.
"You want some coffee?" Wanda wakes you out of your stupor. She's still in her nightgown, holding two cups of freshly brewed coffee. Her auburn hair is up in a messy bun and she is, after all these years, a sight to behold.
You look at her and then at your left wrist to check the time on the Rolex she gave you as a wedding gift. You still have a few minutes, but there's an urgent staff meeting that you're a little anxious about.
"And maybe some omelet?" Wanda suggests when you don't answer, already cracking some eggs in a bowl.
"Sorry, babe, got to run." You shake your head apologetically before walking over to her and kissing the back of her head. Wanda merely continues whisking the eggs for a while before commenting, "Until when are you going to have these early meetings?"
"I don't know. Maybe the end of the month?"
"You're the boss. Can't you just call them off? Maybe schedule them during actual office hours?"
You shrug and say nothing, unwilling to engage in an argument so early in the day. Wanda exhales heavily at your lack of reaction, which compels you to reach for her hand and stroke it. Seeing how she’s not pulling away from your touch, you move to hug her from behind.
"I'll try to be home early tonight, okay? I miss you too." You say softly and kiss her cheek.
"I didn't say I miss you." Wanda deadpans, but she's already turning around in your arms for a proper embrace. You kiss her forehead and let her hold you for a few beats. She buries her nose in your neck and inhales deeply. “I told you to stop wearing this perfume. It makes you unbearably enticing.” Wanda admonishes you with a hungry look.
It’s embarrassing how easily your wife can turn you into a bashful teenager with a little flirting.
“Well, maybe you should do something about it.” You playfully taunt her.
“Maybe I will.” Wanda says in a low voice, and she’s close enough for you to notice the total lack of green in her eyes.
As much as you want to rip her silky lingerie and take her right then and there, the fact is you are already going to miss the first few minutes of the meeting–and then maybe a quarter of it if you don’t leave soon.
"I really have to go. But first things first," You grab one of the two cups of joe and Wanda starts giggling when you drink from it in one go. "Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a cafe business."
"Idiot." Wanda taps your nose affectionately, before shoving you towards the door.
Later, you arrive home just a few minutes shy of midnight. The house is deathly silent, even your dog could not be bothered greeting you at the door. You go straight to the bedroom, making as little sound as possible, to find Wanda asleep on her side, facing away from you. You get rid of your clothes and climb into bed. You carefully inch towards her and press your front against her back, spooning her. You hear her breath hitch, but before you can start thinking of an apology, you fall fast into a dreamless sleep.
***
It’s two months later and on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when Wanda breaks the news that she’s been offered a temporary position at Westview Institute of Arts and Sciences. You’ve watched your wife gradually grow restless each week, having a difficult time adjusting to life in the suburbs. Wanda interviewing for a job wasn’t as forthcoming as her asking you to move back to the city. Taking the job would mean integrating with the community in a semi-permanent way. So it’s a surprise that Wanda would even consider it.
"Assistant professor?" you ask distractedly, not looking up from the Jonathan Tropper novel on your lap. Wanda’s perched on one of the barstools of the breakfast counter, waiting for her banana bread to be done in the oven. Sparky lays at her feet, also waiting for the banana bread.
"What do you think?" Wanda muses and drums her fingers on the table.
You regard your restless wife for a moment, before closing the book and tapping the spot next to you on the couch. “C’mere.”
Wanda does as she’s told and Sparky follows after her.
"I think it’s a great opportunity and experience to have. But I thought you're getting a lot of projects from Upwork."
You try not to sound too partial to the idea of her working in the university. However, if you’re being totally honest, it would essentially solve the problem of your wife’s mild existential crisis– and your guilt of probably causing it.
"It’s just a side-hustle,” Wanda argues. “Besides, they’re going to need me only three times a week and they offered me a full-time pay.”
“Sounds too perfect to be true.”
Wanda shakes her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not unheard of that there’s a huge demand for educators in small-town institutions.”
“So you’ll take it?”
Wanda nods with a smile and then says, “Only if you’ll drive me in the morning.”
“Of course, baby.” You say almost instantly and give her a quick peck on the lips. It doesn’t even matter that Wanda has her own car since she hates driving with a passion.
"Professor Maximoff." Her potential designation rolls off your tongue coolly. You’ve never really pictured Wanda in academe before, and now you can’t get rid of the image of her in a perfectly tailored suit.
The corners of Wanda’s mouth quirk up in a dreamy smile. "Kinda has a ring to it, huh?"
"A very sexy ring to it, professor."
Wanda giggles as you go ahead and think of ways to sneak into one of her classes some time in the near future.
"I'd tell you I've gotten a job at Baskin' Robbins and you'd say I look hot in their uniform." she points out.
"I bet you're hotter with all your clothes off."
Suddenly, the oven dings and Sparky starts barking at Wanda.
“And you’ve got a one-track mind,” she mutters with an undercurrent of mirth, before getting up to return to her baking. “Ten points from Hufflepuff!”
You burst into a fit of laughter. “Can’t blame me for having a hot wife. Also, I’m a Gryffindor you vexing Slytherin!”
Wanda can be the biggest dork at times, and it only makes you fall for her a little harder in these moments.
She sticks her tongue out at you. “Dream on, Badger Queen.”
***
It’s some kind of Hollywood domestic bliss.
You still wake up at five to go out for a run, but now Wanda’s your running buddy and you’re always trying to catch up with her pace.
“I can’t believe this gives you more energy than coffee.” she said the first time she laced up and she finished her run a minute faster than you. You thought it’s ludicrous that Wanda was a natural athlete on top of her good looks, but you figured it was an organic truth given that her brother played professional soccer for a couple of years before he got into the business side of sports.
Most days, you’d let Wanda clean up first while you cook breakfast. On one occasion that you joined her in the shower, Wanda turned up so late in class some of the students were already preparing to leave.
“That can’t happen again.” Wanda told you.
“Whatever you say, babe.”
You’d been married to her long enough to know that Wanda often broke her own rules. Historically, you’d watch her do so with satisfaction just because it’s usually an unspoken challenge between married people. And maybe because it reminded you that she’s human. Imperfect as much as you were.
“Just be careful, Y/N,” your best friend, Natasha, told you a month into dating Wanda Maximoff. “Mistakes and disappointments are inevitable. Hell, even I will let you down at some point in the future.”
“You have. Many times.” you said jokingly.
“Is that right? Look, all I’m saying is it’s also not fair to Wanda if you put her on such a high pedestal.”
Natasha was right. However, it wasn’t like you could change who you were and how you loved. The night you met Wanda at freshman orientation, you knew she was the one. You loved her through college as her closest friend as much as you did when she began to see you in a new light thereafter.
And even now, as you stare at her sneaking a nap on the drive to her workplace, nothing has changed. It’s a cherished moment, no matter how mundane.
Your hopeless crush on Wanda never really went away.
You feel very lucky that she feels the same way.
***
You’re about ten feet from the door of your house when you hear scratches from behind it, followed by Sparky’s incessant barking. Quickly, you fish out your keys from your backpack and open the door.
Sparky jumps at you as soon as the door swings open, and then starts licking at your pants.
“What’s up?” you say, scratching behind his ears until he calms down.
You look around the empty living room and notice for the first time that Wanda’s not home.
You send a text to her asking where she is. Sparky is making whiny noises, while pushing his empty bowl towards you with his tiny paw.
“Sorry, bud. Let’s get you your dinner.” You say, picking up the bowl and bringing it to where you store his food. You open the cupboard to find a mostly empty bag of Merrick. Sparky patiently waits for you, wagging his tail. Wanda was supposed to get some groceries this afternoon.
You check your phone and find no new messages.
“Looks like you’re coming with me for a quick run to the grocery store.” You tell Sparky with a sigh.
Sparky tilts his head at you in confusion. You send another text to Wanda telling her you went out and ask if she’s already eaten, before heading out to your car once again.
You don’t hear back from Wanda long after you’ve had dinner by yourself and it’s almost midnight. Your anxiety levels are at an all-time high, and you’re about to call the cops when you hear her car approaching the garage.
You’re waiting by the door, so at the very second she slips inside the house, you hoist her into a desperate embrace like a mad woman.
“Where were you?” You exclaim as you pull away and clasp her shoulder blades hard. “I’ve been worried sick and you went dark on me.”
Wanda winces at you, gently prying your fingers from her. “My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger. I was writing the final exam that I have to turn in by tomorrow, and got carried away. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t do that again. You couldn’t have borrowed someone’s cell or call from the school?”
“Like I said, I was working,” Wanda rolls her eyes, just a tad snidely. “It’s Westview. What’s the worst that could happen to me? Please let it go, I’m so fucking exhausted.”
It’s not that you’ve never heard your wife curse before, but you can’t help but flinch given the context at which she’s said it.
“Fine,” You clench your jaw, stepping out of her way. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“Sure.” Wanda says stoically.
You don't talk about it in the morning. Or at all.
***
The forecast is you’re not going to hit this quarter’s targets. You’ll be two to three percent short, and everyone is telling you there’s not enough time to pull off a new campaign and drum up enough business to meet the numbers.
Your stubborn nature beseeches you to try anyway. It is, of course, at the cost of being stuck in front of your laptop in the dead of night.
Wanda approaches you to see if you need anything before she goes to bed without you. You smile at the sweet gesture but shake your head no.
“I’m good,” you say.
“Are you sure? I’ve got us fresh tea bags.”
“Positive.”
“Okay, good night.” she offers you a faint smile and starts to leave the room.
“Wands?” you utter abruptly.
She pauses and leans against the door frame. “Yeah?”
“Do you love me?”
“Of course, I love you,” Wanda drags her feet back to you. “What a silly question.”
“I guess I’m just feeling silly. We’ve been working hard, and when we’re together,” You let out a mirthless laugh. “We’re still working.”
Wanda nods solemnly but doesn’t speak. You can’t see her eyes with just a lamp lit on your desk and you're oddly grateful for that.
“I just miss you.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, uhm,” you fidget, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
***
You wake up to wet kisses all over your face, only to be sorely disappointed to find out it's just Sparky, while Wanda looks at you softly as she waits for you to shake off the residues of sleep.
“Baby, I need a favor.” Wanda says.
"Good morning to you too." You reply good-naturedly.
Wanda ducks her head sheepishly. "Sorry, I've been waiting for you to wake up. I've said ‘good morning’ in my head, like, a hundred times." she tells you.
You silently brush a lock of hair from her face, before scooting closer to her and pressing a small kiss on her forehead.
"How can I be of service, m'lady?" you ask.
Wanda gets to it immediately. “There’s this painting I need from where I used to work. I need to bring it tomorrow, but I can’t take the day off. There’s no substitute because, well, I’m supposedly the substitute.”
“Sure, I’ll drop by there after work.”
Wanda makes a bashful noise of disapproval. “They’re only open until three-thirty.”
It’s a bad time to be missing work these days, but Wanda rarely asks for your help with anything. She’d sooner ask a stranger than her partner. There's one ex-boyfriend of hers you actually got to talk to in the past long before you and Wanda happened. The conversation was short, with mostly him talking–or rather ranting about how Wanda never made him feel needed. He went as far as claiming that she emasculated him in many ways. You never agreed with his insinuations of it being Wanda's flaw, and that it contributed to the downfall of their relationship. You like that Wanda is not a damsel in distress and that she carries herself with an air of confidence that only a truly independent woman can exude.
Although it does feel good to be needed sometimes.
“I’ll take care of it.” You assure her.
“Thank you,” Wanda says, and then proceeds to give you a tight but fleeting hug. "Alright, I'm gonna go get ready."
You plop back on the bed with a huff. You haven't gone out on a proper date with Wanda for months, and you don't know how much longer you can survive this routine of late nights and rush hours. Maybe a vacation isn't too improbable by the end of August. Wanda's always wanted to visit Maui and, but you've kept deferring it until next year. A year has turned into two, three, and you don't realize it until just now that she's stopped mentioning it to you.
You make a mental note to search for discount flights later. Or maybe you can start with something more feasible like, say, lunch?
"Wands?"
The noise of the running shower drowns out your call, so you lumber from the bed and towards the bathroom.
Your mouth goes dry at the view of Wanda's soaked body, nostrils flaring at her stupid rule of no sex before work.
Wanda turns around and your eyes drop lower.
"Jesus, Y/N!" she gasps, then lets out a breathy laugh.
"Sorry," you lie, smirking at her nakedness. "Should we go out for lunch later?"
"I'd love to," Wanda says. "But I've got a lunch meeting with the dean."
"I see." you say and linger by the door. The crestfallen look on your face doesn't go unnoticed by your wife.
"We can have dinner," Wanda proposes tentatively. "Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?"
Your eyes light up at her suggestion, heart brimming with repose.
"I'll pick you up at seven," you say. "It's a date."
Wanda throws a wink in your direction before turning back around to lather herself with your favorite soap.
-
Finding a parking space in Soho is almost next to impossible. You've only been living out of Manhattan for a couple of months, but it already feels like the population has doubled since. You're thinking about just leaving the car somewhere near the island and using the subway, when a woman enters your view and you step on the break as fast as you could. There's a loud screeching sound to be heard before the woman is rushing to your door with every intent to pulverize you on the spot.
As soon as you roll your window half-way through, a string of profanities welcome your ears like a gunshot. What you don't count on is hearing them from a spectacularly familiar voice.
"You almost got me killed you fucking asshole –"
You tilt your head towards your assailant. There's no mistaking that pair of green eyes.
“Yelena?"
Natasha's younger sister stares at you wide-eyed before her face breaks into the brightest smile.
"Y/N?"
"I almost didn't recognize you. I'm glad you still remember my name." you say. The last time you saw each other was right before Yelena went to an English university that you’ve forgotten the name of(it rhymes with ‘weed’) and you were a freshman in college. Yelena was a brunette then; she used to wear thick-rimmed glasses and her hair was always up in a low ponytail. The Yelena in front of you has blonde hair, a nose-piercing, and a cherry blossom tattoo on her chest that trails down and disappears into the collar of her blouse.
"How could I forget the only friend of my sister who was ever nice to me?" she quips with a toothy grin.
You blush at the fond memory of tutoring Yelena and treating her often to street shawarma.
"That's not true. Bruce was friendly with you as well."
"That's because he was dating my sister and wanted to get on my good side. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Looking for somewhere to park. Do you happen to know any in the area?"
"I've got one if you want. It's just down the street, second corner to your right."
"You're renting a parking space in Manhattan? I'm absolutely impressed."
“Oh, no!” she exclaims. Then adds, "It's my roommate, Kate's. She's loaded."
"Are you sure it's okay?"
Yelena nods and you thank her as she lets herself in your car.
The parking turns out to be too narrow, and so Yelena has to get out before you slot your car in the spot securely. Afterwards, she asks you where you’re off to, and you tell her that you’re picking up a painting for your wife. You ask her to come with you when she expresses an interest in the gallery.
You reacquaint yourselves with each other on the long walk to Wanda’s previous workplace. The conversation is, for lack of a better term, enjoyable. Yelena has always been an easy person to talk to–a remarkable contrast to Wanda who is often a challenge.
“When did you come home?” you ask suddenly after a while of talking about your work and recent settlement at Westview.
“Two years ago.”
You’re taken aback by her answer, feeling a bit hurt as you process the new information. Yelena’s been here all this time. Why didn’t she try to contact you?
“My cell didn’t ring either, you know.” Yelena tells you as if she can read your mind.
“Nat didn’t mention anything. I assumed you were still in London.”
“Leeds. The British are right about us not knowing any other city in the UK.” Yelena chuckles. “I told Nat to keep her mouth shut about my affairs.”
