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bitchineering · 3 years ago

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Lets go! Day 1: Let’s learn HOW the frick to study

So this I think is the most important thing to do and really it is insane that in the United States (which is where I am from by the way) students have no idea on how to freaking study. Honestly all of this gets me incredibly frustrated because with the internet we have the ability to share information and I’ll tell you that I am one of those people who have scavenged the internet and picked apart what I could find. Here’s another big problem: not everything someone does will work for you.

Also just the spread of dumb study information is pretty terrible. If I do counter anything I will leave a paper or my citation just because I believe in putting down sources and showing others how to research and why citing is freakin important.

Let’s get started: I’m going to summarize everything that will be in here for a second

1. Find your method of studying, find out everything. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING. You need to write down how you study (the different types of study people) but also the classes because people study sciences different than humanities.

2. Find out your most productive state. If this means it is you at 2 am in a suit and jacket than that means you need to leave procrastination station and be studying during that time. Now I am not totally okay with people studying in a suit for one it is uncomfortable, I think a jeans and a clean tshirt is just as good. If you can be productive in sweatpants or pjs then go for it. I know I am not and it doesn’t work when I dress for relaxation.

Okay, I’ll be going into more in depth of mainly the first one but a bit of the second.

To start off the bat, if you have time watch this lecture https://youtu.be/IlU-zDU6aQ0 by Marty Lobdell. You have probably heard the saying before and one thing that makes me so frustrated within the study community is that others use this statment without giving any real examples. I feel like Lobdell does this as well as he doesn’t describe note taking and I do believe before putting down a material, you have to take notes. (All he mentions is handwriting notes and I do believe in that. You cannot really type notes and expect to learn the material).

Another source I would suggest is the Vark Quiz (https://vark-learn.com/the-vark-questionnaire/) Learn what type you are (I’m a Kinesthetic!) and read what they give you. I’m not going to say you will perfectly match with your description but if you are starting from ground zero, this is an amazing place to see what might work for you instead of you having to come up with different technques on your own.

I get so annoyed when people use the pomodoro method as a way to study. It is not a way to study. It is a way to schedule your study time. Also, I don’t think you can do much in 25 minutes or maybe it is just me. Usually I work for an hour or 50 minutes and then take a ten minute break. All you need to do is find out what works for you.

Okay let’s get into classes, first there is an amazing youtuber named Nathan Wu who made this video (https://youtu.be/pdAt8JhBnMU and there is a part 2 but I’ll let you guys find it). He is a very good study youtuber that I do like to watch sometimes and I do appriciate that he is spreading correct information. I can give you guys an example of what worked for me in some of my classes (I also just wanna say I won’t be putting my grades on here nor anything really. I don’t feel comfortable being compared to others because I already have to deal with it at my own institution and peers. Please don’t compare yourself to others).

Chemistry (Wu also does include this subject in his video):

- Write notes and explanations for the love of god. Like please just write notes.

- Also apply those notes. If you are confused in one area ask someone for help whether that be your teacher or someone else.

-I would say to use flashcards, but I’m honestly a big quizlet user (I haven’t used Anki I’m a little weird and I get so annoyed when I use something that is popular. I sadly give off the “i’m not like other girls vibe”). When I use quizlet every time I get an answer wrong I write down the definition. I can explain this more because you can do this with notecards as well and probably Anki but I like the mobility of quizlet.

-Labs... I do like doing some labs. I miss my older ones from Honors Chemistry, I barely do good labs in AP Chemistry, but at the same time you have to do them. This could be for any science class because knowing how to apply your information is the best way to test your knowledge that isn’t practice questions (If you need labs look up a virtual simulation. While it isn’t the same thing they are usually free and if not you can find some on youtube).

- Practice problems (this more or less goes with your grading point instead of studying. While I do believe the overall goal in studying is that you understand and can apply the topic tests are so different in many things). As stated before I have taken Honors Chemistry, so I used test prep from my teacher and was able to form questions similar to how she asked them on the quiz. In AP Chemistry I’ve been able to use the online resources from other teachers and AP Classroom. I will say AP Chemistry it is much harder to write my own questions because AP Chemistry is just really hard in general, but finding FRQ practices I believe is one of the best ways you can work on it (Honestly it may be just me but doing FRQs or written essays for answers is so much better than multiple choice because this allows you to practice giving explanations and learning where your gap of knowledge is).

Another study technique I like to do is called the Feynmann technique. This is such a great way to apply knowledge without doing test prep because you need to essentially master your subject before test prep. This method includes creating a study plan for someone else, you need to teach someone else (or something else) what you’re learning and have them ask questions. Know I know this doesn’t really work well for some people including myself because I don’t really have others to talk to when I study but talk to yourself. (sometimes I talk to a ghost or a plushie in my room. I have little trinkets on my desk of which a tiger egg and a Chick Fil A cow plushie wearing a sunflower dress. Just try it, it might seem weird but you got to). If you can’t have others ask you questions say everything you can remember (and maybe do this on a google doc with the voice chat box open, I would say record yourself but I hate hearing my own recordings). Then, once you have finished look through your notes and see what you got correct and what you got wrong. If you did use a google docs then write what you meant to say like: “I said this... but this was incorrect because of this...”

For study schedule or something related to studying I would say watch these videos: https://youtu.be/-m2Ua5Y0mzc and https://youtu.be/OYuhkaOPKcM. Both are by youtubers who I do like to watch and follow what they do. I would say to look through Alicia’s youtube a bit more if you like electronic organization AND the true studyblr (girl can do beautiful calligraphy). I believe I align more with Keo Tsang, who studies later at night rather than earlier than the morning. Tsang does get more hours of sleep than me (haha). If you are in high school please don’t do what he does though. I try to go to bed by midnight because then I’ll get six hours of sleep, and I can sleep on the bus (it takes me an hour to get to school). I also have a free first period where I can sleep if I need to or catch up on work from last night if I didn’t do it. I do like to work when there is sunlight but also coming home from school and taking a detox or a break is so much better for my mental health. I know it will be different when in university but I’d just say this to any high school student, please do a mental detox. Don’t go on social media and scroll endlessly maybe listen to some music, read a book, take a walk/run, my sister would bake after a long stressful day and her food- while not the best- got her in a good mood.

I think this is all I’ll write today. I still need to do so much work myself haha but I am a big procrastinator and also I did have a break down a little while ago. Just know you are worth everything and in the end, every problem is going to have some type of solution even if there is no solution. Your life doesn’t need to be answered today or tomorrow so let’s work on becoming better students one step at a time :)

#studyblr #ap chemistry #how to learn #notes #study schedule #I just know realized I didn't do a study schedule example IG ill do that tomorrow if anyone wants it #youtube recomendations #studyblr youtubers #Bruh I have so many youtubers who I just want to recommend and say please watch them and how amazing they are #school #high school #university #organization and planning #student #studying #study notes #study motivation

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donutdrawsthings · 4 years ago

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NO THIS POST IS NOT A DISCUSSION FORUM. EITHER KEEP SCROLLING OR VIBE WITH THE REST OF US

I thought I had already been clear on what my stance was on the matter, but after today I feel like I need to yell it off the top of my lungs. I SUPPORT ROETVEEG PIET AND BLM. LISTEN TO BLACK VOICES AND ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR WRONGS.

(Information about the Dutch holiday and why it’s racist under the cut! includes extern sources and images!)

Summary

Sinterklaas is a Dutch tradition that starts at the first Saturday after 11 November and ends at 5 December. A figure called Sint Nicholaas comes on a boat from Spain to the Netherlands to celebrate his birthday on the 5th with his little helpers, the Zwarte Pieten. The Zwarte Pieten give candy to the kids and on the 5th kids get a gift from Sinterklaas.

The Racism (Black Pete)

All sounds fairly innocent, until you see what the Zwarte Pieten look like.

These are the traditional Zwarte Pieten (it translates to Black Petes btw). These individuals are usually played by white people and are purposely darkened to black with red lipstick, black curly hair and sometimes golden earrings. I have always been told the dark skin was to represent “soot” from the chimneys, however, up until recent years there was no effort made to actually appear as smeared. In fact, a lot of effort was put into making sure not a single speck of light skin was visible because that could ruin the illusion. (the illusion being, hiding your identity behind blackface.)

These characters are also played to be playful, hyperactive, carefree, happy to do their work and often praise Sinterklaas himself. Which are all traits often depicted alongside the “happy slave” stereotype from way back when and the S*mbo stereotype.

other racist depictions are also on display in stores and houses (often on display near a window for kids to see) in the form of little Black Petes, most of them resembling the G*lliw*g. (first image is a common window prop during Sinterklaas, the second image is the racist G*lliw*g)

This very outdated depiction of black people only really started being questioned in the early 2010′s. However, support for questioning Black Pete only started to become somewhat acceptable around 2016/2017... And even then the public has been largely Pro Black Pete until 2020, after the Black Lives Matter movement also started to become a valid topic of discussion in the Netherlands.

