#i am not articulating myself well at all but i promise there's method to my madness

[auphelia]

I cannot stop thinking about Dottore negotiating with Nahida and the way his voice and demeanor shifts after she gives her verdict on his way of seeking knowledge

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Embracing the Unexpected

Summary - Aemond and his wife navigate the fear, love, and uncertainty of new parenthood, discovering that the joy of new life is irresistible, even when it arrives as an unexpected set of multiple babies.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Childbirth (brief)

Word count - 2482

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

"You startled me," I gasped, my voice trembling as I felt a pair of hands trail softly across my bare shoulders. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as I clung desperately to the discarded fabric of my gown.

"It's only me," Aemond murmured, his voice low and soothing. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck, his hands gliding along my sides. 

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. With a subtle wriggle, I slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, wrapping the nightgown more securely around myself before turning to face him.

His expression was a mixture of concern and sadness.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly as I made my way to the bed. I sat down, crossing my legs and began to braid my hair with methodical movements.

"Nothing," I replied, barely above a whisper. Aemond sat beside me, his fingers gently untangling the strands of my hair as he watched me with a worried gaze.

"Then why have you been keeping me at a distance these past few weeks?" he asked, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. 

I gripped the sheets tightly, my face averted as the flush of distress spread from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.

He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. 

"Am I repulsing you?" he asked, his voice thick with hurt. Before I could respond, he continued, "Do you no longer want me?"

I shook my head quickly, my heart aching at the thought of causing him such pain. I moved closer to him, desperate to reassure him. 

"No, it's not that at all. I promise," I said, my voice earnest. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made me feel even more unsettled.

"Aemond, it's just..." I started, the words tangling in my throat as I struggled to articulate my feelings. My mind raced, the weight of the truth pressing down on me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. 

"I'm with child," I blurted out, the confession leaving my lips before I could second-guess it.

His reaction was instant. His head snapped towards me, eye wide with shock. 

For a moment, his face lit up with joy, but as he registered my anxiety, that joy dimmed. The light in his expression faded, and he slowly stood from the bed, turning away from me as if to shield himself from what he feared might come next.

"Wait," I cried out, desperation seizing my heart as tears welled up in my eyes. The mere thought of him walking away from me, from us, was unbearable. "Please, don't leave."

His back remained turned, but his voice was sharp, carrying the weight of his wounded pride. 

"Does the thought of having a child with me cause such distress?" he asked, his words laced with bitterness. I shook my head, realizing too late that he couldn't see my silent denial.

"No, no, Aemond, it's not like that at all," I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. "I'm just... afraid."

Finally, he turned around to face me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. 

"Why are you afraid?" he asked, his voice softer now, though it was clear he was struggling to understand.

"I'm afraid that I won't be enough," I whispered, my deepest fears spilling out into the open. 

"That I'll fail you, that I'll fail our child. I'm terrified of what's to come, of not knowing how to be a mother, of not being able to protect our child from the dangers of this world and most of all, I'm afraid that you'll see me differently now, that I'll lose you in ways I can't even fathom."

Aemond's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. 

"You're not going to lose me," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We'll face this together, whatever comes. You're not alone in this, and I will be by your side every step of the way. We'll figure it out, I promise you."

Tears spilt over, and I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. His words were a balm to my anxious heart, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that would take time to fully dispel. 

Eight months later, I found myself pacing the chamber, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling my swollen belly. 

Each step was a struggle, my breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as the pain in my abdomen grew more intense. Every contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me trembling and weak.

I groaned, my forehead resting heavily against the bedpost as another contraction tore through me. My hair was matted to my forehead, damp with sweat, and my body ached under the immense strain. 

It felt as though I might burst from the pressure, the sheer force of it overwhelming me.

"Where is Aemond? Where is he?" I gasped, my voice tinged with desperation as I scanned the room. 

Faces blurred around me, the maids and midwives moving quickly, but none of them were the ones I needed to see.

"The father's presence is not customary during the birth," the maester explained calmly, though his words were drowned out by the scream that erupted from my lips. 

The pain was unbearable, and the thought of going through this without Aemond made it worse.

"I want Aemond!" I cried out, pushing away the handmaidens who were attempting to soothe me. Their gentle hands and soft words were of no comfort, only he could provide that.

As if summoned by my plea, the door to the chamber burst open, and Aemond rushed in, his face pale with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to my side, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace.

"Aemond, please, stay with me. I can't do this alone," I sobbed, clutching at him as if he were my lifeline.

"My prince," the maester began, his voice tinged with disapproval, "it is not customary for the father to be present—"

"I do not care what is customary," Aemond snapped, his voice steely with resolve. "If my wife wants me to stay, I will stay."

He guided me toward the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped me lie down. Another scream tore from my throat, the pain intensifying as my body prepared for the final stage of labour. 

Aemond held my hand tightly, his presence grounding me amid the chaos.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple as he tried to soothe me. "I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere."

Each contraction came with a force that seemed to split me in two. Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on Aemond's steady presence.

The pain was blinding, but knowing he was there kept me from being completely consumed by it.

Minutes stretched into hours, each moment a battle as my body worked tirelessly to bring our child or so we thought into the world. Aemond never wavered, his hands steady on mine, his words a constant source of comfort. 

When I felt I could push no more, when I was certain I had nothing left to give, his voice would pull me back, reminding me that I was not alone.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maester's voice broke through the haze of pain. 

"The babe is crowning," he announced, and I gasped, the realization that the end was near bringing a rush of determination.

"Just a little more," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."

With a final, desperate push, I felt a release, and the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I collapsed against the pillows, utterly exhausted but relieved beyond measure.

"It's a boy," the maester announced, placing the squirming, crying infant in Aemond's arms. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief as he looked down at our son, and then back at me.

"You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with pride.

Before I could respond, another contraction hit, more intense than before. My eyes widened in shock, and I looked at Aemond, fear creeping back into my heart. 

"There's another one," I gasped, my hand gripping his with renewed urgency.

The maester's expression shifted from concern to realization. "There's another babe," he confirmed, moving quickly to assist with the unexpected second birth.

Aemond's eyes were wide with shock, but he quickly regained his composure, focusing entirely on me. 

"You can do this," he said, his voice steady. "I'm right here with you."

The second labour was just as intense, but somehow, knowing what to expect made it more bearable. Aemond's hand never left mine, his voice guiding me through each agonizing contraction. After what felt like an eternity, a second cry filled the room.

"It's another boy," the maester said, handing the newborn to a waiting handmaiden to clean and wrap.

Aemond's eye was shining with tears as he looked between our two sons.

Before I could catch my breath, a sharp pain tore through me once more, I felt as though my body was being torn apart.. My heart raced, panic rising as I realized there was yet another child.

The maester's expression turned serious as he realized the truth. "Triplets," he said, a mix of amazement and concern in his voice. "This will be the last one."

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, but Aemond's presence kept me from sinking into despair. 

"You're almost there," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. "Just one more, love. You can do this."

With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed through the final wave of pain. The third birth was the hardest, with my body protesting the entire way, but finally, mercifully, it was over. 

The last cry filled the room, softer and more delicate than the others.

"It's a girl," the maester announced, his tone gentler now, as he carefully swaddled our daughter.

Aemond was speechless, his eye wide with disbelief and joy as he looked at the three tiny bundles in the hands of the midwives. "Three..." he whispered as if he couldn't quite believe it. "We have three."

I collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent but filled with a profound sense of love and accomplishment. Tears streamed down my face as Aemond placed our daughter in my arms, her tiny features perfect and serene.

He sat beside me, holding our two sons, his expression one of utter devotion. "You did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought them into the world."

Despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, nothing could overshadow the overwhelming joy of that moment.

A couple of hours passed in a haze of exhaustion and bliss. The room, once filled with the frantic energy of childbirth, had quieted into a peaceful sanctuary. 

The three tiny bundles nestled in our arms were the centre of our world, their soft breaths and occasional whimpers the only sounds breaking the stillness.

Aemond sat beside me on the bed, cradling our two sons, while our daughter rested against my chest. I marvelled at their delicate features, the softness of their skin, and the way they seemed to fit perfectly into our arms. 

It was overwhelming to think that just hours ago, they had been growing inside me, and now they were here each a tiny miracle.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Alicent entering the chamber. Her face, usually so composed and regal, softened as she took in the sight before her. 

Her eyes shone with a mixture of pride and love as she approached the bed, her steps careful and measured.

"Aemond," she greeted her son, her voice warm with affection. "And how are you, my dear?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that reached her eyes.

"Tired, but happy," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from the ordeal.

Alicent's gaze shifted to the three babes, her expression one of awe. She reached out to gently stroke the cheek of our daughter, her fingers tender and light. 

"They're beautiful," she said softly, her voice filled with admiration. "Three little blessings. I don't think I've ever seen anything so perfect."

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and joy. 

"They are," I agreed, my voice catching in my throat as I looked down at our daughter. The love I felt for them was overwhelming, almost too much to contain.

Alicent moved her gaze to the two boys in Aemond's arms, her smile deepening as she reached out to touch their tiny hands. 

"Have you decided on names?" she asked, her tone gentle as she looked between us.

Aemond and I exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. We had spent countless nights talking about names, but now that they were here, the decision felt weightier, more significant.

Finally, Aemond spoke, his voice soft yet steady. "We have," he said, his eyes meeting his mother's. "Our daughter will be named Viserra,"

Alicent's eyes softened further, her smile widening. "Viserra," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with reverence. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"And our sons," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "will be named Vaegon and Viserion."

Alicent's eyes flickered with recognition, and she nodded approvingly. "Vaegon and Viserion," she echoed, her voice filled with pride. "Strong names for strong boys. They will carry them well."

She looked between us, her expression one of deep affection and pride. "You have chosen well," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

Alicent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 

"I am so proud of you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have brought such light into this world, and I know you will be wonderful parents."

She stepped back, giving us a moment of privacy, her eyes lingering on the three tiny babes who had already stolen all our hearts. 

"Rest now," she said, her voice tender. "You have earned it and when you're ready, we will celebrate these new additions to our family."

As she left the room, the warmth of her presence lingered, filling the chamber with a sense of peace and fulfilment. Aemond looked at me, his face filled with love and gratitude. 

"Viserra, Vaegon, and Viserion," he repeated softly as if the names were a prayer, a promise for the future.

I nodded, smiling through my tears as I looked down at our children. "They're perfect," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for the tiny lives we had brought into the world.

Aemond leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hand resting gently on our daughter's back. 

As we sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of our love and the promise of our future, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.

A/n - I swear thinking of the names took longer than writing the whole thing literally had to hop onto reddit.

Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy

[ddarker-dreams]

Hi! I have a question, you can ignore this if you want to but I’ve found myself really loving the way you write and the range of writing you can articulate as well. Speaking from someone who is nowhere close to that level of skill you possess, would you mind being able to explain your journey of writing, if you practiced any particular methods or anything else to get to this stage you are at right now? Unless you have been gifted the talent of writing from birth and didn’t need to try for much long or long enough to call it a journey. Could you also spare some tips and advice for someone who wants to start writing stories and what to look into/practice?

I love your work a lot and I am constantly waiting for the notification of your new posts, despite not being a writer myself I do love breaking down and analysing writing and your stories are always such good options for me to look into. Thank you so much for writing and sparing your time to produce such well done pieces of work — I felt extremely corny writing this, excuse me for this language, I promise I’m not a pimp!

THIS ISN'T CORNY AT ALL!!!! ❌🌽❌!!!!

i'm deeply grateful for all your kind words, thank you so so much 😭

i don't mean this in a self-deprecating way, but i've never considered myself a gifted or super incredible writer, i just get hype about story ideas and try to make them as good as i can. due to that, i start sweating when people ask for advice because i don't consider myself qualified... i do have a writing advice tag, but take everything i say with a grain of salt!! if it's fanfic literally all that matters is that you enjoy whatever you're writing.

i'm more than happy to share my writing journey though!! it's kinda fun to reminiscence.

i've loved reading and writing ever since i was a little lock. while thinking about this ask, it occurred to me that what i've always been the most invested in are the characters. i'd think about 275894275 different storylines with them. i didn't start writing fanfic until i was around 11 though, everything was handwritten. or in flipnote hatena.

i did a lot of fanfic writing from 11-14 buuuut then my interest in it kinda fizzled out. it wasn't until i watched hxh for the first time that i took it up again bc chrollo is that powerful. that's when i started conceptualizing HWR. i looked at my early writing folder, the first HWR fanfic i wrote was in 2016 when i was 15 ?? here's a cursed excerpt:

anyway, once i started making googly eyes at chrollo, it was gg. i've been writing often ever since.

what's helped me the most is to focus on the elements i find interesting. for example, i like fleshing out my MCs, focusing on dialogue, and developing a universe around the main pairing. because i enjoy this so much it's (mostly) always easy to devote time and effort toward it.

so i think it comes down to finding out what niches you like and working with those. some writers prefer to write with heavy prose, others are more succinct, some writers like dialogue, others prefer to be more action based... etc etc. this does require a little time if you're completely new to writing, but you know yourself best. you'll eventually pick up on what part of the story you're most excited to write.

this isn't particularly mind-blowing or anything but i hope it helps some 😭 what completely Altered my mindset was when i realized i can be as self-indulgent as humanly possible. cringe is not in my vocabulary. write a MC where every single character is in love with them if you want. write a 100k word fic about your OC being isekaid into x world. post about your f/os, draw art of you with your fav, go ham.

[practically-an-x-man]

I just finished Who Waits Forever Anyway? and I just wanted to drop in and say that I ADORED EVERY MINUTE I SPENT READING IT. I'm not in the NATM fandom (I haven't even thought about it for like 10 years lol) but wow the mythology the characters the THEMES. I love how you fleshed out The Magic and made everything cohesive, especially all the small hints (I think I saw something about Katherine's drawings turning blue being a reference to Osiris which made me lose my mind). There were just so many things that made me go "Yes! Nobody ever gets that right!!" It was clearly so well-crafted, both in the writing and the research. I'm not super articulate when I try to talk about fics I like but I'm just so overwhelmed with love for this one. (Also, I was wondering, is the "vitiligo meaning Ra has looked upon you" connected to a real association from back then?)

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I'm so glad you liked it!! This fic has been a love letter to history and mythology in every single way, and it means so much to me that another mythology nerd enjoyed it!

I was this 🤏 close to being an Egyptologist myself (I was an anthropology major for a bit, but college wasn't the right place for me) and I still have so much love for that branch of history, and just history as a whole. I even gathered sources and intended to write a paper suggesting the god Tutu was borrowed from the Babylonian god of the same name after the Neo-Babylonians entered Egypt... but the Egyptologist I was trying to contact for more information never emailed me back, so that was a bust. Either way, I'm a HUGE nerd for this stuff and I've really enjoyed implementing it into the fic!!

(fun fact: the professor Katherine talks to about the tactile worker's scroll is modeled after my Development of Western Civilizations professor in college, since he was a really cool guy and I wanted to give him a shoutout. His focus was Roman history rather than Egyptian, but the mannerisms and speech patterns are the same)

As for the vitiligo thing... yes and no. The premise of it is just something I came up with, there's nothing (currently found at least) that suggests they saw vitiligo as linked to Ra or the other gods in any way, but I did try to keep it rooted in the evidence I did find. Vitiligo was indeed present and known in Ancient Egypt, as treatments for it were mentioned in the Ebers Papyrus of medicine (in case you were curious, the treatments involved rubbing the skin with certain plant oils, then having the person sit in the sun. It reads to me like a method to tan the afflicted skin to make the vitiligo marks less visible). As for the connection to the sun god, I borrowed that from a Vedic myth about Bhagavatam (the sun god) being looked on by his illegitimate son and developing vitiligo as a result. It's sort of an... educated guess, let's say, since the condition was present and we see similar myths in other parts of the world.

I feel like there's a fair amount of these connections throughout the fic - it's a combination of just pure facts from my research into the various cultures and historical timeline, and a bit of educated speculation on my part (mostly just for fun, sometimes to tie story elements together in a satisfying way). The NATM movies are part of what initially sparked my love of museums and history, and as an adult I love how much work went into the sets and costuming, so I wanted this fic to reflect the same level of education mixed with entertainment.

Oh, and don't worry - there's more I have planned for this fic, I've just been damn busy these past few months and am still working on writing the next chapter. I'll get there soon, I promise!! This isn't the end just yet!

Thank you again for reading and giving me your thoughts!! You have no idea how much this made my day!! I'm smiling so much at this!!! <3

[alanahleadership]

Week 6

Review again the video clip on the Indian talking stick and intentful listening. Over the course of the next week find an opportunity with someone familiar to experience this kind of communication. Reflect on your experience and complete the following questions:

1. Describe the situation and what happened;

I am currently in the market for a new pet. An animal that I have wanted to keep ever since I was little is a snake. Unfortunately, I am somehow a snake lover that was born into a completely ophidiophobic family (Phobia of snakes). Needless to say, that makes my situation rather difficult. I wanted to talk with them about it, but I also wanted to make sure they truly heard me, so I figured this exercise would be perfect for such a sensitive topic. I started off by explaining the concept to them and used a T.V. remote as the “Talking stick”. After I was sure they understood I began my “Why I should be allowed to have a snake” speech. Judging by the looks on their faces, I already knew things were not going to go in my favour, but I had their attention and their ears, so I was going to make the most of it. I went over all my most compelling points:

-snakes only eat about once a week.

-snakes only go to the bathroom about once a week.

-they are quiet.

-Inexpensive in the long run.

-I would cover all of its expenses, they would not have to pay for anything.

-Went over all the reasons why they shouldn’t worry about it escaping.

-and promised that I would always keep the snake in my room while they were home, respect their boundaries, and never try to use the snake to scare them in any way.

They let me go on for quite some time. When my turn was over, I handed the remote to my mom who immediately said “No”. Then during my dads turn, it simply boiled down to the fact that he hates them. It was difficult, but I resisted the urge to talk while she was explaining her reasoning. However, even though the outcome was not what I wanted, I left that interaction feeling better than I thought.

2. What did you experience that was important or interesting;

My ophodiophobic parents actually listening to my arguments about snakes and clearing up their misconceptions was a nice feeling. I knew deep down that they were still going to say no, but just them hearing me out and knowing that they were completely listening to me made me feel good about it even if their answer was not what I wanted. I still felt heard and understood. Well, not “understood” in the sense that they could understand why I wanted a snake in the first place but understood in that they could admittedly see my points.

3. What did you learn about building trust from intentful listening from this experience;

I learned that when you build an understanding with others and they fulfil your request, it makes you feel much more comfortable that you normally would feel. If I was having this conversation with my parents without this method, I know they would interrupting me with “NO”s over and over with everything I said. Knowing that they would actually respect the activity and allow me space to fully speak and articulate what I wanted to say made me feel very comfortable and trust them to listen to me about something hard for them to hear.

