#for the very few people aware of my financial situation……that thing has just happened. like a few hrs ago. very wild stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alifeasvivid · 6 months ago

Note

Hello I recently read your headcanon about Hetalia's interpretation of American Independence just being Alfred's fantasies and I am so curious about what Arthur and Alfred's relationship is in this reality where Arthur never cared and Alfred is totally aware of that - is Arthur still in love with Alfred? Would Alfred trust those feelings? I am in AGONY

Hi! good questions! And this gets a little long so it gets a "read more" I implore you to please read it very carefully because, for better or worse, I've been developing these thoughts since 2009 and I can only try to summarize them here.

So my headcanon is that my headcanon IS canon but from the perspective of "what actually happened". All we really ever see about the American War for Independence is very distinctly ONLY Alfred's point of view in the storage closet strips/arc. We never really see Arthur's point of view, nor anyone else's (to my knowledge. I've been around so long it's possible I've missed something >.> LOL)

The problem with that is the way this period in history is taught in American public schools is basically all propaganda, which is something I actually learned because of Hetalia and it was very eye opening for me. A lot of people who didn't like usukus would sneeringly say that Great Britain didn't even care about the 13 colonies, that they weren't even that important, etc etc. (I've mentioned this a few times on my blog, I'll see if can dig any of them up at some point LOL) So I started digging into it and they were... somewhat correct. The colonies that would eventually form the US were not the most important nor most financially lucrative for Britain and Parliament had to oppose the rebels *mainly* to prove to the other colonies that rebellions would not go unopposed.

And the problem with all THAT is that Hima seems to have only ever absorbed that propaganda. What happens in the storage closet arc is so out of line with what actually happened IRL that I like to speculate that this story is what America tells himself.

This follows from my headcanon that America has been in love with England (in some form) since the very beginning of his existence. But England didn't see him that way at all. He loved America as a little child in a kind of selfish way that he knew America was always across the sea, always happy to see him when no one else was. IMO, part of America's desire to become independent was to show England that he was grown up, that he wasn't a kid anymore, that he could be England's partner/lover, but England was still fixated on this idea of the smiling sunshine little boy across the sea and this blinded him to what was really going on.

Side note: I have a whole bunch of adjacent headcanons that England felt so betrayed by the America's rebellion because he *thought* he gave America the world, gave him protection and care, things that he himself did not have as a child and so America was being horrendously ungrateful. And I also have some other relevant headcanons about how America is more like the Eve to England's Adam, which I also think is more in line with actual history: England tore out a piece of himself and flung it across the ocean where it grew into his own soulmate. I have so many posts about this because I think it's so deeply romantic and I love it, but I can't seem to find rn I'm sorry T_T...

Okay continuing on... so my theory is that what we see in the Hetalia canon aka the storage closet stuff is America's fantasy, mainly in a situation where he still believes his love is unrequited. He wanted England's attention so badly, but the reality is that part of the reason Britain lost the war IRL is because their resources/military were stretched waaaaay too thin. They didn't have the troops available to successfully oppose the rebels and Parliament deemed that other conflicts/locations were more worth committing to, mainly for financial reasons. So England wouldn't have been there, his priorities would have been somewhere else, it's not that he didn't care. I also think that whatever Parliament thought, England, as in Arthur, cared a LOT and he was so angry and hurt that he didn't want to face Alfred and that Alfred's betrayal (in his mind) is part of what drove him into high gear as far as imperialism is concerned: "Fine, if no one will love me, then they'll all fear me"

America wanted England to be there at the end of the revolution, to show that he did care, that America mattered to him, that it mattered to him that America was leaving, so he came up with this fantasy (which is actually kind of in line with how the founding of the US became so mythologized, IMO), but in my headcanon, what we see in the actual canon exists only in his mind, the rest of actual canon is still the same, as in, England and America reconciled and became good friends during and after WWII and that's when their relationship gets really repaired... America feels more like he's actually grown up and England can finally consider "forgiving" him for the perceived ungratefulness and begin to see him as an adult.

As to your question about how this headcanon changes things for England... it doesn't. England has his own perception of what happened in his mind and perhaps it isn't deliberately a fantasy, perhaps it is more in line with the "reality" of what happened, but in my headcanon, it changes nothing about him and his actions in actual canon. He just doesn't see America as someone he could have romantic or sexual feelings for until that time around or after WWII because before that, he still emotionally views America as a kid even if he knows logically that America isn't anymore--he still has those lingering memories from long ago, but seeing America during WWII is a real shock to his system like... oh, oh shit he's hot what the fuck! meanwhile America has been pining for England since around the 1740's LOL. England doesn't have to been in love with America all along to be in love with him now.

In my version, I think once America and England actually get together, America can maybe let go of his fantasy version of the revolution. It's not that England never cared, it's that America saw their relationship one way and England saw it another way and those ways were fundamentaly incompatible.

The truth, irl, is that Great Britain/England is so old that of course the American War for Independence is but a tiny blip in its history, but it's the literal birth of the United States so of course it matters way more to us and this is partly my way of accounting for the discrepancy and for fitting in how the ACTUAL history makes for much more interesting usukus ideas and a deeper connection between them so it's actually the opposite: it's not that England isn't in love with America, it's that he has no idea he's in love with America and just how deep in his heart that love is. America is very aware of it and is just trying to get England to see it, but in the meantime, his heart hurts that he wasn't given the consideration he thinks was more befitting their relationship and the "fantasy" is his way of soothing himself.

I apologize that this got so long LOL. I hope this answers your questions, let me know if you need clarification on anything ^-^

#headcanon #spadian meta #(maybe my new tag for hc's... it was annoying that I couldn't find other posts easily P:)

11 notes · View notes

sunset-of-the-void · 6 months ago

Note

okay ive been trying to organize my thoughts forever and its not exactly working so. i'm just gonna launch things in as short and concise as i can make it so i dont ramble incoherantly forever (/lh)

so,, i'll start with my perception of norton, because by god i think i should think about him more,,,

i'm not gonna touch on his mom because i have no clue what the fuck happened to her honestly, but i think norton's dad has always been kind of. accidentally distant? like in a way you could tell he cared for his son, but there was probably always an air of stress/tiredness about him (similar to norton as he aged) that got worse from the black lung and aging, and also the way that they were never guarenteed to have necessities all the time was something that occupied his mind a lot. (i imagine personally that while the two were never close, norton could understand the reasons why hence choosing to stay by his side once he fell bedridden)

also, while norton probably didn't work in the mines for his entire life, he'd probably do small jobs on the side to help out with funds, especially considering his lack of an (official? authentic?? i cant recall the word im looking for) education in canon, so you know. he's been aware of the concept of money and status for a while i'd assume, even moreso when he starts working in the mines as a teenager (which i'd assume is when his father's illness starts worsening as well) and people there are just. ruthless i'd imagine. considering in his trailer he looks (debatably?) younger than the other men it's probably from both a mix of him being a newer worker and possibly being worse off than them as well plus the stress on him having to be the only provider for two people, one of which is ill as well, as a teenager proobably doesnt help much with the situation either...... i've not much to add other than this, though touching on his personality in the manor, despite being reserved and a liittle grumpy he is very sweet once you get past the walls he put up! he's the type of person to help someone who needs it (albeit he may make a show of being reluctant about it) but he does know what its like to struggle and how much a helping hand could mean to someone. he's still very empathetic in my mind :]

very very briefly onto andrew because if i dont limit myself this will be soo much longer. but i'll try not to get too excited and i'll cut out most of his life (pretty much all of it up to about laz cemetary)

so basically andrew also had similar situations being born in poverty, while norton managed to gain financial security as he became a prospector (i think?) andrew didnt really. get that at all. even when working with laz (if he did, there wouldnt be a reason to be tempted by grave robbing, right???) and i personally assume people would price gouge him for the sake of him being "impure" or whatever, so even with the pay from mikhail/percy it never really lasted quite long enough,,,,

andrew only left after getting caught by marshall, and fled immediately after the (accidental) murder. (to summarize it shortly andrew panicked and stabbed him a few times with the shovel and then accidentally buried him while he was still alive in a nearby patch of dirt) and he showed up to the manor with. practically nothing. he had a change of clothes, his shovel, and some trinkets that were dear to him, and to me he kind of traveled on foot the nearly whole time to the manor (using the funds he had left from the final deal of the "slabs" to take a train as far as he could with the money)

so now like.. the actual current important thing (sorry dhsjdjfj......)

once andrew shows up to the manor he's in ah. generally pretty bad shape. and people kind of have one of two reactions of either "wow this guys one of the stranger ones" or "this guy needs. a lot of help" (depending on how you look at it) and norton kind of realizes almost immediately from andrew's general anxious demeanour and gaunt figure that he has nothing going for him, so why would he make that worse?? plus in the manor norton kind of gravitates away from nobility/aristocracy i believe and andrew is very. noticably not either of those, andrew is just grateful that norton's not reacting negatively to his very presence and he puts a lot of trust in norton. (like, norton gets a fuck ton of life stories that luca and emil dont hear about) im working on a fic of their first technical interaction and im not sure if i'll ever finish it since ive been stewing it since like.. april but they're cute to me

Hello! Very excited to read through this

To be honest i dont think norton's mom is mentioned like ever. At least in nothing i personally have read. I do agree that hia family would have been distant. They were in living in poverty and it puts a strain on anyone much less a family. To me it aids in norton's cutthroat nature of just having a life of anything but the suffering of poverty.

I would love to read the fic once you finish it! I really like andrew and norton getting each other as they have both been ostracized from society for being poor and then for Andrew being albino! I was going to have a lot more to say but i dont think it would have added much to this. I will be marinating on thoughts for this thank you so much for the ramble friend!

#thanks for the ask!#so sorry it took be so long to get to #ive been busy #but seriously thank you #info dumps make my day

6 notes · View notes

thessalian · 1 year ago

Text

Thess vs Spoon Deficit

This is going to be one of those points where I’m just not okay with this disability bullshit.

I mean, I cope, for the most part. I like to think I cope. Sure, I complain a bit, but I do shit. I get on with my life. But there are some times when the spoons I need for “Eh, I’m pretty much used to it” just aren’t there anymore, and I just wind up with, “Why me?” running around in my head. It’s self-pitying bullshit and I hate it, but it feels like a pretty valid question. Even if I know the answer is “There is no ‘why’; shit just happens”.

Hell, especially when I know the answer is “There is no ‘why’; shit just happens”.

I’m tired of needing a cane. I’m tired of having a pinched nerve that would have just been an annoyance a few years ago fucking cripple me for three days, because my pain response is always set to “I hurt” and anything that is actually hurting me is ten times worse as a result. I’m tired of having to carefully budget spoons for shit I actually need to do, and all too often having to cancel things I really want to do because all the spoons had to go to things I wouldn’t have given a second thought to a few years ago.

I think most of all is that I’m tired of dealing with this shit alone. Don’t get me wrong; I love having my space. I love my flat despite its many problems that should have been fixed years ago - I can hardly complain about my stepfather’s procrastination when at least I have a roof over my head that I’m not going to lose to economic bullshit, and for which I don’t have to work a full-time job or argue with the benefits people. (Because seriously - the benefits agencies here will refuse benefits to people who are undergoing radical chemotherapy, so I don’t think they’re going to have a lot of sympathy for fibromyalgia.) Just ... I have to clean. I have to dust, run the vacuum, scrub the bathroom, wipe down the kitchen surfaces, take out the trash and recycling. I have to cook, and do the dishes by hand. I have to manage the laundry. I have to go out for the things I accidentally forgot to pick up in the big online grocery order (or the things that it’s not prudent to pick up until nearer the time of cooking, because storage space), or things that weren’t available when they were packing my shopping, or for things I can’t order online. All of this takes so many more spoons than it used to, and leaves me with very little to actually just ... do other things.