The Transition

Between 2010 and 2020 a lot happened since Black Pete officially got taken into question and talk about whether or not Black Pete should be changed started to become a genuine topic of discussion. When the question first rang, the majority of the Dutch folk were against the change. I was against this change as well. I think I should note that I was around 13 at the time and it is a very common phenomenon for kids to mimic the opinion of their parents and teachers. But this indeed a genuine opinion I had at some point and I acknowledge that with full responsibility.

The main reasons everyone was against this change was because we did not see it as racist and were convinced the “goal” with this movement was to entirely remove Pete from the holiday or remove the holiday as a whole from the list.

I would also like to note that the Dutch folk’s opinion on what is and isn’t racist is very outdated as well. (As I write this now in 2020 it is still not a whole lot better but around the 2010′s it was definitely worse.) As this topic gained attraction, jokes about black men having huge dicks (the m*and*ngo stereotype), “watering the Africans” and much more were made to me and other people regularly enough to be normal or at the very least, were seen as a bit of a cheeky thing to say. And despite being a multicultural country, Asian people were still referred to as “Chinese”, Native Americans as “Indians” and Islamic women as “Penguins” as well.

But back on the topic. As the years went on, more and more protests against Black Pete gained attraction and by now parents started to use these protests as another reason to be against the change because “they are ruining it for the kids” White parents would also start to praise the word of their 1 black colleague/friend for being against the change as well.

When the topic started to become more prominent, people made the attempt to change the Black of a Black Pete to another colour. This created the short lived bizarre creation of Rainbow Pete. (also seen in the picture above)

Rainbow Pete was a very short lived idea and was considered weird by many. However, I personally do believe this was an important step in the transition. Rainbow Pete took the depersonalisation tied to Black Pete and quite literally, showed its true colours. It’s ehhh hard to explain what “A Pete” is in English. But growing up I never considered them as human, nor were they ever explained to me as ACTUALLY being human. They are just described as a Pete, and a Pete is all they are. They aren’t people who can have other jobs in Spain or can travel the world to find something else to do. They are a Pete, and therefore they will always be with Sinterklaas in Spain, making toys for us, giving us candy and then going back to Spain with Sinterklaas again.

And that’s why I think this odd colour change was so important. Because by making them green or blue or pink it properly showed how ALIEN Petes felt. Like a whole other species. It tied a certain uncomfortable environment to the depersonalisation and after it’s short lived appearance, Soot Smudge Pete was a much easier step to make

Soot Smudge Pete, or in Dutch known as Roetveeg Pete, is the most recent and most inclusive variant of the Petes. This Pete only requires a few dark smudges to mimic actual soot and can be played by all races.

in 2018/19 Soot Petes started to become more present in the official parades, which a lot of parents were rather disgusted about. I personally think this is the period in which a lot of people just straight up outed themselves as racist, actively being against “White Pete” and actively longing for the “Real Petes” to return. Even with these Petes slowly becoming more popular, it is still not safe for most people who are against Black Pete to discuss the matter with Pro Black Pete individuals in this time period. Pro Black Pete individuals (often family or coworkers) more often than not become very heated when the topic arises and I cannot say I’ve ever seen the same attitude from people who are against Black Pete.

Present Day

In 2020, thanks to the Black Lives Matter movement, it has become way more socially acceptable to support Soot Smudge Pete. Parents who are still Pro Black Pete are still vocally voicing their disgust every time Soot Petes are present instead of Black Petes and much like what happened to me back then, their opinions also seep through onto their children. With these people still present in Sinterklaas spaces it also sadly occurs they press their believes on Soot Petes by giving them too much soot and still giving them a black, curly wig.

However, with the way things are going right now and the positive, multicultural depiction present in the media, I believe we are finally on our way to a more positive environment for kids of all kinds of backgrounds!

Afterthoughts

This whole post sparked after I dealt with a nasty situation myself while playing a Soot Pete at my old Elementary school. I really wanted to play this role to tie a more positive view on Soot Petes with all the parents creating such a negative environment around the Sinterklaas times and thought I could take matters into my own hands. However, I was Sooted up by a Pro Black Pete mother and thus, nearly got as dark as my brown hair. (besides that I also have gender issues and despite the school knowing I’m called Josh, put me in a dress outfit,, but that’s a more personal issue) I was able to wipe most of it off by the time the kids came in, but not without sharing some discouraging words with my mother, who told me to “just suck it up”.

It’s really important to me for people to know how Bad stuff like that still is in this country and I just... don’t understand why people would still support Black Pete after all this time. These people are either friends, family, or just kind people I know and love who around November open their mouths to say the most vile things and create such a sour situation for everyone involved. And after Black Pete is proven to be racist time and time again, still supporting it... It makes me wonder if this has to do with pride more than anything.

No one wants to be called a racist, but is it really that hard to acknowledge some of the shit you said and did was just plain wrong to the point that you’re taking your opinion to new extremes and decide to die on a sinking ship..?

I’ve said racist things. I have compared the curly black hair of a Black Pete to black classmates. I have compared Black Pete to black classmates. I have joked about them not needing to be face painted to be just like Black Pete. I have made those connections and I’m ashamed I did. But you do what you can to deal with it and become better for those around you. You listen to black voices, support black artists and black businesses and become better as a person. We need to start acknowledging how much our society is actually structured to belittle and undervalue black people and you can’t do that when you’re THAT far up your own ass.

phew... anyways. Black Lives Matter! Don’t use tradition to defend racism! Fijne Pakjesavond!!

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dirk-has-rabies · 4 years ago

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Gender variance and it's link with neurodivergency

Okay so this is it going to be another long one

All quotes will be sourced with a link to the scientific journal I took it from

Okay Tumblr, let's talk gender (I know, your favorite topic) my preface on why this topic matters to me is: I'm autistic ( diagnosed moderate to severe autism) I'm nonbinary trans ( in a way that most non-autistic people don't understand and actually look down on) and I went to college for gender study ( Mostly for intersex studies but a lot of my research was around non-binary and trans identities) I will be using the term autism as pants when I have experience with however when ADHD is part of the study I will use ND which stands for neurodivergent and yes this is going to be about xenogenders and neopronouns.

autism can affect gender the same way autism can affect literally every part of an identity. a big thing about having autism is the fact that it completely can change how you view personhood and time and object permanence and gender and literally all types of socially constructed ideas. let me also say hear that just because Society creates and enforces an idea does it mean that it doesn't exist to all people it just me that there is no nature law saying that it's real and the “rules” for these ideas can change and delete and create as time and Society evolves and changes. gender is one of those constructs.

Now I'll take it by you reading this you know what transgender people are (if you don't understand what a trans person is send me an ask and I'll type you up a pretty little essay lmao, or Google it but that's a scary thought sense literally any Source or website can come up on Google including biased websites so be careful I guess LOL) anyway to be super basic trans people are anyone who doesn't identify as the gender they were assigned at Birth (yes that includes non-binary people I could do a whole nother essay about that shit how y'all keep spreading trying to separate non-binary people from the trans umbrella) some people don't like to use the label and that is totally fine by the way.

now autistic people to view the world in a way differently than allistic (neurotypical) ppl do. we don't take everything people teach us at 100% fact and we tend to question everything and demand proof and evidence for things before we can set it as a fact in our brains. This leads to why a lot of autistic people are atheist (although a lot of religions and this is not bashing on religious people at all I am actually a Jewish convert) this questioning leads to a lot of social constructs being ignored or not understood At All by a lot of autistic people and personally I think that's a good thing. allistics take everything their parents and teachers and schools teach them as fact until someone else says something and then they pick which ones to believe. autistic people study and research and learn about a topic before forming an opinion and while this may lead to them studying and believing very biased material and spitting it out as fact it can also lead them to try and Discover it is real by themselves.

because of this autistic people are more question their gender or not fall in a binary way at all as the concept of gender makes no sense to a lot of us. “ if gender is a construct then autistic people who are less aware of social norms are less likely to develop a typical gender identity”

no really look: “ children and teens with autism spectrum disorder ASD or Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder ADHD are much more likely to express a wish to be the opposite sex compared with their typical developing peers” That was posted in 2014. we have been saying this stuff forever but no one wants to listen. the thing is gender variance (being not cisgender or at least questioning it) has always been closely hand-in-hand with autistic and ADHD people I'm even the doctor who did that study understood right away that it all made sense the whole time: “ Dr. Strang said they were initially surprised to find an overrepresentation of gender variance among children with ADHD. However, they later realized that prior studies have shown increased levels of disruptive behavior and other behavioral problems among young people with gender variance” SEE YOURE NOT WEIRD YOURE JUST YOU AND YOURE NOT ALONE IN THIS!!