Before you could reply, Wanda’s ex-colleague, Agatha, comes out with the painting in hand. Yelena saunters off to observe the artworks on display.
“Thank you, Ms. Harkness.” you say, accepting the piece that was about the size of Mona Lisa.
“Welcome, dear. Whoever bought this must be made with money.”
The painting is wrapped in manila paper and it makes you curious who it is for. It must be someone who held a high position at Wanda’s university.
You excuse yourself with a polite nod, unaware of the look of suspicion she directs at Yelena, as your companion trails behind you on the way outside.
“Someone’s got a crush on you.” Yelena bumps your shoulder with hers.
“Wanda seems to think so too. Though I bet she’s just a nice old lady.”
Yelena laughs and slaps your arm this time. “Dude, she’s not old, old !”
“Someone’s got a crush,” you tease her back. Then, as if on cue, a reckless motorist speeds through a puddle, causing a wave of wastewater to splash all over your shirt.
“Shit,” you hiss, frowning at the ruined fabric of your white button-down. Yelena takes out her handkerchief and proceeds to wipe the specks of grease from your neck and face.
“Come on, we have a washer in the apartment.”
-
"Sorry I couldn't come to your wedding."
The hot coffee you just sipped refuses to come down your throat.
Yelena snickers at the dumb look on your face and says, "I'm just messing with you."
Your veins pulse in your temple as you force yourself to swallow. Yelena’s having a field day with you, poking fun at you on every opportunity.
"I'm so sorry for not extending an invite. It happened pretty quick. It was just your sister and Clint, and then Wanda's brother, Pietro. Our reception was at a pub in Brooklyn, and just getting absolutely shitfaced." you rush out, toying with the sleeves of Yelena’s sweater you borrowed. It’s cozy despite the hot weather. And undeniably smells like her.
"I know, Nat told me. Hey, I'm not offended. Besides, getting a wedding invitation from you would've been weird because,” Yelena pauses, and then sadly says, “We haven't connected in a long time."
"Yeah," you agree with a rueful smile. You haven't spoken to or thought about Yelena since you met Wanda.
“What’s she like?”
“Wanda? She’s…” It dawns on you that it’s not easy to translate your regular daydreams of her into a description you’d share with someone else.
“Exquisite,” you say, after going over various adjectives in your head. “And driven and smart. A glass half-empty to my glass half-full.”
“I’m happy for you,” Yelena mutters over her glass of Merlot.
“And Kate? How did you meet her?”
“We’re just friends.”
“Who are living together,” you point out.
“Best friends then.” Yelena says, unperturbed.
You smirk. “If you say so.”
“I’ve dated around, but I never really found someone who could replace–” Yelena bites her lower lip to stop herself.
Except, she didn’t have to because you know.
You’re both quiet for a while, before you break the silence with, “Anyway, thanks for the parking and saving my shirt.”
"You did take my virginity. That's something I can never repay you for."
You’re too shocked to react–she is too, at her brazenness–that for a while you just stare at her with your mouth agape.
Placing the coffee mug on the table, you get up on shaky feet.
“Sorry, that was a bad joke. I–”
“You know what, I should go."
"Oh," Yelena gets on her feet as well. "But your shirt?” she asks weakly.
"I'll just continue drying it at home. And then," you look down at the sweater you borrowed from her. "I'll mail this to you."
"Don't worry about that, I haven't worn that in ages."
"I promise to return it."
"Okay."
"Alright, so," Not quite knowing how to say good-bye, you jerk your thumb towards the door. "I'm gonna head out now."
Yelena closes the distance to give you a hug, which she keeps short when you go rigid at the proximity of her body and yours.
"Bye, Y/N."
***
Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. You’re surprisingly amenable and just text her when she’ll be home. You decide to cook for Wanda and try to convince yourself it’s not because you just need to keep busy and not think about what happened earlier with Yelena.
***
It’s Wanda’s day-off and she’s overslept. You watch your wife sleep soundly on her stomach, without a care in the world. Like this, the years fall away from her face and she looks like the girl you strongly want to protect for the rest of your days. Your eyes scan the room, until they fall onto the chair beside the bed. Hanging over it is a newly-bought lingerie with its tags still attached to it.
“Can you stop being a morning person just for today?”
You avert your gaze from the piece of clothing upon hearing Wanda’s voice still thick with sleep.
“Hi,” you greet your wife, twisting your wedding ring on your finger.
“Hi.” Wanda greets back, peeking at you from the comforter.
“I made breakfast, who’d you like to join me?”
“Sure, just give me a minute.”
You think about telling her you’ll wait until she’s ready and you can go together, but there’s an air of unfamiliarity and awkwardness hanging over your head–even worse is you don’t know where these feelings are coming from.
You don’t mean to count but it takes Wanda roughly twenty minutes to meet you at the breakfast table. It’s easy to force down your irritation when she looks immaculate and very put together.
Together, you eat in silence. You try to make conversation but in the end, Wanda’s responses are clipped and unfocused, so you just concentrate on finishing your oatmeal.
"You and I had a pretty crazy schedule recently, so I thought I'd take the day off and do something together." you say after waiting for Wanda to finish her meal.
"That's great, baby," Wanda smiles at you, before getting up to take the dishes to the sink.
Sneaking up behind her, you gently place your hands on the curve of her waist, and your lips just beside her left ear. For a while, you massage the flesh beneath your palms, feeling firm muscles instead of softness you're used to. Wanda's body has transformed right under your nose, and while you appreciate her more toned figure, you hope she's not being too restrictive with her diet.
"Leave them, baby. I'll do the dishes later..." You press an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just beneath her lobe. "...after I do you."
She squirms in your embrace, and you interpret it as a sign that she's getting turned on from your advances.
"Y/N–" Wanda doesn't get to finish her sentence as you twist her around and gently capture her lips. While she kisses you back with her hand coming up to wrap around your neck, she doesn't make a move to deepen it, seemingly satisfied with lazy pecks that end sooner than you'd like.
"Can I take you back to bed?" You inhale her scent soundly as you nose the length of her stupidly perfect jawline.
"I actually have to uhm–the laundry won't take care of itself." Wanda reasons, but doesn't really pull away from your hold. You take this opportunity to slide your hands up her back, beneath her shirt, and you can feel her goosebumps from your eager ministrations. Only now, being this close to her, have you realized how much you missed your wife.
Ignoring her excuses to thwart your affections, your fingers find the hook of her bra with ease. You snap it free and hastily move to grab both of her breasts, squeezing them tightly. "God, the things they do to me." You groan. She gasps at that, and by now, she should be pushing her chest towards you for more, but she remains slack as ever, like an obedient ragdoll under your whims.
Something's not right, you thought to yourself. You pull back just enough to check, and what you find has you swiftly stepping back to give her some space.
The expression alone on your wife's face could send you to jail.
"Shit, are you alright?" You rasp, overwhelmed with self-disgust at the thought of causing Wanda the slightest discomfort. Were you just about to take advantage of your wife without her consent?
Wanda looks at you with regret that you couldn't quite understand.
"D-Did I hurt you?" You dread the possible answer, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.
Wanda quickly closes the distance between the two of you and envelops you into a hug.
"Oh, baby, no you didn't. I'm so sorry I made you think that." She coos, rubbing your back in soothing circles. You sigh against her shoulder, carefully keeping your hold on her hips loose.
"I just missed you so bad these past few weeks, and I thought you wanted to… it's okay if you don’t. I'm sorry."
It breaks Wanda's heart that you're taking the blame for this. She feels annoyed and guilty at the same time, at how apologetic and sensitive you are to her feelings, as if they matter more than yours do.
"It's not your fault. There's just so much to do and I can't get in the mood until I tick off everything on my to-do list."
"I know. I’m sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Wanda chastises and it comes out harsher than she intended. "You're perfect. I'm sorry. I miss you too. So bad."
"I love you." You tell her, burying your face into her hair to seek more of the lavender scent of her shampoo. It used to frighten you how much the little details about Wanda affects you in big ways. But that fear has turned into comfort, and you've grown to trust her enough to be happily vulnerable around her.
It doesn't worry you at all when she says she loves you back after a long, mysterious pause.
***
Wanda starts driving herself to work and attributes it to her inconsistent hours at the university for the rest of the term. Sparky’s in the dog daycare now more frequently than he is at home.
***
Wanda has gone up to take a shower before bedtime.
You just finished scrubbing the kitchen clean after having dinner together, and you're buzzing with the prospect of getting laid tonight. Your tactic to get your wife to sleep with you is to offer her a massage after witnessing firsthand how hard she's been working lately. In a way, you also want to show your appreciation for everything she still continues to do in the household. And although she accidentally burned the lasagna, she outdone herself with the roasted chicken.
It still amazes you to this day that you’re married to Wanda Maximoff.
Making as little sound as possible, you climb the stairs and towards the bathroom. You can hear the sound of water hitting the floor, and you can't help but imagine Wanda's naked body, lathered in soap, her brunette hair sticking to her clavicle. Your mouth waters at the prospect of taking her, pressing her against the wall and reminding her what you've both been missing for weeks. And just like that, your earlier tactic is out the window.
With practiced ease, you wrap your hand around the doorknob and twist it as gently as you can.
But something unexpected happens.
Wanda's locked the door. "That's odd." You mumble to yourself.
You decide to knock instead. "Baby?" You call out.
No reply comes for several seconds, and as you were going to leave, thinking she didn't hear you, Wanda's breathless response echoes through, "I'll just be a minute! Did you need something?"
"Hey! Uh, no. I was just going to–" You suddenly feel like an idiot wanting to sneak in for some surprise sex. "Never mind. You locked the door?"
"Oh, did I?"
"Yeah! It's fine, I'll just use the toilet downstairs."
She doesn't say anything else to that and you awkwardly turn on your heel to actually use the toilet downstairs.
***
You google ‘ how busy are part-time assistant professors’ on the second straight-week Wanda’s been going home later than The Late Night Show with Jimmy Fallon.
***
Your best friend finally comes around and visits you in Westview. Although you wish it weren't on pitiful circumstances that warranted her special skills of exposing people and their secrets. Even to this second, you're still unsure if you really want her help. You can't even be sure of your own sanity. The only thing you know is that you feel more like yourself now that Natasha's here with you. You've made new friends in your new neighborhood and at work, been invited to weekend barbeques and the local cycling community. But the sense of being alone has never been this strong as when you were living in the city, barely keeping any sort of acquaintanceship and let alone a meaningful friendship.
“You know I don’t do this anymore.” Natasha claims with a huff. "And typically, consultation alone will cost you a grand."
“And I never thought I’d ever ask you to do this.” You shake your head apologetically as you help her deposit her luggage in the trunk of your old Mercedes Coupe.
“I still think you’re just overreacting.” Natasha says as she settles in the passenger seat. It's what you want to hear, but instead of pacifying you, they urge you more to dig for the truth of it all.
"Weren't you always telling me in college that Wanda's too boy-crazy to really be with me?"
Natasha rolls her eyes. "Yup. But then she married you, and I lost ten bucks to a wager with Clint."
"You wagered on the most important event of my life?" It's the first time you're hearing that two of your closest friends gambled on your critical life choices. You're not exactly surprised per se, but it makes you curious about what made them choose which side of the coin.
"Well, no," she answers nonchalantly. "We wagered on almost everything. Like who would you lose your virginity to: Carol or Maria. Two beautiful women who had been throwing themselves at you for a whole semester."
"Who won that bet then?"
"Nobody. Remember when we bought you drinks after you finally slept with Wanda? That's where all the stakes went. We both lost."
"So after my marriage, what else did you put your money on?"
Natasha smiles. "None. That was the last of it. It's not right to give odds beyond a happy ever-after."
If she notices your deathly grip on the steering wheel, she doesn't comment on it.
***
Wanda's serving you the cold-shoulder for not giving her a heads-up about Natasha. You try to ask her why it's such a big deal, and she begins ranting about dinner portions and the “chaos” in the living room: some skewed pillows and a bundle of her students' reaction papers on the center table. Natasha is outside, waiting, so you try to help Wanda straighten the room but she merely dismisses you and asks you to drive for take-out.
"If it's too much trouble for you, we'll just get dinner somewhere." you say.
Wanda narrows her eyes at you murderously, as if you've just made things much worse.
"Fine," Wanda says with finality as she walks up the stairs. "Give my regards to Nat."
And then she's gone, but not before slamming the door of the guest bedroom shut.
You're absolutely fuming when you go back to the car and Natasha peers at you questioningly from the passenger’s seat.
"You in the mood for pizza?" you ask instead of explaining why you can’t still invite her in.
Natasha scrunches her nose in disgust. "Pizza in New Jersey? No, thanks. How about Chinese?"
"Sure." you nod in agreement, having already lost your appetite anyway. You toss the car keys at her. "You drive."
-
You're laying on your back, staring at the ceiling. Wanda hasn't uttered a single word to you ever since you got home from dinner with Natasha.
"She used to spend the night every week at our apartment." you whisper in the darkness.
"What?" Wanda mumbles and shifts onto her back as well with an arm draped over her eyes.
"Natasha," You clarify. "So it didn't cross my mind to inform you that she's visiting. It's just how it's always been."
Beside you, Wanda is mute as a statue. She does this sometimes–tune you out. Wanda claims it's her way of circumventing her anger and saying something she might regret.
For all you know, she could be telling the truth. But to you, it just feels like you're being punished.
"Wands?" you try. She rolls to her side with her back to you.
You're in hell every time you fight with Wanda. Returning to normal is not an option unless you fix it. You wonder if it's the same for her, or if it's something as trivial as running out of toilet paper or an expired carton of milk left in the fridge.
"Baby?" you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. "Please?"
You hear Wanda release a ragged sigh.
"We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep."
You nod to yourself and finally let go of the tears you've been holding back. Subsequently, Wanda's cold hand reaches for yours and locks your fingers together. It makes you cry harder, but you can't let her know.
***
Natasha is still radio silent a week after you’ve asked her to spy on your wife.
It's not like her to be slow with the results. You take the lack of news as good news.
***
You wake up in the middle of the night to find Wanda's side of the bed empty.
"Wanda?"
"Hey, baby."
You rub the sleepiness off your eyes at the sight of Wanda’s puffy eyes.
“Are you crying?"
Wanda chuckles, shaking her head. "Sorry, I was watching this movie. You know how I get."
You grin at that. "My big crybaby." You sit beside her on the couch and she snuggles to you.
For a while you stay that way, your fingers playing with her hair, and Wanda, palming your cheek affectionately. It brings you back to years before, when she was merely a close friend who would lay her head on your shoulder while she cried about some guy who didn’t deserve her. Like this, Wanda seems so small and vulnerable. You’ve come to realize a long time ago that whatever she’s done, or is to do, you will always feel the need to protect her at all cost. That was the last strip of armor you had given up when you decided to love her until the end.
Then all of a sudden, you see a flash of brown and you end up on your back as Wanda straddles your hips, her eyes darker than you've ever seen them.
"Take off your shorts." She commands in a rush, her own hips already starting a rhythm. You do as she says, but you only manage to move down your shorts and underwear past your ass, when you feel a finger swipe at your wet slit.
"Fuck. Patience, baby." you moan, feeling yourself get slicker.
"Don't have any," Wanda rasps and she sucks the very same finger into her mouth before taking over your undergarments and sliding them all the way down to your ankles. You've barely kicked them off before she spreads your legs and doesn't waste any time tracing your intimacy with her tongue. Her patience comes back eventually, but you're about to lose yours when she doesn't do anything else other than softly brush the tip of her tongue from your tight hole to the underside of your clit. She does this over and over and over, until your legs begin to tremble from being spread out like an eagle for what seems like an eternity.
You clench your core and try to come just from what she's doing, but it's not enough.