4. How you might apply this new knowledge to another leadership opportunity?

The talking stick method is a technique I can see myself utilizing when dealing with sensitive topics and having difficult conversations that might drum up emotional reactions. It is also a technique I will use in situations where people keep talking over each other and are not listening. When in a disagreement, it is important that all sides are heard and fully understood. With my snake example, I may not be able to understand why my parents are afraid of snakes (to me, they’re just a goofy noodle with a head), but I can relate it to my own phobia of vaccine needles. If someone told me I had to get a new vaccine every single day for no reason, I would also be extremely against that. It would be similar for my parents to live under the same roof as one of their worst fears. The talking stick method also made me more understanding of my parents, as well. However, I have not given up and we did not agree that this conversation was over, so I will be bringing this technique back up in the future to plead my case on getting a pet snake once again.

[darkened-writer]

As You Wish- (A Knight! Bucky x Servant! Reader) Pt.1

    A Winter’s Night on a full moon beckoned the kingdom as the regal princess made her way to the main hall, her servant and hand-maiden, Y/N, trailing behind her. There was to be a war of great violence to befall the kingdom and The King needed his daughters support.

    “Why do I have to come? I don’t even have full  control over the kingdom and yet.. Father insists I attend.” The Young Princess groaned, her skin tight, blue gown flowing against the linoleum flooring.

Elegant.

 “Your Father insists, your highness, but I will be there with you if you so need anything at all.” 

 The Princess smiled as she stopped in front of the main hall’s doors, turning to look at Y/N. Her gaze was soft as lilies on a sunny afternoon, like the smell of orange peels and lemon.

 “Thank you.. I am glad I have you by my side, even as a servant and hand-maiden, you have been an amazing friend and an amazing companion..”

Y/N, smiling even with a dirty face covered in soot, curtseyed, her semi-clean dress in her hands.

“Thank you, Your Highness.. Let me get the door for you..”

Y/N, quickly but methodically, went up to the door and pushed it open, the door creaking and alerting The King of his daughters arrival. Y/N held the door open and The Princess walked in, taking a seat at the large table.

‘A War Table?’, Y/N thought, then closing the large door and taking her place next to The Princess.

“Today, we speak on our plans of war. The Three Kingdoms have started war and our allies need our help. However, many of my associates have told me to lay down my sword and leave it be. I do not want to break the oath I made years ago so I am to make plans of war. I need opinions and thoughts of best interest.”

Y/N examined everyone seated among the table, seeing their mannerisms and ways of carrying themselves. 

Natasha Of The ‘Zucan Empire’, was a mighty knight and the right hand of The King, Ser Steve of ‘Vaweth’, The Lead Knights of the battalion, his gaze was menacing but soft in an odd way. But, a strange knight caught Y/N’s eyes, his stature was tight and rigid and his face was hidden behind a metal helmet, the only visible feature being his nose, eyes, and a bit of his mouth. His eyes carried great pain, an intense and great pain that had caught the servant by the throat. 

But, she never expected to have him lock eyes with her. His eyes now giving her a feeling, almost of a thunderous storm in the great mountains, the smell of pine and metal and a intense feeling of safeness. 

Their eyes stayed locked only for a bit until The King called upon him to speak.

“Based on the battlefield in which the troops will be placed, I say we put our weaker in the front and our stronger in the back. The opposing won’t expect it, and we can hit them ten times harder than they may hit us.” His voice came out deep and gravelly, but smooth, his words articulate and well spoken.

“His name is ‘The White Wolf’, he is said to be the greatest knight in all the four kingdoms and he serves under my dad..” The Princess whispered to Y/N, Y/N’s eyes widening a bit at the odd name.

“He is known for slaying the dragon that had consumed our lands, I think the dragon was called, ‘Hydra’?”

Y/N nodded, looking back up at the table as they continued to speak.

“White Wolf, I need you to get recruitments for the knights guard, I need the strong and I need the weak, any man or woman will work. Natasha, you will set up our camping for the knights, and manage the rations. Steve, I will be needing you to stay with me until we have our battalion, I am afraid that a assasination attempt may come now that the other kingdoms know that I am joining the fight..”

They all nodded and the meeting was closed, The King coming towards his daughter and hugging her, “I’m glad you came, Daughter. I was afraid Y/N may have to tear you from your chambers.”

She laughed, “Well, you need as much support as you can get father..” 

Y/N however wasn’t listening, her gaze on the knight with the wolf pelts draped over his shoulders, and iron armor clad over his entire self. He was sharpening his blade with a tool, eyes trained on Y/N, she quickly adverted her gaze as The King now turned to her.

“You may talk to our knights, Y/N. You are the best servant we’ve had in this castle, you deserve to have a social life.” He chuckled.

She nodded, and bowed before walking over to ‘The White Wolf’, “You sure do like to stare, don’t you?”

She was taken aback by his words, rubbing her dirtied hands nervously together, “I do not stare, I simply analyze people based on how they behave, you are my object of interest..”

“Mm.” He grumbled, “And, Why’s that?”

“You are far more mysterious than anyone I have ever seen in this castle, and I have been working here since I was six years old..”

His gaze raised up to her, his eyes piercing through her. 

“I’d say, you mind your business before you get hurt, girl.” He got up and sheathed his blade, stomping his way out of the room.

“Well, you sure are a charmer, hm?” 

Natasha had made her way up to her and smiled, reaching a hand out to shake.

“Names Natasha but you can call me ‘Nat’ for short.” The two shook hands, Natasha’s leather glove feeling foreign on Y/N hand.

“Is he always so.. brooding?”

“Yeah, comes with the title and such. Once you’re known for being ruthless, you have to stay ruthless. Say, do you want to go on a walk? The whole battle talk gets me tired.”

With a giggle, Y/N led the mighty female knight to the garden’s, the roses and leaves overgrown over the archway. 

“So, you have been serving the kingdom since you were, SIX? How does one even serve at that age?”

“Well, my mother served under the queen and my father was a servant, once I was born, my parents knew I’d grow into a strong lady but a servant non the less. A month after my birth, the queen had given birth to the princess and died after, leaving the king to care for his child, but, once I was of age to care for myself and care for another, I was to be her handmaiden. And.. here we are.”

Natasha was frankly shocked, how could a girl of such beauty be a handmaiden? She should be out living life, being happy and in love, but she was cooped up in this castle, doomed to an eternity of taking care of someone who isn’t herself.

“I always wanted to be a knight though..”

That piqued her interest.

“I grew up watching the knights go out to fight and I always, always wanted to fight too.”

“You still can.”

“What..?”

Natasha sat down on the garden bench and beckoned the girl to sit, ready to explain.

“I could.. train you.. to be strong, skilled, a true warrior. You are weak now but after even a month of training with me, you’d be ready for battle.”

Y/N listened intently, weighing the consequences of being a warrior, to abandon her post as a servant and handmaiden to fight a war. Would her father and mother approve, would they pat her back and tell her to go for it? 

“I’d need the king and princesses permis-”

“I’ll do it.” She interrupted. 

“You’ll..?”

“I’ll fight, I’ll train, and I’ll become strong, as long as you help me.”

Natasha’s once serious face melted into a smirk, now wrapping her arm around Y/N.

“Well, Let’s go talk to them.”

“You want to take her under your wing to be a knight?”

“Yes, I feel she is capable of becoming great-”

I sat outside of the doors, listening to them talk about me becoming a knight, my eyes trained on the wall as I zoned out into my thoughts, until a tall figure loomed over me, the wolf pelts familiar as I looked up and locked eyes with him. 

“Come with me.”

“Why?” I protested.

“Just come on, girl. I don’t have all day..”

I got up, watching him as he made his way towards the ball room, I followed intently, curious of his reasoning for finding me. His boots clanged against the ground as he opened the door and went inside of the ball room, I cautiously followed.

He set his sword to the ground carefully, eyes trained on me as I entered.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing out a theory...”

He slid the helmet off and let it fall to the ground, then turning to me. And, my my, his eyes, his lips, his nose, the crinkle of skin just above his brows, all came together almost in a masterpiece, a crescendo. The seemingly bad feelings previously about him had flown away like the birds outside the ball room windows, the light perfectly cascading over his face, I knew then and there, he was beautiful.

“Put the armor on.”

“...What?”

He plucked the armor off of his body and pushed it towards me, face straight and devoid of any particular emotion.

“Okay..”

I began to put each piece of armor on, my body slumping slowly but surely due to the weight until all pieces were on and I looked up at him, noting the widened eyes and semi-slacked mouth.

“You...You are her.”

“W-Who...?”

“Athelesia The Fierce..”

“Athelesia was a woman of many traits, she was determined, strong, fearless, and not to mention bold. She had been seen as a savior to many villages, even before the kings arose to power. She protected them, helped them, served them, as a noble person may do. Her fighting skills too were even more powerful then then strongest men of the lands, however, as she was becoming more known, the men we know as the kings today had her killed. It took thirty men to keep her down and in her last breath, she made a promise, that she’d have a descendant that would hold her power, her essence, and her aura. That they would arise one day and slay the poisoned kings to restore true peace to the lands once again. The armor I wear is the one she made back in her time, it was gifted to me but now I know who it truly belongs to...”

Y/N soaked up all the information but still couldn’t grasp how she was to be the greatest warrior of all time. She’s never touched a sword or even fought anyone in her life. She just wanted to be a regular knight, not one of some prophecy. 

He brought the sword in it’s sheath to Y/N, placing it in her hands.

“This was her sword, use it, and train to fulfill the prophecy.”

“How do you know that I-”

“The pendant you wear.”

Y/N looked down at the silver pendant, turning the ruby over to see a name carved into the crystal.

‘Athelesia’

“I- What..”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, his eyes looking deep into hers as he spoke five words that would change her fate forever.

“You are Y/N The Fierce.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

some thoughts that might seem unrelated but aren’t, i promise:

— in that atomic habits book I read a couple weeks back the author talks about using a specific, action-oriented question repeated throughout the day to help you build or break habits (like “what would a physically fit person do?” or “what would a sober person do?”).   

— the aging books i was reading last month noted that people who score high in conscientiousness (on the Big Five personality traits) tend to age most successfully ie enjoy the longest stretch of active years. to quote this article, conscientiousness is “a fundamental personality trait—one of the Big Five—that reflects the tendency to be responsible, organized, hard-working, goal-directed, and to adhere to norms and rules...Conscientiousness comprises self-control, industriousness, responsibility, and reliability. A conscientious person is good at self-regulation and impulse control. This trait influences whether you will set and keep long-range goals, deliberate over choices, behave cautiously or impulsively, and take obligations to others seriously.” I tend to score very high in openness but very, very low in conscientiousness. more on this in a bit...  

— my sister and i were talking recently about different kinds of intelligence, and also about core values. one of hers is efficiency, a word that i have all kinds of negative associations with lol but that she explained in ways i found really intriguing. for her efficiency isn’t about, like, Maximizing Productivity for Capitalism but is about methodically searching for the most effective, least confusing or redundant, most easily-communicable-to-others way to solve complex problems. when she encounters a system that has all kinds of weird bottlenecks or inefficient, time-consuming ways of completing a task (esp if the rationale for those methods is just “well.. that’s how we’ve always done it”), she starts immediately examining the larger structures and workflows around those bottlenecks to see if the established ways of doing things can be rerouted or simplified, and then she constructs new protocols or tools for people to use instead of the old inefficient way of working. efficiency will never be a core value of mine, in part because i think my humanities-oriented brain accords more value than her STEM/medicine-oriented brain does to wandering, daydreaming, slowed-down thinking, doubling-back or retracing one’s steps, and other “inefficient” modes of thinking that slow down the process but can lead you in unexpected directions or spark unanticipated epiphanies that illuminate the larger structures differently. i think we both share a keen interest in systems-level thinking and in examining whether established ways of doing things are the most effective ways of doing things, but we prioritize different modes of thinking and problem-solving in figuring out how to alter or redesign those larger systems (which is probably a result of temperament differences + our field-specific training).

THAT SAID, i have been thinking a lot about how one area of my own intelligence i would like to sharpen/hone in both my professional and personal life is like... a mode of intelligence that is linked to rigor, a more methodical approach to problem-solving, and the ability to construct & more methodically test detailed mental schemas. not quite sure how to articulate that but i feel like my thinking has gotten a little fuzzier than i want it to. and I think maybe this sensed fuzziness in thinking is linked to some of my ongoing feelings of restless discontent re: work. I also just in general want to be more conscientious in how I approach and solve problems, or in how I tackle big and small projects.

— this is more tangentially connected but: i feel like one thing i’ve noticed this year is that a lot of the people i admire professionally are really good at seeking out & taking on lots and lots of additional challenges or commitments, and they can do this in part because they tend to be very conscientious people, ie people who have big-picture vision but are also very detail-oriented and good at managing their time effectively & doing things efficiently so they can take on multiple projects without feeling overwhelmed. i feel like my own low-conscientiousness means that i can’t take full advantage of my high-openness—often i want to take on new projects or challenges but i worry that i’ll overextend myself or that the project will become more time-consuming than i anticipate. i think is linked to a different sort of fuzziness, ie a lack of clarity about how long things take or how much time i have — all combined with a deeply ingrained sense of myself as someone with executive dysfunction issues (poor time management, poor planning skills, poor organizational abilities, etc.). i think of myself as a very inefficient and extraordinarily disorganized person, whether this is 100% accurate or not, and that can sometimes lead to me taking myself out of the running for opportunities or limiting the number of projects i take on out of a fear that i won’t be disciplined enough to see them through.

— another thing my sister and i were talking about recently is how within large families, siblings tend to get assigned a “role” or a personality within the family dynamic very early on, and then they get sort of locked into that over time. everyone in the family expects them to always behave in that way, and there’s often a lot of unconscious resistance to letting your family members change or grow or develop in ways that contradict the clearly defined family role that’s been assigned to them, or the family “story” that everyone else in the family tells about them. you can get locked into both positive and negative roles—or like, often the positive role has a negative flipside. we were talking about how within our family, i’ve been “assigned” to be the “deep thinker” ie the introspective one who spends my life writing and thinking and daydreaming, whereas my sister has been assigned the role of being most like my father, ie very methodical, analytical, unemotional, and action-oriented (and therefore not introspective or inward-looking). and we were talking about how both of these have a negative flipside: my sister feels like she doesn’t get to be a “deep thinker,” or an introspective, emotionally intelligent person; whereas i feel like in my family’s story for me i am forever in “lalaland,” as my mom always says—head in the clouds, an ineffectual dreamer, the absentminded professor who has lots of big thoughts and feelings but is incapable of bringing any of my fantastical ideas to fruition because i have very little practical knowledge or stick-to-itiveness.  

— as i’ve said many times before, i feel like i can’t solve the big-picture issues with my job right now, since so many of them are linked to shitty pandemic realities. but i was thinking that maybe one way to begin laying the groundwork for this final year in my job might be to work on strengthening my conscientiousness at the micro-level, ie in small everyday habits and interactions. my hope is that maybe by practicing conscientiousness in lots of small, low-stakes situations, i can start strengthening those muscles and building trust in myself as “the kind of person who does ____” (which i feel like is necessary for me to begin challenging the family story i’ve internalized what i am like). i mean, there is a lot of truth to that family story! but i bet that those aspects of my personality are nowhere near as inflexible or as like, divinely preordained as i have often assumed they are. like, i bet that through practice & through building better habits i can actually become significantly more conscientiousness (reliable, responsible, hardworking, efficient, good at follow-through, self-disciplined, etc) than i am now. and while efficiency may never be as central a value for me as it is for my sister, i think there is probably a way for me to see efficiency and conscientiousness as linked to my own core values, if only because those qualities or traits will allow me to better enact/embody my core values. so i think i can see it not as working against the grain of my personality, but as working to build out less-developed parts of my personality to strengthen the parts of my character that i value most.

— anyway this is all to say that for the last week i’ve been asking myself aloud “what would a conscientious person do?” multiple times a day, really any time i find myself at a small crossroads where i have to make a small decision. do i pick up that piece of cardboard and put it in the recycling bin now or leave it till later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i return that call from the plumber now or put it off until later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i take two minutes to pay that $4 toll bill now or put it on the giant stack of “tasks i will definitely deal with when i’m in the mood to deal with them,” where it will inevitably become a $25 and then $50 bill because i forgot about it and now have to pay late fees? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i comment on that student’s draft now when i’d rather be on the couch scrolling through social media? (i could probably do it tomorrow, when i have another block of free time, but what would a conscientious person do?) i have no idea if it will work in the long term!! but it’s been an intriguing experiment so far, mostly because i think it is teaching me that many of the tasks i build up in my head as incredibly time-consuming are actually quite quick, and once you finish them you also free up all the mental energy you were putting into procrastinating on them, and are better able to move onto the next thing. i also feel like it is teaching me that uhh maybe a conscientious person is not like, a completely different species of human being, but just a person who has different habits or patterns of response to daily choices than i do. that feels important too: if we are what we repeatedly or habitually do, then changing what i habitually do can probably change the kind of person i am!   i’m finding that there’s something very useful about the simplicity of the question, too. deliberately posing the question to myself interrupts my habitual, unconscious response (which is always some version of “i don’t have the energy to deal with that / don’t want to expend that energy right now -- i’ll put it off till later”) -- it requires me to stop and focus my attention on the present situation instead of sliding right past it without thinking about it. and there’s also something quite satisfying about framing it as a choice or a decision: i get to choose what to do, ie i get to exercise agency, and exercising agency makes your brain feel happy (we like to feel in control! we like making choices!). so throughout the day i get to experience lots of little bursts of whatever gets released in the brain when you make a decision and immediately follow through with it, and i think/hope that this kind of positive reinforcement is helping to strengthen those circuits and lay down the groundwork for new patterns of habitual response. 

those are some thoughts this morning!! now i am going to allow myself a few minutes of sloth lol and then i’ll get up and exercise.

[jadedadultritsu]

(hope am not bothering) So like I looked up Birth flowers for January and October (wangxian's bday months) and idk if mxtx did it on purpose but the symbolisms of their birth flowers describes their personalities v accurately and if mxtx did assigned their birthday months like that on purpose they are an absolute genius (sorry if my words don't make sense I'm not very articulate but I need to infodump on some1 so am sorry)

You're not bothering me at all! Why would you think that. 😟😖😭

If anything, this is an opportunity for me to put my research skills into practice and I’m gonna go grab whatever. Also, this is actually an interesting question! :O I will do my best to answer this. So first off, I’ve consulted google if there is a similar ask from before bc 1) we don’t want a duplicate work 2) in case there’s already an existing ask, cross-referencing would be pretty nice :D 3) my memory fails me if I did see interpretations of WangXian birth flowers before, I think I did but I guess it got lost in the v. depths of the internet lmao. So if we looked up at the same site, there isn’t much to interpret actually. But I can def connect it to some events all across adaptions with a few takes haha. 