But ... I mean, there’s no one else. I mean, my parentals could help with some of it, but I refuse to ask them to come over and clean up my mess, no one touches my laundry but me, and I’m not sending them out to the shops on my behalf because I don’t carry cash to reimburse them and they’re aware enough of the economic nightmare this country has become that they’d start fussing over my financial situation. (Which is essentially fine, by the way; I just don’t have it in me to have that conversation.)

This is my way of saying, “I have to go out for mallet meds and some other groceries and I haven’t recovered the spoons I spent during this fairly hellish week and my right arm’s still having twinges and the pollen is turning my sinuses into fibreglass and pain and I am not coping today and am tired of suffering”. Clearly I am in spoon deficit right now. I just wish there was an easier way of recharging them and still doing all the things I’m supposed to do.

#Thess has fibromyalgia #Thess is a motherfucking adult #These two things are very close to mutually exclusive

8 notes · View notes

cmns201assignment · 9 months ago

Text

A Semi-coherent Rant About Commercialism in Media

I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on commercial interest in media, few of them are good. Initially, my mind jumps to social media which has become an endless onslaught of advertising and a massive perpetuator of ‘hustle culture’ where everyone is constantly looking for ways to make money. However, these ideas have also seeped into traditional media, placing monetary gain above creativity. A very cynical thought, I know.

Over the past few years, I have become increasingly aware of how commercial interests influence the content I consume, particularly when it comes to social media. Personally, I don’t often create my own posts or actively engage with others’ posts beyond a ‘like’. The majority of my social media use consists of watching YouTube videos or shorts, so I try to think critically about what or who I am watching, especially when there is any sort of advertising involved. For me this means being a bit picky over which creators I watch and always questioning things. If the content is expository, does this person have the credentials and/or sources to support the information? When it comes to content with sponsored, or even unsponsored, product recommendations I tend to look at the creator as a whole – what kind of content they produce, what efforts they make for transparency with their audience, the type of language used, and what do they stand to gain from these posts. Or I just try to avoid and ignore advertisements as much as humanly possible which is easier said than done.

That’s not to say that I don’t ever fall for the social media hype or think I’m better than people who do; if I’m being honest, if my financial situation were different, it’s likely I would give into it more often. One of the few perks of being a broke university student is that my wallet forces me to take the time to think about these things. Often in the time it takes for me to save up for things I want, I usually end up realizing I either don’t need it or never really wanted it in the first place.

Also, I think it’s worth noting that this awareness is extremely irritating. Sometimes I just want to mindlessly watch dumb videos or influencer drama, or to buy the thing just because I want to, but this questioning has become a habit so that rarely happens. My avoidance of ads has, in some cases, led to me reluctantly giving in to subscription services – whether or not it was worth it is still up for debate. My hatred of subscription services is a different rant for a different day, but my avoidance of those as well as certain tech companies (mostly Apple but again, different rant for a different day) has caused me to miss out on a lot of content that is exclusive to their platforms.

Media and commercial interest are so thoroughly intertwined that being a consumer can sometimes feel like dodging bullets and I think that overall, it has just made me very cynical. Between corporate influence, the rise of lifestyle influencers, and ‘hustle culture’, it feels like fewer and fewer people create just for the sake of creating. Of course, I understand that people need to make a living, I don’t take issue with that at all. I think what really bothers me is that commercial interest seems to have taken center stage and created this narrative that media should only be produced with the goal of monetary gain. As someone who paints as a hobby, I can’t count the number of times people have suggested I sell my work and are shocked or confused when I say I don’t want to. This attitude discourages people from creating just for fun, implying that if you can’t make money then you shouldn’t bother in the first place, which is an incredibly depressing mindset.

So, while my self-righteous attitude towards media and commercialism may be a bit dramatic and irritating both to myself and others, I do think it’s at least somewhat justified. For the sake of my sanity and my wallet, I’m going to continue as I have.

1 note · View note

pagesofangels · 1 year ago

Note

If things are not happening the way they were meant to for you, then remember that you are the only one who can actively change that. Give your partner an ultimatum—if you’re not at least moved in together in six months you’re leaving. Honestly *I* would dump him flat out because I cannot abide people who are in debt to others and I believe that shitty past choices are a major indicator of character and how the future will unfold, at least where money is concerned. If he can’t be trusted to manage his money wisely as a single young adult, imagine having a family. This probably sounds heartless, but much as you love him he may not be suitable for what you want/need out of life and you should think, “In sixty years when I’m on my deathbed, if I continue living the way I am now, will it be the biggest regret of my life?”

Well, there's a lot more nuance to it than I made it sound. Neither of us want to rent, we'd rather buy a house together -- and we told each other we're in it for the long haul. No timeline set, but I am aware he wants kids one day and I've very much made it known I'm open to the idea of marriage. He doesn't like to plan the same way I do, it gives him anxiety. Meanwhile my planning habit helps ease my anxiety.

The situation is that five years ago he bought a house with his childhood best friend, they may as well be brothers. That means he has bills and half a mortgage to pay, while I have never moved put of my childhood home (I know it's fucking pathetic, let's just move on). Therefore, I have more saved up although I make less than him annually.

Financially, it is literally impossible for either of us to move out, because neither of us have a lot saved. And on his end, he would need to find another roommate so his buddy doesn't get fucked over on the house payments.

I'm really fucking frustrated that he did this, but it was three years before we met so a future with me wasn't in the picture. I really tried talking yo him about it last night, and his anxiety kinda made him snap at me. He said the idea of moving house too soon freaks him out because, let's face it, he made a dumbass move even buying that property.

He says he DOES want yo move in with me, but no sooner than a few years from now when hopefully the hoysing market is better.

So, that's why my life plans are on a delay, as are many other young couples. I just don't know what to do, and the frustration has had me on the verge of tears all day at work.

2 notes · View notes

ofsteelehearts · 2 years ago

Photo

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Isaac Jasper Steele

NICKNAME. Izzy (Oliver)

GENDER. Cis Male

HEIGHT. 5′11″

AGE. 26 (Born on November 18th, 1986)

ZODIAC. Scorpio sun (vindictive, defiant, passionate), Gemini moon (charming, versatile, short-tempered), Virgo rising (increased body awareness, detail oriented, savior complex)

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, some French

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. Black

EYE COLOR. Dark Brown

BODY TYPE. Mesomorph

VOICE. Bass

DOMINANT HAND. Right

SCARS. He has a several scars all over his body, the product of having a brother so close in age and of impromptu boxing matches with the pack. He has two incredibly noticeable scars: his left shoulder is shredded and marred from road rash after crashing his bike. The second is a three inch long wound on the left side of his abdomen from being stabbed in jail.

TATTOOS.

PIERCINGS. One, below the waist.

BIRTHMARKS. None

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Smile, physique, tattoos.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

HOMETOWN. New Orleans

SIBLINGS. Oliver Gauthreaux

PARENTS. Jasper and Althea Steele

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Unemployed, desperate for money. Will strip for food.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. McKinley, Virginia

CLOSE FRIENDS. Oliver Gauthreaux (none of that half-brother shit, that is his BLOOD), Jackson Kenner (his alpha, his guiding light), Scarlett Rivers (the love of his life, if he’d just let her be), Lizzie Saltzman (the first person in McKinley that made him want to know more), Kayleigh King (his heart, the person he feels most inclined to protect), Hayley Marshall (still wary of her, but trying to let her in)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single and letting his freak flag fly while consistently putting his heart in turmoil because he refuses to let himself fall in love

FINANCIAL STATUS. He has two dollars and a stick of gum.

DRIVER’S LICENSE. Both his motorcycle license and regular driver’s license

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. Prefers to be the more stoic in a situation, the protector and the shoulder to cry on. With Scarlett, he rarely let his guard down enough to let her see him truly distraught but it did happen a few times. He doesn’t enjoy breaking down in front of other people, would always like to be seen as the strong one.

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. True dominant energy.

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. Won’t commit to a long term plan, prefers to take things day by day and “see where it goes”. He is often dating multiple people at once. Scarlett is the only person that has ever been able to get him to be monogamous. While monogamous, he was very committed to that concept and didn’t even look at other people. Prefers to be the aggressor in relationships, enjoys the chase.

LIBIDO. High.

TURN ON’S. Protectiveness, aggression, witty conversation, being fed from, random acts of passion. Very into sex in nature. Thinks drug use with his partner is romantic.

TURN OFF’S. Trying to lock him down before he’s ready, trying to get in-between his relationship with Ollie, attempting to change his point of view when he’s made it clear how he feels. Certain songs. Pretentious, flaunt-y rich people.

LOVE LANGUAGE. His preferred love languages to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation and quality time. His preferred love languages to give are words of affirmation and physical touch.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONGS. Raise Hell by Dorothy / Immortals by Fall Out Boy / idfc by blackbear / Criminal by Britney Spears / Summer by Calvin Harris / Ghost by Halsey / Darkside by grandson / RIP 2 My Youth by the nbhd / Single by the nbhd / Daddy Issues by the nbhd

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. He’s not really so good at the hobbies thing. He likes eating when he can, fucking when he can, fighting when he has to. He hasn’t found a whole lot of past times that he was allowed to enjoy growing up. Getting tattoos is his most creative outlet. Drinking is probably the thing he spends the most time doing.

MENTAL ILLNESSES. Depression

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. None

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. Isaac is incredibly confident in pretty much every way. It’s part of surviving the way that he has for his entire life. He knows that he will find a way to survive, he knows that he is going to find a place to sleep, and he has had to depend on himself and no one else for a long time now. He knows he’s attractive and good with flirting. He knows he can protect himself and others. He is completely confident but not cocky.

#tw violence #tw mental illness #hc #i'm using white lighters to see what's in front of me --- ISAAC

3 notes · View notes

ofuntamedhearts · 7 months ago

Text

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. Isaac Jasper Steele

NICKNAME. Izzy (Oliver)

GENDER. Cis Male

HEIGHT. 5′11″

AGE. 26/41 (Born on November 18th)

ZODIAC. Scorpio sun (vindictive, defiant, passionate), Gemini moon (charming, versatile, short-tempered), Virgo rising (increased body awareness, detail oriented, savior complex)

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English, Spanish, some French

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. Black

EYE COLOR. Dark Brown

BODY TYPE. Mesomorph

VOICE. Bass

DOMINANT HAND. Right

TATTOOS.

PIERCINGS. One, below the waist.

BIRTHMARKS. None

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). Smile, physique, tattoos.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

HOMETOWN. New Orleans

SIBLINGS. Oliver Gauthreaux

PARENTS. Jasper and Althea Steele

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Teacher at the Salvatore School.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. Mystic Falls, Virginia

CLOSE FRIENDS. Olivia Steele (his daughter, his reason for living) Oliver Gauthreaux (none of that half-brother shit, that is his BLOOD), Jackson Kenner (his alpha, his guiding light), Scarlett Rivers (the love of his life, if he’d just let her be), Hope Mikaelson (his alpha, his heart)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single and letting his freak flag fly while consistently putting his heart in turmoil because he refuses to let himself fall in love

FINANCIAL STATUS. Comfortable, for the first time ever.

DRIVER’S LICENSE. Both his motorcycle license and regular driver’s license

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. True dominant energy.

LIBIDO. High.

TURN ON’S. Protectiveness, aggression, witty conversation, being fed from, random acts of passion. Very into sex in nature. Thinks drug use with his partner is romantic.

TURN OFF’S. Trying to lock him down before he’s ready, attempting to change his point of view when he’s made it clear how he feels. Certain songs. Pretentious, flaunt-y rich people.

LOVE LANGUAGE. His preferred love languages to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation and quality time. His preferred love languages to give are words of affirmation and physical touch.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

MENTAL ILLNESSES. Depression

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. None

#hc: isaac #muse: isaac #hellsmouth.intro #tw: violence

0 notes

softyarnball · 1 year ago

Text

Talking about standards - Education

I have a lot venting about dating, especially with what happened with my ex, and what happens now.

My parents are very conscious of their education when it comes to ‘educate’ me. I have to use educate in quote because it is more than a propaganda program more than teaching me how to think critically and act rationally. The first and foremost thing they emphasize about my dating life is that I must date a city guy.