5% autistic people who did the study were trans or questioning. it was also equal between the Sexes fun fact. that may not seem like a lot till you realize that the national average is only .7% that's literally over 700% higher than the national average. That's so many! and that's just in America.

in Holland there was a study in 2010 “ nearly 8% of the more than 200 Children and adolescents referred to a clinic for gender dysphoria also came up positive on a assessment for ASD” they weren't even testing for ADHD so the numbers could be even higher!

now I want to talk about a certain section of the trans umbrella that a lot of autistic people fall under called the non-binary umbrella. non-binary means anything that isn't just male or just female. it is not one third gender and non-binary doesn't mean that you don't have a gender. just clearing that up since cis people keep spreading that. non-binary is an umbrella term for any of the infinite genders you could use or create. now this is where I'm going to lose a bunch of you and that's okay because you don't have to understand our brains or emotions To respect us as real people. not many allistics can understand how we see and think and relate to things and that's okay you don't have to understand everything but just reading about this could be so much closer to respecting us for Who We Are from you've ever been and that's better than being against us just for existing.

now you might have heard of my Mutual Lars who was harassed by transmeds for using the term Autigender (I was going to link them but if it gets traction I don't want them to get any hate) since a lot of people roll their eyes at that and treated them disgustingly for using a term that 100% applied correctly. Autigender is described as " a neurogender which can only be understood in the context of being autistic or when one's autism greatly affects one's gender or how one experiences gender. Autigender is not autism as a gender, but rather is a gender that is so heavily influenced by autism that one's autism and one's experience of gender cannot be unlinked.” Now tell me that doesn't sound a lot like this entire essay I've been working on with full sources…..

xenogenders and neopronouns are a big argument point on whether or not people “believe” in non binary genders but a big part of those genders is that they originated from ND communities and are ways that we can try to describe what gender means us in a way that cis or even allistic trans people just can't comprehend or ever understand. Same with MOGAI genders or sexualities. A lot of these are created as a way to somehow describe an indescribable relationship with gender that is so personal you really cant explain it to anyone who isnt literally the same as you.

Even in studies done with trans autistic people a large amount of them dont even fall on a yes or no of having a gender at all and fall in some weird inbetween where you KINDA have a gender but its not a gender in the sense that others say it is but its also too much of a gender so say youre agender. And this is the kind of stuff that confuses allistic trans people and makes them think nonbinary genders are making stuff up for attention, which isnt true at all we just cant explain what it feels like to BE a trans autistic person to anyone who doesnt ALREADY know how it feels.

In this study out of the ppl questioned almost HALF of the autistic trans individuals had a “Sense of identity revolving around interests” meaning their gender and identity was more based off what they liked rather than boy or girl. That makes ppl with stuff like vampgender or pupgender make a lot more sense now doesnt it? We see that even in the study: “My sense of identity is fluid, just as my sense of gender is fluid […] The only constant identity that runs through my life as a thread is ‘dancer.’ This is more important to me than gender, name or any other identifying features… even more important than mother. I wouldn't admit that in the NT world as when I have, I have been corrected (after all Mother is supposed to be my primary identification, right?!) but I feel that I can admit that here. (Taylor)” and an agreement from another saying “Mine is Artist. Thank you, Taylor. (Jessie)” now dont you think if they grew up with terms like artistgender or dancergender they would just YOINK those up right away????

In fact “An absence of a sense of gender or being unsure of how their gender should “feel” was another common report” because as ive said before in this post AUTISTIC PEOPLE DONT SEE GENDER THE WAY ALLISTIC PEOPLE SEE IT. therefore we wont use the same terms or have the same identities nor could we explain it to anyone who doesnt already understand or question the same way! Participants even offered up quotes such as “As a child and even now, I don't ‘feel’ like a gender, I feel like myself and for the most part I am constantly trying to figure out what that means for me (Betty)” and also “I don't feel like a particular gender I'm not even sure what a gender should feel like (Helen)”

Now i know this isnt going to change everyones minds on this stuff but i can only hope that it at least helped people feel like theyre not broken and not alone in their feelings about this. You dont have to follow allistic rules. You dont have to stop searching inside for who you really wanna be. And you dont have to pick or choose terms forever because just as you grow and evolve so may your terms. Its okay to not know what or who you are and its okay to identify as nonhuman things or as your interests because what you love and what you do is a big part of who you are and shapes you everyday. Its not a bad thing! Just please everyone, treat ppl with respect and if you dont understand something that doesnt make it bad or wrong it just means its not for you. And thats okay.

#autism #actuallyautistic #trans #nonbinary #xenogenders #neopronouns #lgbtq #adhd #nuerodivergent #gender identity

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raindancer2004 · 4 years ago

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Unloved and Unwanted?

Word Count: 4,169 Felix x reader Part Five Warnings: Fluff, NSFW

Y/N still struggled with feedings and her thirst and felt like she was letting Felix down; like she wasn’t good enough to be the mate of an elite guard. Felix noticed that Y/N was pulling away from him but didn’t know why until he overheard a conversation between her and Demetri “Hey Y/N, how are doing?” Demetri asked and noticed her eyes filled with venom and she lowered her head “I’m struggling and feel like I’m letting everyone down…that I’m letting him down” She replied low and he knew who Y/N meant as he too had noticed her pulling away from Felix. Demetri carefully placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her head “You have let no one down, especially not him. Is this why you have been distancing yourself from him?” She nodded “He deserves someone better…someone who doesn’t struggle with-with this life” “The way you were bought into this life wasn’t ideal and could be why you are struggling Y/N, I mean you and Felix were getting along so well and had discussed him turning you and that plan was taken away from you both. You cannot blame yourself if you struggle, no one wakes up a perfect newborn you know” He said softly “Really? Do you remember what you like as a newborn?” She asked “You trying to say I’m too old to remember?” He feigned a hurt expression “Maybe…” She winked at him and he chuckled “I was ready to tear into any human that I came across, even if it meant exposing my creator and myself. Amun, my creator decided to focus on helping me hone my tracking gift as a way to…distract me from the blood lust…” “Did it work?” She cut him off and he chuckled “Eventually. I was too focused on perfecting my gift and didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. It also helped that I was able to hunt whenever I wanted and didn’t have to feed in a room of full people. I used to make a mess as a newborn, but that also got better over time, now there’s no mess when I feed whether it be here in the castle or when away on missions” He replied “It’s nice to know that I’m not the only messy newborn” Demetri nodded at her and watched as Felix approached them being careful not to spook his newborn mate. “Y/N…may I?” He gestured to the space beside her on the bench and she nodded “I heard you two talking and I want to you to know you haven’t let me down. I’m proud of you and am very pleased to have you as my mate. Just let me help you…please” Felix said as he held her small hands in his larger ones and bought them to his lips, placing a kiss to them. She looked up at him, eyes still filled with venom and nodded slowly “Demetri and I will take you hunting away from the city until you have better control and are comfortable enough to feed with the rest of us” She nodded at Felix “I will train one on one with you away from the other guards” Demetri offered smiling “Really? You two would do that…for me?” “Yes, little one we would. I would anything for you” Felix replied “Me too cara…and besides I love a good hunt” Demetri added with a wink, Y/N laughed “Thank you, both of you.” “You more than welcome sweetheart” Demetri added.

The following day Demetri and Felix took Y/N hunting outside of the city, somewhere far from the castle. They came across a campsite where four humans sat around a fire talking, one of the men got up “I’m going for a piss” Y/N growled and went to move towards the three campers when Felix’s large hand gripped her throat “Not yet, little one” Y/N hissed at her mate and Demetri chuckled “Patience cara” and he took hold of her hand, hoping she wouldn’t crush it “Why?” She growled “We need to wait till the other one is far enough way before I let you loose, after all there are three of them and three of us” Felix replied low in her ear “You can have the spare human too” Demetri added with a smile. A few moments later Felix’s grip eased “Now” They all ran forward Y/N taking the red-haired female by surprise when she felt a cold hand wrap around her throat. The human was writhing beneath Y/N so much, that it wasn’t an efficient kill nor was it a clean kill “You look like a messy child” Demetri teased “Fuck off!” Y/N growled, baring her teeth and Demetri flinched “Language! Little one” Felix called out “Fuck off please!” Y/N growled back at the pair of them, Demetri chuckled and Felix shook his head “Not what I meant” He said looking her, earning another growl from her.