Ok ok, so here it goes:

For Lan Wangji: January - Carnations & Snowdrops

DUDE, both flowers can bloom in the cold winter months?! And this characteristic is RARE? HELL YES! These flowers are insane, they are to be envied by other flowers they should start shedding off their own petals by now lol (lemme at least personify them). You know who else could withstand such unbearable cold weather?

Him and HIM.

Carnations are also easy to spot bc of its bright color (pretty pretty boy Hanguang-jun in the crowd isn’t smth you see everyday).

Snowdrops symbolizes hope and rebirth. LWJ had hoped countless times already for different things but it’s not like it’s all directed solely for himself. LWJ isn’t a one-dimensional character who exists just to complement (or contrast) WWX’s chara. Remember the line Hanguang-jun being “wherever the chaos is”. I believe some ppl rlly wondered why LWJ didn’t take his own life if he truly loved WWX? (wtf is that even). Who wants another vers. of Romeo and Juliet? He wished to carry on bc of their oaths (paper lantern scene in CQL) and to ward off evil. Plus, WWX’s promise aligns to that of LWJ’s moral values so he HOPED to get them fulfilled as much as possible, prolly 'til his last breath. Ppl keep forgetting that LWJ is an individual too, while I could understand and relate when ppl see them as a single unit mostly. Song Lan still carried on with night-hunting with XXC and AQ’s souls HOPING he could mend them along the way. I'd say that "if he dies, I die too" death trope is so boring now, I could dieeee myself, sir. JC didn't dismiss the possibility of WWX reincarnating. So LWJ must've his fair share of hope that WWX would reincarnate anytime in his lifetime. He's not gonna pursue love anywhere else. It can only be WWX. LWJ's rule-abiding nature loosened significantly during the Nightless City incident. Post-burial mounds siege, he didn't completely cut himself off from the sect affairs, but he did engage with them minimally. That, my friend, is his own vers. of rebirth (a.k.a. character dev't)

Snowdrops are well-known for being droopy-shaped flowers. I interpret this as, although esteemed and ppl have high regards for him, HGJ could still humble himself inspite of the facts.

For Wei Wuxian: October - Marigold & Cosmos

Marigolds’ vibrant color says a lot abt October babies huh. Marigolds symbolize fierce love, passion and creativity. Fierce love for family? Burning passion for knowledge? Need I say more? Creativity idk why but the first thing that popped up in my mind is paper man Wuxian since he’s the only one shown to use that ability. WWX also strives to think outside of the box by thinking of a fourth method in LQR’s quest abt dealing with the resentful executioner’s ghost. I recall a tumblr user saying how WWX is a nerd locking himself up in the Demon-Slaughtering Cave performing experiments, inventing demonic tools, and whatnot. So he wasn’t merely a mischief-maker all along lmao. "Marigolds also have a long tradition of being used medicinally to heal inflammation and skin problems” - sure, if transferring the cursed mark from JL’s leg to your own leg would count lol.

Cosmos flowers represent peace and tranquility. Although loud most of the time, he can read and sense any f up situation and can appreciate peace at times and as needed. “They also attract bees, so are a great flower to grow to draw pollinators to your garden!” dkdnfkdnfdk LWJ is the bee. <3

So you’ve finally reached the end, I applaud you. Congrats and thank you for keeping up with me this far. Now let’s get to the real quest, did MXTX assign the birth months to her chara’s on purpose with that basis in mind? Was it purely coincidence? I vote for the latter. If I were a Danmei author and I wanted to assign a birth month for the stoic-faced and icy personality chara, I’d conveniently assign a winter month. Same goes for WWX. Since WWX shifted to the heretic and wicked path, I, too, would conveniently assign him a birthday near Halloween. Surely, the birth flowers interpreters have also given this a lot of thought associating the corresponding flowers accordingly to the seasons while meticulously considering the characteristics of these flowers.

[goatsandgangsters]

do you have any writing tips pls 🥺🥺

Ohhh big question! I’m flattered that you want my writing thoughts, anon!

So. Are we talking about tips on getting through writer’s block/sitting down and actually writing? The mechanics of writing itself, the individual sentences and word choices? Developing a plot? Characters or dialogue? Drafting and revising? If there’s a specific part of the process that’s angsting you, let me know, I’m happy to say more on that. For now I’ll try and touch on as much as broadly as I can.

Writing is a process, a craft, a practice. A joy and a trial. The act of hitting some keys with your fingers but also making something out of nothing. Which is to say—it comes with practice, it can be frustrating, it can be rewarding, and however you’re feeling about writing, you’re not the only one.

Inspiration/actually sitting down to write:

I find that writing is like exercise. Yes, in the sense that it takes practice to build up those muscles, but MORE IMPORTANTLY writing, like exercise, makes me groan and go “but that’s haaaaard I don’t wanna doooooo it, what if I just siiiit here insteaaaad.” And then I grudgingly get started. And I start to get into the rhythm. And then “oh goddammit. This DOES feel good.” I’ve still never experienced a runner’s high, but I have experienced “no I don’t wanna write. well I guess I’ll write. oh hey I’m writing. oH HEY!! I’M WRITING!!!” Sometimes you just need to push yourself through to start.

That said, sometimes you don’t need to push yourself to start. Sometimes it’s better to let something sit. It’s okay to pivot to another project if you’ve stalled out on one. I saw a post once that called this “crop rotation” and I think that’s true. Sometimes the challenge is getting started, but even when you can’t get started, the time away can be valuable, because it allows you to return with fresh ideas and fresh ideas.

I love using Fighter’s Block for when I can’t get started. It curbs my perfectionist tendency to write the same first sentence over and over again by forcing me to write consistently and quickly without refreshing tumblr between every sentence. Once I’ve got a paragraph, I’ve got enough of a rhythm going to keep writing on my own. You can use it for longer stretches of time, but I find a couple rounds of 200 word count goals is enough to get me through the inertia of getting started.

Read a lot:

Reading makes you a better writer. You will absorb aspects of the craft in the process—sentence structure, rhythm, plot beats.

Then think about what you read. Think about what works. Think about what doesn’t. Notice sentences that you love—not by meaning but by sound. Think about how the story is told, how the plot elements come together, how the themes operate, how the narrative is structured. Did the flashbacks works or were they superfluous? Did you love the metaphors and descriptive language, or did it feel vague and unhelpful? What parts grabbed you, what parts didn’t?

Being able to identify what does and doesn’t work in someone else’s writing will help you apply it to your own. It will also help you craft your own voice and style.

Use writing tips as a challenge, not a rule:

We’ve all seen those “writing rules” like don’t use adverbs, don’t say feels or thinks, don’t say said. Never listen to writing “rules”; instead, see them as a writing “challenge.” You don’t need to jettison every single adverb or permanently strike certain words from your writing. Sometimes, an adverb is the best word. And sometimes it isn’t.

These tips are useful, but not as hard-and-fast rules that must be obeyed every time under every circumstance. Instead, use them as tools to challenge you to think about your writing in new ways, to see if there’s a better way to say something (and maybe there is and maybe there isn’t), and to bring a freshness to the process.

I actually do really like to challenge myself to minimize feels and thinks. “He feels sick to his stomach” will pretty much always be less powerful than “His stomach lurches.” But sometimes feels and thinks work better, either because I need quick exposition or because it specifically emphasizes a thought or a feeling as perception. Again, it’s not about rules. It’s about challenging your habits to breathe new life into your writing. 

Revising tools:

if you’re a tactile person and you own a printer (which I am but I don’t), I like to print out a draft and sit on the floor with a pen and a highlighter and highlight anything that sounds clunky or that doesn’t quite fit. Then I massage those specific sentences, looking for other ways to say them, and narrow in on those parts rather than trying to edit everything overall.

The hemingway app method (as long as you know you’re allowed to disagree with it) can be good to catch certain things. Sometimes I use it and think “yeah that sentences IS too long and awkward, I should rephrase it” and sometimes I think “nah, that sentence is long but it’s controlled and it works.” Sometimes it’s useful in pointing out that I used the word just way too many times; sometimes I’ll keep my adverbs thanks.

Retyping the entire thing in another word document is another revising trick. So is reading the entire think out loud to yourself (your actual ear will catch awkward rhythms or typos that your inner voice glossed over).

(Note: I don’t do all of these all the time. I revise with whichever method I happen to be feeling at the moment)

Character interactions:

Overly expository character interactions are probably my #1 writing pet peeve. People don’t say what they mean. They don’t calmly and carefully and eloquently articulate exactly what they feel. If your characters are conversing in well-practiced monologues where they’re able to objectively analyze and express their exact feelings, it’s not believable. It’s also not fun for the reader, because Explanations of Emotions are being used as a stand-in for actual emotions.

Example: You don’t have a breakdown because you’re stressed about losing your job and you had a fight with your sister and you’re also the protagonist who has to save the entire world. You have a breakdown because you can’t find your fucking pen. It was here a moment ago, you know it was, you put it THERE because that’s where you PUT things but now it’s gone and the pen is gone and you can’t even find the fucking pen so how are you going to save the world and everything is going to SHIT because you can’t FIND your goddamn pEN.

Your character is probably not even an expert on their own feelings, let alone able to objectively explain them to someone else. There are things we can’t make ourselves say out loud. We deflect. We put all the big feelings into small things. We squeeze someone’s hand and say come on, let’s make dinner because you can’t say everything is going to be okay I promise you and I love you so much and one day you’ll see that it’ll all work out.

What are your characters saying with their body? What are they saying with what’s left unsaid? And when are they saying something Else that’s really about Them? (“You did what you had to do,” character A assures character B, because character A’s own guilt weighs on them. They’ll never say this out loud. They don’t even need to specifically think “just like my own guilt, which weighs on me.” We know it by what they say, about other people and about other things, because these are the times when you’re really talking about yourself)

Also, the size of the emotion displayed does not translate into the size of the emotional impact on the reader. A big sweeping declaration of I love you shouldn’t be used as a stand-in for real chemistry or a moment of love that is specific to those characters. An absolute sobbing breakdown isn’t inherently more tragic for its size. You don’t need torture porn to evoke angst. Emotions are a lot more subtle than that. Using a caricature of emotion in the extreme often cheapens the emotion for the reader, rather than enhancing it. 

Other assorted tips:

Write notes! Sit up at 3 AM and write down a snippet of dialogue in a note on your phone! Jot down the plot idea for later! Note the phrase you heard someone say that sounds like it would be a good title.

If you can’t figure out how to end your story or your section or your chapter, it might be because it’s already over and the story has finished telling itself. If the beginning doesn’t feel right, if it feels slow and clunky, it might be because your starting place is too early. If the character interaction feels wrong or the scene isn’t going right or you can’t make that line of dialogue work, the problem is probably about 5 or 10 lines up where you took a wrong turn.

An em dash—like the one I used here—separates out a part of the sentence that couldn’t be a sentence on its own. Semicolons join two independent sentences together; this is an example.

The dialogue tag is part of the sentence. Correct: “I love dogs,” he said. or “I love dogs.” Incorrect: “I love dogs.” he said. or “I love dogs,” He said.

That’s everything that comes to mind immediately. If there’s another part of the process that you want me to focus on, let me know! I’m happy to go more in-depth on specifics! 

[wisteria-lodge]

a thank you from an unburning lion secondary, with faulty bird model

I’m the lion primary who was doubting itself and who talked their way in your anon box to understanding themselves. You were pretty comprehensive and it was nice to really notice we share primaries xD One thing shocked me and left me O_O was at the end, when I left that commentary about bullies (my school knew me both for my excellent notes and my fights both bcs i couldnt left a situation alone) and you said, wow and a lion secondary.

i was shocked. Like I say this and I remember my earlier years and the problems I’ve always have talking with people and it’s my bluntness and lack of attention to others feelings which had always have my mother scolding me after going out with her or talking with friends or telling her about any interaction. Same with my father. And then I stopped. I started reading, I fell for fanfiction and manga, and lost my childhood friends bcs I coudn’t relate to them, and during all of HS until my second year of university I was so so alone. 

And I didn’t speak out about my feels. I still don’t. Not to my family not to anybody. I felt so guilty, because once upon a time I did whatever I felt and then I learnt that being so intelligent, and open about my feelings and my life was unsensible to people, and then I learnt (justly so I think) that I shoudn’t act without thinking about others. 

But I feel somewhere in the way, I started feeling guilty of being myself. I learnt I’m too much for people. Now I over-analyze every interaction I have; have i overshared anything? Did i let the other talk and express themselves? I do it before taking charge in a group assignment or outing bcs I internalised that they don’t want it, that I’m being annoying reminding them of the tasks or the things we should be doing. 

You need to sweet-talk people, and I’m bad at it and although sometimes it can be funny most often is just plain tiring. And I’m the first surprised when someone is direct about anything. I like so much, so much learning about things, I feel deep inside the correct way of approaching problems should be to consider them from every angle, analyze the facts and the feelings they provoke and then come up with a good solution; I write and I want to investigate everything before starting any story but I’m completely unable to do so. Same with my studies, same with people. 

And then I wing it and it results so much better and it’s frustrating. People say: you’re so good at this, you must study/dedicate so much time to it. And I just do enough to get an intuitive understanding of the concept and then improvise, and I feel like a fake. 

When I have time and I’m methodical, it’s satisfying (better for memorising and studying languages too) but the truth is that I function better when I hit the ground running. I think this society doesn’t like lion secondaries very much unless you’re a shit man. Then is suddenly comprehensible if not appreciated. So I picked a faulty model bird because it’s useful, right? And i like it from time to time.

But I feel like the idea people have of me, about how I act is all bird and it’s stiffling but I let myself go and don’t act in my feels or my thougths because there no reason at all to be myself and I watch myself writing this and wow. Suddenly my mother is telling me why am i not as outgoing as when i was young or my new friends are surprised because my personality changes. Like an onion: outwardly I don’t care about anything, then you discover I’m very intense about lots of things but very nonchalantly (I left clues and you have to pick them, bcs I’m not verbalising you know?), then you never know what I feel about those things except for whatever observation you’ve made. You just know the loudness. My mother tells me I never talk to her about myself, but still she knows how to pick what I feel about people and situations bcs I’m that obvious I guess.

But she was who taught me to think twice bcs nobody wants to feel stupid or wronged (neither do I, I understand). My father never liked who I was; why wasnt I more social, more normal, why did I have to be so strange so openly. (It’s mostly I’m half-sure I fall somewhere in the lower gifted range + maybe some neurodivergence, but in my country they don’t adapt nor care for above average students and a test sounds ridiculous and attention seeking and too expensive when I do fine right now.) 

Can’t deny the lion, but I never talk. Except on internet anonymously. Bcs contradictions are funny and you’re really kind. Again, about the start of this megapost. It was so surprising when you saw directly through that ask to the secondary, that I teared up. Yes, yes, that’s who I am why hasn’t anybody told me it’s ok to be sincere and direct? Why?

I was toying with bird and snake but those are covers. Trying to perform snake when I’m uncomfortable or I haven’t got familiarity with the people and bcs it’s improvising it’s easier, and model bird when I can with all knowledge I don’t even notice I have aquired reading what amounts to tons of wish-fulfilling fantasies. Like. It’s posible to burn a secondary? Bcs I think that’s what’s happened to me. And I’m trying little by little to recover that trust in my actions because I know I’m better that way, that I feel good being direct about things but I’m so afraid of others… Perseverance though!!! 

This sorting system has helped me see that, more than astrology. Mostly, these last years i had a wrong feeling about myself. I think this helped articulate why. This so maudlin omg xD But you received well my semi-creepy murderous self-isolating primary post so. Sorry again, and thank you.

PS: love to anybody who has ever felt like me. Also, mom is def a badger primary, now that i think about it. She really, really likes working with people, meeting with friends, helping them etc. ended up teaching yoga. She is super direct too, so maybe we share the secondary... which is rich, but also why I think she is also strict that sense. Thinking she doesn't want to see me suffering like her + why i frustrate her when i retreat into myself too. good old projection. THE END XD

My dear Lion ~ 

You sound like me. And yes, you will be “too much” for some people. But I promise you. There will be others who love you for exactly that intensity. Putting masses of planning and up-front effort into something doesn’t make the end result any better. I’m a badger secondary, that was a tough realization to have. And it’s okay to be afraid. But you seem on top of this. You’re going to be okay. 

(also, your English is fantastic. Really, really nice use of the word “maudlin.”) 

Good hunting ~ WL

[sykilik101]

Convey

“On second thought, Ash, maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

“Misty, I’m already carrying you, there’s no reason to put you down.”

“But my ankle isn’t hurt that bad, and I-”

“Misty, just be quiet.”

He always does this. Ash Ketchum, ever the friend, ever the hero. It was hard to tell if his heroism was a gift from destiny, or if it was why fate had chosen him to save the world over and over again. I don’t think Ash would have much of a response if someone asked him about it.

Today was supposed to follow the same old routine: Team Rocket digs a hole, our group falls into the hole, Pikachu almost gets stolen, and minutes later Team Rocket is blasting off again. Lather, rinse, repeat, every day without fail. Normally by this point we’d be making our way towards whatever town or landmark we were heading for, but normally I don’t have a sprained ankle from falling into the trap.

Team Rocket’s usually so good about making relatively safe holes, too.

Brock went on ahead to alert Nurse Joy at the nearby Pokémon Center that we were coming. Our original destination was still a day away, and I was in no mood to camp out with an injury. Potentially having to wake up and start running because of some random emergency would end disastrously. That’s not to say Ash wouldn’t have gone out of his way to carry me, just like he was doing now.

Ever the friend, ever the hero.

“I’m not too heavy, am I?”

“Trust me, if you were, I’d tell you.”

“You better not be lying.”

I felt the gentle vibration of Ash’s chuckle against his back. “Misty, believe me, you’re not. See?”

At this he took a firmer hold on my thighs, hefting me up the smallest bit before relaxing back into the hold. My heart hammered in my chest at the touch and I smacked him on the shoulder. “Ash, don’t do that, you’ll drop me!”

That same easy-going laugh returned. “I promise I won’t.”

His words were oddly relaxed for someone transporting their injured friend three miles through a forest to a Pokémon Center. To his credit he didn’t seem like he was struggling to hold me or walk along the dirt path, even after he’d exerted himself in the battle to get Pikachu back. Speaking of the battle...

“I hope Pikachu will be alright.”

Ash’s grip briefly tightened again. “He’ll be fine. Brock gave him a potion, and Pikachu is used to battling Team Rocket whenever they try to kidnap him. A few Tackles are nothing he can’t handle.”