This hit them hard when I dated my current bf. He is not from “the city” but from a small but culturally rich town. They did not ask me anything about him specifically but went berserk for my choice. My bf comes from traditionally well-educated family within a hundred miles from the citadel. The ancient family was full of mandarins and the nearly everyone in the modern family is either a medical doctor, engineer, lawyer. My bf himself is working towards a PhD degree. So, a very well-educated if not best educated family I have ever met (I knew a few, this has not been best of the best but top 2 I would say). My mom and dad just knew the ins and outs of my bf’s family recently after we have been dating for more than 5 years. My mom was amazed although she was the one who went kaboom with my relationship at first. In retrospect, my family is not well-educated. Only my mom was bright at school, which drives my parents to force me into having a good education. The bad thing about my good education is that my parents are completely blind to the fact that my friends’ parents are very well-educated. They don’t know how rich and higher class my friends are. They made poor decisions on BANNING me from making friends with these kids; instead, they want to control my social circle and limit it to the ones they deem high class. Of course, their perceived higher-class is not as high-class as my friends. So there’s that. This brought me misery in junior and senior high. MISERY. Not only from them, but also from my awareness of my social status. Had my parents been a little bit opened about it, I would not have been so miserable.

Anyway, my main point is that my ex certainly knew about this. Probably it was one of the reasons why we cannot be “together”. I am cool with it. I don’t want to live with someone who constantly compare where we come so seriously.

It was more than 10 years ago. Thing have changed so much since then. My education is changing, for the better. Up until PhD, my challenge was not my ability to learn but my ability to afford education. My ex is still working on his college debt, I suppose. So, education-wise, I don’t think mine is inferior to his. Even if he can afford to enter a good MBA program (easily $70k/year), I am still way ahead in term of education, especially considering how financially limited I am/was.

Yup, so there is that. I know education can change years to come, especially our own education. Our parent’s education is not likely to. Comparing myself to the people from my past is not cool, but comparing where I was 10 years ago and where I am now make me less depressed tho.

I don’t think judging anyone from their origin is good. No one chooses the family they are born into or the situation with which they grow up with. I, my mom, my dad did not choose that. Rather, I think the focus should be on the potential. I had potential back in HS. I just did not have the money. It costs me so much but also brings me the best relationship, the most genuine relationships ever.

0 notes

thataintnolady · 3 years ago

Text

A ficlet inspired by @too-manybooks's post about Nesta making Eris his High Lady and some of his power transferring to her, because my main fic is a slog right now and I couldn't resist the prompt.

The fire in my veins (Neris)

[4584 words]

This is set a decade or so into the future, because while we can make people with no political experience and little knowledge of the places or people they will rule over into High Ladies instantly just 'cause we we have a boner for them, it probably doesn't serve them or their courts to do so. I said what I said. Also, the stupid ass deathbaby subplot doesn't exist and Nesta got to keep her powers. TL:DR, pure wish fulfilment.

Eris watched fondly from the back of the room as his lady, his Queen, held the rapt attention of the roomful of adolescent girls.

“Now, I understand that all of this is very new to you,” she was saying. “You’re used to deferring to the males in your life. That’s how it’s always been. But I’m here to tell you that you matter. What you want matters. That’s why the High Lord-” here she paused to glance over at Eris, flashing him an almost imperceptible smile, “-and I have made these changes to the law.”

Eris hadn’t even realised she’d seen them come in. But of course she had. His wife was always aware of everything.

“So marriage, if it occurs at all, will be your choice,” she went on. “No marriage licences will be issued without the express consent of the couple, both parties. Which must be given in person at the local registry office. If anybody attempts to coerce consent from you, there are systems in place to deal with that and help available to you, both practical and financial support.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the girls in turn to emphasize her point. “No female of the Autumn Court will ever again be subjugated by a male. Not her father, not her husband. Not even her mate. Not while I live and breathe,” she vowed.

“Mama is so smart,” Cordelia breathed beside him. “Everyone listens to her.”

Eris smiled down at his daughter, squeezed her hand. She was, and they did. And their little girl was turning out to be just like her.

“Of course, if you do wish to marry of your own free will, that will always be supported,” Nesta continued. “Whether the person you wish to wed is a male or a female.” There was a little gasp and a few titters here, which drew an easy smile from Nesta before she went on. “But I would encourage you to ensure you experience a little of the world and all it has to offer before you consider such a commitment. Don’t neglect your education, especially. The Lady Vanserra Academy is open to you all. Regardless of your previous standard of education, there is a place for you there.”

The Academy was a passion project between Nesta and his mother – and named for the latter, although the title of Lady was now technically held by Nesta. She was Lady Archeron, though – when they had married, she had been firm about retaining that link to her human heritage. As long as she agreed to be his wife, Eris couldn’t have cared less what name she went by.

“The final thing I want to discuss today is violence in the home,” Nesta said, any trace of levity gone from her expression. “This is a subject close to my heart, and the High Lord’s as well.” Nesta again shot him a fleeting glance.

“What occurs in the home happens behind closed doors. It is especially insidious for that reason. And this kind of violence doesn’t always look obvious and doesn’t always leave bruises.” Silver flashed in her eyes and she took a breath. “It can come in the form of being forced into situations you don’t want to be a part of. It can look like choices being taken away from you. It can be sexual violence. It can be constant belittling, angry and hurtful words. It can look like neglect. Like financial control and dependence. It can come in many, many forms. And none of them are acceptable.”

“Any person found to be a perpetrator of violence in the home will be suitably dealt with, with possible punishments including imprisonment and banishment from the Autumn Court for the most serious offenses,” Nesta continued. “But it’s less about punishing the offenders than protecting the victims. So if you find yourself a victim of violence in the home at any stage, I want you to know two things – first of all, it’s not your fault.” She looked around at the girls. “It is never, ever your fault. There is nothing you could do that justifies that type of behavior. Secondly, in this court there will always be help available. I’d like to invite my friend, Gwyneth Berdara, to tell you more about that.”

Gwyn had been sitting among the audience, but now she rose to her feet and came to join Nesta at the front of the room. She saw Eris and Cordelia at the back and gave them a little wave. She was wearing Autumn-style attire, brown suede pants and a plain bronze-coloured tunic, rather than her priestess robes. But her pale blue invoking stone rested at her forehead, reflecting the light.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her warm voice betraying no nerves at addressing such a large group. Gwyn had come a long way. “I’d like to thank Lady Nesta for inviting me here today. For those who don’t know who I am-”

A few giggles and a little murmur went around the room at this, and Eris grinned. After the role Gwyneth Berdara, priestess and Valkyrie, had played in the battle against Koschei, there was nobody in all of Prythian who didn’t know who she was. And there was probably not one young female in this room who wouldn’t consider her an idol, and rightly so.

Gwyn smiled and ducked her head for a second. “For those who don’t know who I am,” she repeated, “I am the Director of The Sanctuary, a place of safety for females and children escaping violence. Our centre provides a place for people to stay, receive support and treatment – counselling, financial help, educational support, employment training – anything you need, really, to get you to a point where you feel confident enough to face the world again.”

Gwyn looked out at the sea of faces. “I was a victim of violence myself once,” she said calmly. “I understand how it rips your foundations out from under you, how it destroys your confidence. I was fortunate to be given a safe place to heal from that trauma, and our mission at The Sanctuary is to do the same for every female and youngling that needs it. I work with a team of priestesses who receive special training to understand the needs of victims.” She paused for a moment. “I hope none of you ever have need of our services. But if you do, if any of your friends or loved ones do, we’re there.”

Gwyn resumed her seat and Nesta spoke once again. “That’s everything we wanted to discuss today. I just want you all to know that each and every one of you is vital to the future of the Autumn Court. I hope you will all value yourselves the way the High Lord and I do. If any of you are interested in finding out more about the Academy, Lady Vanserra is available in the parlour and would be happy to speak with you. Thank you for coming today.”

The girls applauded politely before slowly making their way out of the room, chattering to one another and occasionally shooting shy glances in his direction or cooing at Cordelia as they passed. Eventually only the four of them were left. Eris quickly helped Nesta and Gwyn to stack the chairs at one end of the room while Cordelia sat on the floor, playing with a toy Elain and Lucien had sent her from Day. It was a little crystal mounted on a wand that made beams of rainbow light dance as she wielded it. Cordelia was enchanted by it.

“Whatcha got there, Cordi-lou?” Gwyn asked, kneeling down beside her when they had finished tidying the room.

“It’s a magic stick,” Cordelia explained. “It makes rainbows.”

“Oh, so pretty!” Gwyn enthused. “Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to come to the evening service with me and hear the singing?”

“Yesssss!” Cordelia said happily. She was too young to understand the services, but she loved the music as much as Nesta did. “Can I bring my rainbow stick?”

“I don’t see why not,” Gwyn agreed. “As long as you don’t wave it around during the service.”

“I won’t,” Cordelia promised. “Is Uncle Az coming?” She adored Gwyn’s mate, and the feeling was mutual.

“No sweetie, he’s in Velaris just now,” Gwyn said. “But you know what that means? I’m kind of lonely at our place. Do you think you could come for a sleepover after the service and keep me company?”

Cordelia looked up at Eris and Nesta with shining eyes. “Can I?”

Nesta shot Eris a sideways glance. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Any objections?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

“No, you go ahead and have fun,” Eris said, kissing Cordelia on the head. “You make sure you listen to what Auntie Gwyn says, alright?”

“I will!” Cordelia placed her little hand in Gwyn’s and began dragging her toward the door of the assembly room.

Nesta waited until they were out the door before she turned to Eris, narrowing her eyes. “Alright, what are you up to?”

“Me?” he said innocently.

“I know you don’t honestly believe I fell for that impromptu invitation,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “I adore Gwyn, but she is horrible at lying. What have you two cooked up?”

Eris should have known better than to think he could get anything past his wife. “Fine,” he said, smirking. “There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it will be easier without our little whirlwind interrupting every few seconds. So I asked Gwyn to take her for the night so we can have a quiet dinner together. And an evening without a child in our bed.” Cordelia generally went to sleep in her own room, but made her way to theirs at some point during the night. They inevitably woke with her wedged between them. Eris didn’t mind it – he adored waking up with his two favorite girls, in fact. But never knowing when their daughter was likely to make an appearance did tend to put a bit of a damper on any nocturnal activities other than sleeping.

Nesta grinned as though reading his mind. “Alright, I’m listening.”

*****

“Where is everyone?” Nesta asked as they sat down to dinner. Ever since Beron had been gone, they had all preferred to use this small, family dining room in lieu of the cavernous formal banquet hall. But most evenings the table still accommodated at least six. Seeing it set for only two was incongruous.

“Well, Mother has gone to Day for the rest of the week…” Eris said.

“Also your doing, no doubt.”

“Not at all,” he argued. “If Mother wants to spend time with Lucien – and Helion – who am I to deny her?”

“The picture of innocence,” Nesta said dubiously, spooning vegetables onto her plate. “Your brothers?”

“The Reach, the training camps and the Summer Court, respectively.”

“Out with it, then. What is it we have to discuss that necessitated clearing everyone out of the house?”

“I think it’s time you became High Lady of this court,” Eris said, without preamble.

Nesta put down her fork. “What? No.”

“No? Why not?” Of all the ways Eris had envisaged this conversation possibly going, an immediate, flat-out refusal was not something he’d considered.

Nesta said nothing for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t know. I’m just… it doesn’t sound like me. I like being the Lady of this court, but I don’t need to be High Lady.”

Eris regarded his wife. Nesta cared for neither titles nor ceremony. Her mother had tried to mold her into a grasping social climber, but leaving the Night Court and her sisters behind had been her final rejection of that past. Nesta would have been content with a quiet existence. But she’d been made for greatness and it kept finding her.

“You’ve just as much right to the title as Feyre,” Eris said quietly. “If not more.”

“Is that what this is about, their visit? Rhysand has a High Lady, so you think you should have one too?”

“No!” Eris said, genuinely shocked. “You’re worth a thousand of them no matter what your title, or without any title at all.”