"Please, I need more." You manage a whisper although you're unsure if Wanda heard you.
"I've missed you so much, Y/N." You feel her say against your pussy. "I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you..."
What way? You want to ask, but your brain is too muddled with lust to care.
You could only grunt in reply, before Wanda is pulling away in order to arrange your position on the sofa. You've almost forgotten how physically strong she is, and it turns you on so much, you nearly peak. Wanda grabs both of your ankles and pushes them back, until they're on either side of your head, near your ears. Heat spreads across your face and down to your neck for being exposed like this. Wanda takes a moment to appreciate the mess she's made between your legs, her teeth digging at her lower lip. You can't bring yourself to watch her watch you, and you stare at the same spot before you feel her lift your chin to kiss you in the most delicate way.
"I love you." She murmurs against your lips. Every fiber of your being is ablaze as you take in the smallest details of this moment: your taste that you two shared in a kiss, the mingling scent of your arousal and hers, the endearing sweat on Wanda's brow that's making her more desirable than any lingerie could ever. You'd never admit it to Wanda, but sex was something you only learned to want and need when you fell in love with her.
You smile up at her. "I love you. More than you could ever know."
Her face crumples in an aching manner, but before you can register what that means, Wanda has crawled back to the source of your pleasure and takes your clit in between her lips. She starts sucking at it gently, while her hands work their way to your buttocks and then spread your ass cheeks. In this way, both of your holes are exposed to the air, sending a chill down your spine and threatening to make you come any time soon.
A finger experimentally prods at your other entrance, making you whimper as your slick continues to brim in your cunt hole.
"Wands, gonna cum," you moan as you hold onto the edge of the sofa for dear life. Wanda ignores your warning and continues rubbing at your crimp hole, while her tongue quickens its laps against your clit. It doesn't take a few more seconds before you're bursting, and Wanda plunges her tongue into your pussy at precisely the second you start to come so you don't clench around nothing.
Soon enough, the tremors subside and Wanda wipes her mouth before she gives you a searing kiss.
You're still catching your breath when Wanda lays her head on your chest so innocently, as if she hasn't just given you the best orgasm of your life. You wait a few more seconds for your heart rate to go back to normal, and once they do, it’s only then that you notice that Wanda's still in her pajamas, fully clothed.
That needs to be rectified. Immediately.
Without a word, you get up with Wanda still on top of you. You make her wrap her arms tighter around your shoulders as you bring yourself into a standing position while she clings to you like a koala. Wanda laughs at your attempt to hold her up steadily, simultaneously impressed that you actually can.
"I've been going to the gym whenever my lovely wife's stuck at professoring ." You snicker at your own terrible wordplay, as you plant your feet firmly on the floor.
You miss the shadow of guilt that passes over her fleetingly. "I can see that," she says, biting her lip as she feels your straining biceps. You grin up at her, before carrying her upstairs as steadily as you can while she distracts you with kittenish nibs at your earlobe.
Once in the bedroom, you lay Wanda gently on the bed, your movements slow and delicate as if one wrong move could ruin everything. You start to undo the buttons of her silky top, holding her gaze with a look of adoration typically reserved to deities. It's only fitting because Wanda Maximoff is your religion.
"Wait, can you–" she glances at the night table to your right, and you understand right away what she wants. You quickly retrieve the flesh-colored strap-on at the bottom most drawer. And as you start putting on the harness, Wanda leans forward to capture a dusky nipple, effectively sidetracking you from the task at hand.
"Baby, just a sec..." You chuckle at her apparent neediness. Between the two of you, it's Wanda that's been more in-touch and expressive with her carnal needs. More exciting. More daring. More adventurous. She's always been more in everything, and you sometimes wonder if she's weary of leading the wallflower to the dancefloor all these years.
"Hurry." Wanda whines, her teeth nipping hard enough to play the line between pain and pleasure.
As soon as the harness is secured around your hips, you push Wanda back onto the mattress. You hook one of her creamy thighs over your shoulder, holding it firmly while your other hand aligns the tip of the toy to her slit. Pressing a languid kiss to her knee, you start moving your hips to brush your cock along the length of her drenched sex. Wanda moans lowly and unabashedly, and you feel yourself getting wet again.
"Fuck, baby, inside..." Wanda mewls, her hands traveling downwards to massage her own clit. You grunt in protest and seize her hand, interlacing your fingers together to prevent her from touching herself. Increasing the rhythm of your hips but still not entering her, you give her a warning, “ I make you cum.” It’s not like you to engage in any sort of powerplay in the bedroom, and yet you couldn’t help but let out some of the resentment that has built over the last few weeks through the sex you’re having with her now.
Besides, Wanda seems to love it. You look down just in time to see her wetness trickle down to the sheets. You groan loudly from the visual and roughly position her to lie sideways. You keep the thigh over your shoulder secured, while you straddle the other one. Moisture begins to form at the back of your neck, muscles straining to hold this position. Wanda’s face reddens as you stare at her weeping cunt, before her eyes roll to the back of her head as you unceremoniously enter her in one, powerful thrust.
“Fuck!” Wanda cries through gritted teeth, her French-manicured nails digging painfully between your knuckles. Unlacing your bruised fingers from her, you then wrap them around her throat. You’ve never done anything like this in bed before, and you watch in twisted satisfaction as Wanda’s lust-filled eyes widen in shock and slight panic. The way you're grinding into her is viciously savage, callously chasing your own high. Wanda tips her head back as far as she could, her chin pointing to the heavens as she experiences an other-worldly kind of pleasure. Your thighs grow slicker from your shared arousal, the stench from it filling your nostrils. Her hips try to match your tempo and an animalistic sound rips from your throat as your movements become more and more frantic.
"Shit, baby, I think I'm gonna–"
"No." You lightly squeeze around her neck.
"Please," Wanda sobs in frustration, staving off her impending release. You pay no heed to her request as you slow down your motion to keep her on the edge.
"Say it again." You demand.
"W-what?"
"Say you love me."
"L-love you..." The length of your spine curves as you bend forwards, pushing Wanda's thigh back in the process and opening her up even further.
Wanda whimpers at the new angle you're fucking her with wild abandon. "Jesus, Y/N. I can't-"
"One more time. Say it." You plead against her mouth, increasing the speed of your thrusts again, but this time you’re determined to finish her off.
With a sharp cry, Wanda clenches around your cock and comes, screaming those three fated words that are simultaneously your salvation and your undoing. You try to prolong her orgasm, alternately pausing and then jogging your hips, studiously watching her facial reactions and loving the subtle twitch of muscle in her jaw. A couple of tears run down her cheeks, and you lick them gently from her face. Letting go of her delicate neck, you run a free hand across her back, gathering beads of sweat along the way. Without pulling out of her, you drop her thigh on your shoulder with great care, before pressing your lower body down so that your pelvis is snug against hers. Wanda grabs your face with both hands and pulls you down for a searing kiss.
You release her lower lip with a wet pop and then like an eager puppy, starts peppering her face with featherlight kisses, making Wanda laugh and squirm in your arms. "You're cute," You tell her. "And so damn hot. How is that possible?"
Wanda blushes, overwhelmed by the ferocity in your words and in your eyes. She starts jogging her hips as your kisses become more insistent, but then an idea hits you. Embarrassingly, you've never done this with Wanda before, but this time feels as good as any to finally try it. Wanda shivers as you unsheathe your cock from her pussy, leaving a thread of wetness across her inner thighs. Afterwards, you remove the harness and place the drenched toy somewhere on the floor. Wanda pulls you back on top of her, a sleepy and satisfied grin on her face. She's prepared to call it a night when she feels your hand wandering back to the still feverish spot between her legs.
"What are you doing?" She asks coyly.
Instead of replying, you merely continue to trail south until your fingers find her slippery nub. Wanda gasps, back arching and eager for more. "Lie on your stomach and stick your ass up in the air for me." You whisper in her ear, and she obeys without a second thought. Abandoning her clit for a second, you crawl towards the foot of the bed, until your nose is a trifling inch from your wife's firm buttocks.
"Are you ready?" You husk, planting your chin at the base of her spine.
Wanda is almost convulsing in anticipation, and barely manages a nod. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you spread Wanda's cheeks with your thumb to reveal her puckered entrance. When Wanda finally understands what you’re about to do, her head whips over to look at you, but she doesn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Y/N?” Her voice is muffled by the pillow, small and unsure. You massage the back of her thighs to calm her down.
“I want to if you do.” You tell her sincerely. Wanda appreciates your touches staying in safe zones, making her feel safe and secured.
“It’s just… it’s been hours ago since I showered, it's dirty and I don't want to gross you out-”
“That’ll never happen,” You promise. “Whenever you were snotty from crying over your exes, all I could think about then was kissing you. I'd never not want you, Wanda.”
“Okay.” Wanda murmurs softly, shifting back closer to you. “I’m ready.”
“Good girl.”
You place a pillow beneath her stomach so she can comfortably prop herself up. Wanda’s breathing picks up when you part her cheeks again. This time, there’s no hesitation or wasted second as you lick a stripe from the entrance of her cunt to the rim of her backdoor.
“Да, да, детка!” Wanda yelps in her native language, impossibly turning you on even more. You could count on one hand the few occasions you’d been able to reduce her to a Sokovian mess, making her feel so good she forgets her English. Wanda's flavor there is different, more pungent and oh-so delectable.
"детка, I need-"
Wanda doesn't get to finish her sentence. Knowing exactly what she needs, you plunge your middle and ring fingers inside her wet heat. You feel her anus contract against your tongue, and you take it as a cue to enter her with it. Wanda thrashes violently on the bed and tries to move away from the intense pleasure that's bordering on pain. Eventually, you find the perfect cadence of plunging your tongue into her tight crevice every time you withdraw your finger from her pussy and vice-versa. Wanda, on the other hand, finds herself wantonly humping the pillow, practically grazing her tumescent nub.
All of it lasts a few more seconds before you feel Wanda's imminent little death. You stop moving your fingers to allow her to take over her own release, until finally, Wanda collapses on her stomach. You lick your fingers clean before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You pull the blankets up to cover both of your aching bodies, before settling beside your wife. Wanda automatically lays her head on your breast and throws an arm over your stomach. You kiss her sweaty forehead, and right before you are about to close your eyes, something wet hits your flushed skin.
"Wanda, hey," You search her face, your eyebrows creasing in worry. "Are you alright?"
She smiles through her tears, nodding. “I am now.”
Your own eyes glisten, a wave of relief passing over you. Right now, with the way Wanda's looking at you, it's like you're finally waking up from a long, terrible dream.
***
When Natasha finally calls, you’ve practically forgotten about hiring her to investigate Wanda.
You’ve had a perfect week with your wife. Things weren’t just back to normal, they were even better not only in the sexual aspect of things (though insatiable doesn’t even begin to describe Wanda nowadays), but you’ve been talking and doing things together more than ever.
“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha’s rough voice comes through.
“New phone, who’s this?” You try to joke.
“Hilarious, Y/N,” you hear her try to lighten up her tone, but for someone who used to work for the secret service, she’s terrible at hiding her emotions from you. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to call you since early this week. I just didn’t have the time…”
You’ve known Natasha longer than anyone in your life who’s not your parents. Wanda’s the love of your life, but Natasha’s your person. You understand each other beyond words and actions.
“Nat, what’s going on?” you ask.
“I saw them, Y/N. T-Two days after you asked me to… they went for a movie at a worn-down theater 3 miles from the university. I waited for them to leave and when they did–” Natasha hesitates to tell you how she’s seen them together. “I can’t tell if there’s–if she’s… I can just show you the photos.”
You don’t say anything for almost a minute, and Natasha waits for you quietly.
And then, “Is that all?”
Natasha draws in a long breath. “No.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming. And then, like a man on trial waiting for their verdict, you nod to yourself and square your shoulders.
“Alright. Tell me everything.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x you#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x vision#category: angst#category: smut#natasha romanoff#yelena belova#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maxmoff x y/n#my writing#marvel
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The Visitor - Behind the Scenes
"The Visitor" is my first big story of mine that saw the light of day. In this post, I'll be explaining my thought process behind why and how I made it. In a future post, I'll be explaining my Arhulian species, and my character Niadris in more detail. But for now, I'll be on to explaining my creative process. Firstly, a few months ago I got back into tumblr after finding the blogs of @chocodile and @kwillow. Their characters, their art, their stories. They moved me, they inspired me! Drawing was never my strong point, (I had to enlist @aryeonos to graciously sketch my species reference for me <3) but descriptive writing is something I can do! So through that, it was the avenue I expressed my creation. That said; Ary being my editor and proof reader really helped me achieve a level of polish I don't think I could have accomplished on my own. <3 The Amaranthine characters are so rich and vibrant, I just wanted to write for them. Their personalities just seemed really fun to write for, as well as gave me a clear picture of how each character would behave in a story. A solid baseline for my weirdo badger-pede to contrast with. So I poured over Kwillow's and Chocodile's art pages for information about the characters and the setting. I wanted to respect the lore and setting as best I can; as well as the fact, the more information I had, the easier it would be to write.
Feelin' A Bit Drafty In Here
In a very early pre-draft version of the story (where I was still ideating over it), I thought I would try to tell the story from Niadris' perspective, but Aryeonos felt it would ruin a lot of the mystery and suspense surrounding Niadris, as well as deprive me of character interaction moments for the rest of the cast. So I redid the entire tone and course of the story to focus on the Rising dawn quartet, (sans snoozing bunny) with Niadris being the add - an apt decision since the cast literally considers them an intruder! In the new story format, I thought about Theo being so nerve wracked by Niadris that he would try to poison them, only for it not to work, and for Niadris to then reveal their life-sensing ability to Theo and tell him that they are not mad because always knew where he stood as a veiled threat. The story would have had a more adversarial tone; but then after doing some more lore spelunking, I learned that Theo prefers to handle confrontation openly and honestly as opposed to taking the scoundrel's way out.
So after learning that wasn't a very gentlemanly move, I decided to shift gears and redo the story (again) to what you see today. After that, I looked up the other characters for pertinent lore and information about them. I was already pretty familiar with Hyden, and Theo was the first character I discovered since I'm a diehard rat/skaven fan and always combing the internet for rat characters!
Then came to Alex and Ridge. After having my "cast" in hand, I figured out what to do with them. In the current iteration of the story, I wanted Niadris being self-conscious of their frightening appearance (they've certainly been screamed and shot at enough) and opt to meet the cast in a way that does not end in violence. Hence the Arhulian observing the cast for a long time and then making their carefully planned move. Likewise, first impressions are very important, and Niadris trying to approach the situation in a delicate manner (whether or not it worked) was one of my central goals in depicting them, and Arhulians as a whole. They are far from mindless brutes... Switching back to the the Amaran quartet, they are not my characters obviously - I'm just writing for them - so I tried to make educated guesses on how'd they react based on the information I had at hand. So keep in mind these are my personal head cannons of these characters!