“I guess you’re right,” I replied. Ash nodded wordlessly, leaving the conversation to fizzle out. Truth be told, it was a few Tackles on top of a Poison Sting from Arbok. We didn’t have any antidotes left, so Brock had rushed away with Pikachu after giving him the potion. I fully expected Ash to be the one to take him, but his logic was that someone had to stay back and help me, and he trusted Brock to get there the fastest without getting lost. I could only hope that didn’t mean we’d be the ones wandering aimlessly through the trees.

With any luck, Brock would get there quickly enough to get help. The sun was starting to set, and though the path was pretty easy to follow, it wouldn’t be the first time our group - Ash, specifically - had made one tiny wrong turn in the dark and gotten lost. Even so, I trusted Brock, and I knew Ash did, too. His silence was probably his concern mixed with him trying to seem composed so that I wouldn’t worry.

Leave it to Ash to know the right moment to be sweet.

I gripped his shoulders a little tighter, recalling the way my heart had jolted when he’d squeezed my thighs. Recently, Ash had been doing things that would randomly form knots in my stomach; it would be a smile, or something he’d say, or even the blazing look in his eyes when we’d argue. That fire that always burned me in the moment now left me warm in the aftermath. Even the way he called my name made my pulse pick up its pace.

Over the years a lot of people have teased Ash and I about liking each other. I’d always denied it because, I mean, it wasn’t true. Ash has a lot of really good qualities, despite being stubborn and immature, but I never really thought about dating him. It just sounds...weird. He’s my friend, someone I travel with. He still owes me a bike, after all.

But lately, the tousled way his hair looks without his hat seems more endearing than sloppy. When he’s in a battle, I sometimes have to remind myself to focus on the Pokémon instead of the determination and focus on his face. It’s always sweet the way he asks Pikachu if he’s ready for bed at night, but the look he gives Pikachu before they close their eyes is filled with a care and love that I’d never given Ash credit for. I wonder what it would be like if Ash looked at me that way.

I shook my head, clearing that thought out of my mind. This is the same Ash who’d rather go on a Pokémon catching spree than on a date. He’d never shown any real interest in the opposite gender; that was usually Brock’s job. I had a better chance of catching a Mew than becoming the object of his affections. Even if he happened to like me, it’s not like he would have any idea how to win me over. The mental image of Ash trying to be suave and charming made me giggle, though I tried not to be too obvious about it.

Ash quietly chuckled below me, and I worried for a second that maybe he’d somehow read my mind. “What is it, Ash?”

“I was just thinking, I bet after Brock makes sure Pikachu is okay, the first thing he’ll do is try to be all cute with Nurse Joy.”

This giggle I don’t keep to myself. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll try something. Although, if it hasn’t worked on any other Nurse Joy, I doubt it’ll work on this one.”

“That sounds about right,” he replied jovially, making another arm adjustment that sent a flush to my face. Being carried by him shouldn’t get me this riled up, but defying the impossible was the Ash Ketchum specialty. “But y’know…”

“Hm?”

“Do you think, maybe, it might work if he tried doing that with one girl?”

I cocked my head, intrigued at the sudden direction this conversation was taking. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Ash took a breath, and I don’t know if he realized that his fingers pushed further into my legs, “Brock tries to be all romantic with almost every girl he meets, and it never works, right? I was wondering if being nice and talking sweet like he does would work if he only did it with one girl.”

I hadn’t thought Ash would give this topic any kind of consideration, but his curiosity piqued my own. “I don’t know about Brock’s methods, but what girl wouldn’t like a guy who keeps trying to show her that he likes her?”

“Would that work if most girls haven’t really liked how he’s acted?”

I pressed a finger to my head, knowing what I wanted to say but needing a second to articulate it. “Well, if the girl actually liked Brock, it would probably be pretty easy, I guess.”

“You think so?”

“Sure,” I replied, moving my hand back onto his shoulder. “After all, if Brock acting the way he does is why she likes him, then all he has to do is keep acting that way and she’ll keep falling for him.”

Ash hummed to himself before going quiet again. I’d expected the conversation to go on a bit longer before reminding myself that the topic was romance, something Ash hadn’t really tried before. Still, it was something, and the idea of Ash contemplating love in some capacity beyond just being a distraction, or something that he had no interest in, formed bubbles in my stomach. Maybe it wouldn’t be the last time he and I-

...wait, what had I said just now?

If Brock continues to act like a goofball in front of girls, and a girl likes him for that, she’ll keep liking him as long as he keeps being himself. It makes sense, after all. You like someone because of who they are, so as long as they don’t change a lot, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t keep liking them, or even start falling harder for them.

Does that mean I’ll keep falling for Ash?

...wait, keep? Since when did I even decide I’d fallen for him in the first place?

“Is your ankle okay?”

I snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of his voice, taking note of how my leg was feeling. “It hurts a little, but I’m fine.” Why is my voice suddenly shaky? It shouldn’t be shaky around Ash! “You should hurry it up, though, it’s getting cold!”

Rather than answer me, he looked around the path, though for what I had no idea. Whatever it was, however, he clearly didn’t find it as he gently shook his head. He waltzed over to the side of the dirt, next to a tree. “Can I put you down for a second?”

“Huh? Sure.”

He eased me down onto my feet, or rather, foot, as I was quickly reminded that my ankle was in no condition to support me. Leaning against the tree I watched him take his jacket off before handing it over. “Here, put this on.”

I was no stranger to Ash being a gentleman, but the look in his eyes as he held the jacket to me made my throat feel three times smaller. “Ash...but then you’ll be cold.”

“Nah, carrying you has been keeping me warm, so I’ll be fine.”

I would have argued more if I wasn’t using a tree to balance myself on my one good ankle and in need of a bed as soon as possible. Standing on one foot I started working one hand through the sleeve when I felt my balance giving way. Before gravity pulled me to the ground Ash took a hold of my waist. For reasons I’d never understood his hands were perpetually warm, even through his gloves.

“It’s probably hard to put it on while trying to stand on one leg, huh? Let me keep you steady.”

A suffocating heat rose through my neck and into my cheeks. I could only nod as I finished putting his jacket on, my mind screaming “His hands are on your waist!” over and over again. His residual scent clung to the cloth and it only fueled the tiny inferno burning away in my head.

“Are you feeling any warmer now?”

“Yes! Yes, I mean, yeah, thanks.”

His head cocked to the side in confusion, and if I was being honest, I couldn’t blame him. Even I didn’t know where this was all coming from. In all the times where I’d thought about liking Ash, it had never gotten this bad before. Most of my musings were just speculation about the idea without actually feeling anything in particular. Suddenly all those romance movies I’d seen where the main characters went crazy were starting to make sense.

Ash apparently lost interest in my confusion, mercifully releasing his hold on my waist and kneeling with his back to me. “Come on, let’s get going before it gets too dark.”

My leg refused to move as I was drawn to his back in a way I hadn’t been when he first offered to carry me. His was a back that had shouldered all his hopes and the weight of the world on numerous occasions. Now it would be what ferried me to safety, and though I probably didn’t compare to his aspirations or the world in his eyes, the idea still made my heart flutter.

I don’t know how long I stared, but Ash turned to me, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “Misty, I promised I wouldn’t let you go, remember? You don’t gotta be scared.”

It wasn’t the words or even knowing how sincere they were that did it. It was the way he spoke, the spark in his eyes. Ash was the embodiment of lightning, from the way Pikachu was his first Pokémon to the bolts across his cheeks. He was white-hot energy and flashes of static that made my hairs stand on end. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Ash was a being of electricity.

And I, a being of water, was made to conduct electricity.

I hobbled over, allowing him to wrap his arms around my thighs once more as he hoisted me up.

“There you go.”

I wasn’t even sure I was supposed to hear that, especially since his voice was barely above a whisper. He made one more adjustment with his hands before he seemed satisfied. Maybe, to him, I belonged here. Not exactly like this, but close by, within arm’s reach. Maybe he was comfortable having me here, where he could protect me when I needed him. Just maybe, I feel the same. Or, maybe this is all just my imagination and something else entirely unrelated is causing these palpitations in my chest.

I needed to know. I wanted to be certain.

I leaned against him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and letting my chin rest in the crook of his neck. My hands settled on his chest, and I don’t know why I was surprised at how fast his heart was beating. He’d been carrying me for nearly a half hour now, so of course he’d probably be a little tired. My own heartbeat matched his and I wondered if he could feel it.

“Misty? Are you okay?”

I nodded, enjoying a new elation at the way his cheek grazed mine as he spoke. “This is warmer.”

He was wordless for a moment before I felt him nod. “Yeah, it is.”

This was too close, too intimate; there was no way I could write this feeling off as panic from being lost or a pain-induced illusion. And yet, it was also stupidly unfair. This was Ash. He and romance don’t mix. The odds of him somehow deciding I was a girl he wanted to be affectionate and loving towards were slim to none. Still...I nuzzled my face closer into the side of his neck. If Ash could believe in becoming a Pokémon Master without losing faith in himself, then I could believe in him eventually feeling for me what I now feel for him.

I didn’t compare to his aspirations or the world, but maybe Ash could find some space on his back for one more dream.

“Ash?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t let me down, okay?”

Being so close, I heard him hum confidently. “I won’t.”

Ash Ketchum, ever my friend, ever my hero.

xxxxx

Fun little fact in case you didn't catch it: In this story, Ash already has a crush on Misty. Reread it knowing that and see if you can spot Ash's motivations for some of the things he says/does. :P

This fic was inspired by the artwork shown in this tweet. I do have permission to post it here, so be sure to go show her some love for this art!

It’s been a while since I’ve written a first person POV story, and I don’t recall that I’ve written a story where Misty had yet to realize her feelings for him. Combine that with this artwork that I found, and, well, sudden inspiration. Hope you all enjoyed it.

[aeide-thea]

i’m too tired to actually make this post in an articulate way but i sure am having an upsurge of impostor angst lately about, like, maybe all my gender feelings are bullshit, maybe i just gotta accept that i’m a woman after all despite all the ways that concept chafes [also at first i typed ‘a woman who hates their’ and then was like ‘…hm i sure do seem to have failed that pronoun check lmao’ but also couldn’t bear to fix it so decided maybe rewording was the way to go]

which like, is partially about how i went to the grocery store today with Baby Sister while sporting an extremely butch outfit (men’s jean jacket open over men’s sweatshirt, men’s straight-leg jeans, red wings, hair… well, as you saw) and we still got ‘ladies’-ed by someone, why the fuck can i not escape this, does anything about my presentation say ‘this is a person who wants to be called a lady’????

and is partially about how i’ve been feeling pretty intensely and largely exclusively [look, adverbs were 2-for-1 at the store] attracted to men lately, or, well, one man anyway, and of course that isn’t an exclusively ~female~ activity, of course i know and believe that, but… at the same time most of my fellow fangirls are just that, and the nature of the discourse has tended to feel very Women 4 Dudez, and at a certain point it’s just like, god, i’m misgendering myself by osmosis here, because my instinct is always to align align align myself with the people around me…

and is partially probably also that i’m stuck in birthname childrole confinement rn, although of course that’s been true for years, but it’s 24/7 inescapable now

and is partially about how binding really isn’t that comfy but is the only method of body-alteration in my repertoire, so if i’m not always choosing to do that, because i’ve got enough weird lil stabby pains without taking more of them on voluntarily, then what does that say about the ~seriousness of my commitment~ or what the fuck ever

and probably also about other stuff i’m forgetting

and i just—obviously these are all such hothouse shut-in concerns, obviously also even if i were “really” a woman i’d be allowed to dress unfemininely and ask my friends [largely an imaginary set of people lol but i do like to imagine i can count some of you guys as that, at least] to use particular language for me and whatnot so in a sense it almost doesn’t matter what i “really am,” i know

and like, thinking this way hurts me whereas thinking of myself as agender/nb/variably but not negligibly transmasc/gq/etc feels much more freeing/pleasurable/instinctively correct (except of course insofar as it requires so much pushing at people constantly to create any space at all in which to be those things), and probably leaning into gender euphoria is its own justification, really

but i really am having a hard time lately with feeling like, i feel as though i’m (gender)queer, and being those things is really important to me, but i don’t quite see how on paper i can justify that feeling, given the material reality of my body and dominant attraction pattern lately… sure looks like i’m just a mostly-straight-right-now technically-woman who wants to feel special!

which is of course a line of thinking the existing system is very invested in encouraging in me, that like, straight and cis are the default and anything that isn’t definitively not-those probably is those, really

but i sure feel like a great honking hideous faker, you know?

anyway apologies for this extremely long and extremely boring post, i can only say that inhabiting this set of feelings on an ongoing basis is even more tiresome than reading one (1) post about it, so like, i do sympathize, i promise i’m bored of me too

[goddessofthundathighs]

IX. PHILOPHOBIA

Suggested Listening/Songs Mentioned: Tadow x Masego; Body Party x Ciara

Word Count: 7.1K (Grab a snack, kids)

**************

Philophobia: (n). the fear of love or of becoming emotionally connected with another person

In the days following their confessions session, O’Shea and Erik finally committed to having a regular schedule that was conducive to both her therapy and their personal needs.

Mondays were used to discuss the previous week’s activities, whether or not they were successful, and to plan out new activities for the upcoming week. Those activities would then be implemented on Tuesday while Wednesday was a quiet day.

During the quiet day, Erik would see other patients, if any, or meet with Skylar to discuss upcoming research projects. Thursdays were used for mid-week check-ins. O’Shea would contact Erik if she wasn’t feeling like herself or if she felt like the particular week’s activity was a failure. They alternated Friday and Saturdays for personal time outside of the office. During this time, they would go on movie or dinner dates or just chill at each other’s houses, cuddling or playing video games.

Their relationship was flourishing at a healthy rate and while excited for her best friend, Skylar couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy.

Erik watched her intensely as she paced the floor of his office, convinced that she was about to create a completely new design.

“Are you gonna talk to me or are you gonna put a hole in my floor?”

She stopped and faced him, her eyes riddled with conflict.

“I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a bitter bitch,” she said, finally taking a seat in the chair across from him. It was Friday so she was dressed down in a black tank that read “Thug Life” in white Old English writing, camouflage cargo pants, and black gladiator sandals. Her curly mane haloed her face and big, gold bamboo earrings with her name in the middle adorned her ears.

“Girl stop all that and tell me what’s wrong so I can help fix it,” Erik fussed, coming around to sit on the corner of his desk in front of her.

“Well, I know I was the main one that wanted you two together, but now that it’s happening, I guess I’m a bit jealous. Not because you both are finally happy and in a healthy space to pursue a relationship, but because I want the same thing and right now. It’s hard.”

“Elaborate,” Erik said, removing his glasses so that their eyes met.

Sky sighed heavily before continuing, “Lately, I’ve found myself missing Monica. I mean, yeah, our relationship was toxic 80% of the time, but things were good when we were on good terms. She showered me with love and adoration and she was someone that I could call mine, even if it was only for a limited time. Occasional hookups are cool, but I miss being in love and the thought of pursuing something of that nature with Oya has me TERRIFIED,” she stomped, pushing his pen from the desk so that it rolled onto the floor.

“For the last time, would you calm down?” Erik’s voice was stern yet soft as he stared into her big doe eyes.

“I can’t help it, E,” she confessed looking up at him. “It’s quite obvious that Oya is interested, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go back down that road again. Not to mention, she wants a full-on domme/sub relationship. Monica and I only did a few scenes during our time together. I’m nobody’s domme.”

“You are,” he said frankly. “Your dick is bigger than mine most of the time, you just don’t seem to realize it. What are you afraid of?”

“Losing my license.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

Skylar furrowed her brows, shooting him a glare that made him square his shoulders and glare right back.

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are; your bottom lip is trembling. Just say you’re afraid of giving your all to someone only to get your heart broken again.”

Sky hung her head in defeat. Erik was right and she knew it, but the truth wasn’t what she wanted to hear at the moment.

“This is just so unprofessional. I pride myself on not getting attached to my clients and here I am considering a relationship with this girl.” She sighed again, rubbing her temples as she felt the beginning symptoms of a migraine building.

Erik carefully took her chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting her head so that her eyes met his.

“I understand your apprehension, but you’ve gotta understand that everybody ain’t Monica.”

“I know, but that’s something I’m not ready to deal with yet. When she comes by the office, I’ll propose some things she can implement with her current partners before offering myself up.”

“Good luck with that, but if she’s as straightforward as you say she is, she’s only gonna tell you that nothing worked with her other partners just so she can have you. That’s how brats operate Dr. Greene. I should know; I’m an expert,” he replied with a sly smirk that made Sky chuckle before she could catch herself.

“You’re so fucking arrogant,” she frowned pushing his face away from hers.

“I’m not arrogant, I’m confident there’s a difference. Plus, it made you laugh so my job as Best Friend of the Year is done.”

“I swear you get on my nerves but thank you. This talk was much needed and it’s helped put some things into perspective. I’m gonna go work on a therapy plan for Ms. Ramirez.”

“Aight, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Sky replied with a warm hug before walking out of his office and out to her car. As if on cue, her phone rang and Oya’s picture came into view. It was a candid taken when Oya wasn't paying her any mind.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Ramirez.”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Greene,” Oya’s voice called back in a soft and seductive tone. “I was wondering if I could drop by your office, I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

Skylar swallowed thickly before replying, “Yes, I have an open slot for 1:00. Does that work for you?”

“Oh yes, that’s perfect. I’ll see you then.”

**

“Welcome to Kinky Sky Sex Therapy and Toy Emporium,” O’Shea called to the stranger when the bell of the shop dinged.

Oya paused, thinking to herself how much of a mouthful that was before her mind thought of how much she’d like a mouthful of --

“Hello again. O’Shea, right?” Oya replied to the slender beauty behind the counter.

“Yes, and you’re Oya, right?” Oya nodded with a smile. “Nice to meet you again."

"I had a 1:00 appointment with Dr. Greene, is she here?”

“She is. If you walk back to that last shelf of toys, you’ll notice a staircase. Take those down to the basement and you’ll see her.”

“The basement?” Oya replied, more than a little apprehensive.

“I know it sounds creepy, but it’s not as bad as you think. I promise,” Shea said reassuringly.

Oya nodded before walking through the long shelves of toys and lubricants until she reached the top of the white slate staircase. What she thought would be a dark, terrifyingly creepy sight was the opposite.

The walls were painted white with black and pink accents and the floors were grey slatewood. The northern wall held the security setup while the wall behind the desk held a bookshelf and all of Skylar’s degrees. Skylar’s desk sat in the middle of the space. It was a glass top with gold legs and sat atop a white fur rug with matching fur chair with gold legs in front. Skylar was seated behind the desk typing at her iMac, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Dr. Greene?”