They arrived back at the castle and were greeted by Jane and Alec “How did the hunt go?” Jane asked Demetri “Y/N’s method needs work but she’ll get there” He replied “Maybe give her a bib next time” Alec chuckled “Fuck off Alec” Y/N hissed and Felix growled beside her “Please” Y/N added and walked off, the twins looked confused “Y/N told me to fuck off whilst we were out and Felix chastised her for it by saying ‘language’ to which Y/N replied fuck off please” Demetri explained, not bothering to hide his smirk “That wasn’t what I meant and she knows it” Felix added “So Y/N swears politely as a result?” Jane asked, amusement clear in her voice and Demetri nodded smiling “Interesting little newborn” Alec smirked.

Demetri loved Y/N when she was his human friend as she introduced him to new things and he liked seeing her experience stuff for the first time; he also liked that he could protect her as she was breakable, but now that she was a newborn, he loved her even more as she wasn’t as fragile but she was still his Y/N, his friend. He enjoyed training with her especially after he decided to train her to take down her mate Felix just for fun; something she quickly agreed to, happy to have a distraction from the constant bloodlust. Demetri was the only male Felix would allow to touch and train with Y/N as he knew how much he cared for her and that she’d be safe with him.

“Let’s show Felix what you have learnt over the past few weeks” Demetri smiled looking at Y/N, who nodded “Felix, would you mind?” She asked sweetly, giving him her best doe eyed look “Not at all, little one” Felix replied walking towards his mate ‘Poor bastard’ Demetri thought to himself, trying to hide his smile. Y/N was strong for a newborn and was looking forward to taking down the mountain of a man that was her mate. She ran at him jumping and wrapping both legs around his neck, his hands went straight to the base of her back, just above her ass as they hit the ground…hard. Y/N tried to roll away but Felix grabbed her leg but before he could do anything, she kicked out at him with her other foot, he cried out in pain as her foot connected with his neck. Y/N quickly got up and moved away from him a little, then kicked him with such force that he moved across the courtyard and flipped over onto his front. Y/N moved so fast, Demetri would have missed it had he been human, she stood on her mate’s back, one foot at the base of his neck, she grabbed his arms holding them upwards behind him, ready to pull them off. Felix growled low and Demetri watched as Y/N’s eyes turned black, a hiss broke past her lips as she pulled his arms further behind him “Y/N. Don’t” Demetri warned but it was too late, a cracking sound echoed through the courtyard as Y/N pulled both of Felix’s arms from his shoulders, Felix’s agonised cries seem to snap Y/N out of the newborn haze, Demetri wrapped his arms tightly around her torso “Drop them” He growled low and she did although she was thrashing about in the tracker’s arms trying to get free “What the hell Y/N?” Felix asked at the same time as Y/N asked “What have I done?” “You were supposed to take him down Y/N, subdue him but…you- you ripped his arms clean off” Demetri answered her and she stopped moving “Put me down” Demetri shook his head, his grip tightening slightly “PUT ME DOWN” She growled “Please” “It’s ok D, put her down” Felix said looking over his shoulder; Demetri released his hold and put her down. As soon as her feet touched the ground she ran to Felix, her knees beside his head. He looked up to see her eyes full of venom “I’m so sorry, really. It was supposed to be fun and I-I…” It’s ok Y/N. D can reattach them for me” “I’m so so sorry. Please don’t send me away Fe” Felix and Demetri both felt their undead hearts break “D. Hold her for me. Comfort her” Felix called out and Demetri didn’t hesitate he knelt beside her and took her into his arms “Sshh sshh. It’s ok. You’re ok sweetheart” He stroked her hair “I broke him” She sobbed into his chest “Only a bit but he’s a big boy. He'll survive” Demetri chuckled “Git” Felix said “Silver lining, Y/N you beat Felix in a fight and I, as your trainer am proud of you” Y/N chuckled “Thanks Dem. I guess I did win that one huh?” “Yes, you did little one” Felix said with a smile “Although, I’m beginning to rethink D training you.”

A wicked glint flashed through Y/N’s eyes as an idea popped into her head “I like training with Dem, he’s taught me a lot” She smiled at them, unwrapping Demetri’s arms from around her “Dem’s a very good teacher…he’s knowledgeable about a range of topics. I’d even go as far as saying he’s very experienced…” She trailed off, winking at them both before she took off running, laughing as she heard Felix growl “Felix. She’s teasing you. I only taught her how to fight…I promise” Demetri said to Felix looking worried “You gave me advice on how to…please him, remember Dem?” She said low in his ear, he hadn’t noticed she had ran in a circle and was now crouching behind him, Felix growled again “Demetri” “She asked for my advice…she was worried she couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to please you. I merely offered my friend some advice” Demetri shot her a glare and she giggled “Messing with you two is so much fun” She ran inside the castle laughing “Run Y/N” Demetri called out and took off after her, leaving Felix laying on the ground armless “Mates plus friends equals trouble” He said to low to himself.

The news of Y/N getting lost in the newborn haze and ripping her mate’s arms off travelled round the castle quickly after Santiago had discovered Felix outside and had offered to help him reattach them. The Kings found it rather amusing especially Caius “Feisty little newborn. I’m so proud” “He would be” Felix commented low and Alec snickered “I also heard Demetri gave your mate sex advice as part of her newborn training. I didn’t realise that was an option now. Maybe I should retake the newborn training class” Alec didn’t bother to hide the shit-eating grin on his face “Fuck off” Felix growled low “No please Felix?” Jane asked teasingly, Felix just growled deciding on ignoring the twins for a while.

Once Felix’s shift finished he made his way back to his room and locked the door. He felt Y/N’s arms wrap around him from behind, gently taking her hands in his he turns around in her arms and leans down capturing her lips with his own, she sighed and he slipped his tongue into her mouth and gently fought her for dominance which she allowed. She stood up on her tip toes hands resting on his shirt covered chest; he bent his knees a little and his hands rested on the back her thighs and lifted her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist “I want you little one” He softly whispered not wanting to ruin the moment “Really?” She asked taking her bottom lip between her teeth “Yes, little one. I would’ve taken you whilst you were human but we never got that close” He kissed her lips softly before placing her on the bed and knelt before her on the floor “Let me make you feel good…” He trailed off and she nodded at him causing him to smile at her. He ran his hands up her thighs moving her skirt up to reveal her lace panties and he placed a kiss to her lace covered centre before gently pushing her to lie down on the bed. He kept one hand on her stomach as he kissed her covered centre again before removing her panties and gently parting her thighs with his hands, placing his mouth over her clit and sucking and flicking the bundle of nerves. A breathless moan left her lips and he growled low, the sound vibrating against her and he gently slipped one finger inside her, moving it in and out of her a few times before adding a second finger “Ahh…Fe” He smiled against her and continued to suck and flick her clit with his tongue as his fingers moved within her bringing her closer to her release. He knew she was getting close as she writhed beneath him, he pressed his hand down a little harder on her stomach to keep her in place “Fe I’m so…” “Relax and cum for me baby” He purred low and pushed his fingers in a little deeper, hitting a new spot inside her, her walls clenching around his fingers and she came “Oh my god” She gripped the bedsheets and her head fell to the side as her eyes squeezed shut, “Oh” She moaned low as he kept sucking her clit as she came down from her high. He withdrew his fingers and placed them in his mouth tasting her before moving up the bed and whispering “You taste so good” He kissed her allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, he kissed along her jawline moving down to kiss just below her ear, she gasped as he rolled his hips against her. He continued to kiss her moving down her neck, gently sucking and nibling her skin.