Character Dynamics
Hyden - Due to the way the story was structured, he was not utilized very much. Which, is a shame on one hand, but on the other, it leaves my options open for how he would react in a future story. He could be just as lost as the rest of the cast, then shift to be deeply fascinated by the unnatural being that is Niadris. Treating them like magic buddyTM Ambroys 2.0. (Though he may find it much more difficult sink his roots into Niadris, as they are far sharper, and not blinded by idolism like Theo.) Or, alternatively, Hyden being a time displaced scholar could know something about Arhulians the present day cast does not, and is trouser-browningly terrified. But that is as much as I'll reveal for now. We'll see what way the coin falls. :) Theo - Theopolis North was the most fun to write for. Poor little Rat man pinballed through many different emotions across the story. Firstly, fear. Secondly, he's even more unnerved by the fact Niadris can go toe-to-toe in his smartassery which means it's intelligent. And that's extra dangerous in his eyes. I thought about writing Theo being even meaner and more hostile, but I decided Theo has a few reasons to keep himself reeled in. 1) Theo - though a poorly adjusted meanie - has enough sense to know that trying to stress-test this thing's patience would not go in his favor if the matter escalated. Especially with a thing that could throw him across a room or eat him alive. Unmetaphorically. Best to let a sleeping dragon lie so to speak. 2) I've noted that Theo appears to be a dire misanthrope, so a thought occurred to me that Niadris is just so alien they just end up in a loophole of sorts. And I decided that is a funny dynamic, and I'm going to roll with that. :) 2.5) Theo's aggression seems to be heavily rooted in his own insecurities. Niadris is somewhere between socially illiterate to too logically minded to care. So in a way, from theo's perspective; that's big wall that isn't there for him. 3) As much as it agonizes him to admit, the alternative is telling this thing to sod off, resulting in them just roaming about unaccounted for entirely. At least this way, he can keep an eye on them... 4) Granted, he does not want to admit it outright and 'encourage' them, Theo is personally intrigued by Niadris. Although he hasn't quite put it together it yet; Arhulians are intelligent, sentient, beings that definitively exist outside of "ascension". The implications would be defining to say the least. Theo's name would go down in the books for sure... And lastly, this being gives him a sense of deja vu he tries not to think too closely about. Henceforth, I laid down the roots of what may be the beginning of a very odd "friendship" as hinted at in the closing paragraphs of the story.
Alex - From the lore I got on her, she jumped out to me as the most rational and calm-minded of the group. She's a cool, collected soldier. Her perception is sharp (and unlike Theo, it's not calibrated in entirely the wrong direction via paranoia). Her nature as a sniper means it's natural for her to sit back, absorb information, and think about a decision before making it. Because of this, it felt natural that she'd fall into the role of "team mom" because she's the most level-headed and surprisingly enough, the most socially adjusted of the group. Especially since her competition is: 1) Hyden; a washed up noble that doesn't know what century he's living in - whose social resume is bossing around servants and bullshitting noble asses.
2) Theo; a misanthropic, paranoid, bulgy-eyed weirdo that's a reclusive shut in. 3) Ridge; Likely the best of the three. But if I remember the lore right, it's heavily implied that Ridge was in jail for some time, so I'd wager that has not done his social skills any favors. So with that in mind, Alex is the glue desperately trying to keep (the now) quintet from unraveling.
Ridge - Of the four characters here, Ridge has the least information available that I could find, so a lot of his character is implied from his surface level details, like him being big and brawny, that he had spent time in jail, and is at the very least in a non-hostile relationship with Alex. With all that said, I guesstimate he has the least amount of emotional baggage and personality extremes, so I felt that Ridge would be the best fit for a layman character. Niadris - Beyond what I already mention here, I'd rather keep their inner workings hidden, as they are both a mysterious, and a still developing (both in-universe and in a meta sense) character...
What's Next?
Without giving away too much, the logical path forward to the story is that Niadris is playing it safe as they have never been around multiple people for an extended period of time before. So they take on a passive role to learn and observe the... odd group dynamic the rising dawn quartet have. There will be a great deal of funny character moments and learning experiences for all involved! Over time, Niadris will start to make their own waves as they get accustomed to the group, and begin manifesting their own wants once they feel comfortable exerting their own social pressure. Likewise, everyone is wary of the big, scary Arhulian. But on the other hand, their value as an asset is undeniable! And they would be a pretty definitive tie-breaker should a schism arise... Various parties will likely be setting plans into motion to try and vie for Niadris's loyalty now that this wild card has scuttled their way into the group. With the groundwork of Niadris' and the Arhulians' introduction laid, I have to spend some time thinking about the path forward; as this is the point where things can really diverge, so I must decide what direction the story is going to head in. So alas, I don't really have an ETA in mind for the next chapter of this fan-story.
#theo#hyden#alex#ridge#niadris#arhulian#original species#furry#short story#creative writing#thought process#behind the scenes#verse: amaranthine#fan story
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writer questionnaire
Tagged by @ink-flavored here and @the-letterbox-archives & @mundanemoongirl & @nczaversnick & @thecomfywriter
How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!
I post story's on ao3. But snippets and stuff here and a few months a little before April?
What led you to create it?
I saw a few other ao3 people had Tumblr and I joined...got confused then came back to try again a few days before the boop war and I ended up staying after the boop war due to making a few friends
What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?
The support, getting to see others hard work. Making friends along the way and of course the OC's that we all fall in love with.
What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?
I love talking about books, wips and fanfictions or just your characters or world building. I admit sometimes I don't know what to reply so if I'm silent I'm probably thinking about a reply or you managed to hit a time slot I'm busy or sleeping but I will reply eventually... 0_o
Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?
My mutuals stories, I love to follow them as they are written and get insight into the characters. Chances are you will have at least one oc i will fangirl over and I'm going to apologize now lol
WIP it Good
Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?
The Pirate king of deaths redemption which will be book one of the pirate's cursed god series. I'm thinking it will have 4 stories and 2-3 mini stories
How long have you been working on them?
The idea since I was about seventeen
The plot I'm still figuring out
The characters some are old and some are new...infact two new ones arrived to the story yesterday ken will not be getting a major role he's just a background character.
World building since I was 19
Actually writing started about a month ago in seriousness and little snippets a month before that
Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?
Tbh I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking but it's happening so let's roll with it
But I have always had a fascination with lore and supernatural beings and I was in a pirate phase do that might have something to do with it
How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?
Way to often..when I'm not writing I'm usually plotting out the next few scenes and consequences to it
When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?
No one offline knows I write, but if I was asked the question by one of y'all.
I'd say mostly fanfiction but I'm starting a queer fantasy pirate story...just don't ask me about their cursed god yet as he is staying silent. I figure book to or three he will start talking or I may have to break out the threats again 0_o
What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?
Whatever the characters tell me to write and then I get to have the fun of tagging it 0_o (side note to myself I need to find a place I can find genres and stuff with a base description )
Let’s Rotate Blorbos
Name any characters you created. Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!
Daimhín,Oisìn, Jade,Galen, Briath, Morana, Heather, Coinín, Mal, Adoh, Taz, Amon, Oscar , Rob, Queen Kia, Queen Coral, princess Anne, Hill, Eric, Nimue, Death, Nyx, Davey jones, Nereza, Kieran pirate queen Eris, ken, pirate king cutthroat, and a ton of others who are not coming to mind right now
Who’s the most unhinged?
Amon, Briath and Morana are fighting for the title
Who comes the most naturally for you to write?
Oisìn at the moment, but I have a feeling Jade and Briath will both be easier to write when I get to them
Do you ever cringe at them?
Yes especially when writing certain things, yes I want to include them but some things just don't come naturally to me
How much control do you feel you have over your characters? AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?
🤣 they write themselves mostly while arguing with me so it's a blast sometimes and change things frequently well most if that can be blamed on Amon
Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.
No preferred method I will interact with them all although sometimes I don't get notifications on tags for some reason
I will talk about my wips or OC's or we can talk about your wips and OC's ...or mutual interest or anything you want to info dump on.
On Writeblr Engagement
What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?
I like most genres so I usually just scope for vibes and see what their wip is about or a published/posted work. I'm not picky so I follow quite a few writers lol
What makes you decide against following?
I try to avoid politics I don't mind a few post but if it's all politics I tend to back away or if I see them bullying or harassing people or threatening animals.
Do you interact with non-mutuals often?
Sometime but I usually like to scope people out first as I have stated in the past, I'm shy so sometimes I have to work through that first.
Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?
Yes to list a few
Ari from a starwars fanfiction by @lillybaaaka
Val and Kaz by @jev-urisk
Ashley by @gioiaalbanoart
almost all of @the-golden-comet s OC's
Royston is my favorite oc of @fortunatetragedy s story and that's not going to change easily.
And several others I'll stop listing now or we will be here all day and I do mean that literally.
Np tag @jev-urisk @the-golden-comet @thatuselesshuman @gioiaalbanoart @fortunatetragedy @aintgonnatakethis @lillybaaaka @evilwriter-originals @stars-forever
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hey so ik you JUST got an ask about the waves but. can i ask about the waves too
okay so virginia woolf is like FAMOUS for her feminist novels and to me it almost seems like the waves is the odd one out. i just reread it (and annotated, and underlined, and highlighted, and tabbed, and pronounced it one of my favorite books because HOW COULD YOU NOT ITS SO WONDERFUL AND THOUGHT-PROVOKINGG AND POETIC) and although i love it the female characters seem to have more stereotypically feminine roles. i checked the introduction of my copy (intro by molly hite) and saw that it said "The Waves did not offer such exemplary female characters or themes: Indeed, it gave its female characters stereotypical feminine persuits, while its male characters were writers and also active in the public sphere."
there wasn't much elaboration in the intro however (i might be wrong about this though, i lowkey hate reading introductions it's my fatal flaw i'm sorry) except that later on feminists re-examined the waves and looked at subtext. (like how rhoda is a lesbian icon now bc of the mrs lambert passage)
but still, susan is housewife and mother, a stereotypically feminine role (i adore susan but analyzing characters sometimes means discarding some emotional connection for me) and jinny is the romantic sensualist. idk i love jinny and susan but yk i'm just thinking about their roles specifically regarding gender roles HELP IDK I'M PROBABLY MAKING A FOOL OUT OF MYSELF RN AND AM MISUNDERSTANDING SMTH REALLY MAJOR IM SORRY
i was just wondering your thoughts on this?? i mean i just stumbled across your tumblr a few days ago from this other (kind of boring but likes-the-waves-too) blog and you seem to have really interesting opinions abt the waves !! no pressure to respond obv
Hi!! I’m about to get on a plane to London so I will see if I’m able to get all my thoughts out in time. I’ll begin by saying that I’ve read a fairly considerable body of scholarship surrounding the waves, but none of that was particularly feminism-focused scholarship (it was primarily formalism, biographical crit, and analyses of spirituality, science, & metaphysics in the novel with some post colonialism thrown in), so most of this is based off of my personal analysis and discussions I’ve had with my Virginia Woolf professor. I actually love the women in The Waves, but I think a pivotal starting point is the understanding that all of the characters in The Waves function as concepts and ideas first and as actual people second. With that said, I think it is notable that there is not a female artistic/scholarly presence in the book beyond the vaguely mentioned, never-named woman writing in her room (often viewed as being Woolf herself). Originally The Waves included a narrator character that was female and felt very much like a stand-in for Woolf, and I wonder if that was meant to sort of be the female writer/intellectual presence in the novel but got cut to make the book cleaner. Regardless, each of the women are functioning both as archetypes and commentary on their archetypes.
Jinny is probably the least obviously a critique, but I think you definitely very clearly still get it in some moments where she links sexuality and sensuality with violence and objectification.
I also read some criticism that discusses how Jinny as a character can be seen as combatting the solipsism in the book by conveying the possibility and beauty of living physically in one’s own being & that the flesh cannot be ignored, finding a kind of power and importance in the female body (which feels very cixous second wave feminism). Overall, though, I think it’s a discredit to Woolf to not view Jimmy as an explicit examination of her archetype.
Rhoda & Susan are my girls and my favorite characters in the entire novel. If Susan is not just the most brilliant and breathtaking critique of the wife-mother expectation of women of the time what is. One of the most heartbreaking passages in the entire book to me is when Susan, who found freedom and joy in nature and movement and being one with the outside world (exacerbated by continuous connections between her and animals & nature), is confined to moving exclusively between the rooms of her house. She even immediately evokes the image of the dead mother as she goes. (Additionally, the end of this passage gets into post-colonialist critique, as Susan clearly symbolizes the upper-middle class white women who stayed at home as their husbands colonized India/Africa and directly benefitted from & supported colonization even if they were not actively violently participating)
Susan also holds so so so much anger, like violent fury, the exact opposite of what one would expect from the perfect housewife, and her motherhood is portrayed really as something more animalistic than anything. I also love that her husband is like completely irrelevant to both her and the book; even though becoming a housewife is a horrible restraint placed upon her I think Woolf is playing with expectations by the husband being a nameless shadow and just a vehicle for Susan to get her child (AND functioning as a commentary on the absence of men’s presence and aid in the domestic sphere). I think knowing about Woolf’s opinion of motherhood (continued horror & fascination by it) and her complex feelings surrounding her sister’s motherhood rly adds to understanding why Susan is Like That and so fierce in her nurturing. I also love the passage early on where Susan talks about crumpling the calendar pages in balls and discarding them, her vengeant war against time itself.
RHODA!!! I’m literally getting a Rhoda tattoo that’s my girl my girl!!!!!!! She is psychosis she is transcendence and isolation and mirrors and the waves itself my god. Rhoda is the moon tarot Rhoda is Inland Empire from disco elysium. There is a very fragile membrane between the characters of the waves and Something Larger (my whole capstone paper was on occult spirituality in the waves and my planned future masters thesis will be on ghosts and souls in Woolf’s work), maybe God or the Universe but symbolized in the novel as the ocean of which the characters function as individual waves, but Rhoda is the one for whom this membrane is the most frayed. I honestly don’t know if I have much to say about Rhoda from a feminist perspective other than I find her fascinating and that while I don’t usually encourage overly biographical readings of Woolf it becomes very very apparent if you know Woolf’s diaries and letters well that Rhoda is a mirror of Woolf’s own periods of poor mental health. I guess it relates in that to me Rhoda is of course a woman because she is the most explicitly connected to Woolf herself (in Hermione Lee’s biography, she presents the reading of each of the characters of the waves as members of the Bloomsbury group and Rhoda is picked out as the Woolf parallel. I don’t agree with this reading but it is significant to me how immediately Rhoda is identifiable with Woolf). Okay I’m about to board my flight but if you want to talk any more about the waves or have more specific questions about anything I said let me know!!!
RHODA YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!
#the waves#Virginia Woolf#this is so long but basically uh the women in the waves rock#my prof would have more to say about jimmy and feminism in particular that’s more her purview but !! here’s what I have to say
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OMG HI!! So I just finished reading the latest chapter of your AO3 fic and I love love LOVE it!! I came to ur tumblr because I was hoping for more content and I saw ur post about Königs backstory and god his entire demeanor through the fic makes sense now!! I was wondering abt some stuff in his backstory though..
1. Why did he choose to enter the military instead of continuing math/science studies like his parents wanted him to?
2. He really seems to hate the people he worked with while in the military, so how did his ‘friendship’ with ghost and soap develop?
3. Would he ever introduce us to his family? (I know thanksgiving would be hell in his household 😭)
4. Do you think he’ll ever come to face his trauma? Like would he consider therapy or some other type of treatment?
5. (Bonus question) how do you write such good German 💀 I wanna write König fics but know absolutely nothing about German
Sorry for the onslaught of questions!! I just love this man so much fr
HELLO ANON !!!!!!! im so glad to hear that you're interested in König's backstory - it is such an important aspect of who he is (despite how much he would deny this fact if questioned) and as you said, really does dictate much of his behaviour in the fic.
i love getting questions!! there is no such thing as an onslaught of questions - just keep throwing them at me. often when im questioned it helps me add depth to the characters i write, inspires new ideas, etc. KEEP EM CUMMING !!!
okay. now to actually answering them
a huge part of it was to spite his family, actually. by his mid-teens, he would do just about anything to piss off his mother. yes, he loved his math and science, but it was something he could let go of. he never really felt a huge amount of passion for anything by the time he decided to join the military. his decision was also influenced by his lust for violence and underlying blood-thirst - he thought it would be a genius way to experiment with the anger that was bubbling away at the surface and see how he could release it. finally, he grew up with very few positive male role models. they were all hyper-masculine, aggressive, physicality-based. to him, the picture of a perfect man was a soldier, an army man. he thought it the most logical (and easy) pathway to guaranteed employment.