Skylar jumped, causing a pen to roll off her desk as her eyes met Oya’s.

“Oh, hi Oya. I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s fine, I just made it down here. Que bueno!”

Oya looked around at the office briefly on her way to take a seat in front of Sky’s desk, shamelessly staring at the S necklace that rested in her cleavage.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Sky asked, closing the document she’d been working on.

“Well, I tried one of the methods you suggested when I went out with my sister the other night. The vabbing technique.”

“Oh?” Skylar asked, grabbing a pen from the cup on her desk. “And how did it go?”

“Pretty well actually. I met a girl and we hooked up and it was cool I guess, but...”

“But?”

“I may have accidentally moaned your name during sex.”

“Wait… You did what now?”

Oya merely smirked, unable to hide the way Skylar’s reaction was making her feel.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t stop thinking about you. Everything that she was doing to me made me wish it were you, so much so that I called her by your name. Like we were making out and things were getting heated and next thing I know instead of saying Celeste, I said Skylar.”

Skylar blinked for a few seconds before finally finding words to articulate her feelings.

“Oya, I’m your therapist. That’s extremely inappropriate.”

“Is it really? They're both sky-related names... Well, what about Surrogate Partner Therapy? Didn’t you receive funding to start experimenting with it?”

“Yes but--”

“So why don’t you let me be your first case.”

Skylar sighed in exasperation. If Oya was Erik, she would’ve cussed him out seeing as how he knew how much of a pet peeve it was for her to be interrupted. She instead chose to remain silent, intrigued to hear Oya’s point of view.

“Oya, it doesn’t work that way. SPT requires the use of someone else as the surrogate partner, not the therapist assigned to the client.”

“But what about Dr. Stevens? I could go back to being his client and he could start the process. It could be a joint project between the two of you.”

“You’ve really thought this out, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll speak with Dr. Stevens and we’ll get back to you.”

Oya leaned over the desk, tucking a stray curl behind Skylar’s ear.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, Dr. Greene.”

**

“Damn, lil mama was prepared, huh?”

Erik asked as he finished the last bite of his volcano sushi rolls with extra eel sauce that he was currently addicted to thanks to his favorite brat. His feet were propped up on his desk and he was reclined back in his office chair staring down into the iPad screen as Sky stared back.

“Bruh, I was shook. I’m sure she saw it on my face too. Like, I’m not used to anyone being this straightforward with me other than you. It’s different,” she said, speaking a mile per minute.

“So… the real question is what do you wanna do, doctor?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for a week and I’m still drawing a blank.”

It was true. Skylar had gone over every possible scenario of a relationship with Oya and each time she was met with a standstill. Half of her wanted to pursue a relationship to see how things would work, while the other half was still stuck on the board finding out and losing her license. Erik hated the pained look in her eyes. He could feel her heart as if it were in his own chest.

“You mean you’re too pussy to live life? Come on, Sky. Yes, losing your license is serious, but what are the odds of that really happening? We’re both extremely careful and go through the details of our reports with fine-toothed combs. On paper, everything looks legit and aside from our personal relationship, O’Shea is doing well, is she not?”

“She is.”

“Alright then, live a little. Let babygirl bring some spice into your boring ass, lonely ass life. Invite her to lunch and eat her pussy under the table.”

“Wow, fuck you,” Sky replied, watching as he started on a truffle salmon roll. “I haven’t done that since O’Shea. Besides, I’m a Louisiana native. I’m spicy enough.”

“I can’t tell with ya boring ass,” he teased, popping the rest of the roll into his mouth.

“Those look good, bring me some.”

“Nigga! It’s lunchtime in LA and your office is 15 minutes away. It’s gonna take me an hour to get to you.”

“O’Shea’s wearing those green leather pants you like,” Sky sang sweetly, smirking at the way he readjusted his slacks as he sat up.”

“I’m on my way,” was all he said before the FaceTime ended. Skylar chuckled softly before pulling up Oya’s contact information.

Though he was incredibly annoying, she knew Erik was right. She had been overthinking the entire situation and needed to let things flow. If for some reason things went sour and she lost her license, she still had a successful adult toy business and more than enough money saved up to live comfortably for the rest of her life if she chose to.

Taking a deep breath she pressed the call button and allowed the rest of her inhibitions to fly out of the window.

“Hello?” Oya’s sultry voice rang from the opposite end of the receiver.

“Oya, it’s Dr. Greene. I was wondering if we could meet for lunch, there are some things I wanted to discuss in regards to your request for Surrogate Partner Therapy.” Skylar smiled softly as Oya’s audible gasp tickled her ears.

“That would be great, but my schedule is pretty full today with dance classes. How about tomorrow for dinner?”

Dinner? Skylar hadn’t been on an actual dinner date in over a year, too far consumed with work to entertain anyone longer than a few quick hookups. The thought of getting all dolled up and having a night on the town with a beautiful woman on her arm made her smile incredibly wide.

“I could do dinner. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?” She asked, rubbing her chin as Erik’s explicit suggestion crossed her mind. The smile in Oya’s tone was infectious.

“Have you ever had Barton G.?”

**

“Do a spin and let us see you,” Erik’s voice called from Skylar’s iPad that sat next to her vanity mirror.

For the last hour, she’d been modeling outfits for him and O’Shea, searching for the perfect show-stopping ensemble for dinner with Oya. When she finally completed the 360 turn, they both seemed to be enamored with the lavender two-piece skirt set she’d picked. She’d straightened her usually curly locs and chose to wear a matching duster and clear chunky heels to complete the look. Though she’d decided against a full face of makeup, she still filled in her brows, applied some mascara to her lashes and her favorite nude lipstick to her full lips.

“That’s the one,” O’Shea said with finality.

“I second that notion,” Erik nodded, causing Skylar to break into a wide grin. She was excited to see how the night would play out and even more excited to see where her relationship with Oya would stand after dinner.

“Alright, I’ll call you two with an update when I make it home tonight.”

“Don’t go home, get some pussy,” Erik called, pulling the perfectly pearled blunt from behind his ear.

“Bye Nigga!”

Across town, Oya stood in her floor-length mirror admiring the denim colored two-piece skirt set she wore. Her hair was slicked into a low bun around her neck rested a silver statement necklace. The top stopped just below her breasts and the draped skirt stopped just above her left knee creating a high-low illusion. Her freshly shaved legs peeked from the split in the center and silver strappy heels rested on her feet. Her makeup was neutral, simple lashes and a nude lip completing the overall look. She knew she looked good and was determined to have Skylar eating out the palm of her hands… and maybe her vagina by the end of dinner.

After one final once over, Oya was out the door and on her way to meet the future love of her life. The drive to Barton G was short and soon the two women were face to face, both in awe of the other’s outfit choice.

“You look stunning,” Oya called as she admired the way the lavender skirt clung to Sky’s hips and thighs.

“As do you,” Sky replied with a sweet smile. “I went ahead and put our names on the waitlist so it shouldn’t be much longer before our table is ready.”

“Perfect,” Oya replied, taking the empty seat beside her. As she took in Sky’s appearance again, the bag in her lap attracted her attention. It was lilac with an iridescent crocodile pattern and gold hardware.

“Is that a Hermès Birkin bag?”

“Yes ma’am. It was my first big purchase after I opened my shop and I adore it.”

“Of course you’re a label whore,” Oya replied with a playful smirk.

Sky rolled her eyes, returning Oya’s smile.

“Whatever. Excuse me for enjoying the finer things in life. I worked my ass off to get my shop and when the time came, I chose to treat myself to something nice.”

“Pretty expensive treat,” Oya mumbled.

“It’s true. I am indeed,” Sky retorted with a wide grin.

“Greene, party of 2,” the hostess called pulling Skylar and Oya from their heated conversation about designer fashion.

“I’m sorry, there’s just no way I’d spent $20-$40K on a bag,” Oya fussed, following the hostess to their designated table.

“But they’re beautiful bags, plus they increase in value 15% every year. It’s an investment if anything,” Sky reasoned.

“Be that as it may, I’m not dropping that kind of cash on a bag and I’ll be damned if my partner does.”

“To each her own, I guess,” Skylar shrugged. “But if I buy it, you’re gonna accept it.”

“Says who?” Oya countered with a raised eyebrow.

Skylar took the bait smoothly as she pulled Oya’s chair out, motioning for her to sit down.

“Ya Mama,” she replied with a wink causing Oya to flash her a devilish grin.

“I see you’re not playing fair tonight, Dr. Greene.”

“How is answering a question proposed to me not playing fair?”

“You know how. Don’t throw around such titles if you aren’t prepared to fulfill them,” Oya challenged.

“You’re absolutely right which brings me to why I wanted to meet with you. After speaking with Dr. Stevens, we both think that you’d be a good candidate for our SPT research. On paper, he will be your assigned therapist and I will be your surrogate partner.”

Sky glanced up to catch Oya watching her intensely as she explained.

“I will also be implementing Dr. Stevens’ 7-Day schedule which will be used to aid in both your therapy as well as personal needs. Out of the seven days, two of them will be quiet days in which we have zero communication with one another and you do not have to engage in whatever treatment method we have assigned for that week.”

Another glance up, and Oya’s stare was still just as intense as before.

“If this method looks to be successful, then I’ll start implementing more extracurricular activities in our time together, Is this something that you think you would be interested in?”

Oya’s grin grew wide at the thought of the introduction of BDSM elements. She was also pleased with the fact that Skylar had put so much thought into her treatment.

“I’m in, but on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You spend the next two days with me, bonding, completely off the record. I want to see you in your natural state, and in these two days if you decide that a personal relationship isn’t what you want, then we’ll remain completely professional and well leave the extracurricular activities off the table.”

Skylar flinched, clearly taken aback by Oya’s change in tone.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I want you to be completely comfortable with whatever this turns into and I don’t want you to feel forced simply because of how strong I came on to you. At the end of the day, you’re a doctor and you have a reputation to uphold and I don’t want you to lose what you built because of me.”

“T-That’s really sweet, Oya. No one has taken my feelings into consideration like that before other than Erik.”

“Listen, I know that Monica chick did a number on you emotionally, but all I’m asking for is just one chance to prove that I’m in a different class.”

“Fine, you can have your two days, but after that it’s back to business,” Sky said, attempting to regain her usual tough demeanor.

Oya caught on and smiled a sly smile.

“Yes Mama,” she said as the waitress came to take their orders.

The pair spent the remainder of dinner talking like old friends. Skylar learned that Oya was the youngest of four children and that all of her siblings were dancers and choreographers. Sky spoke of her fathers and how she and Erik came to become as successful as they were.

“So you don’t know your mom at all?” Oya asked, taking a sip of her Sabrina-tini.

“She died while giving birth to me. Papa Simon raised me by himself until I was two. That’s when Papa Ruben came along and the rest was history.”

“Did your parents influence your sexual preference?”

“Actually, no. I’ve had relationships with men in the past, but Erik was the one that made me realize that I wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship with a man. Then I met Monica and the rollercoaster began.”

“She was your first girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you guys break up if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Long story short, she was a seasonal gay and I got tired of being her escape.”

Oya nodded, having dealt with her share of toxic exes in the past.

“Well,” Oya said, raising her glass. “Here’s to new beginnings and lots of healing. May our days going forward be filled with joy and smiles and only tears of pure, unadulterated happiness.”

“Cheers,” Skylar said with a bright smile, unable to hide her excitement for what was to come.

**

“Pole dancing, huh? Kinky,” O’Shea said teasingly as she and Sky explored the extensive shoe closet on the second floor of Skylar’s condo. Oya had proposed the idea during their dinner the previous night, opting to do it on Sunday since her studio would be closed to her students.

“It’ll be fun, just you and I vibing to some dope music. I just may teach you a thing or two.”

Oya’s teasing tone was loud in Skylar’s ear as she combed through another wall of shoes. Oya had instructed her to bring a pair of heels because she would be getting on a pole, a statement that had Sky turning her nose up slightly.

“If my thick ass fall, I’m fighting her,” Sky fussed, holding up a pair of black, strappy Louboutins.

“And I’m gonna fight you if you think you wearing Louboutins to a pole dancing class. This is real life, not the movies. Besides, you need something with a platform to help maintain your balance,” O’Shea said, grabbing a pair of clear 6-inch heels with a pink sole and iridescent glitter platform bottoms. “These are perfect! Try them on!”

Sky grabbed the shoes from her and put them on, towering over Shea as she strutted back and forth in the closet.

“Great, now I just have to figure out what I’m wearing,” Sky replied staring at herself in the mirror. She was currently wearing a baby pink cross-back bralette and matching leggings.

“That looks good. Pole dancing is exercise, after all, so you want to be comfortable.”

Sky thought for a bit before nodding in agreeance.

“Alright, well let me get going. We agreed to meet at 4.”

“Alright, be safe and have fun!” O’Shea called, following Sky outside.

After sending a quick confirmation text, Skylar punched the address of the studio into her GPS and made her way downtown.

The studio was dimly lit with pink and purple lights. The front wall of the studio held five floor-length mirrors while the back wall was painted burnt orange. In all, ten poles stretched across the entire floor in two lines and two speakers occupied the upper corners above the mirrors.

“Right on time,” Oya’s voice called from somewhere above Sky’s head.

She craned her neck to see Oya swinging from an aerial hoop. She moved so gracefully and elegantly, each movement flowing in incredible precision. It looked so easy, but Sky knew better than to think such. She smiled as Oya carefully lowered herself to the floor and padded over to her, greeting her with a gentle hug.

“I’m so glad you agreed to this class. We’re gonna have so much fun,” Oya said with a bright smile. She led Sky to a spot in the back where she could put her bag down and change shoes before pulling her to the center of the room between the two rows of poles.

“First, we’re going to do some stretches. We need your body as loose and limber as possible that way you don’t hurt yourself while on the pole.” Sky made a face before joining Oya on the floor.

“I told O’Shea we were gonna fight if I fall off one of these poles,” Sky said with a chuckle before spreading her legs in a wide v shape, lowering her upper half to the floor.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Dr. Greene,” Oya replied with a smirk before copying Sky’s pose.

Sky bit her lip to contain her smile at the way Oya enunciated her name before speaking.

“This is off the record and we’re out of the office so you can just call me Sky or Skylar.”

“I prefer Sunshine if we’re being honest,” Oya said with a sweet smile that Sky couldn’t help but return.

“Okay, Sunshine it is.”

After they were all stretched out and warmed up, Oya began the lesson.

“The first thing we’re going to learn is a basic spin. The easiest one to do is the fireman spin, kinda like we used to do on the playground. I’ll demonstrate first and then explain it in detail.”

“I know how to do that,” Sky remarked with a sneer as she watched Oya spin around the bottom of the pole.

“Alright, then missy. Let’s see you do it,” Oya urged, clapping teasingly as Sky completed the spin.

“Okay, let’s do something a little more complicated. This next move is called the chair spin. It’s just like the fireman, but as you’re going around, I want you to lift your knees towards your chest and keep your feet elevated as you spin. Like this,” Oya explained before demonstrating. It took a few tries, but Sky finally got the hang of it and was ready to move onto the next spin.

“This third spin is called the back hook. You’re gonna grip the pole with your right hand, wrap your right leg around it and let the universe do its thing. As you’re going around, you’re gonna grip the pole near the bottom with your left hand,” Oya explains.

“Let the universe do its thing? You mean gravity because that shit sounds like I’m going to bust my ass and get a concussion. Now how exactly do you plan to explain that to my fathers? Me being concussed, I mean?” Sky asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Just try it, scaredy-cat. I promise I’m not gonna let you concuss yourself,” Oya giggled.

By the end of the 2-hour lesson, Sky could successfully do the back hook along with the climb, the seat, and carousel spin, which she deemed her personal favorite.

After a few sips of water, Skylar took a seat in one of the chairs along the wall and watched Oya dance. Mid-way through the class, she opted to sit her phone down on the floor in front of the mirrors to record a few videos to send to Erik and Shea once they were done. Since Oya was putting on a show, she decided to give her some music to vibe to. Soon, the mellow sounds of Tadow by Masego filled the studio. Oya’s limber body swayed effortlessly to the beat.

Oh oh I saw her and she hit me like (tadow) // Saw that thing so beautiful (tadow)

She just hit my heart, oh (tadow) // Full force and she got me like (tadow)

Sky closed her eyes, allowing the music to transport her to her happy place. Everything grew still and tranquil and she just existed freely with Oya, no distractions and no apprehension. Deep down she knew she wanted this woman, but couldn’t seem to shake that nagging, fearful voice in the back of her mind. She shook her head, not wanting to go down that road at the moment. She was content and happy right where she was and wanted to stay that way.

When she opened her eyes again, Oya was straddling her lap, rolling her hips sensually to Body Party by Ciara. Just as she was finding her groove, California Love by Tupac began blaring through the speakers, signaling an incoming call from Erik. Not wanting to disturb the beauty in her lab, she answered the call from her Apple Watch.

“Yes?” was all she said as she wrapped her arms around Oya’s waist.

“I knew it! Best friend getting booty! You owe me $50!” he yelled to O’Shea who was sitting next to him.

“Wait, you niggas bet on me?!” she exclaimed, moving Oya slightly to the right to stare down into the camera.

“It was a spur of the moment thing, but yes. I figured you’d take my advice, but I wasn’t expecting you to be getting booty in the studio.”

“Ain’t nobody getting booty,” Skylar fussed. “She’s only dancing.”

“I mean if you want some booty, that can be arranged,” Oya said with a smirk.

“Hush, ain’t nobody talking to you. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Yes Mama,” Oya teased, continuing her ministrations.

“Mama?!” Erik and O’Shea yelled in unison, sounding like Soulja Boy on his Breakfast Club interview. Oya giggled, looking back at Sky who was shaking her head at her best friend and employee’s antics.

“Move nigga! I wanna see too!” O’Shea fussed, snatching Erik’s phone from his hand. “Ooh, her ass fat,” Shea exclaimed, putting her whole face in the camera like a kid asking if you had games on your phone.

“You know what, bye!” Sky said, ending the call before returning her focus to Oya.

“How do you deal with them?”

“I ignore them most of the time if we’re being honest,” Sky said with a chuckle. “You know, you look really good in my lap,” Sky remarked as Oya slowed her motions.

“Really now? You tryna keep me here, Sunshine?”

“I just might, pretty girl,” Sky said, lifting her head slightly meeting Oya’s lips in a soft kiss. It was soft and slow, with a hint of tongue and a few lip bites. It felt right and when they were done, Sky was lightheaded. She bit her lip softly as Oya stared down at her, returning her heated gaze.

“Wanna go again?”

**

After another 3-4 hours dancing and making out, Skylar and Oya parted ways, making plans to visit Little Tokyo for their date the following day. Sky kept her promise to call Erik once she was finally home safely, making sure to tell him every tiny little detail that transpired after their FaceTime call abruptly ended.