“Felix” “Yes little one” “Make love to me…please” He didn’t answer her, instead he got off the bed and removed his clothes. He climbed back onto the bed hovering over her; pulling her up so he could remove her top and bra “So beautiful…and mine” He kissed her and laid her back down, quickly removing her skirt “Please Felix” She begged low and moved her hands up his chest over his shoulders and let her hands run down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin and he growled in her ear as he slipped into her easily; stilling for a few moments to allow her to adjust his long thick cock before he continued to ease into her until he was fully inside her, filling her completely. He stilled again loving how tight she felt around him “Move…Fe…please” She begged him low “So eager” He smiled against her skin as he pulled out of her slightly before slowly re-entering her “Ahh” She breathed out and her legs wrapped around him allowing him to slide in deeper “Felix” She cried out, lifting her hips a little to grind against him “Y/N” He growled her name, then his head dipped low to take a nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue “Oh…god” Her back arched up into him and he purred before switching breasts, thumb and finger rolling the other nipple. His thrusts became faster and harder as he chased his own release and felt her walls clench around him “Oh Y/N” He called out as he came inside her; her feeling every twitch of his hard member as he continued to thrust within her, riding out their orgasms together “I love you Y/N” “I love you too Felix” He stayed buried inside her and held her in his arms for a moment before she rolled them over “Up for another round handsome” She purred in his ear and began moving her hips over his, a breathless moan leaving his lips and she smiled down at him “I have nowhere else to be little one” He replied enjoying seeing his mate on top of him. She continued to move her hips over his as her fingers lightly scratched his chest, her head rolled back and her mouth open “Ahh” Felix’s hands moved up her thighs towards her hips, gently holding her as she lifted almost completely off of him before lowering herself back down “Fuck” They both cried out together “You feel so good inside me Fe” He thrusted up into her and she grinded against him “That’s because we were made to be together” She moved her hips over his faster, grinding against him each time, chasing her release, his hands moved and cupped her breasts squeezing lightly, thumbs brushing her nipples “FELIX!” She screamed his name as she came hard around him “Y/N” Her name leaving his lips as he came inside her “Don’t stop Fe, please it feels so good” She rolled her hips against his riding out their highs together. He rolled them over so she was beneath him again “I think you can give me one more baby” That was the only warning she got before he pulled out of her until only the tip of his cock was inside her, then he slammed back into her taking her rough and fast “OH GOD YES!!!” She cried out and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her. Felix continued his rough, fast movements within her, his fingers moving down between them to play with her sensitive clit “FELIX” “Y/N” They came together “God I love you Felix” “I love you too.” Someone banged on the adjoining bedroom wall “Take a break Fe...I counted four orgasms” Demetri’s voice sounded through the wall. They chuckled “I think you were a little loud little one” Felix smirked “So were you” She replied smiling. They showered quickly and once they were clean they laid back down on the bed and he held her in his arms “Just like when you were human” She hummed in agreement before kissing him “Goodnight Fe” She said playfully and snuggled into him.

A few days later Felix was guard duty but was asked to guard the door to Aro’s study as he didn’t wish to be disturbed. The corridor was quiet and Felix was a little bored until Demetri came and joined him for a bit “What are you doing here Fe?” He asked low “Aro doesn’t wish to be disturbed so he has asked that I guard the door to his study” Felix replied “Mind if I join you for abit?” “Not at all D. It’s a bit boring standing here on my own” He replied low. A little while later Y/N appeared wearing an outfit Felix wished she wasn’t, seeing as he was on duty “Ahh, my two favourite vamps” She greeted with a smile “Y/N” They said at the same time “What are you doing here little one?” “I’m bored Feee” She dragged out his name as she ran her fingers up and down the front of his jacket, her head resting on his chest “Why don’t you go to the library and do some reading?” Felix offered “I don’t want to read a book…” She trailed off, he fingers still moving up and down his jacket “How about you spend some time with Chelsea?” Demetri suggested “She’s busy…with Matt” Y/N replied, her hand moving lower down his jacket “There must be something you want do little one, whilst I’m working.” Demetri smirked as Y/N bent over in front of Felix showing a little of the blue lace panties she was wearing “Oops” She said as she bent down to pick up ‘something’ up, Felix and Demetri didn’t see what though. Y/N smoothed her skirt down once she stood back up, she even adjusted her top ensuring Felix got an eye full of cleavage, Demetri also got a look as he was standing beside his friend and couldn’t help feeling a little aroused ‘she’s my friend’ he reminded himself trying to cool down “I’ll see you later Fe, Y/N” “Wonder why he left in a hurry” Y/N purred in her mate’s ear as she cupped his crotch, Felix growled low “I think you know why little one” Y/N giggled and looked up at him through her lashes trying to look innocent; he groaned and captured her lips in a kiss “Go and wait in our room…I’ll deal with you later” “Ok” She replied smiling and walked away leaving her mate standing outside Aro’s office clearly aroused.

“Did it work?” Jane asked “Go take a look” Y/N replied with a smirk looking over her shoulder, Alec walked off to see if Y/N accomplished the bet ‘to try and turn on Felix whilst on duty.’ “Dem left rather quickly” She added with chuckle. Alec returned and handed her €10, “Damn” Jane growled as she handed over the money too. “Thank you” Y/N replied. The trio made their way to the library and got comfortable, reading for the afternoon.

Later that evening Felix returned to their room to find Y/N waiting for him on their bed wearing the green lace lingerie set he bought her after her first ‘tour’ feeding. He quickly removed his clothes, leaving his boxers on and made his way to the bed and captured her lips with his “Don’t move” He ran into his closet and returned with a few ties “Arms up” He said smiling and she did as he asked, watching as he tied her wrists to the bedframe “You don’t get to touch me tonight little one” He winked at her before he carefully removed her bra and panties and settled himself between her thighs. He looked up at her and she noticed his usual ruby eyes were now nearly black “I’m hungry” He growled low and buried his face in her heat; sucking harshly on her clit as he pushed two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out of her, being a little rough “Oh god” She cried out and began to writhe beneath him, he removed his fingers and whimpered at the loss only for him to slip his tongue deep inside her, his fingers roughly pinching and rubbing her clit. Her head rolled back “Felix” She came hard and he purred against her core, sending vibrations through her body, before she had time to recover from her first orgasm of the night, he removed his boxers and slid inside her with one quick thrust filling her deeply “You’re so tight, little one” He buried his face into her neck sucking and nibbling on her skin there as he pounded into her hard and fast “YES! YES!” She screamed, he smiled knowing only he could please her this way. “Y/N” He called out as he came inside her, her walls clenching around him as she came for the second time that evening. He untied her wrists, placing a kiss to each one “I love you Y/N” “I love you too.”

Despite the polite request from Demetri for them to ‘keep the noise down’ they screamed out in pleasure another four times before Jane knocked on their door and threatened to pain drop Felix’s ass, insisting they take a break or find a way to be quiet. “Thank you Jane” Demetri said loudly enough for them to hear “They were so loud even I could hear them” She replied “You’re just jealous because you two aren’t getting any” Felix called back in response “Play nice Felix” Y/N purred before wrapping her lips around Felix’s still hard cock “You will be the death of me Y/N” She purred in response “Remember you need to need to be quiet Fe” She winked at him before taking him into her mouth again, the tip of him hitting the back of her throat, teeth grazing his length, her hands sliding up and down, what she couldn’t take orally; her hands moving in time with her mouth. He muffled his cries of ecstasy with a pillow as he emptied himself down her throat, her swallowing everything he gave her “Such a good boy” She purred kissing him, he could taste himself on her tongue and he deepened the kiss, holding her tight in his arms.

#felix volturi #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #volturi #twilight #heidi volturi

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idratherdreamofjune · 4 years ago

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@sunheart wrote in her tags on another post:

Genuinely hate being alive ... I completely understand on so many levels why you would hate being a woman. Its horrible. And then as a Christian there's this whole really ugly dynamic- that i know is probably a lie i just haven't worked out how yet- that we're the 2nd best. The afterthought. The mediocre option. Almost everything in life men are better at and it's hard to believe it's just cultural- math logic leadership writing cooking writing physical activities on and on, and women are good at being Nice :) Which ok i like being nice but it's like that's my only option I feel like any other impact i might wish to have upon the world will be paltry in comparison to what i could do if only i was a man. I feel incompetent. Irrational. Emotional. Obnoxious. I feel like I'm supposed to be a plaything for the beings that were *actually* created to be in harmony with God like I'm not supposed to have a connection with God- only through my husband which what does that make me as a single childless bitch? I can't even fulfill the main point of my existence. Jesus interacted with women but did he care about them like he did the men? David and John were named his favorites not Deborah or Hannah. And like i said i'm sure none of that's true but i don't know how and it feels awful. hate it.

Hopefully others have shared encouragement on this already, but just in case I wanted to give some thoughts. Please know that if I sound riled at all (and I’m going to try to avoid that) I’m not upset at anyone who feels this way but am deeply upset by the enemy’s lies that so many are hurt by. As a younger believer I did struggle with some of these questions myself, and for a long time it was difficult to reconcile these concerns with the promises that God loves me.

Your instincts are right - it is a lie that women are second best. And before I go any further let me also agree that yes, we are physically weaker than men and have other weaknesses too. But since when has weakness meant that someone is any way “less than” others? Men have weaknesses too, just different ones. That’s the nature of humanity: every person is a mixed bag of strengths and weaknesses. I’ve never heard before that men are better at cooking?? My dad literally struggles to cook a hotdog in the microwave and has never touched a grill in his life. And okay men may (possibly, not sure on this one either) be inherently better at math, but which gender is drastically underrepresented in the nursing field? I suspect there are fewer male teachers, too, though not as huge a disparity. Men are more prone to recklessness and violence - part of the reason married men live longer (gotta get that stable influence). Again yes men are physically stronger but have you watched ballet dancers (oooh i mean ballerinas, sorry there’re so few ballerinos that I forgot to differentiate) or female gymnasts? Nothing “less than” there! The famous Proverbs 31 woman is a good insight into Biblical support of female abilities and value: “strength and dignity are her clothing”, “she opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.” “Let her works praise her in the gates.” (The gates were essentially the city hall or forum of ancient Israel.)