Feyre and Rhysand were to make their first official visit to Autumn in a little under two months – and they would bring their General with them, no doubt. Nesta had left any anger she felt towards any of them behind long ago, but Eris wasn’t sure he could ever completely forgive them for all the pain that they’d caused his wife. After she’d come to Autumn, it had taken her months to even discuss some of it with him. Much longer still for her to understand she wasn’t to blame for it. He’d tolerate Rhys and Feyre’s presence in this court for the sake of diplomacy, but posturing for their benefit was of no interest to him. He and Nesta had nothing to prove.

“So if I don’t need the title, why are you so eager to give me it?” Nesta asked, jolting him back into the moment.

“It’s not about me giving you anything,” Eris said. “You’ve earned the right to be High Lady. The effort you’ve put into making the Autumn a better place… I always had dreams of what this court could be Nesta, but without you, I couldn’t have achieved a fraction of what we’ve done since Beron’s demise. Our people respect me, but they adore you.”

“And I them,” Nesta said simply. “I don’t need to be their High Lady for that.”

Eris smiled. “Maybe not, but you know they’d love it. The Mother knows, they deserve something to celebrate.” The years after Koschei had been tough. There was not one family in Autumn – in all of Prythian – that had not suffered. It hadn’t been an ideal time to take over the reins as High Lord, but he and Nesta had built back their court, and won the loyalty of their people in the process. The birth of Cordelia four years ago had cemented Autumn’s affection for their little family.

“And there’s something you ought not to forget,” he went on, suddenly inspired. “There’s a little girl who thinks the world of you, and who might get to be High Lady of Autumn herself someday. Don’t you think that would be easier if she’d had a role model go before her?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Bringing Cordi into this is absolute chicanery, Eris Vanserra! I’d have thought such things were beneath you,” she sniffed.

But Eris had seen the doubt creeping into her expression, and grinned. ��Nothing is beneath me if it will help convince you to take your rightful place as High Lady of Autumn. My equal. My superior, if we’re being honest,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t over-egg the pudding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Alright, fine. If it will make you shut up, I’ll do it. But I’m not changing anything apart from the title. I’m still going to be working with your mother on The Academy, and with Gwyn on The Sanctuary. And I’m still going to be-”

“Raining down terror on our nobility and demanding progress that nobody else is ready for? My dearest love, I would expect nothing less. I’m counting on it.”

*****

Nesta smoothed her skirts for the third time, her fingers worrying at the moss green shot silk. Eris glanced sideways at her.

“If I didn’t know better, Nesta Archeron, I’d say that you were nervous.”

She glared at him. “I am nervous! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

He smiled at his wife, who had endured and triumphed over more than most could even imagine.

“We’ll do something official in the coming weeks. But this evening is private. It will just be you, me and the priestesses. So there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Nesta looked over at him. “Really? Just us?”

“Just us,” Eris confirmed. “I thought you might like it better that way. But we will have a little celebration afterward, if that’s okay. Just family. Emerie’s coming from Illyria, and Lucien, Elain and Helion from Day.”

She gave him a grateful look. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you. I’m glad it’s not going to be some pompous fae spectacle.”

Eris hid another smile. He wondered if Nesta would ever stop speaking of fae as though she wasn’t one of them. Far from being offended, he found it quite charming. It was fascinating to see fae behavior and customs from her perspective. It often made him look at things he’d accepted unquestioningly in a new light.

Gwyn came out to antechamber, arrayed in her robes. She sat down beside Nesta. “Jako is ready for you now,” she said quietly. “Do you have any questions before we go in?”

“Is it too late to call it off?” Nesta muttered.

Gwyn gave her friend an indulgent smile. “I’m so happy you’re doing this, you know. It’s such a huge step for the women of Autumn. An important step. Come.” Brooking none of Nesta’s objections, she took her by the hand and led her into the inner sanctum.

Standing with Nesta, facing one another before the High Priestess, couldn’t fail to put Eris in mind of their wedding. The whole thing had felt surreal. When Nesta had agreed to come to Autumn, she’d made it clear that it was on a trial basis only and she was neither accepting Eris’s proposal nor making any promises of her own. She’d been surprised when he readily agreed to give her sanctuary despite these stipulations.

He’d soon realised why. She was less than one tenth his age, and yet Nesta’s trust had been betrayed enough to last several fae lifetimes. So he’d adjusted his expectations. If there was one thing that Eris understood, it was patience. It was when they both knew that the battle with Koschei was imminent that she’d come to him.

“Do you still want to marry me?” she’d asked, in her disarming, direct way.

“Yes,” he’d replied without hesitation.

“Will you do it without any fae nonsense?”

“Yes.” He’d do the ceremony naked and standing on one leg if that’s what she wanted.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Eris’s mouth had gone dry. “You’re saying yes? Why now?”

She’d shrugged. “Because of all you’ve done for me. Because who knows if we’ll even be alive in a week’s time. But mostly because I love you.”

“Why does this feel so much like a wedding?” Nesta was saying under her breath, reading his mind as always.

The High Priestess overhead despite her low tone, and chuckled. “Well, it is, in a way. Except instead of committing yourself to a person, you’re committing yourself to a whole court.”

“No pressure, then,” Nesta joked, but she looked a little wan.

“No, no pressure,” Jako replied. “If there is love in your heart for this court and its people, you will be a loyal and just High Lady.” She smiled down at Nesta. “Are you ready?”

Nesta swallowed, then nodded.

Despite the fact that these priestesses had never had cause to perform it before, the ritual was beautifully done. It began with a hymn to the Mother in an ancient fae tongue. “It asks her to bless you with her gifts,” Eris whispered to Nesta. “Unnecessary, really, as you’re already favoured by the Mother. But the power of High Lords is seen as being bestowed by The Cauldron, so when anointing a High Lady, the Mother’s blessing is sought. It provides a kind of balance, I suppose.”

“You understand this?” Nesta asked.

“The gist of it, not word for word. I’ve done some study of ancient languages.”

“Of course you have,” she said with a half smile.

The hymn was lovely. Performed with just voices, the majority of the priestesses carried a low chant – sung at a pitch that had to be deeper than their natural registers. This was accompanied by a high, sweet contrasting melody, performed by a handful of the most gifted vocalists among the priestesses, Gwyn included. She had explained to Eris and Nesta, when she talked them through the ritual, that the two songs, blended yet distinct, were supposed to represent the light of The Mother, weaving through the darkness as she created their world and everything in it.

When the hymn concluded, there was stillness for a few long minutes as the priestesses silently prayed. But the very stone of the chapel still seemed to vibrate with sound and energy.

The period of silent prayer came to an end. All the priestesses except for Gwyn and Jako slowly filed out, leaving just the four of them to complete the most sacred parts of the ritual.

The High Priestess stepped forward to read from a leather-bound tome, still in the same old language. Something about sacred duty and binding and union. Eris couldn’t remember what Gwyn had said about this part. But it didn’t seem to require anything of them other than to stand there and listen.

When the reading came to an end, Jako motioned them both forward and had them stand at either side of a large stone set into the floor of the chapel. It glowed pale blue, similar to the invoking stones the priestesses wore over their hoods. It sat at the center point of a mandala carved directly into the stone floor of the chapel.

Eris sucked in a few deep breaths. This was the only part of the ritual he didn’t feel entirely comfortable with. He looked into Nesta’s eyes – clear and unafraid, but limned with the silvery gleam that was always there when she was experiencing strong emotion. Gwyn stepped forward, Eris’s dagger in held out in both hands, palms up.

“That’s the knife you chose?”

“It could hardly be any other.”

The dagger was plain and unadorned, but it sang with power. Power ripped from the Cauldron itself, and imbued in the knife by its maker. Nesta Archeron. The dagger that had dispatched his father and made him High Lord. The dagger that had proved vital to Koschei’s defeat.

A little piece of the power of the Cauldron, in a ritual dedicated to the Mother.

Balance.

Eris nodded to Nesta. She exhaled slowly. Then she took the dagger from Gwyn.

Eris offered her his right palm. She hesitated for a moment, then drew the blade along it. The corners of her mouth tightened as blood welled from the wound.

She passed the knife to him, then held out her own hand. Eris held the blade to her palm, but could not make himself slice into her flesh.

“Hurry up and do it,” Nesta begged.

He closed his eyes, and pressed down on the knife. Nesta didn’t make a sound, but when he opened his eyes, blood pooled in her palm as well. They gripped their right hands together tightly. Jako nodded at Eris. He cleared his throat.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I make you High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Jako inclined her head toward Nesta.

“With my heart’s blood as my vow, I become High Lady. From this day, we rule as one. Two halves of a whole, united in power.”

Eris’s eyes met Nesta’s, still dancing with silver light. He loosened his grip on her hand, and they allowed their mingled blood to drip and anoint the sacred stone.

He looked toward Jako. As Gwyn had explained it, that completed the ritual. It was done. Nesta was his High Lady. He smiled at her.

But instead of smiling back, she gasped in shock. “Nesta? What’s the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the words were drowned out by a roaring in his head. He felt lightning racing in his veins, and something cool and heavy swirl in his belly. It was exhilaration and pain, ecstasy and torment. It felt similar to when the High Lord powers had settled in him, but more alien. More intense and disorienting. He grabbed for Nesta and held her to him as the strange sensations began to subside.

“Nesta! Are you okay? Talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s just I- I didn’t know that was going to happen.” She rounded on Gwyn. “You didn’t tell me about that part!”

Gwyn blinked. “What part?”

“That I’d get some of Eris’s powers! That would have been useful information to have before I agreed to this.”

Gwyn looked at her blankly. “What? I didn’t know. You have his powers? How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it,” Nesta said, frowning. “I can feel it. The flame – it’s different to mine. It’s… warm.” She held her injured right hand out in front of her, and for a second, golden flame danced over her palm.

She looked up at Eris. “Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t want to take your powers!” Nesta looked upset, almost… guilty?

“I didn’t know either,” he said. “Powers being transferred… I’ve only ever heard of that happening to mates.” He turned toward Jako. “What is this?”

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anything about it, but this ritual hasn’t been performed in Autumn in living memory,” she said. “It’s possible that some of the detail has been lost to history.”

“Well, you taught her to master her powers,” Gwyn said chirpily, trying to dispel some of the tension. “Now you’ll just have to teach her to master yours as well. Here, take your knife back.” She held the dagger out to Eris, but Jako stayed her hand.

“But this is a Made object!” she said, looking at it closely for the first time.

“Yes,” Eris said. “The occasion seemed to demand something special.”

“May I?” Jako said, indicating the dagger.

“Of course.”

She held it up, examining it. “You know… this could be answer here,” she mused. “Or part of it, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Well, as the High Lord said – transference of powers is usually seen in association with a mating bond – that is, a bond between equals, ordained by the Cauldron,” the High Priestess said, turning the knife over in her hand. “But during the ritual, you effectively made yourselves equals – two halves of a whole, united in power – and sealed the pact with an object imbued with the power of the cauldron.”

Eris frowned. “Are you saying… that we’ve somehow created our own mating bond?”

“Not a mating bond exactly, but a powerful bond of some sort,” Jako said. “The funny thing is though, I’d have expected it to go both ways.”

“Both ways? How do you mean?”

“Well, for something of the High Lady to pass to you as well.”

Eris and Nesta exchanged glances. She stepped forward, staring intently at him. As he met her silvery gaze, Eris felt something in him shift in response.

Nesta turned to the High Priestess. “Can I have that knife for a moment?” Jako passed it to her silently.

She held the flat of the blade up to Eris’s face. “Look. Your eyes.”

He peered into the reflective surface. His eyes looked… normal? The blade was shiny, but not as clear as a looking glass. But his own amber eyes looked back at him, completely familiar. Except for just around the pupil, where there was a little ring of…

Silver.

#acotar fic #neris fic #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #neris

117 notes · View notes

nostalgic90s · 3 years ago

Text

An Arranged Marriage AU pt2

Thomas glanced up from his desk when he heard a knock at the door. "Come in."