GREAAAT question. his friendship with ghost and soap started with Ghost. Ghost (in my au) was a few years older than König and had a bit more life experience than him. Ghost watched the way that the Austrian behaved for weeks; the silence, the angered glare, the punches thrown. he saw himself in König, and wanted to see what he could do to help, to prevent him from ending up where he did. it was a slow process to befriend König and earn his trust, but after weeks of quick comments, pats on the back, and quiet early mornings, Ghost finally got him to come around. and Soap? well, he's just an extension of Ghost. that's what he would say to anyone else, including Ghost, but internally, König actually quite liked Soap. his incessant comedy and positivity were both infuriating and admirable, especially in the face of what they were contending with at times. finally, he appreciated the fact that neither of them seemed to judge him for much. they were just interested in his well-being, something that seemingly the rest of the boys were not.
fuck no! he doesn't want his beautiful girl to be exposed to the horrors that plagued him as a child, giving her any insight into the person he used to be. aside from that, he went no contact with his mothers years ago, after she divorced his father. his father only gets a text message from König once a year, normally at Christmas or around his birthday. maybe one day he'd clue his dad into the woman in his life, but not for a good long while. not until he's certain that you're not going anywhere.
another big fat no. on one hand, he knows that something might be a bit off about him, but on the other, he doesn't think it important enough to go and get it checked out. on all the psychological assessments before he joined the military, he lied on every single question. gave the impression that he was fine, because he knew what they expected of his mental health. he thinks it would be a waste of time. he much prefers just pushing it to the back of his mind and taking his anger out elsewhere. if he believes he's fine and doesn't need help, wouldn't those pansies who just want to study him think that too?
HEEELLLPPPP please it is not that good - in fact, i got a lesson from a German reader in my ask box correcting me on my German which from now on i will be implementing. it was all just google translate and blind faith that the Germans wouldn't get me for it. go for the writing!!! just trust that they won't get you too!!!!!
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A continuation of the reblog graph post I made a few days ago, but this time I'm comparing my Hermitcraft art to my CoD art specifically
The left graph is for this CoD post, which currently has ~2.5k notes with ~300 reblogs
The right graph is for this Hermitcraft post, which currently has ~2.4k notes with ~650 reblogs
I've added some of my thoughts as to why this is happening below (put under the cut to not smack you with a wall of text lol). TLDR is at the end if you just want to read that. Let me know your thoughts if you have them! :)
About CoD (btw all of this disregards my artistic ability, I'm just talking about fandoms right now)
The art I make for CoD is based on the newest game and focuses on how cool/hot the characters look, with little to no depth to the art otherwise. This attracts the Ghost simps (myself included lol) to like the post and possibly look at it later, but not really do much more than that
The above point happens because 1) the newest CoD game is very VERY fresh, like not even a month old, so it doesn't really have an actual fandom yet, and 2) the CoD games have a huge bubble of influence on society (much more than mcyt). These two factors mean more people will dip their toes into CoD fanmade content, but not really stay for long. A large portion of the new fans will slide in, do a mass liking spree, and leave when the hype is over. Some new people, like me, will stick around and become part of the fandom :)
The people in the actual CoD fandoms (who have been interested in the various CoD games for years) might like my art and reblog it because they appreciate it (thank you if you do :D), but my art isn't really for their game/fandom. Those fandoms are strong and thriving, but they're small compared to the huge influx of people obsessed with Ghost right now lol
An example of this artificial inflation is the notes on my art of Ghost/Roach. The people who reblogged with tags were very happy to see it and were very kind (thank you!), but the post got less notes than my other CoD art because all of these new Ghost enjoyers have no idea who Roach is lmao (or just don't like Ghost/Roach)
There aren't a lot of reblog chains in the CoD screenshot above because most people who reblogged my post weren't seeing it on their dash already reblogged from someone else. Most of them likely searched for the tags I used on my post and saw the original in the search feed
About Hermitcraft
HC's been around for what feels like forever and trends on tumblr and twitter a few times a year, which is a MUCH bigger influence than most fandoms out there. The bigger the fandom is, the more people will be interested in reblogging and talking about people's posts instead of just liking them and moving on
I'm established within the fandom, with around 2.5 years of HC-related content under my belt. This entire time, since 2020, I've seen the same friendly faces reblog my content (thank you, you know who you are :D) alongside new people. When you post for a long time in the same fandom, people start to remember you. You become part of the fandom itself, a contributor instead of just a consumer, and people start to reblog more
Because I and a lot of my mutuals/followers are in the HC fandom together, it's very likely that a lot of people will see my art on their dash already reblogged from someone else instead of seeing the post from me directly. That's why the HC screenshot above has so many crazy reblog chains - someone reblogged my art, and then someone else who also likes my art reblogged from them instead of me
TLDR; my CoD posts get a lot of notes, but not a lot of reblogs, because the horny hype train is real and I jumped on it at the right time. My HC posts (at least some of them) get a lot of notes AND reblogs because the fandom is large and I've established myself within it here on tumblr
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I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.
Oh fuck.
You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.
UMMM.
Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.
I am an outsider looking in.
Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.
The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.
Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.
In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.
What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.
I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."
I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.
And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.
So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.
Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.
It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.
The question is, would they?
Here I finally answer your question.
So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.
Where do they then fall, politically?
(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)
Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!
The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)
Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.
Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.
Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.
More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.
In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.
For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.
Good for them.
There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”
The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.
Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.
This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.
I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.
It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.
As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.
Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.
This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.
He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.
Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.
Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.
More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.
Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.
There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.
I imagine he stays out of this.
Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.
Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.
And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.
Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.
This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.
Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.
Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.
Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.
This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.
TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.
#long post#twilight#twilight vampires#twilight meta#twilight renaissance#politics#history#twilight history#carlisle cullen#alice cullen#bella swan#renesmée cullen#jasper hale#rosalie hale#emmett cullen
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This morning, I read an article titled “I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts" posted to Refinery 29. The title gives the impression of a journalist disguising one’s self as a “Meghan Markle hater” for the sake of getting to the bottom of something. However, the content of the article is nothing like its title.
Before I go further, let me stress the importance of perspective. My post isn’t an attack on the article’s author. I’ve never even heard of the author before now, and I’ve no right or reason to attack a perfect stranger because I vehemently disagree with the content of their work. Making assumptions about someone solely on what they write is lazy and sloppy in my opinion. I may be lazy and sloppy, but a hypocrite I try not to be. Therefore, go forward remembering my issues are with content, not creator.
The article starts out explaining the origins of the term “Megxit”. It continues with other hashtags, conspiracy theories, and so on. The article even mentions various media platforms “attacking" the Duchess, as well as crude posts witnessed by the author.
Then the name dropping begins. First with Murky Meg, then Sue Blackhurst, then According2Taz, then Skippyv20 on Tumblr, then Yankee Wally. Eventually, names of Royal Rota journalists are dropped. Then people like Angela Levin and Omid Scobie get mentioned, with interviews from the latter. Instead of an undercover sting, we get a “Who’s Who" of Megxit, a few anonymous Sussex Squad quotations, and Omid trying his best to be fair.
What this article accomplishes is very little when it comes to objectivity. The title is a misconception, and the content essentially paints targets on the backs of the people the author carelessly considers “Meghan Markle Haters". The article reduces anyone who disagrees with Meghan’s behavior as racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist nutters. So, not only is the content of the article sloppy and lazy, it also lacks originality. We’ve all heard this sad song-and-dance number a million times.
I guess at face value, it becomes very easy, effortless really, for outsiders looking in to reduce an entire group of people with similar views to the basic stereotypes as old as time. It takes very little thought, consideration, or critical analysis, to assume things because they seem to correlate. But correlation is not causation. Just because some people opposing of Meghan Markle’s behavior happen to be racist doesn’t mean every single opposing person is also racist. Again, lazy and sloppy.
Just like assuming every single Meghan Markle fan is also vegan, anti-monarchy, feminist, woke warriors is downright sloppy and lazy. This author has personally interacted with and found common ground with Sussex Squad people many times. Some even became social media friends. They believe what they do, and I believe what I do. We do not agree with most things regarding Harry and Meghan, but we do agree to disagree and be civil.
So, contrary to the article, not all people “hate" Meghan Markle just because they detest her behavior. It’s important to remember extremes exist for all spectrums. Every topic, especially those politicized or made popular by media platforms, have extremes. There is no denying the fact that there are people who hate Meghan Markle because of her ethnicity. Those extremists who hate Meghan for her ethnicity ironically do not discriminate, though. If they hate her for her ethnicity, they hate ALL people of that same ethnicity.
On the flip side of this coin, is the other extreme. The face is the same on each side because the face represents extremism. There is no denying the fact that there are extremists who see anyone opposing Meghan as racists. Extremists who, by default, view every issue in the world through the lens of racism. While racism is a serious problem that deserves no place in society, assuming racism is the root cause of every conflict is also lazy and sloppy. And the same could be said that these extremists do not discriminate, either. If they see race as the only issue for why people “hate" Meghan Markle, they see race as the only issue for most everything.
The problem with both extremes is when everything and everyone is reduced to racial identity, racism only continues to exist. A racist using skin color as a disqualifier perpetuates racism. Assuming racism is the only reason behind disdain for someone only perpetuates racism. Focusing on race or racism allows no room for content of character.
Especially when people defend Meghan Markle being the victim of racism with a racist rule. When opposing critics say “I didn’t even know she was Black" or suggest her physical features, her Hollywood CV, or past involvement with Black causes were nonexistent before she became a duchess or stepped down from being a working royal, the extremists on the other side often resort to the One Drop Rule.
Which means their defense for calling Meghan Markle “haters" racists, even though they might have never knew she was mixed race, is a form of racism. The One Drop Rule was borne from the Reconstruction Era post-Civil War. The “rule" essentially said anyone who appeared to have Black features were considered Black.
The One Drop Rule was the precursor and eventual backbone to Jim Crow Laws of the South. It was used to oppress and segregate Americans based on physical appearance. Considering most people who never heard of Meghan before Harry came along were ignorant to her mixed heritage, it seems grossly negligent to assume race is the real issue. How can one be racist toward Meghan when they didn’t know she was mixed race? This author wasn’t aware of Meghan’s ethnicity prior to it being pointed out (by her and Harry. Repeatedly.), mainly because this author didn’t care.
Like so many, when I first saw Meghan and Harry together for the engagement interview, I was more excited about a fellow American joining the Royal Family. After learning she was biracial, well it was even better. It represented change and progress. Does that mean I saw the Royal Family as racists beforehand? No. It means I saw them as exactly the opposite. Had they been racist, she’d not be a duchess. Her being American and divorced was more a shock to me than being mixed.
The point of all this is there are extremists on every spectrum. For a journalist to say they went undercover, when in fact they did not, to expose the true motives behind Meghan Markle “haters", only to find they did very little to really understand the other side was disappointing. Not surprising, just disappointing. This could’ve been an excellent opportunity for someone to take the reigns and make bridges between two very passionate factions. Instead it became nothing more than a hit piece.
The article fails to acknowledge the possibility – no, the probability – that most people who object to Meghan Markle do so because of how she behaves. The article only considers one possibility behind this “hate". And by calling the objections “hate", the article in turn defines all criticisms as hate speech. Again, unoriginal, sloppy, and lazy.
So here we have it, yet another article grouping and stereotyping anyone who disapproves of Meghan and Harry as racist haters. Yet again, another article name dropping people “deemed racist haters", essentially painting even bigger targets on the backs of those people. Like they didn’t already have enough hate mail. Yet again, another sloppy, lazy, article that never digs below the surface to understand why instead of assuming it.
This isn’t new, it’s just another slop drop from the sensationalism machine that has replaced fair, legitimate journalism. It would be different if there weren’t so many questions surrounding the births. It would be different if Meghan Markle actually lived by the example she so vehemently preaches. It would be different if Meghan Markle would make amends with her own family before telling the world how they should treat people. It would be different if Meghan Markle were a strong woman instead of claiming to be one.
But it’s not different. She hasn’t spoken to her father since two days before her wedding three years ago. She denies the family connections that existed before her fame. She ghosts people once they are no longer of benefit. She preaches equality and universal service while using her title every chance given. She and her husband criticize the “family she never had" while naming their second child after that family’s Matriarch. All of those are behaviors that incite strong emotional responses. Behaviors. And behavior has no racial identity.
A final note… hypocrisy is the main reason people have issues with anything. When one group of people tells another group to stop attacking a public figure, while using assumptions as their crusade call, it’s hypocrisy. One cannot say “if you can’t take the heat, then shut up!” to another without being a hypocrite. When that happens, don’t be surprised when the same exact thing is said back. If Meghan or her fans can’t take the criticism, they shouldn’t participate in it. We all have the right to choose. Just like if I couldn’t handle the criticism, I’d not be writing this.
Life is not fair. The world is a dark, cruel place. When we expect the world to bend to the will of a few, we are setting ourselves above the majority. A strong woman would know this. A strong woman fighting for others would also know that the only person responsible for how one feels is one’s self. External feedback isn’t responsible for internal turmoil. Internal feedback is. That is all.
REFERENCE:
Amoako, A. (2021 June 11). I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts. Refinery29. Retrieved from: https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2021/06/10518195/megxit-meghan-markle-anti-fandom
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can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick? not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the disclaimer here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:
people are allowed to change. think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves.
so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with.
and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind.
this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person.
i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad.
a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:
90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.
you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)
i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care.
person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.
you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.
there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense.
bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people.
allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone
anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see.
#ʟᴇᴛ’s ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇs ⸺ psa.#/ long post cw.#when i say long i mean LONG#i could do an entire dissertation on this#i could do a ted talk#but ys know#if anyone wanted to do some ahem non-light reading this morning#*jazz hands*#( if you want to reblog this monstrosity you definitely can )
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Me debunking astrology generalizations and misconceptions or smth idk...
Squares and oppositions aren't pure evil.
I can't believe I have to say this because I thought ya'll have learnt the characteristics of every aspect but here we are. Nothing in astrology is black and white. And I saw some ridiculous statements (not necessary here on tumblr) that said things like "if your Venus squares someone's ascendant then you don't find that person attractive AT ALL". Or "Mars square Mercury people can't speak politely and have an annoying voice". Like????? First of all, that's ridiculous. Second of all, square in not "everything bad" just like trine is not "everything amazing". Squares bring tension, which leads to motivation, they’re stimulating; sometimes excitement or charisma; sometimes they can make you overdo things. I'm not saying they're oh-so-marvelous because the challenges are still there, but they're not as bad as people paint them to be. Squares happen between two signs that are in the same modality so they have a bunch of things in common. Besides, some of them (Sagi-Pisces and Gemini-Virgo) are ruled by the same planet so there's a special type of chemistry between those (especially when applied to synastry). Oppositions work in two ways, planets either meet in the middle - opposite signs usually complete each other and fuel each other up. And worse case scenario? Natally this means being pulled in two different directions; synastry-wise, you can completely miss each other like two passing cars - so there may be some misunderstandings but I don't think that's the end of the world... And, as per usual, may be mitigated by other positive aspects.
This is me debunking other people's attempts at debunking Sun sign compatibility.