Going back to the beginning - women were created second, true. But did God not know His own plan? He was always going to create women. And the really amazing thing that I learned in the last couple of years is that, when God says He’s going to make Adam “a helper” (Hebrew ”ezer”), that’s the same word that is used to describe God’s actions for His people throughout the Old Testament: - Exodus 18:4 “The God of my father was my help.” - 1 Samuel 7:12 “Ebenezer” means “rock of help” and is a memorial of Yaweh’s help. - Psalm 30:10 “Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me! O Lord, be my helper!” - Psalm 115:11 “You who fear the Lord, trust in the Lord, He is their help and their shield” - Psalm 121:2 “My help comes from the Lord” - Hosea 13:9 “‘You are against Me, against your helper.’“

It is a common word for “help” used in other settings, yes, but the fact that it’s used of God illustrates that this is no poor or second-rate role. Helping - aiding - supporting - incredibly important! In fact this article I just found puts it this way:

In two cases it refers to the first woman, Eve, in Genesis 2. Three times it refers to powerful nations Israel called on for help when besieged. In the sixteen remaining cases the word refers to God as our help. He is the one who comes alongside us in our helplessness. That's the meaning of ezer. Because God is not subordinate to his creatures, any idea that an ezer-helper is inferior is untenable. In his book Man and Woman: One in Christ, Philip Payne puts it this way: "The noun used here [ezer] throughout the Old Testament does not suggest 'helper' as in 'servant,' but help, savior, rescuer, protector.'

Moving on to the New Testament, and the topic of John, who is known as “the disciple whom Jesus loved”. John is the one who wrote the book which tells us that (under the direction of the Holy Spirit, yes) and he only uses that wording as a title, in place of his name. Nowhere does it say he was the favorite disciple, or even most loved, just that he was loved. To me it seems more as if John is saying “Jesus loved me! Can you believe it?!” It has a feeling of awe and thankfulness as opposed to superiority.

Getting into marriage specifically, I do believe that a wife should be under the headship of her husband ...mainly in the sense of letting him have the last word on decisions and plans. This is in part due to differing areas of strength, and in part because in some situations it’s better to have a family leader - most groups of humans need a leader, and following an assigned (or picked) leader does not make one inferior. All that being said, a wife should be able to provide input, advice, and feedback to her husband, who should take into strong consideration his wife’s needs, insights, and concerns (Ephesians 5:25-29).

The lie that women cannot be connected to God outside of their husband is refuted not only by all the vibrantly faithful single or windowed Christian ladies of history (Amy Carmichael, Gladys Aylward, Mary Slessor, and Elisabeth Elliot are some of my favorites) but also Scripture itself. When Christ spoke with the divorced Samaritan woman the disciples were shocked not because she was a Samaritan but because she was a woman (John 4:27; she was shocked on both counts - John 4:9) - I hope they got used to it because Jesus spoke with women a lot. Despite the culture of the time, Jesus clearly had very warm and caring direct relationships with Martha and Mary, Mary Magdalene, and other women. Anna the Prophetess in the temple had been widowed for decades and was serving God alone “night and day” (Luke 2:37). Incredibly, in a culture where women were looked down upon, the Lord chose women to be the first to discover the empty tomb, and Mary Magdalene to be the first to see the risen Christ! I love that passage so much (John 20:11-18).

Another example is when Jesus stopped on His way to heal Jairus’ daughter (i.e. He put aside a powerful man’s urgent request) to lovingly interact with the woman who’d suffered bleeding for years - a terribly personal and female problem (Mark 5:21-35).

To try to wrap up, I’ll return to David in the OT, who was a “man after God’s own heart”. But again, it doesn’t say that he was actually a favorite - it does say David was chosen by God though, to lead Israel and establish the family from which Jesus would ultimately come. You know who else was chosen? Esther - “for such a time as this”. Once she realizes the task she must complete, she tells Mordecai how it’s going to go, and “Mordecai then went away and did everything Esther had ordered him.” Esther gets a book named after her and is remembered in the holiday of Purim to this day. Also note that Esther was married to an unbeliever. Likewise Ruth was chosen, as a young foreign widow, to be part of the Messiah’s kingly line. As an aside, my favorite thing about Ruth’s story (besides all the faith and beauty of it) is the simultaneous deep respect and protectiveness Boaz shows towards her (okay enough mush). Anyhow what it comes down to is that God chooses and loves both men and women, and both have a place (singly and married) in His plans and kingdom. See also Galatians 3:28 “ There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

This post has all over the place, and I probably forgot a bunch of things I wanted to add (if anything else comes to mind I’ll add it later), but I hope it’s been encouraging. Yes I’ve struggled with some aspects of how women are portrayed in the Bible, but what I shared above, plus the love and blessings I’ve known as a single woman are more than enough evidence that we are known and loved. If anything is unclear or anyone has any questions please speak out/send an ask! Anon asks are on too. Also if anyone wants to add or amend anything do so without hesitation!!

#marriage #women in the Bible #Book of Ruth #Book of Esther #singleness #Scripture #lies

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echo-of-sounds · 4 years ago

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i don’t know

Okay, I don’t know where else to put this, so you can ignore it if you want, but I just need to get some thoughts, feelings, and anxieties out before I breakdown because of them. This’ll probably get long. And I’ll probably cry from frustration while writing this.

Two summers ago, when I was 21, my therapist said it was a possibility that I had Asperger's, mainly because of the social and cognitive symptoms. I have a horrible time understanding abstract information. In school, I cold never do a project unless I had concrete details. I just couldn’t grasp what they were asking of me. Teachers would narrow it down a bit, but it never helped. I need a clear outline. I legitimately could not do it otherwise. I froze and panicked and ended up nearly failing projects because of the lack of concrete direction.

I have a hard time understanding, what should be, simple sentences. I ask people to reword what they said or explain it in more depth. Some do. Some get angry and accuse me of not paying proper attention. I completely am. But I genuinely cannot make sense of their words and feel left out because they refuse to repeat themselves. It’s so frustrating. I loose track of the conversation, stop contributing, then they get angry again because I’m not responding to them.

My memory pertaining to certain things, is beyond amazing. I can recite the seating arrangements from all of my high school class. That was five years ago. But outside of that, it’s terrible (I know ADHD plays a role in this too). I always focus on the smaller details even if they weren’t important. I focused so much on them, I failed to see the larger picture. This also impacted so much of my schoolwork.

When I talk, I have no inflection. My voice is low and I often mumble. So many people have gotten angry at me for it. Then when I try to speak louder, to the point I’m genuinely strain myself and feel like I’m yelling, they still say I’m too quite. So I give up talking.

I had to go to speech therapy when I was younger (around 5 and 6 years old) because I still had trouble learning how to speak. My mom said I wouldn’t properly pronounce anything, use words wrong, and ‘babble’ a lot.

I’m so fucking clumsy. I bruise myself regularly because I just run into everything, even though they’ve been in the same place for years. I hit my hands off of things, nearly run into walls, and kick things often.

And my sensitivities are off the charts. It’s honestly ridiculous (I know ADHD also plays a role in this, but sometimes I feel like it’s much more than that). People tell me to stop being a picky eater when the smell of fish makes me want to vomit and feeling beans in my mouth is just plain wrong. The only smell I can tolerate is vanilla. Anything else and I want to cry. Clothing is horrible. I’m so rarely comfortable. And noises are the worst. My dad says it’s quite, but I can hear the Tv, the Tv in the other room, the sink running, that beeping, the AC going, someone clicking, the sizzling on the stove, and it’s all too much.

When I was younger, I used to have temper tantrums. A lot. They were bad. I’d hit myself, scratch myself with pens, and bang my head off the floor. I barely remember them, but I do remember it being more than just a ‘temper tantrum.’ The world was just too much and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I had a meltdown.

The severe self-harm eventually stopped, but the meltdown’s still happen to this day. My mom tries to get me to talk about it so she can help. But I can’t even explain why it happened half the time. It just did.

I’ve had so few close friends throughout my life. The ones I do make, don’t last. It’s hard for me to keep them as a friend. They don’t do anything wrong or bad. I just can never keep that connection. I barely interact with people. Even when they’re around, I just don’t talk. I abhor looking people in the eyes. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t even know why! People get angry at me. They think I’m ignoring them when I’m not. I’m just not looking directly at them.