The door creaked open and in walked Bruce. "Father are you busy?"

"I am but I can spare a few minutes." Thomas placed the budget proposals in a folder and tucked them away in desk drawer for later review. He gestured to the empty chair, "What's troubling you son?"

"Is it that obvious?" Bruce sat down on the comfortable armchair and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.

"Very. You look like you haven't gotten any restful sleep these past few days. Is it about your betrothal?"

Bruce chewed on his bottom lip and nodded.

"Ah, I figured as much." Thomas rested his hands on the desktop and linked his fingers together. "I take it Jerome Valeska didn't make a good impression on you?"

"Oh God, did Alfred tell you?"

"He told me enough," Thomas admitted with a hum.

Bruce sighed and anxiously ran a hand through his raven hair. He met Jerome for the first time last week and the exchange was a trainwreck. Bruce had been made aware of his impending marriage and how it would occure when he came of age. Well, he just turned 17-years-old and is now making wedding arrangements for the following month. Jerome apparently had no knowledge of his betrothal and reacted to the news in rage. Bruce couldn't blame him, the shock of it all would turn any decent person into a raving madman. He had tried his best to calm his future partner but Jerome wasn't having any of it. Jerome said some crude things, most of which Bruce has never heard of in his life. Jerome was so repulsed that he refused to shake Bruce's hand and made it a point to insult Bruce's clothes, physical appearances, financial status, everything down to his 'stupid twink hips'.

Bruce blushed at the memory and exhaled a slow, methodical breath. "We're not compatible... Marrying Jerome Valaksa will end in disaster."

"How do you know? You've only met the young man once." Attentive, Thomas watched his son and patiently inquired, "What's not to like about Jerome?"

"Ugh, where here do I begin?" Bruce raised his hand and began tapping each finger as he listed off things about Jerome. "He's crass. He's uneducated. He's rude and exceptionally hostile. He's unhygienic. He obviously doesn't like wealthy people and I get that, but he insulted me both in English and Russian. He almost punched me, and I believe he would've if Alfred wasn't present. Oh did Alfred mention he's a thief? He stole my cufflinks and tried to steal Alfred's watch right out of his pocket." Bruce huffed in irritation. "And he hates my guts."

"Did Jerome exclusively say that?"

"No but it was heavily implied." The teenager nearly worked himself into a tantrum discussing Jerome; it's troubling to know that a stranger has this kind of effect on Bruce, who is normally calm in every situation.

"Son, I understand your concerns and they're valid but do you think you could give Jerome a chance? He endured a tough childhood and in no way am I excusing his behavior, but trauma has made him the way he is. He's angry at the world Bruce, not you." Thomas did some research on the volatile redhead and to his surprise, Jerome has no record of any kind, not even a birth certificate. Without a paper trail, Thomas went to the circus himself to meet with Lila Valeska. She shared some information on Jerome, like how he was born in the summertime and that he's in his early 20's but Lila doesn't know his exact age. She also informed him how Jerome is prone to violent temper tantrums, and he'll lie and exaggerate about everything. Thomas took it with a grain of salt and when leaving the trailer Jerome happened to return from completing his chores. Thomas tried to introduce himself but Jerome elbowed past him and made a beeline for the bathroom. From that simple interaction alone, Thomas spotted signs of physical abuse. Hence why he requested Jerome move in immediately and Lila agreed to it, with a money bribe of course.

Bruce mulled his father's words over in his head, tempted to ask about Jerome's childhood trauma.

"Bruce? What is it I always tell you."

The raven deflated on the spot, knowing where this is going. "A man is as only good as his word."

"Correct. Rich or poor, we're only as good as our reputations and as such, the Wayne family stands by their promises. Your grandfather was a great man, he saved the life of his fellow comrade during the war, an Abram Valeska, poor farmer from the South. Abram insisted on paying your grandfather back but the only thing he had to give was the promise of his first grandchild to wed the first grandchild in the Wayne family. Your grandfather accepted this and now I ask you Bruce, do you want to call the wedding off?"

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and held his father's steady gaze. It had to be a test of his character, otherwise why would his father say all of that and give him the opportunity to back out of the wedding?

Knowing what his son is thinking, Thomas chuckled and offered a reassuring smile. "It's not a test Bruce, it's your decision. Whatever you may decide, I won't think any less of you."

The teenager squeezed the arms of the chair and after a full minute of silence, made up his mind. He sat up straighter in the chair and composed himself, speaking in a confident tone as he addressed the issue. "Father I'm going to move forward with the marriage. I will... I will make things work with Jerome."

"That's my boy," Thomas praised. He stood up from his desk and went around it to embrace his son.

Bruce stood up and he moved into his father's open arms to hug him. Pride swelled in Bruce's chest.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have budgets to review." Thomas said, taking a step back.

"Of course, I'll leave you to it."

Thomas escorted his son out of the office but before the man could close the door, he said "Jerome will be here this afternoon."

Alarmed, Bruce paused mid-step and turned around. "What? Why?"

"He's moving in with us."

Bruce turned pale as a ghost. He began to protest but Thomas closed the door with a gentle click.

#valeyne #jerome valeska #bruce wayne #bruce is terrified #jerome puts the fear of God in bruce #xD #jerome is like a grumpy cat #bruce is like a lovable pooch

25 notes · View notes

journalofkate · 9 days ago

Text

11/04/2024

TW: toxic relationships, drug abuse, financial abuse, alcoholism, homelessness, dysphoria, suicide and suicidal thoughts, mental illness

It's been a... very long time since I posted on this blog, and even longer since I've made a long form post. To be honest I had forgotten this blog existed. So much has happened in my life these past few years, so much has changed. For the sake of my mind I felt I should make a new entry, and hopefully it can reach someone who's been through similar things.

In my first post on this blog I took substantial time talking about my identity as a trans woman and my experience of living with parents who were extremely bigoted and feeling like I could never be out and proud of who I am. Much has changed regarding that, some for worse and some for better.

In the summer of 2022, a few short months after my original post, my sister was attacked and kicked out of the house by our mom. This caused a massive rift between me and my parents, a rift that would only grow wider with time. I have always been extremely protective of my sisters because of the abuse I and some of my sisters faced with my biological mother, but more than that I was sad to lose the only person in my home whom I could be honest with. She supported me and at that time she was one of a small group of people who knew my identity. Over the next year I became aware of my parents stealing a lot of money from me, little by little, adding up to thousands of dollars. It became evident that I could no longer stay in this house with the family I had known for years. I do not know why my parents stole that much money from me, they were drug addicts when I was a young kid and it's possible they relapsed but they were also generally bad with money and had gotten themselves into a lot of debt.

In January of 2023 I made the decision that I would leave, and it was only a decision of where I would go. My close friend at the time, whom I will call Gwen, suggested I come to stay with her in Oklahoma. I did not like this idea as I had gone through much effort to leave Oklahoma just two years earlier. Against my better judgement I accepted her offer so in summer of 2023 I began my long road trip from beautiful Olympia, WA to the Midwestern wasteland known as Oklahoma City. There was, however, a problem with my plan. Shortly before I was to set out my friend Gwen got evicted and had to move into her sister's house, which has no room for me. By this point there was no option to stay with my parents any longer. Bridges had been burned, and even if they hadn't it would have killed me to stay in that house any longer with people who had lied and stolen from me and attacked my sister. I had to leave. I. Had. To. Leave. And so I left. I had a decent paying job lined up and I was content to live in my car until I found an apartment of my own. And so... I... Left...

In the time between my sister getting kicked out and me leaving I had started seeing a psychiatrist in an attempt to avoid a full psychological breakdown. In this time I learned that I have bipolar disorder, in retrospect many of the events that follow seem to be a result of my mood swings and are situations that are far too common for those of us with bipolar disorder.

For 3 long, hot months I living in a Walmart parking lot in my car waking up at 6am every day to work a job that was much harder in my body and mind than I had anticipated. One day Gwen approached me about a woman she had met, whom I will call Michelle, who wanted to meet me. I met with Michelle and learned that she had been told all about my situation and wanted to help me and Gwen get into an apartment. During this time I was experiencing a depression worse than any I had experienced before and Gwen, perhaps believing my job was the cause of this convinced me to quit, saying that she would financially support me until the apartment we had found was ready for us to move in. When Michelle discovered this she insisted that I stay with her in the meantime. I was grateful that she took me into her home, if even for a few weeks. So grateful that I cooked her dinner every night I stayed there. For some reason that I cannot fully recall, or perhaps never fully knew, Gwen ended up staying there as well, she also quit her job around this same time so we were both fully financially relying on Michelle. During our stay there was a strange tension in the air at all times between Gwen and Michelle. I do not know if this was because we were unemployed, or because I was invited there and she was not. During my time in Oklahoma up to this point I had been in such a deep depression that I began to lose touch with reality. I was simply following the path I was already on and hoping I would not end up homeless again or crawling back to my parents whom I never wanted to see again.

In September of 2023 Gwen and I moved into our apartment. Michelle came by a few days after we moved in and delivered each of us a check for $4000 each. I do not remember the details exactly, but I remember her making it very clear that she wanted us to live off this money while we looked for jobs so that we would be financially independent of her. I had to deposit my check into Gwen's bank account because my bank would not allow me to deposit the check, so Gwen had full control of all $8000. A few days later Gwen came home with a car full of groceries and a crate of various bottles of alcohol. Gwen was a bartender, it was a job she was very passionate about and she wanted to continue practicing her skills while she was looking for a job. Over the next few months Gwen spent increasing amounts of money on expensive groceries from the highest end grocery stores, something I was fully against. By this point I knew the money had run low, I knew I had made a mistake by giving her control of the money, but I was not in my normal state of mind and I had fully lost touch with reality. I began drinking, heavily, something I had never done before. I quit taking my medication because I could no longer afford to have it refilled, so I drank more. All of my bills fell behind, most crucially our rent, my car payments, and my payments for my storage unit in Washington that had almost every single thing I owned. I could not find a job no matter how hard I tried, the economy had gotten worse and it was getting harder to find jobs. No matter how many jobs I interviewed for none of them called me back. I began delivering food for doordash just to keep food in the apartment. I did not want to ask Michelle for more money because it had been very clear that we had taken a financial toll on her and it was clear that she wouldn't be able to give us any more money after the checks. Gwen found a job, and things were finally starting to look up. Unfortunately I had fallen into a very heavy drinking binge as had Gwen, and we began arguing constantly.

A week after Gwen found a job Michelle knocked on our apartment door. Unknown to me Gwen had been in contact with her, the things they discussed I do not know, but she found me in a drunken state, depressed and out of touch with reality. We had a conversation about how we would get our finances back in track and it seemed that everything went well. The next day when I woke up Gwen and all of her belongings were gone. I felt betrayed, I felt abandoned, and I felt alone. At this point I could no longer contact either Gwen nor Michelle. I did not fully understand what happened. I still don't fully understand what happened. I used the last of my funds to get some food from the cheapest grocery store I could find. The next day my car was repossessed. I stopped drinking. I found out some time later that Gwen had lied to Michelle and said that I had full control of the finances and spent all the money, on what she did not know. I found out 6 months later that Gwen was still, seemingly fully, financially relying on Michelle.

In the months that followed I faced mental distress like I had not felt since my childhood. I got into contact with my older sister and she gave me some money when she could so that I could keep the lights on and keep some food around. She offered to let me come stay with her in Texas but she ended up extremely reluctant to actually let me go there. In the following months I spent my days endlessly searching for jobs within walking distance. I felt hunger like I had never felt before. Some days all I would eat was a small bowl of rice. Some days I ate nothing at all. I was convinced I would die there, starved to death in an apartment i couldn't afford in a city I hated. This did not happen.

In January of this year, 2024, I found a job in a sandwich shop a mile from my apartment, an acceptable walking distance. I began paying back my debts. During the first few weeks at this job I remained haunted by everything I had experienced the past year, I fell into another terrible depression. I became completely detached from reality, all I knew was that I was in pain and I wanted it to end.