“Finally! Bold Sky is making a comeback!”

“Oh my God, shut up!” Skylar exclaimed, hiding her face in her sherpa blanket to cover the fact that her face was as red as the soles of her Louboutins as if Erik could see her. “Her lips are super soft, though. I swear it felt like I was kissing a cloud.”

“I’m proud of you. So what did you guys decide on for her therapy?”

“Well, I’m gonna implement the 7-Day schedule that you have with O’Shea and if that works out then I’ll gradually introduce BDSM elements.”

Erik nodded, rubbing his chin occasionally.

“I like that and if you need some tips, let me know.”

“Will do, boss man. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a nice long soak. We stretched out muscles I forgot I had.”

“Keep on, let her stretch some more shit out,” Erik teased, his wide grin evident in his tone.

“Goodbye, Dr. Nigga!” Sky screeched, hanging up in his face. She couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across her face as she recalled the way Oya’s lips felt against hers or the way her body felt as they rolled against one another on the floor of the studio.

While she showered, she imagined what Oya’s other set lips tasted like, or how she would sound moaning her name as her tongue lapped up her essence until she came undone over and over again.

Before she knew it her fingers were inside her flower, plunging deeper and deeper until her back rested against her shower wall, a pool of her juices flowing down the drain. She bit her lip as she thought about the introduction of BDSM to their relationship. If the mere thought of Oya had her behaving this way, there’s no telling what would happen when the two were finally intimate, but she was eager to find out.

**

The bell on the door of the flower shop dinged, signaling the departure of the final patron of Nola Greene Florists, the flower shop Skylar’s fathers owned. Hibiscus flowers, Louisiana Irises, and Gardenias were just a few of assorted flowers that lined the different shelves of the shop, all blooming bright and filling the space with a heavenly scent. Ruben was in a corner tending to a row of hibiscuses when he glanced over at Simon who was sitting behind the counter going over inventory.

“Have you heard from your daughter?” Ruben asked as he plucked another dead leaf from the plant.

“We spoke for a bit the other night. She apparently has an ice cream date today,” Simon replied looking up from the clipboard.

“A date?! And she didn’t tell her father?” Ruben gasped, almost trimming the head of a hibiscus as he ranted.

“Well damn, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“I didn’t mean it like that Simey Bear,” Ruben coaxed. “She just usually shares these kinda things with me first. I guess I feel a little jealous.”

“You’re such a diva,” Simon said with a chuckle. “The one time she tells me something before you, you’re up in arms.”

Ruben pouted slightly. Ever since Skylar was a child, they would always talk about the boys she liked and he would be the one to help with her hair and makeup.

“So what exactly does this boy look like?”

“It’s not a boy,” Simon said with a smirk.

“Oh? It’s another fish? It better not be that Monica heifer!” Ruben shouted as he slammed the shears on the counter.

“You know, she didn’t say,” Simon recalled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Let’s call her.”

**

The streets were relatively clear as Skylar and Oya walked hand in hand through Little Tokyo. They grabbed a few t-shirts from Popkiller, Skylar’s favorite being the Kawaii Kanye shirt Oya picked out before leaving and heading to the Tokyo Japanese Outlet. There, Skylar bought herself a life-size Jigglypuff plush while Oya browsed the pin section. Sky rolled her eyes playfully as Oya stuck the ‘I Love Cat’ pin to the front of her shirt, rubbing her head against her chest purring.

“You’re aggy,” Sky said before playfully pushing her head away.

“Yet you’re still here with me,” Oya countered, walking out of the shop in search of food.

The pair decided on Shen Sin Gumi. Skylar remembered O’Shea talking about how great the food was and how they had the best ramen in LA. They both settled on spicy tonkotsu ramen with kikiruge mushrooms, green onions, and extra chashu. Skylar also ordered a side of takoyaki and chicken gyoza while Oya got a side of veggie tempura.

“Damn,” Skylar exclaimed slurping a noodle. “This is the best ramen in LA.”

Oya nodded in agreeance, taking a bite of the veggie tempura.

“It is. We should start letting O’Shea pick out food spots more often.”

“We should. All the little fat fuck does is eat,” Sky chuckled.

After lunch and more exploring of Little Tokyo, the pair ended their date at Bae, Skylar’s favorite ice cream shop because of their quirky flavor options and the overall ambiance of the parlor.

Oya couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face when her eyes fell on the neon sign that read ‘With love, from bae’ as soon as they walked in.

“Real cute, Greene.”

“I know,” Skylar smirked back. The pair sampled several different flavors of ice cream, their mutual favorites being Pegasus, Mixed Feelings, Ube, and Heartbreak. Skylar’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much and she was in the middle of telling one of Papa Simon’s favorite jokes when her phone rang.

“Speak of the devil,” she said, answering the FaceTime call. “Hello father,” she said with a playful eye roll.

“Now is that any way to greet your father?” Simon asked, holding the phone close to his face in an attempt to see who Skylar was with.

Sky caught on and moved to the other side of the table.

“You’re right, where are my manners? Hello Papa Simon. How are things with you and Papa Ruben?”

“They’re good, my dearest. How are things with you and your friend?” Skylar decided to play dumb a little longer.

“Erik is fine. We’re both experimenting with SPT with our current clients and so far, things have been going well.”

Ruben, knowing the game his daughter was playing snatched the phone from Simon and commanded the screen.

“Cut the bullshit, Moreau. Let us see her.”

Skylar smiled as she bit her lip and moved back to sit beside Oya once more.

“Oya, these are my fathers, Simon and Ruben Greene. Dads, this is Oya.”

“Oh Skylar, she’s stunning,” Ruben exclaims, causing Oya to blush.

“Thank you, sir. It’s nice to meet you, Skylar talks about you all the time.”

“She better,” Ruben teased. “Okay, finish your date. I just had to make sure it wasn’t that part-time gay heifer.”

Skylar laughed at that.

“No Daddy, Monica is a distant memory. As a matter of fact, I think Oya just may be a permanent addition of she acts right,” Sky smirked, glancing over at Oya.

“Excuse you, madam?” Oya said with mock offense.

“I’m just playing, pretty girl,” Sky coaxed, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

“Mmhm... Tell me anything,” Oya teased, sucking her thumb off camera.

“Oop, she’s spicy. I like her,” Ruben said. “Well, you two enjoy your date. Papa Simon and I will check in on you later.”

“Yes, sir. Bye Dads,” Sky said as she ended the call. She shoved her phone back in her jacket pocket as Oya went to grab another double scoop of Heartbreak.

As she caught herself staring at the light-skinned, curly red-haired cutie before her, one thing was certain: She was fucked. Absolutely, positively, 100% fucked. She now knew how Erik felt the first time he realized how enamored he was with O’Shea and she wanted to curse herself for teasing him the way she did. Not since Monica had anyone made her feel so free and uninhibited and initially, she was very apprehensive about it. But once she saw Oya’s smile spread across her face and create that subtle twinkle in her eye, Skylar made it her business to have it on display more often.

“What?” Oya’s voice pulled Skylar from her thoughts and it was then that she realized she had been staring the entire time.

“H-Huh? What?”

“You were staring again, Moreau,” Oya responds with a sly smirk, extending a hand to brush a few stray curls from her face.

“You getting real comfortable with my middle name, Ms. Ramirez,” Sky remarks, leaning over to steal a lick of her ice cream cone.

“Just like you getting comfortable with my damn ice cream, ya thief!” Oya says with a laugh.

“It looked good, I couldn’t help myself!” Skylar screeched, throwing her arms up in mock surrender.

“Uh-huh, I bet you couldn’t. You gone make me fight you,” Oya fussed.

“Aww, don’t be like that, pretty girl,” Sky teased, causing Oya’s grin to stretch wider.

“You lucky you’re a hot doctor,” Oya smirked, stealing a lick from Skylar’s Pegasus cone.

Sky only smirked and shook her head as she watched Oya eat.

“You’re trouble, Ms. Ramirez.”

“Glad you know, Dr. Greene.”

**

The next morning found Skylar smiling from ear to ear as she entered the shop. O’Shea watched with a smirk as she bounced on her toes all the way down to her office.

“I take it you had a good time?”

“I had a great time. She’s sweet, she’s funny, and she doesn’t take any of my shit which is something I’ll have to get used to, but I enjoy it.”

“You and Erik really are two sides of the same coin. I bet he tells you the same shit about me.”

“That he does.”

“Awww, Sky Bear is in love,” O’Shea teased, poking at Skylar’s sides.

“I’m not in love, yet, but there is a possibility that something more than business will come from this and I’m not opposed.”

O’Shea squealed, kicking her feet like an excited schoolgirl.

“I’m so happy for you. You’ve been through so much and it’ll be nice for you to be loved the way you deserve to be.”

“Aww, thanks, Shea. That’s really sweet of you to say.”

“And I mean it, too. Oh, I almost forgot,” O’Shea squeaked as she bound up the stairs and back down again. “These were delivered for you.”

Sky raised an eyebrow before taking the bouquet of sunflowers from O’Shea. They smelled heavenly and hand a little black card attached.

“Ooh, what does it say?” Shea asked, bouncing excitedly. Sky grabbed the card and smiled from ear to ear as she read the message aloud.

“To my Sunshine,

May your day be as beautiful and as sweet as this bouquet.”

-With love,

From Bae

Links to pole moves used above:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZxMFtZxPko&t=116s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tap-qXHJIpQ&t=132s

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[miyu-hyperfixates]

The Untamed and MDZS appreciation and recommendation post

Okay so fair warning to my small amount of followers, this blog will probably be full of MXTX contents starting from now, because I’ve fallen into MXTX’s hell and I don’t see myself climbing out any time soon.

I’m not even kidding in the span of three months, I’ve watched CQL (like 4 times), watched the special edition, watch the MDZS donghua, read the novel, read the manhua, read a fair amount of fics, discovered the SVSSS’s characters through a few crossover fanfics, started to read SVSSS, then TGCF (as well as their respective manhua up to the last translated chapters) and well generally immersed myself into the fandoms. And I LOVE it! And I have so, so many feelings and thoughts about the characters, the plots, the relationships, everything, that I don’t even know where to start! 

Okay so for those who don’t know what the hell I’ve talking about. MXTX stands for Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù who is the author of three amazing novels: Mo Dao Zu Shi (MDZS) [also called Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation], The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System (SVSSS) and Tian Guan Ci Fu (TGCF) [Heaven Official’s Blessing]. The Untamed or Chen Qing Ling (CQL) is the chinese drama adaptation of her most well known (as of now) novel MDZS.

I am going to talk about CQL/The Untamed and MDZS (novel version) in this post... But it will probably be followed by posts about TGCF and SVSSS too.

I’ve tried to be pretty vague on several points so that should keep the spoilers at minimum, in case you didn’t watch CQL yet.

[More under the cut] 

Okay so as someone of Asian descent who was born and raised in an European country and spent her formative years watching wuxia and xianxia, The Untamed/CQL is the kind of representation that I really didn’t know I needed and I am so, so glad that I gave it a chance. (Big, big thanks to @shit-happens-bitchachos for reblogging so much CQL contents that the frequent presence of it on my dash got me curious  enough to start watching it).

Watching The Untamed for the first time feels like coming back to a home that you once thought would be frigid but actually became very warm and welcoming without you noticing because you have been away for so long. And it feels both nostalgic and new, in the best possible way. It’s a wonderful feeling, really. 

Where to find it?

You can watch the drama english sub version on Netflix, Viki or Youtube, just typed “The Untamed” and you should find the episodes easily.

To be honest, though I am very thankful for the existence of such platform, I have a slight [read huge] dislike of Netflix’s choice of translation for any Asian movie/tv shows. I mean I’m not going to go off on a debate about official translation vs fan translation, nor westernization and how doing so not only take off a huge layer of subtle/or not so subtle communication but also participate to erase part of the culture. [Because I have opinions about this and I am still very much so cringing about all the “Yanli”s, it is really not the point I’m trying to make right now. ]

So out of the three version, I’d lean more on the Viki version. To be clear though this choice isn’t based on the accuracy of the translation, but strictly on the choice of naming and title convention.

As for the novel, you can find  here a complete english translation made by the Exiled Rebels Scanlations group.

The plot

I’m not going to go into detail about the plot, because I’m sure a lot of people out there managed to do so in a way more articulate way that I ever could.

So basically CQL is about Wei Wuxian, aka the Yiling Patriarch. The Yiling Patriarch is like this huge urban legend that everyone warns their children about, except he actually existed. Why such a reputation? Well, in a Cultivation society where people used spiritual energy to fight and exorcise creatures full of resentful energy (such as ghost, ghouls and other things), the Yiling Patriarch is actually the guy who decided that he was going to use resentful energy to fight resentful energy. What he is doing is called “demonic cultivation” and if you want a western equivalent it would be quite close to using necromancy. And if you want an idea of how blasphemous such method of cultivation is deemed, it would be the equivalent of going to a Christian exorcist organization and yelling loud and clear to all the people there that you’re gonna desecrate the tombs of all holy people and use their corpses to fight ghost and other dark creatures.

So the legend/story of the Yiling Patriarch goes as follow: The Yiling Patriarch and his army of corpses were actually quite useful to turn over the tide of a war that shook the foundations of the Cultivation World, annihilating the strongest Sect of the five Great Cultivation Sects (that lorded over the cultivation society). But some time afterwards the Yiling Patriarch revealed his true colors, and killed more than 3000 cultivators (among them his elder sister and her husband - orphaning their one month old son) before finally ended up being killed by his own little brother.

And now sixteen (or thirteen in the novel) years later, Wei Wuxian’s soul got called back because of a dark ritual. The ritual involved giving up their own soul and offering their body to summon up the soul of a dead, evil, person. The soul summoned would have to accomplish the task the summoner wished for, or the soul would be forever destroyed without being able to ever reincarnate. And so, Wei Wuxian woke up in the body of Mo Xuanyu, a young man who was abused by his family and wished for revenge. While trying to work out what he is supposed to do, Wei Wuxian quickly realized that the Mo family is actually being targeted by fierce corpses that are acting way more aggressively than they should. Turns out that it was because of a possessed spirit sword [a cut out arm in the novel].

Afterwards he encounters Lan Wangji, an esteemed cultivator, one of the strongest of his generation, coming from one of the most righteous Cultivation Sect. And the thing is, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji appear to have quite a complicated history that dates back to their teenage years. And CQL/MDZS is not only about how they decided to investigate the mystery of the possessed sword/arm (which ended up digging up a lot of secrets and conspiracy ), but also about Wei Wuxian’s past, starting from when he was 15 and meeting Lan Wangji for the first time.

The few things that you’re probably going to feel/think while watching the few first episodes

Confusion I think I’m not even kidding when I say you’re supposed to be in a state of perpetual confusion for the first two episodes... There’s this huge info dump, in the first five minutes of episode 1, then you’ll have to navigate this new world feeling as confused as dead-for-sixteen years Wei Wuxian... You’ll meet dozens of characters and if you can’t remember their names or who they are it’s normal don’t worry. Each character has a birth name (Wei Ying, Lan Zhan) and a courtesy name that (Wuxian, Wangji)... And so if you see Wei Ying or Wei Wuxian just know that it refers to the same person. And to complicate things further some characters also have a title (Yiling Patriarch, Hanguang-Jun)  other people might use to refer to them. So really, if you want to understand what is going on, you might want to note the name, title and relationship down... But it’s kinda tedious?  I promise it is unnecessary as those characters will all be introduced properly in the flash-back starting at the end of episode 2, and you’ll fully be able to get used to them and keep track of them. Of course, if you managed to remember a few names, once the character is being introduced in the past, you’ll get a “ Oh so at some point, this is going to happen to them” sort foreshadowing/foreknowledge, which is neat, I guess. [I recommend going back to watch the first two episodes, once the flash-back is over, to fully grasp what was going on there].

What the hell am I even watching? Okay so this one might only just be me but I was pretty hooked by the story by episode 3... and then I reached episode 8 and 9 and I kid you not, I went “Oh boy... that’s.... yeah okay... *cover face with hands*”... So I was cringing pretty hard for those two episodes out of second-hand embarrassment at the extras actors acting level... Like woah... It was supposed to be scary and threatening and all but I couldn’t just take them seriously? (You’ll know what I’m talking about when you get there)... That with some plot points made me seriously consider stopping right there.... But thankfully I didn’t. So you really just need to pass the first two episodes [which are really good] and cringe your way through the two most abyssal episodes in the show (in my opinion) and everything will go smoothly afterwards.  Though to be fair, it might be explained by the fact that no one expected that CQL would have the highest number of reviews of Chinese drama, nor that it would be the highest earning drama of 2019 and certainly not that it would accumulate 8 billions views on Tennent by May 2020. Where am I going with this?  Well it was certainly no Game of thrones in terms of budget... That’s what I’m trying to say. It had a low budget production... and well in a fantasy world where everyone and their grandma use supernatural power to fight each other and demonic creatures, special effects are a must. Choices had had to be made [and while I am very thankful for the aspects they decided to use the money on] the special effects were very touch and go.

Okay but are they going to be together or is this another case of queerbaiting? So if what you’re asking is “will we ever get a kiss, a love confession or definite proof of their relationship?”. The very short answer is “No.” You’ll never see any of those on screen for the very simple and good reason that there are censorship laws in China regarding queer relationship on screen. “So it’s basically queerbaiting?” Again no. CQL was adapted from a BL chinese novel. In the novel there is absolutely no room for doubts that they are together. But because of the censorship the producer teams had to remove all definite and obvious proof of romance, but it also means that they had to be creative and anything in the subtext or subtle areas was a go. Like really they crammed more homoerotic text (like at this point is this even subtext) in the show than in all other kinds of adaptations (including the novel, where we get kissing, sex and eloping). It got the point that contrarily to the novel, donghua and manhua where the whole Cultivation world thought Lan Wangji hated Wei Wuxian and that they couldn’t stand each other,in the show everybody and their dogs knew that the two were very close.  Also, while I absolutely hate that those censor law exist and am very disappointed that such homophobic mentality still exist and that we won’t get a full adaptation and explicit of their love story, I must say that because of this my demisexual ass absolutely love the depiction of their love in the show. I mean, when you don’t have the “easy way out” of kissing and sex and so all to show that they is definitively romance material going on here... You have to get creative, you have to convey it with all other gestures... touching, gazing at each other and so on... And it creates such a soft but intense  and intimate environment around them...By the way I’m not trying to negate their sexual relationship in the novel (#LetWangxianFreelyExpressTheirSexualLives)... I’m just saying that I’m not sure the producing teams would have gotten to such a length in the show if they could just have adapted the explicit romance scenes. Now if somehow they’d had managed to keep the same level of intense subtext and be able to adapt the romance scenes too, that would have been the best, but well...