Communicating my feelings and expressing empathy is something I just cannot do. So I fake it. I feel worse about not feeling bad about someone’s trouble than I do actually feeling bad for them (I don’t know if that makes sense). I fake it so I don’t sound rude. I don’t want them to be angry at me.

I’d get in trouble at school when I did something ‘wrong,’ but I didn’t understand what I did wrong. I still don’t to some point. Teachers just told me I broke a rule and was in trouble. When I would ask why, they said I should be able to know that by myself. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I thought about it.

I have a morning routine. I do it daily. If it ever gets interrupted, stopped, or I can’t complete it for whatever reason, my entire day is off. I try to continue normally, but I can’t focus. I just now my morning was messed up and I spend the rest of the day obsessing over it. It doesn’t go away until the next day when I can complete it properly.

I’ve always had hyperfocuses. ADHD affects this. I know. Some come and go, like a certain video game will consume my life or I’m suddenly preoccupied with writing poems for a week. But those go away. All my life, I’ve loved reading and learning about dinosaurs/megafauna/evolution, plants, and psychology. They’re easy for me to learn about. I retain so much information without trying. I never had to study for my psych. exams. Never. And I always aced them. I just obsessed about the subject and they remained in my memory so well.

As for stimming, I’ve done a lot of different things throughout my life, but I was always told to stop, told they were annoying, or questioned about them. So I stopped doing each one because I was scared people would get angry with me. Because some have.

I used to rub my fingers together. It kept my hands busy, but it also helped me focus and relieved some anxious energy. I didn’t know why. It just made me feel better. I’d be on the computer, using the mouse with my right hand, rubbing my fingers together with my left. My dad questioned why I did it. I didn’t have an answer so I did it less. I did it in school, while taking a test, and the teacher told me to stop because it was disruptive. I eventually stopped doing it all together because people would constantly make me feel bad for it.

I also used to babble. It was one of the reasons I was sent to speech therapy. Instead of helping me learn how to talk properly, because I did need help with that, the workers there just forced me to stop babbling/humming/repeating a word because it wasn’t proper behavior for the situation I was in.

Though I don’t babble anymore, as that was basically forced out of my behavior, I still hum and repeat lines (whether from a Tv show or a book) to myself, sometimes for days at a time. I also move my head and neck around and twist my wrists while I’m focusing on something. Half the time, I don’t realize I’m doing it. It takes another person to point it out.

My therapists said it was a possibility that I had Asperger’s. My psychiatrist said she didn’t believe so because I was able to connect with her. She felt I didn’t ‘align’ with the social troubles. I can talk to her, share feelings, look her in the eye, smile ate jokes (though sometimes I fake smile- I see another person smile so I match it), and I don’t have trouble going off topic and rambling about specific subjects.

I said okay at the time. She’s a smart woman and I trust her. But ever since, it’s been on my mind. I’ve always felt different. I don’t mean that in like ‘I’m special’ kind of way. I mean it like, ‘There’s something wrong with me and I don’t understand what it is. I don’t understand why others can do X while that takes me longer/more effort to understand. I genuinely felt ostracized. But I just accepted it.’

I don’t know how to bring it up to my mom and/or dad. I know my mom will be supportive, but I’m scared about other people. My younger brother makes jokes about autism. My siblings, dad, and stepmom don’t do anything. It pisses me off to no end. I’ve yelled and sworn at him for what he says. But he keeps doing it. My other siblings say it’s just a joke and I need to relax, but I can’t. They aren’t jokes. They’re rude, ableist, and most of them are making fun of things I do. He, nor none of family, just don’t that because I keep them hidden.

And I don’t know how to bring it back up to my psychiatrist. I feel connected to many of the symptoms and like it explains so much of my life, especially when I was young, but I don’t know how to explain all my thoughts on the subject. When she asks me a question, I often freeze and undercut my own troubles and downplay it. I’ve been obsessing over this the past few months. It’s partly why my depression got bad for a time. I don’t know it I’m making a mountain out of a mole or if I should actually seek professional help to help me, especially since I’ve applied for disability benefits because my mental health has been so bad the past couple of years.

Anyway, I’m done my ranting. Thanks for listening if you did. And I’m open to advice. I’ve just felt so stuck recently and I feel like it’ll only get worse.

#neurodivergent #autism support #autistic spectrum #mental health #personal?#it's definitely personal #personal rant #ignore my rambling #tw ableism

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ahsokasanity · 4 years ago

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Chapter Four

Notes - more spoilers, so don’t read this if you’ve not done ACOSF. Mostly from Az’s POV. Isn’t it about time we talked about Az and Elaine?! In case you missed the beginning Chapter One

Azriel avoided Elain. He spoke business to Rhys and he tried to smile with Feyre, if only because he didn’t know for how long he would be able to do that. It was lucky that he spent his whole life in subterfuge and was able to speak little to steer clear of topics that had been swept under the rug. Feyre didn’t notice. They had always had an easy if not intimate relationship. Elain on the other hand…

It had been weeks since Solstice and that near mistake. It was even more glaringly a mistake as he sidestepped any invitations to the River House and more so from ever being alone with Elain. She was often in the garden so he without fail arrived at the front door. When he met with Rhys it was in his office and Azriel knew that Elain rarely frequented that area of the house. Rhys was silently pleased and encouraged Az in all of his spying and chaperoning of Nesta and Cassian (now that was a title that held no responsibilities!). They found themselves able to work around Azriel’s crushing need to try to get eyes and ears on Briallyn, and Rhys’s absolute no on that endeavour.

When Az flew toward the River House that day, he was high. As in emotionally high. The three longest term trainees had cut the ribbon, all three in the one day. Valkyries indeed. Gwyn had made the break through first and he knew without question that the impromptu lesson during Solstice had given her the tools and the courage to be first. Her success radiated through him as she let Nesta tie the ribbon around her forehead. She’d lifted her chin in his direction and winked. She winked at him! Yes, yes, of course it was a student teacher type interaction, it was not wreathed in innuendo nor suggestive in any way. He saw the person beneath peeking out from the robes and the trauma and he was knocked backwards by her grace.

It truly did not help that the glass rose swung free of her neckline and glimmered in the sun. Her hair was tearing free from it’s braid around her cheeks and the thrill of the conquest, the blush on her cheeks turned her into the most glorious creature. Az was used to this now. Every few days he’d catch a look or a moment of pure beauty from her and he’d file it away. He was not masturbating to his images of her and he thought of that as a good sign. The Sidra Salvation was becoming a regular stop during his week so the tightness and the angst were distant needs. The loneliness was a constant companion, but it was smothered often by his friends, his family their court and it’s demands.

So wrapped up was he in thoughts of training success, he did not see Elain standing by the lavender path leading to the front door. She was engrossed in her work but immediately he landed she stood and walked directly to him.

“Elain….. um hello” he stammered out

“You won’t talk to me and you never see me when you are here. What was so bad?” She dropped her gaze as if all the courage that it took to say those words had left her empty

Azriel pulled himself together and guided Elain to the bench seat alongside the house. It was out of sight of most of the windows and he could tell that Elain did not want anyone to see her like this. His past-self strained to take her in his arms, but the stronger better male was in charge now and he knew to support without overture was his job.

“I’m sorry Elain” Her name on his lips brought a sob to her mouth and she covered it with a shaking hand.

“I hoped to let you sort out these feelings without getting in your way, without making your decisions more difficult” He was finding this really difficult, her bottom lip was tight as she held tears

“But, you saved me. You were the only one who saw me. The only one who has seen me since I became this” She indicated her perfect fae form from toes to pointed ears.

“I promised Rhys” As soon as the words left his mouth AZ knew the hurt they would cause, the trouble.

Elain shook her head once, gritting her teeth “The mighty High Lord forbade you from what, being friends with me, from pursuing me? He enjoyed seeing the steel will under the stunning exterior. So rarely seen, so alluring.

Azriel did not extract himself from her tight grip but he knew that for himself, for Elain to get past this point, she needed the truth and nothing less. Even if it wounded him, wounded her. No good could come from mincing around these basic fae instincts, the mating bond, the trouble between courts.

“Elain you have to listen and you have to know that I do not say this to hurt you, even though I know it might. This is important”

She nodded, but her eyes cast down, tears leaking from each.

“There is no law that says that every party involved must accept the mating bond..”

“Oh, THIS again” Elain went to stand. Azriel clutched her hands tighter

“Yes Elain, THIS again. Because it will not go away. Not ever. No matter how far you go or how much you avoid it. You will feel it. He will feel it and it will never go away”

She sobbed into his hands, hers tightening and releasing. “I know. I know”

Az blew out a breath and stroked her hair. She stiffened and he smiled

“Just supporting, not seducing” he stared at her and she lifted the corners of her mouth.