TW: suicide

In February of this year I began to see clearly through the fog of my mind a way to end the pain I was feeling. I had decided to kill myself. I knew how I would do it, I knew what my final words would be, and I knew what my final meal would be. I couldn't focus on work, I couldn't focus on fun, I couldn't even sleep. All I could think about was ending my life. I sat down one night in silence with my final meal, a meal which thankfully I do not remember, and began to eat while thinking exactly how I would word my note. Suddenly my phone buzzed with a notification. I was not expecting any messages that night. The message was from a close friend of mine from high school who I had been talking to almost daily for years. In the message he asked me if I was okay, a question I had never heard him ask. He said I seemed withdrawn and said he knew I wasn't doing well and he wanted to check in. For some reason this message snapped me out of my fog completely. I told him I was fine and just really tired from work. I finished my meal and went to sleep. He did not know it at the time but he saved my life that night.

I no longer saw suicide as an option out of my situation, despite the pain I couldn't let it all end. In a strange sort of way it felt like if I killed myself I would be giving gwen, and my parents, as much control over my death as they had over my life. I began making friends at work. I grew very close to a woman who I will call Allison and a woman who I will call Heather. I was awkward, I had just gotten out of a series of severe mental health crises and aside from that I was never very good at interacting with people. I came out to Heather and Allison a month or two later, and accepted me with zero hesitation.

Heather and I grew closer, after a few months of being friends I started to think I had a crush on her and I began to wonder if she felt the same way. Eventually I confessed to her and learned she felt the same way. We've now been dating for almost 6 months.

Unfortunately despite finding a job, the pay wasn't enough to cover the debts I had accrued and in June of this year I was evicted from my apartment. Since then I have been living in an extended stay motel paycheck to paycheck barely making ends meet. I almost fell into another suicidal episode but the thought of the people close to me having to grieve me has kept me from even considering that as an option. Though I did not accept my drinking problem last year, I now understand I truly have a problem with alcohol. It's easy for me to not drink at all, but it's hard to stop once I start... So I simply do not drink at all. Though I am not out to my coworkers, in my every day life I live openly as a woman, something I never thought would happen. I have been looking at apartments lately and I believe I will be in one soon and once I am it will be easier to live a normal life.

Two years ago I couldn't imagine myself without my family, I couldn't imagine myself living a genuine life. I was stuck. I don't know what my parents have been up to since I left, and honestly I do not want to know, but sometimes it feels like it would've been easier if we were estranged because of my identity.

I still have mood episodes, I'll probably always have mood episodes. I am not currently medicated because I still cannot afford to have a psychiatrist but once I have an apartment and a little bit of money to be able to spend on that sort of thing it's my first priority. I haven't had a serious episode since February. I don't always know when I'm having episodes but my partner is getting good at recognizing when I'm having one. When she says she thinks I'm having an episode it lets me know that I should be very careful about any actions or decisions I make. She has helped me considerably through all of this, I don't know if I can ever truly show her how grateful I am for how much she helps me, but I can still try.

That's all I have for today

-Kathryn F.

03/03/2022

Content Warning: detailed descriptions of gender dysphoria, transphobia, internalized transphobia, homophobia, internalized homophobia, biphobia, internalized biphobia, sex (not abusive), and brief mentions of abuse.

Today was a particularly bad day for my dysphoria, but in a strange way it brought me some clarity. I realized that the bulk of my dysphoria comes from knowing that the people around me won't accept me as a woman if I came out.

I always see people on social media, blogs, and articles talking about how to come out or why you should come out but I haven't really come across anything about what to do when you really don't think you CAN come out. On this topic, I'd like to share my history of how I figured out I was trans, why I feel I can't come out, and what solutions I have come up with. Strap in because this may be a long story.

Though my memory can be foggy at times, I do distinctly remember having this feeling that I wasn't really a boy when I was about 5 or 6 years old. I never expressed these emotions to my family members except for on one occasion after I learned what a 'tomboy' was I told my parents that I wanted to be a "tomgirl", to which my father replied "you can't be a tomgirl, that's not a thing".

When I was about 10 or 11 puberty was fast approaching, and I began to become vaguely aware of the existence of trans and intersex people. By this point I had started having this intense feeling that I really, really was supposed to be a girl. I began having this consistent fantasy that despite having been born with male genitalia, I would develop female secondary sex characteristics. Soon after my voice dropped, and I began to grow hair on my face and body. It was starting to appear that my fantasy would not become reality. At age 12 my mother* told her husband to teach me how to shave my face. Though for most people this would have been a bonding experience with their stepfather, it left me deeply uncomfortable. I couldn't stand to look in the mirror and see hair on my face, and then have to interact with that hair just to get rid of it. I stayed clean shaven for most of jr high and high school.

*the woman I refer to as 'mother' and the woman I will in the future refer to as 'mom' are two different people. My mother is the woman who birthed me, and then went on to abuse me and my sisters. My mom is my biological father's wife who has cared for me as her own since I moved in with her.

At age 13 I thought I was gay. I started a romantic relationship with one of my friends who I had known for years, his name was Joseph. Around this same time I had gained a better understanding of what transgender meant, and had even made some trans friends. I had begun to wonder if maybe I was transgender, before this time my only window into these communities was movies and television, in which trans people are often seen as freaks of nature or the punchline to a joke, but now I knew actual trans people and being trans didn't seem like such a shameful thing. A few months into our relationship I asked Joseph "would you still date me if I was a girl?" To which he replied "it doesn't really matter, because you aren't a girl." I never brought up this possibility to him again. About 4 months into this relationship I decided to come out to my mother, she was surprisingly accepting however in the months that followed there was a tension that wasn't there before and an unspoken idea that I would grow out of it.

When I was 14 I broke up with Joseph because he had become abusive. To be in an abusive relationship this young is a devastating thing, but it is a story for another entry. I began to distance myself from my gay and trans friends because most of them were mutual friends. At some point I, very consciously, decided to prove my mother right as I receded back into the closet. It was unspoken, but as far as anybody else was concerned I was actually straight. Progress is not a straight line. I began to reject my attraction to men, as well as any feeling of being the wrong gender. The next 2 years are the darkest years of my life. I got a girlfriend, we broke up and made up every few months. I was horrible to her, and she was horrible to me, it may have been the most toxic relationship I've been in. I lost my virginity. I told myself that all cis men wanted to be women. I started to adopt extremely conservative views. My depression spiraled out of control. I began to think horrible things about trans people, things I will not repeat. These 2 years are the years I remember the least.

When I was 16 I left my mother's house to live with my father. Around this same time I slept with a man for the first time, but all my internalized bigotry made me push him away when he wanted a relationship. The next year of my life was the beginning of a major shift in my life. I finally was able to be free, and go and explore my place in the world. I joined theatre, made friends, and eventually started a romantic relationship with a trans man. I was beginning to actually live my life. I began to move from town to town every few months or every year. Each time I moved the amount I was open about my sexuality changed. I never came out to my parents.

At 19 I gained enough financial independence to live on my own. I started a relationship with a woman who ended up using me for her own financial stability. After she left, I felt extremely lost. After a few months I was in the store and found myself just standing in the makeup section. I bought some makeup and went home and tried to learn how to do makeup. It looked horrible, but it felt good. I came to the realization that I could buy whatever I wanted, so I began buying women's clothes, and I loved them. At that time I thought it was just crossdressing, I thought maybe it was a sexual thing. After a few months I began to seriously question if I was trans. I confided in an old friend and she told me I should explore the possibility, I still wonder if she remembers that conversation. Eventually life got hectic, and my exploration of my gender fell low on my list of priorities for some time.

In 2020 the COVID-19 pandemic started, and my life kind of grinded to a halt. A few months after lockdown began I decided to move back in with my parents. Because I never felt comfortable coming out to them I had to throw away my clothes and makeup, I didn't realize what effect this would have on me. A few more months into the pandemic I began to experience severe gender dysphoria, and with no outlet it just got worse. On a phone call with a very close friend I suddenly blurted out "I'm trans" - and that shocked me. I did not expect those words to come out of my mouth, and definitely not in that moment. My friend told me that she's also trans and she was waiting for the right time to tell me. Over the next year I began to use social media to cope with my dysphoria, people didn't see me as a woman in real life but they respected my gender online. I developed a social media addiction.

In 2021 I made the decision to move to a different state with my parents. They believed I just wanted to live somewhere more beautiful and near the sea, but in truth I wanted to live somewhere that was more accepting.

Now it is 2022, I still live with my parents and I don't make enough money to live alone. I moved to one of the most progressive states in the US, but I still feel like I can't be myself. Thought my mom and dad have cared for me more than my birth mother, they are still extremely bigoted. They are racist in a very disgusting, casual way. My father is homophobic openly. My mom tries to respect the pronouns of trans people she meets, but she has said they aren't really their gender. I financially depend on them, I can't risk losing my apartment. I simply can't come out to my family, which means I'm forced to wear this disguise of a man. I go to work and I use a gender neutral name instead of Kathryn because I don't want to be ostracized from my workplace. Everything I did over the past few years has been to improve my life, but it doesn't feel like it has improved at all. I'm scared to lose my family. I'm scared to lose my job. I'm scared to lose my apartment. I have to live in the closet. I sleep in the closet, eat in the closet, I carry the closet on my back through my daily life. It's gotten to the point where I feel I'm living a double life, and I have a dysphoria induced panic attack every couple days.

This is the story of my life, the story of discovering myself. I must solve these problems I'm faced with because who could live like this forever? I've been saving money, I plan to move to another country in the next few years. If I put enough distance between me and my family it may become easier to come out. I'm going to get my own apartment soon so that I can begin to live free again. Despite the fear I feel, I will begin to leave the house presenting as the woman I am. I've also been working on my social media addiction, I no longer scroll I only post, and I only post once a day. I'm at the point in my life where I've realized the only way for me to live free is for me to live as though I am alone.

This is my first online journal entry. I'll be back with another tomorrow, hopefully not a long sad story.

- Kathryn F.

2 notes · View notes

softprincesso · 4 years ago

Text

✨HOW TO BECOME A WEALTHY MIDDLE-AGED MAN✨

PT.2: Overview to understanding different saving/retirement methods, investments, and forms of income

2.1 Savings and Retirement

Welcome lovelies to (what I hope will be) a helpful series on gaining wealth and becoming financially literate and independent!

*disclaimer: while this advice can generally apply to many it will not apply to all. Everyone is in a different situation and should do their own research before they take what ANYONE says as fact or law. This is also coming from the perspective of a young, biracial, first generation female business student following a hypergamous lifestyle and who does sw so some advice may be specific to my like-minded ladies, but for the most part I just love money and want to help others find joy in their wallets as well. I am also operating in the US so things regarding accounts, stocks, and certain laws will vary by your country. Also, this is just a fun thing I wanted to do because talking about leveling up and learning and growing and money are my favorite past times. None of these pictures are mine, however I am using some links which may compensate me in some way, but I only used links which were mutually beneficial and would help you gain something as well, they are still just actual sources I use for myself.

✨THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND✨

Financial independence is different than financial confidence.