The reasons you should still absolutely watch/read it? 

The plot

The way all those character journeys and stories are interwoven in such a cohesive picture is nothing short of amazing. And the way that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji unravel events that happened more than a decade ago piece by piece [or rather body part by body part] is so very well done. And of course half way through, you think that you’ve got the full pictures, and you’re sort of gloating all the while because you see it coming from miles away and how can the cast be that stupid... And well you are not wrong. Watch out for the canary though.   The show chose to move a few things in term of timeline (character appearing and events happening way before they were supposed to... )... They also added a few original plot points in the past.... So as a results it feels slightly less cohesive and coherent than in the novel. Anyway I won’t go into details here because I’ve got this super long post planned where I’d detailed all the differences between the novel and the show and why some things worked in my opinion but not other. CQL and MDZS are what a properly balanced plot-driven and character-driven show/novel look like.

The relationships

Of course, Wangxian (Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji) should absolutely be mentioned. Because throughout the story in the past, you watch as young, wild, ingenious, thinking-out-of-box Wei Wuxian meet an equally young seemingly inflexible, impassive, following 3000+ rules in his daily lives Lan Wangji, you watch how their personality clashes before finally acknowledging each other skills, you watch how they hurt during the war, how quickly they had to grew up, you watch how one of them had to watch the other walking down a quickly crumbling path, being alienated by the world without being able to help, you watch how they lost each other, before finally finding each other again after sixteen/thirteen years. And then you can finally watch how soft they are with each other, how in-sync they are, the trust, the devotion, the willingness to stand by each other against the whole fucking world. And as I already mentioned before, because of the censure law in China, you’ll never can’t and will never get to see Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian say “I love you” to each other on the show. It still manages to convey “I love you” in every other possible way without having them actually say the words. I mean at this point it can’t even be considered subtext... It’s plain text written in bold underlined font that can be read in every single one of their interactions, and sometimes even when the other isn't even there, [It's basically subtitles! Hah! Okay getting out of there].

It helps that the chemistry between the two actors is absolutely mind-blowing. And the acting is nothing short of amazing. If you’ve been in the spn fandom then you might know that Jensen is king of the micro-expressions ... well I’m afraid that he has been dethroned by Wang Yibo (Lan Wangji’s actor) in my mind.

But really, wangxian is not the only relationship worth mentioning in CQL/MDZS. One of the other huge highlight in my opinion is the several siblings dynamics. There are about seven sets of siblings among the whole cast and because shitty, shittier and shittiest parents were apparently the norm for their generation, we get to see the trope of “eldest child basically raised their younger siblings” in five different flavors. Of course the main focus is on Wei Wuxian and his siblings, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t see the sheer care and protectiveness oozing out of the other four sets of siblings. As someone who loves family bonding (and especially found families), I really appreciate the fact that among those sets of siblings, there are some that are related by blood, some who are half-siblings and some who are not related biologically but consider themselves siblings regardless. And while all their relationships are different - because they are different people - they all do share the same love for their siblings.  “How far are you willing to go for your siblings?” “How much are you ready to sacrifice for them?” The show answers those two questions in various all throughout the story in a more or less oblique way, and right there lies the motivation behind a lot of the characters’ actions, good or bad. Their relationship with their siblings is actually one of the major driving force of the characters (Wei Wuxian among them). And I love it, because it shows that love comes in a many, many forms.

  The overarching themes

“What’s right, what’s wrong? Who’s good, who’s evil? Who’s strong, who’s weak?”

In such an elitist society who will judge you at the drop of a hat (especially if you have the bad taste of coming from a more unfortunate lineage), how can you define the difference between “right” and “wrong”? Wherein the midst and the aftermath of a blood thirsty war, the distinction between “good” and “evil” more often than only lies on where you were born and/or your family name rather than where you actually stood or what you did in the war. This right here is the very huge underlying theme that is being woven throughout the show/novel. Not only are we, the viewer/reader, invited to think/judge for ourselves based on the actions of the characters... But our main character, Wei Wuxian verbalizes those doubts and questions explicitly a few times and implicitly in the stand and choices that he decided to take. And due to Wei Wuxian’s influence, Lan Wangji who is used to follow his 3000+ rules on a daily life basis without ever questioning them, starts to do so. (“Do not befriend evil.”, “Be righteous.” )  What does it mean to be righteous? Must the notion of righteousness always align with general opinion? How do you define the ‘evil’ that you are not supposed to befriend? Is my definition the same as yours? Is my definition the same as the rest of the world? And if it is not the case, does it necessarily means that I’m in the wrong?  And the very obvious answer to those questions is “No, there is no visible line between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, ‘good’ or ‘evil’... Nor is there any universally agreed on way to act in order to fit in one category or the other...” And this answer is illustrated in all the ways those numerous characters are depicted: their love, their hatred, their fear, their pain, their joys, their tears, their motivations, their frustrations, their shortcomings, their hidden or not so hidden agenda, their flaws... All of them are depicted in such an awesome and wholesome human way.  They are not fully good or fully bad, they are human, with all that it entails... Main characters and main villains included (or rather, I’d say especially them) [Though the show tended smooth and cover this aspect a little bit more than the novel in my opinion]  

“Don't you understand? When you’re standing on their side, you’re the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. But the second your voice differs from theirs, you’ve lost your mind, you’ve ignored morality, you’ve walked the crooked path.” (Jiang Cheng)

Another theme that is strongly address here is the matter of “Public Opinion”. Despite (or rather because of) how fickle it is, public opinion, rumors (no matter how unfounded) could so easily ruins your reputation, your standing. And if you loose their favors than all your previous actions (no matter how praised it had been in the past) would be seen with a blackened lens. I remember feeling as frustrated as Wei Wuxian at the lack of logic, the rhetoric employed and the sheer hypocrisy that had been portrayed by the mass. I think that there is one character that can be easily recognized as the pure personification of “Public Opinion”, he is without a doubt meant to be the “voice of the mass, of the bystanders whose opinions shouldn’t really matter but actually does a lot”. I won’t tell who it is, it’s pretty obvious if you watch the show... And I think that we are meant to feel annoyed at such characters. I think we are meant to be as frustrated as that one character who at a mass gathering tried to make a stand, tried to do the right thing, but was quickly shut down with dubious rhetoric and blatant disregard because their voice didn’t carry enough power. And last but not least, the show/novel broaches the issue of how social standing is considered very, very much dependent on your circumstance of birth. Like I said before the cultivation world in CQL/MDZS is inherently elitist. In order to be able to cultivate you must learn the proper techniques and at a quite young age. But it is not something that you could do on your own unless you’re some kind of genius or prodigy. Which means that you must attract the attention of a nearby sects or begs them to take you in as a disciple. It means though that you’ll probably start a little later than the disciples that were born directly within the sect [inner disciples], meaning you’ll probably end being weaker. However even if by some truly dedication and perseverance you manage to the same level as the inner disciples, you’ll still only be seen as an outer disciples, nothing more than cannon fodder in the eyes of society. In all the major sects, there is a distinctive mark, objects that only disciples coming from the sect family line are allowed to carry, as an irrevocable sign of their high standing in society and their inherent privileges. There are some exceptional circumstances though where someone of low birth status might reach this elitist sphere. But no matter how high they reach, how outstanding they are, in some way they will always be reminded (sometimes behind their backs, sometimes subtly, sometimes right in their face) of the stigma of their birth. There are three characters in particular, whose journeys mirror and foil each other a lot.   And I think it is very interesting to see this “son of a prostitute” or “son of a servant” or “street rat” or “bastard” advanced through society. They all received very different upbringings, despite all starting more or less at a low point. And I liked that the way they decided to live later on and how they tackle/handle the cultivation world  is very much reflected and influenced by their upbringings rather than the circumstances of their birth. It brings up this very strong message that, if they are the way they are it is not because of who their parents are, but rather how the people around them reacted to them. The way they are right now is not the fruit of their birth but a direct consequences of the rejection/acceptance of society. And so when you look at them, you can’t help but see their journeys as a three forking road paths reflecting the other like twisted mirrors. You look at their actions now, then back their different circumstances and you can’t help but think “Ah, that is what might happened if things were different.” [There is a reason that canon-divergence and time travel fix-it are my favorite tropes... my bias is really showing here... haha] And it really, really hammers on the importance of kindness in the face of misery and discrimination. Kindness  and acceptance at the right moment, no matter how small can change everything. Sometimes, something even as small as a candy.  

The movie sets and props So I mentioned before that the budget of CQL really wasn’t that high and they had to make choices. And I could only applaud their choices, because really, wah! Just look at the main sects locations, the scenery, the backgrounds. It’s so beautiful!! [Had I had any gifing talent I would have included them so that you could get the full mind-blowing experience... so I’ll just send you to @gusucloud​ blog, where all the gifs and edits are amazing, (Cloud Recesses here and Lotus Pier here) and in this post  have my lame-ass screenshots instead.]

The fine details, the workmanship in most of the props in the background, the swords!!! *Incoherent flailing*

[I didn’t manage to get any close-up of the swords... but believe me, they are piece of arts!]

The music

The soundtrack of the show is absolutely amazing and beautiful.

You know how in movies and tv shows couples always seem to have “a song”... like “Oh! Look our song is playing!”... Weeeeeell...

Wangxian do too and it’s literally their song, as in their actors are singing it. You can of course hear it in the ending, but... but! I think the way it was used within the episode was very striking. It’s one of the many ways the producer teams managed to convey the romantic aspect of their relationship. And it was very well done.

Wuji, by Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo

Wuji, instrumental piano + flute + Zither version

Just imagine, dude just resurrected from his 16 years of deadness and you see him moping at night by playing this beautiful tune with a freaking leaf... just because he saw some cultivators wearing the same uniform as Lan Wangji... So at this point you know that this song might means something but well, you don’t really get it...

The second time you hear this tune, we are on a mountain, and it’s through a bamboo flute that Wei Wuxian used to appease and calm down an agitated corpse [who he apparently knows]... He is luring ‘it’ out to a safe place, so he is playing the song while slowly moving back one step at a time. Then his back suddenly bumps into someone... This person catches his hand. The flute playing abruptly stops and the full instrumental version with piano+flute is suddenly blaring out in the background. And then it’s as if the whole world stops as they gaze at each other, while the music keeps playing. And really, you might fully understand the weight of their gazes, or their history, but you know that it’s there... That’s the moment where you look at them looking at each other, grasping at each other wrist, where you can still hear their song in the background... and can only go “Oh. Oh.”  [Then of course a purple ball of pure anger just had to come and interrupt them. Excuse you, they were quickly having a moment there. Kidding aside, It was such a nice scene, it’s hand down one of my favorite scene of the whole show, and the music played a really huge part in my opinion.]

And if it wasn’t enough to hammer it down. The third times will definitively do it. So both of them are fifteen years and meet each other for the first time, when Wei Wuxian goes to study at Lan Wangji’s sect. Of course there first impression of each other is disastrous, what’s with Wei Wuxian insisting to come inside despite having lost his invitation and Lan Wangji clearly stating that no one is allowed without invitation. Of course it doesn’t help that after running back to fetch his lost invitation, Wei Wuxian snuck in after curfew (breaking a protective ward on his way), while smuggling two jar of alcohol. All of the above are forbidden in Cloud Recess, by the way. So our boy just casually broke three rules and then who catch him, right when he is climbing over the wall? Lan Wangji, who’s on patrol, of course. [Like I said, disastrous first impression]...And so after frostily listing all the rules Wei Wuxian broke not even five minutes in , Lan Wangji tries to bring Wei Wuxian to be disciplined. Wei Wuxian, of fucking course, resists. And the two proceed to fight (sword and all).

Cue their song playing as they cross swords on the rooftop of Cloud recesses, under the light of a full moon night.

If that is not a meet-cute I don’t know what it is.

Anyway this song is played many, many more times in the show and I’m not talking about them because I don’t want to spoil anyone.

Also as an aside, they don’t appear in the show... But there are character songs that have been recorded. Some of them sung by the actual actors and other not. And while all of them are really good, if there is absolutely one that you must listen to, it’s “Bu Wang” by Wang Yibo the actor of Lan Wangji.  Make sure to watch the official MV only after watching the whole show (because it’s spoilery) and to activate the cc for the lyrics translation. It’s such a beautiful and painful song; and a very insightful reflection of Lan Wangji’s character.  I love it.

Lan Sizhui and A-Yuan

No argument or explanation needed, you’ll see when you get there. I dare you not to like those small fluffy cinnamon rolls! 

The Junior Quartet

Okay those ducklings deserve a whole sub-section on their own. Not only because they are all amazing kids but because of what they represent.  

What is really great here is that since the story takes place over the span of 16/13 years, you get to see three different generations at various stage of their development. In the past you get to see the parents generation at their sum-up while there child, the following generation [Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji etc] from their teenage years to young adulthood. Then in the present you see the teenagers reaching the age their parents were (more or less, probably slightly younger) and the next generation (the ducklings) about the same age as Wei Wuxian’s generation were at the beginning. And the juxtaposition between the two pictures is just so, so very telling because the differences are glaring.

I’m going to borrow the words from qrbat who wrote this wonderful fanfiction, “tell some storm” on ao3.

The parents generation was a generation of Pride and Greed, it was a generation that lauded standing your ground no matter what and refusing outsider help. They were the generation which raised their children as a “generation of War”. A war that they started and that their children, teenagers, had to fight and end for them. And in comparison the junior generation seems so unexperienced so soft... and that’s a good thing, because it means that those children hadn’t had to experience the hardship of war, hadn’t had to grow up so fast because they basically didn’t have any decent parental figures to help them. Instead of perpetuating the cycle of hate and war started by their elders, the generation of War raised the next generation as a generation of peace, as a “generation of Love” and acceptance.

And it is amazing because the juniors, simply by being who they are, are embodying  this  message from Wei Wuxian’s generations to their parents “See? This is what it means to parent. I had to sacrifice my childhood and innocence to fight your war and I still managed to raise such amazing and kind children, what was your freaking excuse? I will not be like you. Times are changing and they are changing for the better.”

.

.

*Look at length of the post* *snort* Right. Okay, would you believe me, if I told you that in the beginning this post was supposed to be an appreciation post for all three of MXTX’s works and not just MDZS because I was afraid it would be too short? Yup so turned out I had a lot more things to say than I thought.  Please feel free to react or just message me about anything MXTX’s fandom related... I am desperately in need of friends to discuss with about MXTX’s stuff!   

[diegoh4rgreeves]

Angels

Story Summary: Diego comes home from a night out seeking a mission. He comes home to the boiler room of the gym and he wakes reader up for some kisses and cuddles which evolves to making love. He proposes to her afterwards. Special comical appearance by Klaus at the end.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Female Reader

Chapter: 1/1

Word Count: 3,174 words

Warning: Fluff, rape mention, smut, swearing

A/N: Hi! Here is a fairly lengthy one. I spent 3 days rewriting this and the ideas behind it. Usually I flesh things out before writing. This was a story I thought I had set and I found out the hard way that I should stick with my usual method of writing. I am proud of this one anyway. I hope you all love it as much as I do!

I am sleeping on the bed in one corner of his home, which is a boiler room at a gym. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” he’s told me. His home has dusty brick red walls. It’s big enough to have an area for a kitchen and a bedroom. I’ve joked that he can tell people it’s a studio apartment.

He – my vigilante boyfriend, and Number 2 of The Umbrella Academy, Diego, just got back from work. He is shirtless and wearing boxers on his way to bed. I was asleep until he budged me awake. He wakes me when he gets home every morning. It relieves me to see him come home safe and sound.

I let out a groan, to wake up for him. “What time is it? We need to get windows, Diego.”

“I know I know,” he says with the remembrance of me suggesting this before. “I’m on it. I’ve just gotten busy.” He checks his watch. “It’s about 7.”

“In the morning?” I sit up on the bed and rub my eyes.

He nods as he takes off his watch and tosses it on the floor.

I let out one last groan before shifting myself to the side of the bed near the wall so that he can lie down next to me. He used to have a single bed. After our first year of dating, he bought a twin size one.

He smiles and takes the spot. “Hey,” he utters. “Are you awake yet? I wanna give you a kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I let out what I hope is one last yawn. “I’m awake.” I lean into him in my tired state and insist on being awake for him. We peck each other’s lips. “How was your night?” I ask. “Are you okay? Did you get caught by the cops again?”

He chuckles. “No, Y/N, I did not get caught by the cops again. Even if I did, that’s not a big deal. I’m fine. You worry too much.”

“I don’t want you to get arrested again,” I press.

He sighs. “They believe me about Patch now, okay? That was a long time ago.”

I nod. Eudora Patch was the name of Diego’s ex girlfriend and she was a cop. She died when she was working on a case against the usual police procedure and got shot by a hitman. Diego’s never said anymore details to me after that. “I’m sorry if that’s a bad reminder.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago.”

“Do you still miss her?” I ask, despite this question putting a pang in my heart.

He shrugs. “I mean, she was also my friend, you know? So yeah, I do miss her.” He looks back at me. “But I’m in love with you. Like… in love with you.” He smiles softly. “It’s ridiculous! I thank myself everyday for moving on.”

The concerned frown on my face formed into a thankful smile. I remember how good he’s been to me in the past 3 years. “I love you so much.” I lean in and press his lips with mine. His lips are cold after being out all night in this early Fall weather.

“I love you so much too,” he says in between a kiss.

I smile and shift some of the blanket over to him.

He scoffs. “Blanket hog.” He takes some of the blanket and covers his legs and thighs.

I roll my eyes as I smile over his playful personality.

He keeps his smile towards me and kisses me again. “So, how was your day, huh?” He pecks and pecks my lips. “Or your yesterday, rather.”

“Diego…” I muffle. I can’t help but to giggle. “I can’t…” Another peck. Then he moves his lips from the left side of my cheek to my neck. “I can’t tell you about my day mid make-out session.”

He lifts his head up and smirks. “Well, tell me later then.”

“Then why did you ask how my day was!?” I laugh again. “You’re such a dork!”

“A dork who really missed you,” he takes himself off my neck and moves on to kissing me all over my cheeks.

I blush over this and continue laughing. “Why do you have to be so cute? It makes me so mad that I can’t actually be mad at you!”

He looks over at me with a puzzled look. “You’re weird.”

“Says you!”

“You’re also very pwetty,” he says in what sounds like an impersonation of a little boy.

“Hey, no fair! I think you’re ridiculously handsome myself.”

He takes himself off my cheeks. He is staring at me and gives me that same toothy smile. “Why are you so sweet?”

“Sweet? I thought I made fun of you too much.”

He shrugs. “Well I mean… that’s just banter. Other than that, you’ve been so good to me. You made me see that life has great people in it.”