Sun IS very important but when people ask about compatibility and go with Suns... and then someone tries to be a smartass and debunk the "compatible-incompatible" and does the same thing without even realizing it. Like, "oh I actually see a lot of Aries and Pisces having amazing relationships because *insert someting that is a total stretch and refers to their Sun sign traits*"... But you seem to forget that they're neighbouring signs... which means they probably have personal planets in those neighbouring signs... which means they're compatible not because of some made-up stuff that you're trying to come up with but because their other planets are compatible with each other. But you're still feeding into the Sun sign compatibility talk. (So like, what I'm trying to also say, yes, the entire synastry chart comes into play; Also, side note, everyone can get along on some level if they’re mature enough).
Planet in a sign is NOT the same as planet in the house.
There may be some overlaps in some of the sign-houses associations (like in the overall energy; like for example, it sort of makes sense that 3rd, 7th and 11th are referred to as “air houses” because they’re the most social) but in NO WAY there are similarities between planet house position and the "ruling" sign. That association started a few decades ago and some would say that NOT linking houses with signs is a purely traditional approach. But there’s plenty of professional modern astrologers with 20/30/40-year experience who still differentiate between sign/house position... because they know (and have learnt along the way) that there’s a huge difference.
I'll give you 3 quick examples: Gemini planets and 3rd house planets both may put emphasis on communication, mental stimulation and gathering data. But Geminis are often scattered in their approach, they may be easily distracted, may be indecisive, may be jack of all trades and talkative jokesters. They actually hate routines and dullness. "Spice it up" is probably a Gemini's philosophy. Now 3rd house planets may indicate you actually LIKE doing things on the regular - like running errands every other day in the mornings or going to that one specific coffee shop to pick up a snack. You may actually work in logistics or as a postman (especially if your chart ruler or MC ruler is in the 3rd). Planets in the 3rd talk about your siblings, neighbours or school experiences - like having Venus in the 3rd may point to positive experiences within those areas - something Gemini Venus has nothing in common.
Venus in the 9th can study at an art/beauty or fashion school (or even teach there if the MC is involved); can be very attached to spiritual and religious matters; can also find love in a foreign land. But imagine it being in Taurus - rather shy, needing those stable values to feel secure, being an exceptionally great student at that art school thanks to its domicile. Venus in Sagittarius on the other hand, likes adventure, things being shaken up from time to time, lightheartedness and exploration. But what if we flip the scenario and that Sag Venus is in the 2nd house. This can denote earing money through travelling and looking for ways to expand but in a financial matters.
Continuing with the Venus examples, having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???"
And I'll leave you here with that cause those examples weren’t that quick lol and in fact, I could give you a 100 of those. Besides, this actually inspired a 3-page rant that I've already posted not so long ago that you can read HERE.
There's no such thing as "more accurate" astrology.
Both western and vedic are valid. Both can show you the same things. JUST KEEP THEM SEPARATE AND DON'T MIX THEM WITH EACH OTHER. And don't say things like "sidereal shows your soul" - omg I saw this statement soooo many times, who the hell even came up with this?! Actually, if anything, it's the modern western approach that "psychologized" (yea I just made up a word, you mad?) astrology while Jyotish still sticks to the very real "here and now", sometimes fatalistic predictions of how exactly your life is going to roll out... But hey, reach for hellenistic methods and they can tell you the same things, just with different tools. So no, they do not show different things, it's just their language is different.
If you say you don't identify with your chart then you're just reading it wrong.
This partially connects to the last one in some ways... Switching to a different astrology or different charts is not a solution. Learn how to read your natal. If you say it doesn’t describe you, I can guarantee you that you haven’t studied it properly. (Now this hasn't turned into a rant yet but I may actually do a whole-ass post on this because if I start elaborating on it now I'll end up with another 3-page essay).
Learn how and when to generalize. Also learn how to take generalizations.
I understand that you have to pick up on every single thing separately in order to put everything together. It's like learning a new language: first you need to learn individual words and then you need to know the proper grammar to create a full sentence. This is 100% understandable and necessary, but it's important to take the entire thing into consideration. And this goes for all branches of astrology, but I guess it's especially annoying with synastry. This, again, comes down to the very black and white approach. You know, like when you see those long paragraphs where people elaborate on all the intricacies of Venus-Pluto aspects or whatever as if that one thing was determining the entire relationship between two people. (Side note, no shade but some of ya'll should start writing fiction or poetry cause the amount of fluffy speech and waffle that I see floating around here on tumblr is insane sometimes). Why are you wording everything as a make it or break it type of situation? And on the receiving end - learn how to take *properly phrased* generalizations constructively. Example: it IS a rule that Aries is a competitive one, maybe you're not one of them (for many reasons) but don't make a fuss about someone saying this. It IS a basic rule that energies of the same sign in two people are going to get along (well that depends on the planets involved but I digress), if that, for some other reasons, doesn't apply to you, don't go yelling that it's bullcrap because you hate people of the same sign. You know? Like, learn the difference.
DON'T SCARE PEOPLE WITH ASTROLOGY.
I had a mini-rant on this one a while ago, but I think this deserves a constant reminder (and refers to the last point), I don't want to see any more posts that would say things like "xxx house placements will bring you suffering" or "stay away from people with planets in your xxx house" or, even worse, making a (completely untrue btw) prediction based on one single thing like "someone with so-and-so aspect is going to harm you". And you're so casual about it??? You know there are sensitive people in the world. Learn some ethics. Learn some counseling skills. Don't be ignorant. Don't throw these random stuff at people just like that. And learn some actual astrology cause most of these aren't even closely describing that particual aspect. LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
Ok now I'm pissed again.
Studying astrology and believing in free will doesn’t go well together.
It's not just psychological and spiritual. It's useful to know that western astrology made it like that because there were still people threatening astrologers for using it as a divination tool. So they moved away from the predictive/deterministic aspect of it. Now, I'm not here to change anyone's beliefs cause that's a very personal thing that everyone should develop on their own. But once you start diving deeper into astrology you'd notice that there's a heavy emphasis on fatedness and things being predetermined. That includes both the good and the bad stuff and you should learn to accept that. And with the bad things specifically, let's not excuse it with some "oh that was an opportunity for growth". Like yea, maybe, occasionally??? But just acknowledge that sometimes things happen not because there was a deeper meaning in them... but because you have a Pluto-Mars conjunction in the 6th that makes an applying square to your chart ruler and you were going through a profection year where Mars was your time lord and it transited that chart ruler while making a conjunction with Neptune so you were attacked by a baby crocodile while swimming and it bit off your toe and you got a nasty infection and that’s it (I just made that up btw, I don't actually know anyone who was attacted by a crocodile). So like, sometimes shit just happens and there's nothing psychological about it. Also, I bet your free will didn't want to be attacked by that croc.
#thank you for coming to my ted talk#that was supposed to be short#i can never keep it short#you know how many ideas i had for that house-sign differences?!#i could write an entire book#also i may do a part two#some day#astrology#mercurytrinemoon
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Now I want the story where NMJ is half war god and NHS is half fox spirit, thank you so much xD
based on this tumblr post and Lao Nie’s decision to refer to WRH as A-Han in this one ficlet
on ao3
Nie Zonghui had long ago suspected that his Sect Leader was a madman, but he didn’t really know it for certain until the first time he lost the man while on a bodyguarding mission – his first, and a great honor.
Supposedly.
“It’s all right,” his father said, looking long-suffering, when he reported back in distress. “He’s an adult, our sect leader, and this is a small city with no major threats in the middle of some idiosyncratic festival celebration for some goddess or another. How much damage can he really do before he sobers up?”
Nie Zonghui stared at his father, then turned to his mother, who was also staring at her husband with an expression of sincere incredulity.
“Lots,” she supplied. “Lots and lots and lots, and that’s assuming he doesn’t get himself killed in the meantime. Why would you even say that?”
“He’s our sect leader, have some respect.”
“I respect the boss bull of the herd, too, but it doesn’t mean I let it go wandering around the fields wherever it pleases!” She shook her head, snorting in a manner not entirely unlike a bull herself. “Well, if we’re very lucky, maybe our cousin will knock up a cow while he’s out and about rather than just breaking things. We could use a direct heir already; he’s not getting any younger.”
“We could use him being properly married is what we could use. I don’t understand why he’s so resistant – ah, Zonghui, you’re still here? Go gather some cultivators and go look for him, but don’t kick up any fuss, and worry too much if you can’t find him at once. He’ll be back to business soon enough.”
He was, if by “soon enough” one meant “after nearly ten days” and by “back to business” one meant “still drunk off his ass and waxing rhapsodic about some girl he met and possibly married”.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure the sun shines out of her ass,” Nie Zonghui’s father said, his face stormy. “You still could’ve told us where you went. Look what you did to poor Zonghui, he’s been wearing down his heels pacing in worry over you!”
“Oh, heels, yes, did I mention that my gorgeous goddess had amazing legs, too?” their sect leader asked with a soppy smile and stars in his eyes, totally uninterested in any of their petty complaints. “She could kill a man with them – oh, but I would die a happy man between those thighs…!”
“Zonghui, go guard the outside door,” his mother told him. “Also, tell his younger sister that she might need to be sect leader sooner than she’d hoped, because I’m going to murder this fucking –”
-
Nie Zonghui was there, too, when ten months later his new little baby cousin was (metaphorically) ditched on their doorstep.
The entire thing was entirely too dramatic for his taste, and yes, he was aware that as a person who chose to dual wield sabers he had very little room to criticize others for being overly dramatic, however correct he might be.
They had been fighting bandits – barely disguised mercenaries, really, probably paid off by the Wen sect to harass them – in what had turned into a particularly bad situation. Three separate regiments had joined together to take advantage of a terrible thunderstorm and ambush them at all once and them with their backs against a raging river, swollen with rain to the precipice of flooding, with no way to retreat except by fleeing on their sabers, abandoning the common people they were protecting and losing all face.
The sect leader had been raging on the battlefield, saber in hand, but even he had seen that they would need to shortly choose between death and dishonor; Nie Zonghui, close by his side, had seen how his face was split with a terrible scowl as he wracked his brain for more options.
Then there had been a terrible roar of thunder, and then a flash of light that had blinded them all.
Nie Zonghui had immediately noted the anomality of it, thunder first and lightning second, and wondered it if it was some sort of array working against them, especially when the light had not faded away but grown brighter, causing searing pain in his eyes that made him fall and clutch at his face. But he was a good soldier, loyal and true, and he forced his eyes open to squint into the night, looking to see he did not know what.
Through his sun-blindness, he vaguely thought he could see a silhouette not unlike that of a woman, ten feet tall and radiant as the sun, wearing a dress of nine colors and carrying a guandao in her hand that seemed to reach the clouds, but when he blinked again he saw nothing at all.
Or, well, he did see something: all of their enemies were headless, no matter where on the battlefield they were, their bodies dropping like a loosened string of coins where they had been standing and splattering anyone they were fighting with blood as they gawped at the sudden corpses.
Also, the sect leader was suddenly holding something in his arms when he hadn’t been before.
“What’s that?” Nie Zonghui asked, and the sect leader turned towards him. Nie Zonghui squinted, and suddenly wondered if this entire battle had been a very bad dream. “…is that a baby?”
“Yes,” the sect leader said, grinning broadly. “He’s my son!”
“He’s your what,” Nie Zonghui said.
“My son! I didn’t know about him, of course – apparently he came as something of a surprise to her as well – but anyway she thought that it would be more appropriate for me to raise him, all things considered. A baby doesn’t quite fit her lifestyle. What do you think of ‘Mingjue’ as a courtesy name? Good, yes?”
Nie Zonghui suddenly understood why his parents were always cursing all the time.
-
“I don’t see why I need another wife,” the sect leader said. “I already have a son.”
“Don’t you want to give said son a mother?” Nie Zonghui’s mother asked, her arms crossed. “One that isn’t the Dark Lady of the Nine Heavens, the war goddess you somehow managed to knock up without getting killed?”
“She never specified that she was –”
“Someone needs to be Nie-furen,” the sect leader’s younger sister interrupted, “because I am sick and tired of doing the job, and it’s a little difficult to ask a goddess to do it. So you are going to find yourself another one that’s a little closer to the ground this time, you understand me?”
The sect leader nodded and agreed, which was universally agreed upon to be the only appropriate reaction when his beloved meimei said something in that particular tone of voice.
(He did, after a suitable period of time, state that he wanted to make clear that there was no actual evidence that he had knocked up Jiutian Xuannü and that it was quite plausible that the mother of his heir was nothing more than a rogue cultivator of particular strength and possibility even immortality. If Baosan Sanren had managed it, why not someone else?)
At any rate, they brought him several pictures of women that might fit the bill and who would not be too offended at being asked to be a secondary wife – their sect leader swore up and down that he had performed bows with the mother of his first son, rendering him legitimate, and anyway no one was in the mood to see if the maybe-a-goddess would take offense to someone calling her child a bastard – but none seemed to catch their sect leader’s interest.
“Consider visiting a few brothels,” Nie Zonghui’s great-uncle suggested. “Anything to get you back in the habit of thinking about women of a less divine nature – though of course we’d prefer that she be literate.”
The sect leader scowled and stalked off to go night-hunting instead.
“I don’t like brothels,” he said to Nie Zonghui as they made their way through an especially deserted mountain valley in search of something that had murdered all the local mensfolk in the surrounding villages with especial viciousness. “Surely there’s an option in between.”
Nie Zonghui preferred his sabers to either men or women, but he obediently wracked his brain to think of where people in stories and famous songs found their wives. “Innkeeper’s daughters?” he finally suggested.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the sect leader scoffed, but the very next day, he decided to break his usual habit of staying out in the wild no matter the weather in favor of taking shelter from the encroaching storm in a small inn right at the base of an especially lonesome and nasty-looking cliff.
“We’re always happy to have guests,” the innkeeper said with a somewhat sinister smile – he was pale as a ghost in the guttering candlelight, and his lips looked very red. “My daughter will show you to your rooms.”
The daughter in question was inhumanly beautiful: small and graceful, with a fox’s face and dark hair that fell to her knees.
“Wow,” the sect leader said, staring at her. “You know, I think you could kill me with those nails of yours.”
Nie Zonghui took a look and agreed with the sentiment, seeing that her nails were as long as claws and looked just as sharp, but apparently he and the sect leader had somewhat different interpretations of this sequence of events and plans on how to address it.
Namely, Nie Zonghui pointed out that the lady was obviously some sort of yao or maybe a gui and that she was probably the one seducing the local mensfolk, draining their yang energy and then slaughtering them, and therefore that it was undoubtedly their duty as cultivators – and cultivators of the Nie sect in particular – to put an end to her vile deeds through the swift application of their sabers. Furthermore, he explained, they should take care never to allow themselves to be alone with her in the process, lest she seek to entrance them with her seductive magics and lure them to their undoubtedly violent deaths.
The sect leader’s rebuttal to this line of logic was limited to “I’m the sect leader and if I want to bang the probably-a-ghost, I’m going to bang the ghost and there’s nothing you can do to stop me”.
Amazingly enough, the sect leader did not end up dead the next day – the innkeeper looked just as surprised as Nie Zonghui felt – and instead announced, very happily, that he was planning on marrying her.
“You what,” the innkeeper said, staring at his very smug-looking ‘daughter’. In light of dawn, she was wearing a dress of many colors with a foxfur ruff, and her beauty was almost painful to behold.
“You why,” Nie Zonghui moaned.
“You shut up,” the sect leader told him. “I’ll have you know that my lady here is very clever, literate and well-learned, and she doesn’t at all mind being the second wife. Weren’t you one of the ones on my case about getting a Nie-furen to help managing things back home?”
“I didn’t think we needed to specify that the person in question didn’t murder a lot of people!”
“Isn’t his first wife supposedly a war goddess?” the lady inquired, her clever eyes dancing in amusement.
“Well…yes…”
“Also, all those men deserved it,” she said. After a brief pause, she added, “In my opinion as a totally unrelated observer, of course.”