Financial Independence: “The most common sense of the term is that someone has enough wealth to live as they wish for the rest of their life without having to work.” -Investopedia https://www.investopedia.com/financial-edge/0611/declare-your-own-financial-independence-day.aspx

Financial Confidence: “We define financial confidence as having three aspects,” says Miler. “The first is awareness of how money can be a tool for helping you reach your goals and dreams. The second is financial literacy and understanding economic factors. The third is trust and knowing where to turn for financial advice.” -Forbes https://www.forbes.com/sites/shelleyzalis/2018/06/16/women-money-8-steps-for-growing-your-financial-confidence/?sh=2175b65e2468

While the ultimate goal is financial independence, financial confidence should be the main focus. I’ll give an example why. Imagine there are two people: Rhonda and Jill. Both of them like nice things, love to shop, and participate in the occasional splurge. Rhonda works a regular 9-5 and has a decent salary. She doesn’t have much financial knowledge (translation: financial confidence), but she has a savings account at her local bank and puts a couple hundred into retirement each year and she thinks that's enough. Suddenly, Rhonda wins the lottery. Overnight she has become a millionaire, so she quits her job, moves to LA, and goes on to live life to the fullest. She would now be considered financially independent. However, Rhonda has no idea how to manage all that money. She puts a small amount into that bank savings account and takes the rest to do what she will. One day she tries her luck at a casino, in less than five hours she has lost all of her money and has to start back at square one with no job, only a few thousand to get her through, and no-good way to explain to employers that she just wasted the last 5 years spending money on handbags she now has to sell at a depreciated value. (BTW you would not last not working with only a million dollars in LA for that long)

Now, let’s look at Jill. Jill is an independent contractor and has a relatively steady income. She knows very little about finances, but she actively learns how to manage what she has and keeps up to date on the latest money news. The day that Rhonda won the lottery was just another Thursday for Jill, the only unique point for her was that she opened a savings accounts with a high APY (we’ll say 1%) and put in $5000.00. A little later she also opened a Roth IRA and puts in the maximum yearly allowance of $6000.00. Along the way she opened a brokerage account of her own and started trading in the stock market along with investing in real estate which has given her some extra income to play with each year. Unfortunately, another housing crash occurs, and all of the money Jill invested into real estate is gone. However, since Jill learned the skills behind her choices early on, she is knowledgeable and understands the ups and downs of the market and how to invest her money in other places in the meantime. And, that High yield savings account accrued around $50 more without her doing anything and she has that to fall back on, or worst case she can take out part of her principal Roth IRA contribution. 10 years from now Jill should start to see a steady increase in her Roth IRA that by retirement will be a little over 1 million and she should be comfortable and invested enough into stocks that she gains around $200-1000 extra each month.

I think you understand why you want to be Jill.

✨HAVING ADEQUATE SAVINGS = BEING YOUR OWN LIFEGUARD✨

As discussed in Pt.1 the first goal you should achieve is securing an emergency fund that could sustain you for a couple of months if things were to ever hit the fan, and starting a retirement fund should be in your top 5 goals to complete. The saying, “the rich get richer” is popular for a reason. Wealthy people know how to make their money work for them instead of them having to work for money. An easy way anyone can do the same is by opening the right accounts for your savings and retirement.

Savings:

All of your savings should be in a high yield saving account or split between different high yield accounts. This is an account which will reward you some interest every period for having money in your account with them. This is incredibly easy to do. You can either research/ask your bank about their high yield accounts or do some googling to find some other bank. Then transfer your money and there you go! When looking at banks understand that the highest Annual Percent Yields (APY), or the interest they will reward you, are going to be from online banks because they have less operational costs than a brick and mortar, but they will also come with their own disadvantages, like less ATMs to access or the inability to use when outside of your country so make sure to look into that. IMPORTANT: Make sure that whatever bank you choose is FDIC-insured so if the bank were to ever collapse or lose your money you have insurance up to $250,000.This won't generate a lot of extra cash, but an extra $20 every year is better than $0.

Retirement:

These accounts usually go by your current situation and what you see for your future.

401K: Probably the most known (I believe it’s only in the States but there might be something close to it in other countries) and that’s just because this is what employers usually offer if they offer anything. It is a retirement fund that your employer will set up and you can predefine how much of your paycheck you want to automatically go into it every time. Sometimes, the employers will also have a match program, and if they do you better max out the money they will contribute because that is FREE money! Most advice that I have seen has said to really only focus on this fund if your employer has that match program, otherwise I would focus on one of the accounts below. https://www.investopedia.com/articles/retirement/08/401k-info.asp

IRA: An IRA stands for Individual Retirement Account. There are three kinds…

Traditional: This IRA lets you put in pre-tax money and lets it grow tax-free until you make a withdrawal. Once you make the withdrawal that money is taxed at the current rate of your income at the time. Your contributions are tax deductible so you can write them off of your taxable income of that year. There are limits to how much you can contribute depending on your income, status, and whether you have another retirement fund as well.

Roth: With this IRA your contributions are taxed, but when you withdrawal money later on it is tax free. For those of you in a lower tax bracket than you believe you will be in the future, this IRA makes the most sense as you will pay less taxes now than you will when you are 59 ½ (The official age of retirement in the States). There are limits to how much you can contribute depending on your income, status, and whether you have another retirement fund as well.

SEP: Simplified Employee Pension. This is also an employer-based plan and may also work better for my self-employed gals out there. I don’t really know a lot on this one so I’ll just leave a link you can look into if it interests you: https://www.investopedia.com/ask/answers/102714/how-does-simplified-employee-pension-sep-ira-work.asp

You can have both a traditional and Roth IRA as long as you are eligible for both. Anyone with earned income (with a job or can prove a steady income) can contribute to a Traditional IRA, however with a Roth IRA, as a single you can earn up to $139,000 and contribute. Personally, if you are just getting started with all of this just set up one IRA and as you learn more you can take steps to get another or switch accounts.

https://www.investopedia.com/retirement/roth-vs-traditional-ira-which-is-right-for-you/

There are a plethora of other accounts, but they are more specialized and the top four should get you started on the right path to saving for retirement. I’m guessing that the majority of the audience reading these are women between the ages of 20-30. Trust me when I say that I love to spend money as much as the next girl, but I also would like to be completely comfortable should anything happen in my older years that screws up my marriage or job, and no one is going to secure that for you.

Also, I’m sorry this is so US-based, but once again it is all I know. I believe IRAs are more widespread than a 401K, but all that takes to find out is a Google search on your part.

Either way, make sure you have a plan going into 2021 for your savings and retirement because this economic whirlwind is far from over and there is always a chance for another recession, depression, or disaster. (Wow O, way to keep the mood light)

This was getting way too long with the investments added so look out for Pt.2.2 on the overview for investments (where the actual fun begins and I can stop being such a stick in the mud)…

VOCAB TO KNOW/RESEARCH:

Financial independence

Financial Confidence

APY

Roth IRA

brokerage account

High yield savings account

principal

401K

Traditional IRA

Once again… if in these posts I ever give bad advice, F- something up, or am just generally ignorant PLEASE call me out! Remember that just like you I am a young woman figuring everything out and while I am confident when talking about money, I am by no means a genius (only in spurts) so any chance to learn I appreciate. I hope you all learned something new today and as always…

With Love,

#how to become a wealthy middle aged man #wealth #money #money management #wealth management #finances #hypergamy #affluence #heauxlife #heaux advice #heaux tips #spoiled girlfriend #spoiled gf #spoiled heaux #black woman in luxury #luxury #sugar tips #oadvice #softprincesso

970 notes · View notes

seesgood · 4 years ago

Text

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 )

182 notes · View notes

fandomlovingfreak · 3 years ago

Text

Glacial Passion (7/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: NSFW (at end of chapter)

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage, sexual content (consensual)

Word Count: 3715

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: No notes really. Sorry for the wait.

Enjoy

***

Mother & Father,

(y/n) and I will be continuing our honeymoon for at least an extra week. We will be traveling outside of Paris. I will send an owl once we are settled in the hotel.

Walburga stares down at the letter.

Cold shock fills her at her new daughter-in-law willingly is staying past the allotted time Regulus had planned for the couple's honeymoon.

Walburga thought them to be so indifferent about one another that they would have arrived home days earlier than planned, not extend their time alone together.

Hopefully, though, this meant the next heir of the House of Black would be on the way.

Part of her knows her son will continue to be stubborn, casting those infernal charms. Walburga didn't understand why her son insisted on-- engaging with his wife if he was just going to waste the attempt with a literal flick of his wand. The way he ignored his duties to his birthright was infuriating. She had thought she had raised this son to honor his pure blood and pedigree. To never ignore the responsibilities he had to his family.

Walburga glares at her husband. Blasted Orion had been the one to teach Regulus the contraceptive charm. Although she is glad no bastard children are running around, something she knew Regulus was aware could not happen, she wasn't happy that her golden boy is presently defying her wishes. If Orion hadn't insisted on taking her son to his-- whores, they wouldn't be in this position. Regulus shouldn't have been exposed to those dirty blood, good for nothing tarts.

Tainting one's flesh was as good as tainting one's blood, in Walburga's mind. Not that she'd express her thoughts to anyone of their status. Men of Pureblood never seemed to view things of this matter as she did.

She knew this from experience.

Walburga sets the letter down on the breakfast table, "Regulus and (y/n) will be extending their-- holiday for another week yet."

"Is that right?" Orion says absentmindedly, continuing to scan the Prophet. She can tell he isn't listening to a word she says. Even after all these years, Orion's inattentiveness still boils her blood to an extent. You would think one would get used to being ignored, especially after all the years she has had to get used to it.

"I wonder where he will be taking our daughter-in-law."

"Yes, very weird."

Walburga's expression sours-- further. She snatches up the letter from Regulus and storms out of the breakfast room without another word.

***

I bustle around the room when Regulus is away, posting another letter. The afternoon and night before had been nice, to say the least. Regulus had been sweet, almost affectionate, the entire time we spent together. It was a big change in a short amount of time, which worried me a bit. Hopefully, he wouldn't revert back to his old ways in the next few days. Merlin-- I hope he won't at all.

I rearranged the bed pillows for the sixth time, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.

The door's key noise disturbs my thoughts as Regulus steps into the room.

"Hi," I rub my hands down the front of my dress.

We stare awkwardly at one another for a moment before he speaks.

"I've been thinking about traveling outside of Paris. Would you be interested in extending our-- honeymoon?"

I'm taken aback by his sudden choice in conversation, "Where outside of Paris?"

"We can go wherever you please," he holds my hand, pulling me closer to his chest. This is the closest we've been since before he committed to trying our relationship out.

I clear my throat, "I-- guess that I'm just not really picky about where we go."

He smiles, "Well, then I guess you'll just have to trust that the places I want to go are places you want to go."

***

Together we pack up our belongings, casually swapping small talk.

"Do you want to write to your parents?" Regulus looks up from packing his trunk. "I mean, you haven't seen them since the wedding."

"What?" I give him a weird look, "No. I don't have anything to say to them."

Regulus looks slightly alarmed, "What do you mean?"

"No offense to you, but my parents practically forced me to marry you. I'm not too keen on speaking with them right now."

"You shouldn't just-- I mean, they're your parents."

"Doesn't mean what they did wasn't insensitive. I wasn't theirs to just... give away."

He reflects on my words before taking my hand in his, squeezing comfortingly, "Sorry."

"For what? I know you were coerced into marrying me. It's not your fault."

"I know that. And at some level, I was pushed towards-- doing the right thing-- but I also had the right to refuse, and you were not granted such a right."

I nod, looking away as tears threatened at the corners of my eyes, "It doesn't matter--"

"No, it does matter. You do matter." I meet his eyes. They're steely, the furrowed brow and sour expression I know are not for me. "Don't you see why I use the bloody contraception charms now? They've taken too much from us already (y/n). They're not going to take that away from us as well."

I blink again, "That's why?"

"Of course it's why. We're not-- we're people for Merlin's sake. You're not property (y/n). I won't let anyone treat my wife like that." I'm not sure what to say to him. Thank you? Maybe that would be appropriate. "Besides, we're too young to think of such things. Maybe in ten years--"

"Ten years?" I laugh, "you really think I can keep them at bay for ten whole years? Your mother would be calling in every fertility specialist in the wizarding world, insistent that something must be wrong with me. Certainly, she wouldn't believe the problem was you."

Regulus sighs, "Okay, fine. Not ten years, maybe-- five?"

"Regulus," I laugh, "I know you don't like it. I am completely aware that you don't like being pushed around and knowing that I feel bad for trying to trick you into doing what I wish. But, like you said earlier. You can refuse, do as you please, but I only have one option laid out before me as your wife. And, I can't wait forever for you. I don't have that option. In a much wider social stance, people will talk and make my life miserable. Along with that, your mother and my own will also make my life miserable. There's nothing I'd like to do more than to-- take time for us, or even just me, but that just isn't the life we can lead."