“You did save me from a sexual predator 3 years ago.” I gulp after saying that. My stomach is in knots after bringing up my sexual trauma.

“Yeah, and you seem so grateful for it,” he says. “Normally people don’t notice me after I save them. You actually stopped me at Griddy’s Doughnuts because you thought you recognised the voice of someone who saved you.”

“I remember every moment of that night sadly…” I say quietly. “At least I did just shortly after it. Now I try to repress some details.”

He takes a moment before telling me that I am so strong and seem to be getting stronger everyday.

I hesitate before thanking him. “You are the best details of that night though.”

He takes a moment to look at me before giving me what seems to be the millionth kiss from him tonight.

I let go and snap back to banter mode. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a frickn nerd?”

“Ha ha…” he quips. “Not everyone can be a princess like you.”

“Whatever, nerd.” I smile at him and then eye his torso up and down.

He beams up. “Are you checkin’ this nerd out?” He pats his stomach. “This nerd’s temple of a body?”

I scoff. “…Maybe.”

He smiles mischievously. “So, tell me about your day.”

“It was going well until my boyfriend started teasing me!”

He chuckles.

I smile along with his chuckle.

“Did you miss me?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. “You really want me to say it?”

He gives another toothy smile. “It’s always nice to hear, so yes.”

“Fine. I missed you. I came over to the academy yesterday just to ask Klaus if you were there.”

He beams up. “Really? You did that?”

“Yes,” I admit. “Klaus was really weird about it by the way. He panicked and said something like, ‘Why? What have you heard?’ I guess that’s why I asked if any cops approached you again…”

He grins. “You’re so cute.” He gives me multiple kisses all over my cheeks again, which make me giggle along with my blushing. “You missed me. You really missed me!” He chuckles.

“I am curious why Klaus panicked though…” I pull myself away from Diego. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”

His smile drops. “You know Klaus. He’s always high.”

“He’s pretty articulate in what he says still,” I persist.

“Y/N, look, I’m fine! Everything’s fine. I promise you that, okay?”

I keep a stern face. “Okay… If you’re lying to me though, Diego Hargreeves, I swear I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

“Cry,” I joke.

He laughs. He leans in and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. His lips are warm now. I kiss him back and hold his bare chest with one hand. I rub it up and down and sigh a moan. He begs for entrance as he slides his tongue into my mouth. I open my mouth. He massages my tongue with his. I twirl his tongue with mine, and he twirls along with me. He pulls me in closer, causing me to get my hand off his chest and to put ours together. Then he grabs both sides of my waist and lifts me up to straddle his lap.

We heavily breath as we kiss passionately. He plays with the hem of the shirt I’m currently wearing, which is his baggy white t-shirt. “Wearing my clothes again, huh?” He says with a deep breath and tosses the shirt across the room. Before I can answer him, he puts his lips back with mine. He keeps his hands on my waist and crawls them up to my breasts, which he fondles both of with his hands. “I noticed your nipples when we were talking.”

“Oh yeah?” I respond.

Instead of making a conversation out of it, he leans down to where my breasts are and puts the tip of his tongue on my left breast. He looks up at me with a deep look. I let out a moan. I love attention on my breasts. I used to be so insecure about them. Now Diego reassures me that he loves them. He used to only say he loves them. Now he also proves it by getting to them first thing before sex. He keeps his look at me and massages my right breast with his hand. He also tickles my nipples with his index finger and his thumb. “Your breasts are perfect.” He reassures me.

He pecks my hot lips before he flips me on the bed and hovers over me. He goes down to remove the grey sweatpants I also borrowed from him. I lift my thighs up to assist him. He strips the sweatpants off and bunches it with his hands before tossing them across the room. He leans back down and looks at me deeply as he gets a feel of my wet vagina. “You’re wet.”

I nod. “Is that too much?”

“No, not at all,” he smirks. “It’s just enough.” He looks at it once more before hungrily going down on me and licking the wettest parts of me. He uses his thumb to flick my clit. He slides two fingers in unexpectedly which causes me to yelp. He lifts his face off me and shushes me. “Be a good girl and don’t wake the boxers coming in soon.”

“I can’t help it, Diego,” I moan. “It feels so good!”

I look down at him to see if he can respond as he licks up and down me. He is so focused on me that I am turned on even more.

He lifts himself off my private. He looks deeply at me again and slowly pulls down his boxers which reveal his erect cock. “I’ve never been so hard in my life,” he says.

“You say that every time,” I quip.

“Yeah, because you get sexier and sexier.” He lets out a sigh.

I blush. Gosh, he’s cute even when he’s being sexy!

He’s so into what he’s doing to me that he pays no mind to my bashfulness. He tosses his boxers across the room. He stares down at me again and gives himself a couple of strokes. “Mmm,” he reacts. “How are you this beautiful? You have the body of a goddess.”

I giggle. “Diego, stop! You’re too cute and sexy.”

“Hey, no, I’m complimenting you. You’re a goddess amongst men and I am so lucky to have you.” He signals for me to get out a condom from underneath his pillow. I follow suit and hand it to him. He unwraps it and slides it on himself.

He gives me a look before teasing my clit with the tip of his dick. He also slides it up and down my clit. I moan out his name. “Stop. I’m going to come if you do that. I want you inside of me first.”

He smiles with satisfaction and cups a hand to his ear. “You want me to what first?”

“Get inside of me,” I shamelessly repeat myself.

“’Please’?”

“Please,” I beg.

He smirks and inserts himself to me, very slowly. He’s so big that this is torturous. He pumps himself in and out as he’s on top. He tickles one of my nipples again with his index finger and his thumb. I can’t hold myself back from moaning anymore. I had to chase my high.

He lets out a groan and tilts his head back. He calls out my name and I call out his. This is provoking the both of us as he pumps harder and faster, and I hump back just as aggressively. I let out a groan myself, and he holds my waist for support.

“Y/N,” he says. “I’m so close. I’m so close, Y/N. Please. I’m trying to tease it.”

I moan before letting him know that I am also close. “Just play with my clit. Play with my clit. Please!” I grab my breasts and watch him watch me play with them. He flicks my clit with his index and middle fingers and continues watching me play with my breasts. I give him a seductive look as I do this. I take the liberty of licking one of them as well.

“Fuck…” he whispers as his face starts to fall and his mouth is hanging. “You’re so sexy. I love you. I wanna make love to you everyday!”

I giggle and moan with satisfaction over this. Seeing him lose control is making me clench up. He points out how tight I’ve been the whole time. Finally, he pulls out and oozes his semen into my mouth which I gladly swallow as I suck his dick. In that same moment I’m swallowing his semen, I get this relief on my private and moan loudly which finishes him. He lets out a groan and a sigh.

He lies down on the bed next to me and I shift over to give him more space. I lift my head up and he puts his arm around my neck. We take a moment to regulate our breathing.

We look at each other in bewilderment. “Wow!” he smirks.

“Yeah!” I agree. “…Wow. Wow is right!”

“I knew that this was gonna be good. I j-just…” He sighs. “Y/N, I-I- I d-d-don’t know how el-el-else to do this, so b-bear w-with m-me.” He gets himself off the bed and walks over to the side of the room where he picks a small velvet black box out of his desk drawer on the other side of the room. He’s stuttering. He stutters when he’s nervous…

I gasp when he walks back over and kneels by the bed, facing me. “Diego…” I clutch my chest and sit up and look down at him.

“Y/N, w-when we f-first met, I-I-I thought that I was j-just s-saving a l-life. W-when we crossed paths ag-g-gain that same y-year… I thought a m-m-miracle happened. I s-started b-believing in a-angels.” He stops himself as tears well into his eyes. “I p-promised I w-wasn’t going to get ch-cheesy.”

Tears start welling up in my eyes as well. “Keep going. Just picture the word in your head like your mom tells you to!”

He keeps his smile and teary eyes at me. “I… yeah, I s-started b-b-believing in a-a-angels, b-b-because you are o-one. You made me see the beauty of l-life. You made me realise that there are good people in this w-world. I saved your life, and then you saved m-m-mine. Y/N… will you marry me?”

“Oh Diego…” I sobbed. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes!” I leaned over to give him probably the sloppiest kiss I’ve ever given anyone. My tears of joy made me lose control. I cannot stress enough to him how happy and surprised I am over this.

I hear him let out a blubber as he attempts kissing me back.

---

Diego and I spend the rest of the morning taking a nap. We plan on telling his siblings and his mom about the engagement tonight at the academy.

Suddenly, someone comes in through the door. This wakes us both up.

Before I can register reality again, I hear Diego groan his brother’s name. “Klaus.” He rubs one of his eyes. “What are you doing here? Y/N and I already told you that we’ll see you tonight.”

“Oh, I know, big brother!” he grins. “I just wanted to congratulate you two beforehand.” I see him smirking at our uncovered bodies on the bed.

I immediately pull up the blanket to place on both Diego and I.

Klaus giggles. “I get it! You want your moment. I just wanted to also let Y/N know that was why I was acting so weird when she came over last night.”

I look at Diego and beam up with a smile. “Klaus was acting weird because you told him that you were going to propose to me?”

Diego shamefully smirks and confirms this with a, “Yep.”

“Oh my God, Diego!” I hug him. “Awww! You’re a softie. You shared with your brother about proposing to me.”

“He was rather excited!” Klaus chimes in. “I thought you’d like to see how sensitive my brother is after all. You two are going to be really happy, I can see it. Also, he said that you complained about this place having no windows.” He eyes the room in disgust. “I can’t blame you! How do you put up with it? He somehow built a house for you two…and maybe for the little ones as well, hmm.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Klaus!” Diego snaps. “Get out of here and go lick a 9-volt battery to grow some pubes. You’ve got some growing up to do!”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that one again! I may be high but—”

“Klaus!” Diego clenched his jaw.

“Alright alright, I’m going I’m going,” Klaus looks over at me and shakes his head over a shared laugh at Diego. He turns to the door. He mutters something along the lines of, ‘Sheesh! Mr. Sensitive right here.’

The heavy door slams shut. He’s gone.

I gaze at Diego.

He looks at me and rolls his eyes. “Now you think I’m too soft...”

“No, I think you’re soft just enough. I’m so happy we’re getting out of the boiler room! And you built a house!? For us?” I exclaim.

Diego smiles. “I thought that you would love that, babe.” He kisses me softly. “I’m still gonna come here when I’m on a mission though. You have to let me have that.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Fine. Whatever. I just have to see this house!”

“You got it,” he takes my hand and kisses the top of it.

“Also, I have to say… Klaus isn’t wrong. We are going to be so happy together.”

He gives me a genuine smile. “Yeah, that’s one thing I’ll agree with Klaus on.” He leans over and places his lips on mine. We give each other lazy sleepy kisses before falling back asleep.

[sol1056]

Can you explain why LGBT representation is so important and why Voltron's negative portrayal of LGBT characters/rep should be scorned as harshly as it has been? I'm trying to prove a point to a friend and they don't get why representation has to be as important as we're making it.

Oh, this is a huge topic, and one I’m not sure I could do justice to, all by myself. Given that, this time I’ll let people speak for themselves. Anyone else reading (and I know a whole lot of you are out there) who’ve valued representation – regardless as to whether you relate to the character as a lived experience – feel free to add your thoughts, or links to any other articles, podcasts, or videos you’re recommend.

Fabricio Leal Cogo, Why Queer Representation Matters

I remember growing up here in Brazil and not seeing anyone like me portrayed on TV—or at least, not anyone with a similarly complex inner life. The few times I saw gays on TV, they were always a punchline in a comedy—a source of laughter. Many people, I’m sure, are probably thinking: It’s just a joke, right?

But representation matters.

It’s impossible to overstate the power of being able to identify with a public figure, particularly when that figure is actually seen in the fullest sense. As Michael Morgan, a former professor emeritus at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and a researcher on media effects, told the Huffington Post earlier this year, “When you don’t see people like yourself, the message is: You’re invisible. The message is: You don’t count. And the message is: ‘There’s something wrong with me.’” He continued: “Over and over and over, week after week, month after month, year after year, it sends a very clear message, not only to members of those groups, but to members of other groups, as well.”

Uma Dodd, Queerbaiting And The Issue Of LGBT Representation In The Media:

Of the 125 movies released by major US studios in 2016, the media monitoring organisation GLAAD found that only 23 (18.4%) contained characters who identified as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer – an increase of less than 1% from the previous year. … It’s insulting, and often quite disheartening, to be told that you’re only worth the three lines of dialogue and five minutes of screen time that the one LGBT character in a film might have, just because of your sexuality or gender.

Queerbaiting relies solely on subtext and the subsequent interpretation of it by fans, and as a result, creates the perfect paradox: writers are able to attract an LGBT audience with vague promises of representation, implied by the text and often encouraged by the writer, but will then never actually confirm or explicitly show said representation, reducing the amount of effort that has to be put in on their part.

You may say that I’m blowing this issue out of proportion, but that too, is a part of the problem. Because queerbaiting is based on purely subtextual hints, any evidence of it, no matter how blatant it might seem to the viewer/reader, is often insubstantial and difficult to quantify. This allows writers and cast members to dismiss the anger of LGBT fans as simple overreaction and, as a result, makes any legitimate pleas for better representation easier to ignore.

Another by-product that has resulted out of increasing calls for better LGBT representation is implied representation. This is where writers will claim that a character is LGBT but never explicitly show this within the TV show, film, or novel.  This is a method which has been employed by many creators of famous franchises, and it allows them to insert that token bit of representation which makes them look good, without ever actually providing said representation explicitly … Not only does this result in LGBT characters, once again, being shoved into the background – and often killed off for shock value – it raises the question: is this kind of representation good enough?

…Whilst any representation of non-heteronormative characters is a good start, this way of representing us can’t be allowed to become the norm – we deserve to be explicitly shown in the media as much as anyone else does. We need better representation and we need to be shown that not all LGBT characters have to remain in the closet, because what kind of a message is that sending to those young people out there who are currently questioning their sexuality?

B. Whiteside, 6 Reasons It’s Important to Have LGBT Characters on Children’s TV Shows:

A recent study by the Williams Institute at UCLA revealed that nearly 6 million adults and children have an LGBT parent. There are more than 125,000 same-sex couple households with nearly 220,000 children under the age 18. These children go to school and are active members of their communities. Their identities and home life deserve to be portrayed and represented just as much as anyone else’s.

Being a child can be tough, especially when one can’t identify with anyone around them. There are children and young adults alike who identify as LGBT or have parents who do so. Having content that mirrors their lives can, in fact, save their own. It isn’t always easy for children to articulate what’s wrong or what they need. So it can be a tremendous help to see their favorite character in their same predicament live out their life and truth.

Aristeaus Sizer, We Need To Talk About LGBT Representation, Apparently:

…since Cinderella, there have been 11 Disney princesses. All of which have been heterosexual, and the majority of them married by the end of their film. There is no shortage of straight princesses in this world, so why would it be such a crime for one of them to be LGBTQ? If anyone is forcing any agenda down anybody’s throats, Mary, it is you and your heteronormative agenda.

As a heterosexual, and I don’t mean to patronise here it’s simply the truth, you cannot understand in full capacity how important representation is. Seeing yourself on screen in a genuine, non-caricature form is hugely validating. When I was a kid I thought being gay was like doing drugs, it was a fun choice you made when you wanted to spice things up, and that all came from the films I had seen and how sordid LGBTQ people were portrayed as being. Then, later on into my teenage years, I thought I’d never be able to show public displays of affection without violent repercussion. Again, this was because of the media I had consumed telling me this. Films and media may not dictate our personalities, but they tell us how much of it we should hide, and the implicit message when you have an entire franchise of heterosexuals is that anything other should be kept underground, out of sight.

…we’ve been everywhere for so long you’ve just never noticed. Primarily because every movie and every advert and every t.v show and every animated cartoon is packed to the brim with straight people. LGBTQ people deserve representation because there’s far more of us than you think. … To you, it’s just a gay Disney princess where there could have been another straight one, but to someone that princess is the validation they needed that they aren’t some abomination or sinful mistake. They’re valid, they’re wonderful, and they have every right to love and be loved.

Danielle Cox, The Importance of LGBT Representation in Media:

[In 2016, GLAAD’s annual] shows the highest percentage of LGBT characters on our televisions … [but] when more than twenty-five of those characters are killed off in the same year, we know there is still a lot of work to be done. In fact, GLAAD President and CEO Sarah Kate Ellis released a statement saying, “When the most repeated ending for a queer woman is violent death, producers must do better to question the reason for a character’s demise and what they are really communicating to the audience.” When this ending is repeated in show after show and character after character, we can’t help but think the message they are sending is about the worth of our LGBT characters or rather lack thereof. 

James Dawson, The importance of LGBT visibility in children’s books:

I was unaware gay people even existed and, when puberty hit, found myself more than a little lost. I so dearly wish there had been just one book with a character who was a bit like me – just a normal teenage guy who happened to be gay. I would have especially loved one whose sexuality did not define him.

I just know that had there been a diverse range of people like me in books when I was growing up, I wouldn’t have felt abnormal for all those years, which I see now, overwhelmingly, I am not. In 2014, it’s my hope that all young LGBT people can see themselves in fiction and recognise there is a place for them in the world.

Palmer Haasch, “Yuri!!! On Ice” and the importance of positive LGBTQ representation:

Despite my resigned certainty that I was about to be drawn in by the potential of a queer relationship only to be disappointed for the umpteenth time, Yuri!!! On Ice managed to exceed all of my expectations. In the end, the show delivered a thoughtful portrayal of two men developing a deep and trusting romantic relationship that provides LGBTQ viewers with representation of queer individuals being happy together above all else, which is something that we desperately need.

For me, it was the first piece of entertainment media I had seen that didn’t present queer individuals as “other,” but allowed them to simply freely love and exist. While watching, I didn’t have to worry about whether Yuuri or Victor would be outed in an unsafe environment or if Yuuri was going to be unfairly judged on the ice because of his sexuality like so many real life figure skaters have feared in the past. Rather, I fretted over when they were finally going to kiss (because really, it was a long time coming) and if I was ever going to get to see the wedding that was hinted at by their matching gold rings.

Although it is true that the discrimination-free world of Yuri!!! On Ice isn’t realistic (yet), it can help reassure queer individuals like me that they can experience love in the same way as anyone else. At the same time, it provides a glimpse of a future where being queer doesn’t mean being “other”. And that notion is something that I will always work towards and protect.

Additional reading:

Why Visibility Matters

Make Them Gay: Why Queer Representation Matters

Why LGBT Representation Is Important In Media

We Need More Than Visibility

Why It’s Important To Make More Diverse LGBT Films

Queer Representation in the Media

Why Television Needs More LGBT Characters

Importance of LGBT Representation