“See?” the sect leader said, putting his arm around her waist. “No problem. Anyway, she’ll stick to killing bad people from now on, it’s fine.”
The lady smiled. There were many teeth in that smile, and they were very sharp.
“If she doesn’t, I’ll have my first wife discipline her,” the sect leader added and her smile abruptly disappeared.
Nie Zonghui coughed into his hand, but reluctantly admitted that maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as all that.
-
“Huaisang is a lovely name,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, being the best of them at diplomacy when she put her mind to it, although admittedly it was something she did only very rarely. “I think we were just expecting something a little different, that’s all.”
“Possibly something a little more fox related,” Nie Zonghui’s father said.
“Please,” the sect leader’s second wife said. “That would be gauche.”
They looked at her.
“…all of my suggestions along those lines got rejected,” she admitted, and glared at the small shrine in the corner as if it had personally wronged her. In this context, it very well might have.
“Is there anything we should keep an eye out for?” Nie Zonghui said, watching his little cousin carry around his even littler cousin under his arm as if he were a sack of potatoes and not a baby that hadn’t yet had its first month celebration. He would have interfered but for the fact that little Nie Huaisang seemed to be notably more in control of his various limbs than the usual infant. “A tail, for instance?”
“Oh, no,” the second lady said. “Nothing like that.”
“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“It’s very rare for fox children to achieve a grand plot worthy of a tail in their first lifetime.” A pause. “From what I understand, that is.”
“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “…great.”
“You’ll take good care of him when I’m gone, won’t you?” she asked, and when they all looked at her, smiled. “Not for another year or two, don’t worry, but I really can’t stay here that long. Sometimes, a girl’s got urges she has to take care of.”
“The sort of urges where we’d need to hunt down a mysteriously appearing fox yao for having murdered a lot of people?”
“I already promised to stop killing people,” she said sulkily. “Although I do think I made some plausible arguments in favor of a little bit of entirely justified murder in connection with the Jin sect and maybe the Lan sect and, oh, the Jiang sect –”
“Please don’t.”
“It’s not my fault your Great Sects are all headed by men who wrong women.”
“You’re not wrong,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, and Nie Zonghui’s father looked alarmed. “But still, don’t.”
“You’re such spoilsports. But no, as it happens, it’s getting to that time when I need to return home for a while to pay my respects to the older generation.”
“How often does that happen?” Nie Zonghui’s father asked. “Once a century?”
“A gentleman shouldn’t ask a lady her age,” she sniffed. “At any rate, my family home is rather far away and they’re fairly insular, so I’ll probably be gone for at least a decade or so. I’d take the baby with me, but, well, you know, long travel and all. He’s better off sticking with his father.”
“All right,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said. “We understand, and we’ll help take care of him as best we can.”
“I’m glad.”
“We have only one thing to ask of you in return.”
Their second lady arched her delicate eyebrows.
Nie Zonghui’s mother smiled. “You be the one to tell your sister-in-law that you’re leaving your post.”
“…you know, on second thought, maybe I can push my departure out a few more years…”
-
“Before you say anything, I want to be clear right now that I don’t need a third wife,” their sect leader said. “I’m fine.”
“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, not unaffectionately. “You’re not allowed a third wife.”
“And therefore – wait, really?” he asked, a little skeptically. “You’re not concerned about me?”
“Oh, we’re very concerned about you,” Nie Zonghui’s father said. “But not in that specific respect. Some celibacy would probably be good for you, at least in terms of increasing your life expectancy.”
“…my sister is lying in wait with a cleaver to make sure she doesn’t have to take on the duties of Nie-furen again, isn’t she.”
“I’m not discounting that possibility, but don’t worry about it, it’s fine, we’ll talk to her. The Lan sect haven’t had a proper hostess in years either, we can just say we’re following their example.”
The sect leader eyed his cousins beadily. “They haven’t had a proper sect leader in years, either.”
“No, you don’t say,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said dryly. “What a coincidence -”
“You have two fine sons,” Nie Zonghui’s father said hastily. “That seems like enough, really.”
“You don’t think they need a mother…?”
“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui interjected politely. “While we admit that it may be within your capabilities to be able to find a mother willing to deal with one step-son who has been waiving around a saber taller than he is since he learned to walk and has a penchant for the unyielding, unmerciful and very violent application of the norms of divine justice –”
Nie Mingjue’s presence bolstered the spirit of good men, while his gaze seemed to make evildoers itch. He was the most earnestly good person Nie Zonghui had ever met, and also one of the most stiff and unbending in respect to what he believed should and should not be done.
Unfortunate that his standards didn’t seem to match up to the needs of either human law or diplomacy…
“– as well as another who can scheme circles around anyone and persuade them of anything as long as he puts his mind to it and only doesn’t because he’s too busy lazing around in the sun to bother –”
Nie Huaisang liked to file his nails down to something that looked quite normal, but they grew sharp quickly enough if he wasn’t paying attention, and he had a penchant for pranks. There was nothing quite as unnerving as running into a sudden and unexpected ambush and then suddenly hearing the shrill peal of a fox’s laughter, hidden behind a scholarly fan.
“– but all things considered, we’d really rather you - didn’t.”
His mother and father nodded fervently.
“Good,” the sect leader said, though he still looked suspiciously at them as if he thought they were hiding something. “Good. As long as we’re agreed.”
-
Nie Zonghui walked in on his sect leader pinning the Wen sect leader to a wall, murmuring something in a low voice with a very particular smile on his face, and then he turned around and walked right back out again.
The sect leader of the Wen sect might appear beautiful and young, but he was at least a generation older than the Nie sect leader. Not that that had stopped the latter from relying on their respective positions to refer to him in startlingly intimate terms – my dear A-Han, the sect leader would say with a touch of wickedness that reminded one of his second son and the tiger gall bravery of his first – and while at first the Wen sect leader had taken it as a challenge to his authority, an act of brash insolence, it appeared that they had progressed beyond that.
That the Wen sect leader already had three wives and two concubines apparently didn’t present any obstacles either – except perhaps in what those poor women might have to endure from their husband when he returned from the wretched teasing he was enduring. Nie Zonghui felt a bit of pity for them.
Shortly thereafter, he felt a bit of pity for himself. The Wen sect had long dreamed of dominating the cultivation world and sought to increase their influence with the other sects through underhanded means, with the Nie sect opposing them at every turn. Even if war was not on the immediate horizon, the wise could smell its distant approach in the air - the best estimates said that it would take another decade or two to arrive, unless the Nie sect leader took an especially hard stance.
It appeared, however, that the Nie sect leader had chosen to take a different sort of…hard stance.
Ugh.
Maybe Nie Zonghui could conspire to throw his sect leader into a cage with a live tiger in heat next time he felt in the mood. It’d probably be less dangerous.
Nie Zonghui had assumed that the first person to talk to him about what he had seen would be his sect leader, even if it was only to remind him of the general rule that the sect leader had ultimate power and therefore could exercise his own bad judgment in deciding to fuck whoever he wished, but instead it was the Wen sect leader that found him later that afternoon.
A flush had yet to fully fade from his cheeks, and Nie Zonghui raised his eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking directly at the man in front of him.
He did not want to know. Others might, given that no one had ever complained about the looks of either party, but he himself had realized long ago that he had no interest in matters of the flesh under any circumstances; he was very content with that conclusion.
“Is there some service this one can provide to Sect Leader Wen?” he asked politely, and it was only when the sect leader flushed again that he realized belatedly that his words could be misconstrued. After all, his own sect leader had probably already made a similar offer regarding the provision of services…
“Your sect leader has a sister, doesn’t he?” the other man asked, his voice tight and his hands in even tighter fists. “I’m not misremembering that?”
“He does,” Nie Zonghui responded honestly, and not without sympathy for the Wen sect leader’s position. He was given to understand that making certain belated discoveries regarding one’s own preferences could be highly disconcerting, particularly later in life. “But she’s rather different in kind than what you may be thinking, so it won’t work out that way. It wouldn’t work even if she wasn’t already married, which she is.”
After a moment of thought, he added, “Also, consider your predecessors.”
The Wen sect leader’s eyes narrowed.
-
Really, it was the sect leader’s own damn fault that he got himself murdered.
#mdzs#lao nie#nie zonghui#madame nie 1 and 2#wen ruohan#my fic#my fics#the alternate name of this fic was#a goddess a yao and a tyrant walk into a bar to bitch about their boyfriend#but I refrained#atwitchofthewrist
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Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.
YES.
That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!
Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.
And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.
But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.
Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.
This should count as a paper of its own.
Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:
Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.
Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.
Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.
The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!
To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.
The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.
The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.
We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.
People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me.
There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.
I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).
The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.
The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?
If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.
People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).
And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.
That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).
Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.
This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.
People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:
You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.
Let me repeat that:
Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.
So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.
This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.
So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.
Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:
Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.
A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.
Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.
With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.
Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.
But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:
The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)
The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)
The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)
And these female characters only know three endings:
End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve
Get dumped into the hunt
Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something
We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.
Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.
But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.
I hope you people get my point?
Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.
TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.
Peace out.
#Mel answers#pjo#percy jackson#Annabeth chase#percy jackson and the olympians#Percabeth#pjo Meta#Heroes of olympus#hoo#trials of apollo#toa#hazel levesque#piper mclean#reyna avila ramirez arellano#rachel elizabeth dare#pjo fandom#coc#rick riordan#riordanverse
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Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1
Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.
Word count: 2211
This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.
“Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.
“Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.
“If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.
“Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.
“Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.
“Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.
“Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.
“Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.
“I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.
“Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.
Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.
“Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.
“You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.
“Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.
“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.
“I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.
“I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.
“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.
“I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.
“Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.
“I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.
“It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.
“Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.
“All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.
“Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.
Things are looking up, oh finally!
I thought I'd never see the day
When you smile at me.
We always pull through, oh when we try,
I'm always wrong but you're never right.
Oh you're never right!
You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.
Honestly, can you believe
We crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!
And it's not a dream anymore!
No. It's not a dream anymore!
It's worth fighting for.
You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.
Could have given up so easily
I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me
Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for
Just yesterday,
Just yesterday
Honestly, can you believe
We crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!
It's not a dream anymore!
Oh. It's not a dream anymore!
It's worth fighting for.
You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.
God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)
But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)
I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)
We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)
Honestly, can you believe
We crossed the world while it's asleep?
I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!
It's not a dream anymore!
Oh. It's not a dream anymore!
It's worth fighting for.
You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.
I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)
We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.
“Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.
“Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.
“Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.
“So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.
“That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.
“And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.
“Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.
“Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.
“I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.
“Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.
“I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.
“Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.
“Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.
“Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.
“We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.
“Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.
“Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.
“YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.
“We’re all getting signed.” You smile.
“I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.
I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it.
@parkeret I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!
@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!
@cookiebuba
#luke patterson x reader#luke jatp#luke patterson#julie and the phantoms#jatp alex#jatp reggie#julie x reader#julie and the phantoms imagine#charlie gillespie#jatp luke#jatp imagine
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Show Me Some Respect
After working for years as a secretary to General Hux aboard the ship, the Finalizer, life could not have been better for you.
That was until Hux informed you that Commander Kylo Ren would be joining you on that ship. Almost immediately, you both resent each other, but after being forced to spend more alone time with him, you begin to wonder, what's so bad about him after all?
Tags on A03 Include:
-Force Choking (Star Wars)
-Fluff and Smut
-Face-Fucking
-Not How the Force is Used
-Armitage Hux Needs a Hug
-Kylo Ren is an asshole
-Y/N Makes Poor Choices
-Praise Kink
-Choking
-Cum-Eating
-Orgasm Delay/Denial
-Sexual Tension
-Sexual Abuse
-Y/N Goes Through A Lot
-Murder
-Possessive Kylo Ren
-Protective Armitage Hux
-Kylo and Hux Get Along Maybe Twice
Chapter 1: Do As He Says
A dread filled morning takes you by suspense when your boss, General Hux, riddles you with nothing but fear for your first encounter with the menacing, Commander Kylo Ren.
A/N: Hello to readers here on tumblr. I’m a little new to posting original work (especially writing) on here so bear with me as I figure it all out! I hope you enjoy my first ever Kylo Ren X Reader story (I dont use y/n cause I don’t like it, my deepest apologies)
Why’d you leave us?
A faint voice called out to you in the distance, so soft and silky, daintily whispering to you. Despite the initial faintness, it slowly began to get closer and closer, its volume ever increasing.
Your eyes fluttered open, but the bright sun blinded them, causing you to seal them shut once more. Eventually, they adjusted to the light, and you opened them to see so many large, and bare trees stretching towards the sky above you. White speckles, snow, were falling all around you, some flakes even landing on your nose.
It felt oddly peaceful, the soft moss around you feeling more comfortable than your own bed. It encased around you, smothering you with warmth and comfort. You kept your eyes shut, and felt yourself seconds from falling asleep on the slightly snow-covered ground. For just a moment, your reopened your eyes, getting one more view of your surrounding before drifting off. But then, to your horror, you saw that the ground next to you was completely covered in blood.
Your eyes widened in fear as you jolted away from your spot on the ground, and pushed yourself up against a nearby tree. The voice in the distance was coming closer towards you, and kept roaring louder and louder. The blood on the ground began to expand, seeping through the moss at an alarming rate. It surrounded the entire area around you, except directly where you were sitting.
As you glanced back up at the sky, the snow, which had now transformed into an icy hail, had begun to take on an even stranger form. In its image, flashes of their faces blew past you, and with it, followed the sound of their screams and cries. Pleading for help, for you to save them. The smell of burning wood wafted into your nostrils, and that voice in the distance was still growing louder. You knew that soon, it would be upon you.
"Wake up, wake up. Please fucking wake up!"
In a jolt of cold sweats, you gasped back to reality, frantically scanning the area around you to make sure it was safe.
"Just a dream, it was just a dream."
Your breath was sporadic, leaving you a panting and anxious mess as you pulled yourself out of bed. Even the smallest movement caused a massive amount of pain surge to through your head.
"I can't take another one of those nightmares." You thought, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand. You looked over at your clock groggily, and your heart sank upon seeing that you had overslept, giving you little to no time to prepare for the day.
The shower water was freezing when you initially turned it on, per usual. It always felt embarrassing to have to stand outside the door, completely nude, occasionally dangling your finger under the water to see if it had heated up yet.
Over 3 years ago you began working as a secretary to General Hux, and though there was a monstrous amount of glitz and glam thought to come with such a job, it couldn't have been more painfully annoying.
Sure, Hux was somewhat kind and caring towards you, but every other person you pitifully encountered treated you like shit. They'd throw their fits when you wouldn't deliver their papers, shine their boots, tasks they very easily could've done themselves, but simply refused. It wasn't the most difficult job in the world, despite the constant hazing. However, their was a shocking increase in secretaries amongst the First Order. It was most definitely due to the jobs incredible bore-ability, and the fact whoever was placed in such a position would be treated like garbage by everyone they encountered.
You rushed through your shower, only using the time to wash your hair and then yourself. The steam from the hot water had fogged your mirror, which made it hard for you to see your hair when putting it up into two long french braids. You pulled a few strands out in the front, trying to look somewhat nice since your uniform sure didn't help. It was a shapeless, olive green suit, with baggy pants, and thick, heavy boots. The hat that came along with it also wasn't very flattering, but it wasn't like anyone saw you other than your crewmates, and General Hux.
You took another swig from your cup of water as you stared out your glass window and into the infinite galaxy. Your brain decided to alert you of how Hux would be ridiculously pissed off if you were late, as today was one of the days you dreaded most of all since you began working on the Finalizer. The ship would be making its way back to Starkiller base, and you were anything but excited for that.