Regulus looks down at his packing. I have to change the subject, feeling that we've exhausted this conversation enough for now.

"Who are you sending letters to?"

Regulus looks up, "Well, the first one was for my brother, and the one this morning was for my parents."

"Oh, I didn't know you were talking to your brother." I'm suddenly reminded that Regulus hadn't answered my questions.

"So..."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you now to tell me about your childhood now?"

Regulus looks uncomfortable immediately. He rubs the back of his neck, "Um-- Sure."

I reach for his arm, hoping that my touch is just a little bit comforting, "You don't have to, Regulus. If you don't want to."

"No," his eyes look so... serious as he collects his thoughts, "I want to be honest with you, and this is a part of who I am." I smile at him, my fingers moving to intertwine with his. "My parents are-- well, they clearly are in a situation like ours. Except it has been a very long time now, and nothing good came from the union."

"Well, not exactly nothing," I squeeze his hand.

Regulus rolls his eyes, "I'm not sure Sirius and I are something good, but okay, yes. Not everything was bad if you insist." His reserved smile has butterflies exploding in my stomach. "Anyways, my father has always chosen to be... well, he's always strayed from my mother. Even when I was a child, I'm sure he chose to be unfaithful even before Sirius and I. And-- uh..."

"What?" I'm not sure I want to know. He's developed a pink flush on his cheeks, not meeting my eye suddenly.

"Well, I was just going to-- confess, I suppose, about his favorite whorehouse."

Frowning, I ask what he means by confessing? What in the world is the connection between Orion's favorite whorehouse and Regulus.

It dawns on me exactly what he's confessing to, right as he speaks.

Regulus reddens further, "I'm sure you understand where I am going..."

I guess I have no reason to be upset over Regulus's past trysts. He was older than me, and most importantly, he was a pureblood man who was expected to... well, act as a pureblood man acts. And that included sleeping around as a bachelor, or in the Black family's case, sleeping with a select group of people their patriarch has chosen.

"Orion thought that we should uh-- learn in preparation for our marriages. Get out any wildness in our systems with the protection of women who were paid and wouldn't try to blackmail with a bastard child."

I feel the cold glacial feeling of guilt rise up from the pit of my stomach all the way to my skin. Had I been-- Had I been causing him to relive a painful moment when I demanded--?

"And well, there are plenty of other things that were-- questionable about my parent's parenting style. My mother, you probably recognize she is a cruel, cold woman. A part of our recently exchanged letters, my brother and I were talking about a memory of our mother. Before she was the woman, you know, she was, well, a much more loving mother to the both of us. You actually were the one who brought forth the memory."

"I did?"

Regulus nods, reaching to cup my cheek in his hand, "It was the night we went to that-- the restaurant my father suggested. You said something about-- uh, a potential child giving you the love you seek from me."

I look away, feeling embarrassed by my words. To some extent, I do-- or did believe that having Regulus's heir, that a child's love could replace the feelings that should be between us as a couple.

"I--" I'm not even sure what to say. "That was wrong of me. I mean, eventually, it has to happen but pushing you-- or well attempting to trick you actually, because I thought..." What did I think? That he was hopeless? That I'd be stuck in a marriage that would parallel his parents and every other miserable Pureblood couple that has come before us.

"You have to remember that I am far from-- where you want me to be." Regulus's thumb traces under my eye, "But I certain I want what you've been asking me for."

***

Our packing takes longer than we'd expected as we spend more moments in conversation about our pasts, present, and hopeful future.

Regulus tells me about his first owl, a little brown owl originally named Maverick but nicknamed Rick because Regulus hadn't been able to pronounce it at age six. He tells me about family vacations that ended in disaster and his first date with a half-blood girl in year four that went terribly wrong. He reluctantly tells me about losing his virginity after I argue he already knew my story. With each moment, I feel more connected to him. How you feel at the beginning of the relationship when you're getting to know someone, the silly stuff that matters because you want to know them.

Checking out of the hotel is a bit-- strange, to say the least. As my husband talks to the witch at the front desk, who introduced herself to me as Seren, has been grinning an extra amount at Regulus, who appears to be oblivious to the flirtatious nature of the girl.

I'm surprised by the annoyance I feel as she flirts with my husband right in front of me. Without a second thought, I reach for his hand. I make sure that the ring Regulus gave me is obviously placed as I look Seren straight in the eye. Her eyes fall on the large purple jewel before her eyes shoot back up to mine. She at least has the decency to look embarrassed, her cheeks pinkening. Regulus frowns slightly at the interaction before going back to paying the witch.

I can't say that I'm not glad when we officially check out and walk out of the door. The jealousy is alarming, but what am I supposed to do when someone is ogling my husband?

"I'm not completely oblivious, you know." Regulus glances at me, a small amused smile on his face.

"To what? The girl flirting with you?"

He chuckles, "That and your possessive behavior."

I look at him outraged, "I was not possessive."

He holds up my hand, "What was this about then? You casually wanted to hold my hand?"

"So what if I did?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, "If that's what you really believe you were doing and not claiming me--"

"Claiming you?" I snatch my hand away.

"What else are you doing when you're showing off that ring?"

"I'm hardly claiming you. She was just-- too comfortable for my liking."

Regulus makes a sound in the back of his throat, "If you say so."

I bite the inside of my cheek, "Why didn't you do anything?"

He tries to hide a smile, "I hardly was indulging her."

"You didn't tell her to--" fuck off.

"I guarantee you, my dear wife, I have been deflecting her attempts all week." Oh, so maybe this wasn't exactly Regulus's fault... completely.

"You have?"

He stops me on the sidewalk, "Yes, of course. Do you really think I would flirt with another woman? Especially now?"

I shrug, "I guess-- no. I don't think you'd do that."

He shakes his head, "Of course I wouldn't."

***

I hold (y/n) tight against my chest as I apparate us to our new destination, remembering how she reacted the last time we apparated.

The moment we're safely on the ground, I continue to hold her, asking quietly if she's okay in a hushed tone. (y/n) nods, her fingers gripping the sleeve of my coat.

For a second, I contemplate pressing a kiss to her temple as I rub my hand up and down her back, but I stop myself before I go through with the reaction. Even with the small progress we've made, it feels too intimate, even as a gesture of comfort.

"Tell me when you're ready," I whisper.

Slowly, (y/n) pulls away from my embrace, (y/e/c) eyes opening hesitantly.

"I really don't like it." She says hesitantly.

"I can tell." We stand still for another beat before she confirms she is in better shape.

"Where are we?"

"Cork, Ireland."

Her eyes widen with curiosity, "Really? I've never been. Dad's been a few times, but obviously, with school and other things, I hadn't had the chance to successfully convince him to take me with."

"So there were places you wished to visit." I can't help but tease her as she prattles on about the things her father has told her about the city we're visiting.

"Of course, but you spring things on me too quickly. I can never recall things when I've been surprised."

I chuckle, "Fair enough. We should check in soon; it's nearly ten. Whoever's running the front desk won't be happy we've arrived so late."

***

By the time we've checked in and opened the door to the suite, it's nearing ten-thirty.

(y/n) takes a quick peek around the room before turning back towards me, "I suppose we should unpack--"

I don't let her finish the statement as I take two large steps towards her, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her soundly on the mouth. She makes a sound of surprise but doesn't pull away or smack me or something she ought to do, really. I'm not even sure where this need to kiss her came from. Maybe the way the soft light of the dimmed bedroom lights landed across her person, making her picturesque, ethereal even.

All I do know is that I must have her this instant. Must feel her soft skin under my fingers, feel her silken warmth as we move together atop the sheets of the hotel bed.

I have to have her, and I can only hope she feels the same way.

Tentatively, I run my hand down her spine, fiddling with the ridiculous amount of buttons that I could easily open with the flick of my wand. Something about the thought of painstakingly unbuttoning each individual button was incredibly erotic.

"I can never seem to control myself when you're around," I whisper as I kiss below her jaw. The way she seems to melt under the words has me smiling against her neck as I continue to kiss down to her exposed collarbone. These damn dresses she wears always showed off just enough cleavage to draw my eyes towards the neckline. "Do you wear these dresses on purpose? Torturing me all day, having to see only the tops of your breasts." Her breath hitches, egging me on. "Do you like it when I talk about your body like that? Like the way, just the sight of some of your naked flesh has me turned on? Hm?"

"Regulus--" My name comes from her lips like a prayer.

"Tell me what you want." My hands worship her body, squeezing her covered tits. I would do anything to get this blasted dress off of her.

"I-- I want you."

"Want me to do what? Use your words, kitten."

Her lips, red and abused, open and close attractively once or twice before she finds her words, "I want you to fuck me."

"Fuck you? You want my cock, huh? Is that it? In any way that I'll give it to you?"

She blinks, a bit confused, but nods. I can't believe I've rendered my wife so speechless, so cock-hungry she can barely articulate what she wants.

"Let's get this off then," I tug at the neckline of her dress, "turn around, kitten." She quickly obeys, and I get to work on the buttons, finding I can release her from her dress easier than I had previously imagined.

The fabric hits the floor as I gaze at her naked back, "turn back around. Think you've teased me enough. I want to see those tits."

Slowly, she faces me once again.

"I think I wanna fuck these," I say as I reacquaint myself with the feeling of her breasts in my hands.

"You want to-- what?" I often forget that my wife's sexual experience starts and ends with what we've done. She's looking at me like I've said something odd.

"You want me to show you? I think you'd look lovely with my cock between your breasts." I discard my pants, shirt, and jacket, pulling her towards the bed, lightly guiding her down to the floor as I sit.

"What about fucking me?" She frowns up at me.

I chuckle at her indignant frown, "Don't worry, darling. I plan on cumming inside of you. Now, push your tits together nice and tight around me. There we go."

Hesitantly, she does as I say. The sight alone has me twitching.

Gently, I thrust up. If I thought the view before was good, seeing her innocent face watch as I seek pleasure from a new place on her body. She's radiant, on her knees, watching my cock disappear and reappear.

"Do you like that, darling? Like watching?"

Her eyes flit up to meet mine, "Yes." It takes nearly everything within me not to cum on the spot. Merlin, what was this girl doing to me?

"Do you want me to fuck you, kitten?" I hold her chin, so she has to look at me.

"Obviously." There's that attitude I expect. Chuckling, I pull her from her knees, maneuvering her on her back.

"So impatient. Just itching to feel me deep inside ya, huh?" She nods, "words, darling."

"Yes, please."

The first inches feel like coming home. She makes those breathy noises I love, pleading with me for more, to give her everything and anything I can.

It's a symphony in the room, the headboard of the old creaky bed knocking against the wallpapered wall, the noises (y/n) makes every time she moves her hips against mine... There's no doubt that we're alerting the rest of the occupants exactly what we're doing in room twelve.

This thought stirs something inside of me. Clumsily, my fingers find her clit hoping to get her exactly where I'm at.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop--" her voice is utterly fucked as she practically chants these words.

"Cum for me, kitten. Don't hold back." Merlin-- please don't hold back.

If our neighbors weren't aware of the little-- musical act happening in our room, they were now. (y/n) writhes beneath me, fingernails digging into the small of my back.

"Fuck--" I don't hold back as she clenches down hard.

Was it ever this good with someone else? I can't think of a single woman who makes me cum as hard as I do with (y/n).

As the weaker aftershocks continue to rack my body, I lay down next to her, pulling her into my embrace. I reach for my wand in my discarded jacket, silently casting the charm.

(y/n) looks like she wants to say something, but I stop her, kissing her forehead.

"I promise, someday. But not today." (y/n) doesn't say anything but nods as she gets more comfortable in my arms. "You know, this is the first time we've done this."

"What do you mean?" (y/n) laughs, "we've done this a few times now."

"Not that. I mean, usually, one of us runs off after we've done that. This is the first time you're voluntarily in my arms."

(y/n) makes a soft noise of agreement, "That's true."

I smile. This was progress.

87 notes · View notes