Several technicians raced by you, heading off to fix some malfunction in the interior of the ship. You always looked at them and wondered if they enjoyed their jobs here, or if, just like you, it was a love-hate relationship.
You entered the control room, staring the other programmers and pilots plugging away at their stations. Though they didn't technically fly the Finalizer, their work was incredibly important. You liked to think yours was important as well, but in reality, it was pointless. Technically, you were Huxs' right hand. As a result, he told you practically anything and everything. So it was more like you were a glorified therapist that followed him around like a lost pet.
"Cadet," a voice said behind you. General Hux was standing at the entrance to the control room, looking a lot more frazzled than usual. "Will you walk with me for a moment?"
You nodded, following closely behind him. Unlike usual, you decided to keep your mouth shut, hoping he would start to explain why he looked so disheveled and unnerved, but he didn't say a word. It was becoming harder to not acknowledge how his body trembled intensely with ever step he took.
"General, if I may ask, is everything alright?" You questioned sweetly, trying not to sound disrespectfully intrusive.
Hux let out a heavy sigh, stopping for a moment to rest against a nearby wall. "I am, not alright," he panted, his voice shaking more than his body was. "When we arrive at Starkiller base, you're going to have to meet The Commander, and I already know you two will not get along."
Your face recoiled as you began to dig into the back of your mind. "Did he mean Commander Ren? That stubborn brute?" You laughed to yourself, while Hux was seconds from engaging in a panic attack.
"This is no laughing matter cadet!" He hollered, his voice nearly cracking at every syllable.
You let out a long sigh. "Hux, I can deal with Kylo Ren. He doesn't scare me at all."
"He should scare you," Hux stated plainly. "My last secretary, before you. He made one simple mistake, and Ren saw to it that the poor boy was eradicated."
Your eyes grew wide with fear, darting away from his gaze so he couldn't see the horror on your face. Hux said it plain as day, if you made so much as one, small mistake, Commander Ren would personally see to it that you were eradicated as well.
Hux groaned. "We both work for the same Supreme Leader, which means I have to work with him." His breathing patterns began to grow more heavy and frantic, and his face flushed with a vibrant red.
You tried to calm him down, as you knew the ship couldn't make the entire flight back without his orders. The two of you had gotten rather close, and you had a lot of respect for him. He'd come in some days looking like he'd seen a ghost, and you wouldn't have been shocked if he had. If the Commander managed to make Hux, your boss, that anxious, you knew this couldn't be good.
After what seemed like seconds, you had arrived at your destination. Just the sight of Starkiller base sent shivers down your spine.
Sure, you'd been their plenty of times, but you never had to willingly interact with the Commander before. In fact, you'd never so much as seen the smallest fragment of his figure. Which would make his reveal all the more terrifying.
As you approached the landing bay, the large metal doors began to open to allow your entrance in. Hux came up behind you, his posture had been perfected, and all expression on his face had been wiped. He looked like a whole new man, and you weren't sure that if you wanted to get on the Commander's good side, you'd have to become a whole new woman.
"The Commander would like us both to meet with him in his quarters before he joins us onboard." Hux said, his voice shaking. You nodded as you took one more look at the hull of the control room, not sure if it was your last.
The pair of you made your way from the control room, to the landing bay. A small craft would take you from the Finalizer to the bay on Starkiller, but you wanted nothing more than just to stay put. There were ways where you could completely avoid the Commander for the entire duration he was here, you hoped. You would just have to hide in a waste bucket every time he came near Hux, and that didn't seem so bad. You groaned, glancing over at Hux as the cruiser landed rather dramatically at the center of the bay.
“Hux, he’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”
He sighed, placing an awkward arm on your shoulder, his attempt at comfort. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
As the pair of you walked down the long hallways of the Starkiller base, it felt as if you were walking to your doom. Which, in reality you probably were. Two stormtroopers had been sent to escort you from the ship to Commander Rens' quarters. They didn't say a word the entire trip to said quarters, despite Hux's several attempts.
Eventually, the four of you arrived at what you presumed to be the Commander's meeting room. The two troopers walked up to the door, placing a loud knock on it to signal their arrival, and then stationed themselves on either side of it. Hux took in a deep breath as he began typing into a small keypad attached to the entrance, and then, the door was open.
"Commander, my apologies on us being later than normal." Hux said, walking through the doorway to the meeting room.
"Oh Gods."
Commander Ren looked like nothing you had expected, though you couldn't really see all of him. He was tall, absolutely massive, his muscles practicality protruding from his sleeves. But his face, you couldn't see so much as an outline of that. Covering it was a thick, solid metal mask, breathing canal and all. He was a true Vader knock off.
He slowly turned around, a feeling of pure rage wafting off of him. For a brief moment, you were certain he was seconds from smashing Huxs' head in, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. His head titled from Huxs' body to your own. Though you couldn't see his facial expression underneath that mask, you new it was one of disgust.
"Who are you?" He asked, gesturing in your direction. You arched your eyebrows in confusion, could he not tell just by simply looking at your uniform?
"No answer?" Commander Ren scoffed.
"I'm his secretary, Commander," you stated, gesturing in Huxs' direction, "didn't you request my presence here? "
He shook his head, placing a hand on the front of that intimidating facial shield. The movement made it look as if he was gaining a headache from your small amount of talking. "This is who you had replace the old one?" Commander Ren hissed, "have you no shame, Hux?"
"Ren, she is very talented in her work and a fantastic secretary," Hux responded, glancing over in your direction. "She has made a fantastic replacement." You smiled, happy to know Hux would still show you some form of kindness around the Commander.
"Hux," Commander Ren stated, "I'll trust your judgment here." He approached Hux slowly, giving him ample time to make your poor General tremble in fear. The Commander stopped inches from his face, his mask nearly touching the tip of Huxs' nose.
"If she makes so much as one mistake, she's gone."
Your face recoiled in disgust. "Well, what the fuck?" You thought to yourself. Did he actually doubt your abilities that much? Or was this all some sort of twisted test of your competence?
The Commander darted his head around, glaring at you in rage. Your body went completely stiff as his masked gaze penetrated your mind. A trill of pain surged through your temples, like something was digging around in your brain for any scrap of information. "That language of hers will not be tolerated either." He spat, looking back at Hux.
"My what? The hell is he talking about? I have yet to swear!" Your brain was spiraling out of control, and that trill of energy still surged throughout your brain.
His ego was disgustingly immense, not to mention he was a delusional idiot. The fool was making up down right lies about you, and to wait gain? He was already addressing Hux in such a disrespectful manner, he didn't need to take it out on you as well. But what even gave him the right to talk down to Hux in such a manner? He wasn't in any better of a position to lead than the General was, not to mention the fact that Hux was a lot easier to deal with, and a lot less moronic.
Commander Ren stood in place, his body shaking violently with rage. Huxs' body was also shaking, but his was out of fear. This was the first time you'd ever seen Hux so threatened by anyone. Usually, he presented such a mass amount of authority and dictation. But here, he was nothing more than a coward.
The Commander gave you an over-the-shoulder glance, and in that moment, you felt time stop. The world around you faded into black. Now, only you and him were in that room, and fear and panic began to rapidly set in. Your body had turned chillingly cold, and air escaped you.
A flash of light hit your eyes, his leather glove reflecting off the overhead chandelier. Before you could get a warning out, he slammed his fist into the wall next to Huxs' head. His curled hand punctured the metal frame, sending hundreds of small electrical sparks flying, leaving bare and broken wires in its wake.
"You teach her to show me some respect, or I will" Commander Ren hissed, his clenched fist now inches from Huxs' face.
Hux folded onto the metal floor, panting uncontrollably as the Commander hovered menacingly above him. You stood gazing at the pair of them, completely motionless, gulping down the fear that was now lodged in your throat. Your pupils shook in horror at what you had just seen, how absolutely horrid your new ship companion was.
Commander Ren glared at you, watching as every inch of your body trembled at his presence. He scoffed, storming out of the room with a prompt slam of the door, the sheer force alone causing you to jump. You looked back at Hux, whose forehead was drenched in sweat, and a slight tremor was visible on his hands. Carefully, as not to frighten him more, you reached down for his hand, an effort to help guide him up off of the floor.
"General..." You pleaded, wrapping your hand around his own as you began to lift. Hux shook you away, pulling himself off of the ground, trying not to show weakness. It was obvious that he was embarrassed of your viewing of his encounter with Commander Ren, but he shouldn't have been. All that quarrel showed was the fact Commander Ren was a prissy little bitch, and tyrant.
Hux dusted off his long coat, and smoothed back his red hair to its original, kept manner. He bit his lip, holding himself back from lashing out against anything the Commander had just done. You hoped he would do it anyway, give you some sort of hint that he too hated Commander Rens guts. But instead, he stared intensely at the door, his eyes becoming bloodshot with rage.
"If you want to make it out of here alive," Hux gulped, "you must to do as he says."
You scoffed in disbelief. "Hux you cannot possibly believe that," you cried. "He isn't as high and mighty as he claims to b-"
Hux slammed his hand over your mouth, his bare fingers tracing over the lining of your lips. His eyes stared painfully into your own, showing so much fear and uncertainty. "I told you to do as he says!" He hollered, the veins in his neck protruding from his already rose colored flesh. Hux removed his hand from over your mouth, and with another brush of his cape, he was gone out the doorway too, much less dramatically than the Commander.
You turned around, looking at the meeting room remorsefully. Your life had just flipped completely upside down, and you know now that you had no say in anything that would happen to it. Hux obviously wasn't going to be any help in standing up against Commander Rens' tyranny, so it looked like you were on your own.
And you hated being on your own.
You walked back to the ship with shane covering your entire body. Every person who passed by you, whether it was a technician or a stormtrooper, seemed to be mocking you. While that wasn't at all the case, Commander Rens' doubt of your capabilities made it seem like everyone else doubted them as well.
As you turned a corner, so flustered and furious you didn't even know what planet you were on, another secretary slammed into you, spilling an incredibly hot and sticky liquid all over your uniform. "Oh my Gods, I am so sorry!" The girl whimpered, reaching for a cloth towel at her side to try and help dry you off.
You clenched your jaw tightly, worried all your rage might come flying out at her. She looked to be so incredibly overworked and stressed, just like you were about to be. You wondered if she had ever dealt with Commander Ren, or maybe her own General was just as terrible as he was, though you doubted that was humanly possible. You hated to admit it as much as the next person, but the treatment of secretaries, especially those that were female, could not have been more horrendous. Every one you had encountered had a horror story, or was currently living through one. Thankfully, your first job was with someone like Hux, a lot more patient and caring than any other. Thoughts crossed your mind of how awful your life would've been if your first job was to Commander Ren. Just the idea alone sent shivers down your spine.
The girl finally finished drying off the excess with a little help from you, but your clothes were soaked with whatever fluid she dumped onto you. Her eyes slowly began to swell up with tears as she stared at your ruined uniform.
"Hey," you said, taking her hand in your own. “There’s no need to cry. I'll go clean it myself, and it'll be good as new, don't worry."
She sniffled, reaching her other hand up to wipe the tears off of her face. Never could you have managed to snap at that girl, because you knew exactly what kind of suffering she was going through, as you had just dealt with the worst of it all. The girl hugged you in gratitude before scurrying back to wherever she came from, getting a replacement for the drink she had dropped. You took in a deep breath as you dreadfully looked down at your tarnished gown. Starkiller base was not somewhere you were familiar with, so finding a washroom was going to be far greater task than it should have been.
For what seemed like hours, you scanned each and every room across the vastness of the ship, hoping to finally find an area for you to clean off your soiled uniform. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a stormtrooper exit a room with a fully washed, black undergarment, and you knew you had finally found your sought for destination. Rushing into the room, you hoped no one else would be inside, so you could quickly rip off your uniform and wash it without anyone seeing you in nothing but a bra and underwear.
Thankfully, no one was inside the washroom, giving you ample time to strip practically nude, and lock the door behind you as to not allow anyone to barge in.
Staring blankly at the machine that scrubbed and cleansed your attire, the chill of the empty room you sat in was beginning to sting your bare skin, your hair sticking up and goosebumps forming across every inch of it.
The process could not have taken any longer, but finally, it was washed, and ready to be moved to the next machine for drying. Minutes passed by as you sat in the cold and ever darkening room, rubbing up against the warm drying machine periodically as to not die of hypothermia.
"For God's sake, can you just hurry up!" You cried, slamming your foot against the machine, hoping that would throw it into a faster gear.
It did no good, the machine kept carrying on at its slow pace, causing nothing but agony and frustration on your part. You groaned, flopping back into the chair you had been sitting in, only for it to crumble into a hundred tiny pieces as you flopped yourself onto it.
"Mother fucker!" You groaned, lifting yourself off of the cold, metal floor. A bruise was clearly about to form upon your ass after that downfall.
"Language, cadet. That mouth will get you nowhere."
You spun around quickly, leaving your bra-covered breasts completely exposed to the eyes of Commander Ren, who now stood perfectly centered at the entrance of the washroom, the door closed behind him. Your eyes jolted to the lock that was now unfastened on the doorway, yet upon making eye contact, it clicked back into a locked position. Looking down, you noticed Commander Rens' finger was out of place from the rest of his clenched fist, and though at first you had no idea how he managed to weasel his way in here, now you did.
"The force?" You questioned in the back of your mind, watching the pointer finger retreat back to its clenched position.
His head tilted down, obviously showing his gaze had shifted from your eyes, to your almost fully naked body. You covered as much of yourself as you could, feeling completely flustered that so much of you was exposed to his eyes.
"What?" You asked. "Planning on insulting me again? Just get out."
"You're hung up on that?" He questioned, letting a small chuckle escape his throat. "I could have said so much worse."
You rolled your eyes at him, now hoping to make him so angry he would storm out like he did before. "Good for you, Commander. I'm sure you could've."
Silence reigned in the room longer than you would've preferred it to. You had hoped he would make some ridiculous, insulting statement so you could fire back at it, but he was silent.
"Do you mind?" You questioned, tilting your head towards the doorway so he could take the hint to leave.
"The ship was supposed to depart exactly 17 seconds ago," he remarked, keeping his gaze on your chest area, "Hux was going to be sent after you, if I didn't choose to."
You curled your lip sarcastically, letting out a small laugh along with it. "Well thank you so much for that, sir," you said sarcastically, again, gesturing towards the door in hopes that he would leave.
There was a long pause, giving you time to reflect on what he had just said. He would've had no knowledge your uniform had been soiled, tarnished by that poor girls dropped beverage.
So how the fuck did he know you were here?
He stood motionless. The only noise he exuded was the almost asthmatic breathing sounds from his mask. "Finish whatever task this is." Commander Ren instructed, finally moving his gaze away from your body.
He turned to the doorway, giving you a final glance before opening the door, and exiting the room. You stared at the metal frame in disbelief, the fact the Commander had just seen you in arguably your most venerable state was horrifying and embarrassing.
A slight movement on the door caught your attention, as the knob shifted back to its locked position. "Jeez, how kind of him," you scolded, turning back to the dryer that had finally finished its job, of course, right after the Commander had left.
After unlocking the door to the washroom, adorning your freshly cleaned uniform, you sprinted down the halls towards the bay. Thankfully, there wasn't a line of people standing outside the washroom waiting to use it themselves. For if they had seen the Commander in there with you, things would have just gotten so much more complicated.
You marched down the halls, now thinking about how ridiculously awkward your next several months of encounters with the Commander would be, now that your second meeting with him was when you were practically naked.
“Gods. This day cannot get any worse."
#star wars#kylo ren#ben solo#adam driver#kylo x you#kylo x reader#general hux#love triangle#smut#star wars fluff#sequels#stormtrooper#x reader
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