“I am just so sick of life doing things to me. Without me. Losing Feyre, becoming rich again, being betrothed to Graysen” (she said quietly) “Being kidnapped and then the cauldron, losing Graysen and my father” She drew a shaky breath.

“I wanted something else, something mine and my choice. I thought that you were my choice, and I might be yours” The last had been mumbled out of her mouth – a truth that she didn’t want to give up. Azriel’s chest cracked a little and he pulled her toward him.

He breathed into her hair “You would be, you could be - except for the bond”

Elain gasped and pulled away, nearly stood up.

“People keep telling me that it’s up to me if I accept it or not, I don’t have to like Lucien. I don’t have to be with him. I have no interest in being with him. Why won’t you fight for me?” She squared her shoulders and glared at him with what was decidedly a Nesta I will slay my enemies look. Exactly the conversation that Az had been trying to avoid for a month, since that stupid night, that ridiculous present that was all about wanting to be a part of something bigger than himself. And he had dragged her into this web, knowing full well the fall out would be massive.

“Please, wait and …and listen” Elain stalled her stomp off as he composed himself and spoke

“Everyone has been so careful around you, well not just you, we coset Feyre and we hide scary truths from each other (he thought of Mor) and we do it thinking that we’re doing right, helping. We are not helping you Elain. The truth of your life is that Lucien is in it. You have decisions to make, but I cannot offer you myself, I cannot create a civil war between our court and at least two others if I fight for you. I cannot disobey my high Lord” He nodded in truth and stroked her hand “No matter what our circumstances may have led us to do in the past. I like you Elain, I probably even love you as my High Lady’s sister, but to accept any relationship with you is a war starter and you know, it won’t even work for you to release the bond this way.”

“But Why, why Azriel” How many times had he thought about his name spoken by her, not with this edge of grief, but with joy like the night she’d given him the headache powder. He steeled his soul

“Because you need to explore the mating bond and not just by ignoring it and Lucien. I’m not one to extol his finer points but he does have them. Feyre might tell you some. Rhys and Mor might tell you others. You have to know that even I know, he was not a part of your kidnapping and definitely not a part of your being made Fae. Even before he knew you were his mate, he has never contributed to harm coming your way.”

If only for the fact that Elain had never heard Azriel speak so many words together, she believed him. She knew that her idealistic gardening, helping Velarisians, and ignoring the part of her life that needed growth itself, was over. Her consolation was Nesta and Feyre and their journeys through the dark to the light. She might be able to get there, to that immersion in life. The great, the sad, the truth of it. She knew they’d help. But she would have to tell them what she needed, not just avoid what she didn’t want.

They were both standing and she wrapped her arms around Azriel’s middle linking her fingers to cage him in for a little while

“Thank you. For telling me the truth, I don’t want it, but I probably needed it” She glanced up at him – Gods he was a fine figure even for a fae. She giggled to herself.

“How much trouble are you in if Rhys finds us?”

More Chapters? Try the Chapter Link

“I will wear it if you promise this is the beginning of our totally platonic, sister/brother hugs are allowed everything else is out of bounds relationship” He smiled a world lighting lifting of his usually neutral face and she nodded but held him tighter.

#acosf #sjm #acotar #Elriel #high lords #angsty

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didsomeonesaydaddydraco · 4 years ago

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Secrets | d.m imagine

Hermione and I are on our way to the Great Hall to have breakfast with Ron and Harry. We accidentally overslept this morning because we were up late last night studying for our upcoming DADA test. She tries to hide her yawing, but I can tell by the dark circles under her eyes, that she is as tired as I am.

- You know what I don’t understand? – She looks at me confused – How on Merlin were you sorted into Gryffindor with that attitude of yours? Don’t get me wrong, you know I love you, you’re my best friend, but the amount of sass you have and how determined you can get, you’d be better off at Slytherin, but you still ended up at Gryffindor.

I freeze for a second, memories flashing right before my eyes from a couple of years ago.

*4 years ago*

I’m aimlessly wandering around the caste with my fellow schoolmates around me. A bunch of 11 years old, who are very much eager to start their school year at the famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The endless corridors amaze us, and the living pictures scare most of us as they welcome the new students with a few nice words. We’re waiting by a huge old wooden door for Professor McGonogall to let us in so we can be sorted into our Houses. I know a lot about this School. My brother was a student here, along with my parents, their parents and basically my whole family.

- Follow me, please – an elder student comes up to us to lead the way. We’re called to a chair and the Sorting Hat is placed on our heads. For some student he doesn’t have to think much which House he should put them, but for a boy, named Harry Potter, he thinks a lot. It looks like he cannot make a decision, but suddenly he yells out Gryffindor.

- Next is, Miss Y/F/N – as Professor McGonogall calls my name, my knees start to shake, and my palms get sweaty. Without any shown emotion, I sit on the stall, my legs not being long enough to reach the ground. My breathing is getting heavier second by second as the Hat is getting put on me.

Please, not Slytherin. Please, do NOT put me in Slytherin.

- Hmm, what do we have here – the loud voice of the Hat starts and I feel like I’m going to faint soon – Oh, wow… - he hums – Very interesting mind. A huge knowledge, and bravery – for a second I feel a slight relief as he’s listing the Gryffindor characteristics – But I see creativity, with a very strong determination and ability to be a great leader…just like a true Slytherin.

Please, I’m begging. Do NOT put me in the Slytherin House…

- Exciting thoughts you have here, young Y/Fam/N – the Hat chuckles but yells out my house finally – Gryffindor!

*Present*

- Hey, are you OK? – Hermione asks me. I zoned out after the flashback. All these years, nobody asked be why it was so hard for the Sorting Hat to choose my House. They still think I’m just a rather complicated person with quite a twisted personality.

- Yeah, sure – I smile weakly at her – I’m just tired, hungry and nervous about our DADA test, that’s all – I shrug and fasten my walking to the Great Hall. Never in my years at Hogwarts have I thought that maybe my secrets will be exposed one day. And that day was closer than I imagined.

Two weeks have passed since Hermione’s question, and ever since than I’ve tried everything to avoid that specific topic, but she doesn’t seem to want to. Every chance she has, she would ask about my family and why in Merlin’s love I’m not talking about them or about my life outside of Hogwarts. Last night we even had a fight about it in front of half of the School, when she pushed her questions on me during dinner. I got enough of her obsession with my family tree and rushed out of the Hall. But on my way out, I saw Draco Malfoy looking at me with a knowing smirk and some foreign flame in his eyes. Something, that looked very close to sympathy.

- Hermione, I think you should drop it – I hear Harry trying to convince her – I bet those are just rumours. You know how bad they can be.

I walk up to them but before I can sit down on my usual spot next to Hermione, she jumps up and looks at me fumingly. I immediately know that she knows. Of course she does.

- Could you tell me when you wanted to tell us everything? – Her voice is louder than usual and it attracts the attentions of the students at Great Hall. They loved a great drama during dinner time, so they could talk about something after it at their Common Rooms.

- Hermione – I warn her that neither the place, nor time is right for this conversation. But when I try to ask her to talk about this somewhere more private, she cuts me off.

- Do not Hermione me, Y/N – she screams at me with pain in her eyes – A couple of weeks ago I asked you how you were sorted into Gryffindor, when you clearly have the characteristics of a Slytherin. You zoned out and didn’t give me an answer – she starts her story – Silly me thought, it must be a misunderstanding, or you were just going through this weird faze when you act like a total jackass. I tried to talk with you about this, but you changed the subject every single time – she is playing with her wand like she was some kind of teacher, trying to teach us the lesson – So you gave me no other choice than to do some research…

- Hermione, I think we should – Harry stands beside her, tugging on her robe to pull her away from me. Ron stands up too and looks worried. At least he is worried. People are gathering around us, eager to find out what this whole drama is really about. I spot a platinum blond head in the crowd, Draco’s eyes burning my face as he is trying to read in my mind.

- We should do what, Harry? Hmm? – Hermione pushes off his hand from her shoulder and looks back at me – We should just live with the fact that one of our oh so called best friend is actually supposed to be a Slytherin, being the descendent of one of the most ancient pureblood wizard families? Or you just want to avoid the fact that her father was sentenced to death by a Dementor’s kiss, and her brother is probably die in one of the most guarded cells of Azkaban because they were loyal to Who He Shall Not Be Named and served him? Almost everyone in her family was, or still a Death Eater.

Everyone around us gasps. Silence fills the Great Hall as Hermione yells out the last words. Everyone is surprised, except Malfoy. He looks like he knew about this the whole time, and he probably did. His parents being Death Eaters as well, they might had known my father.

- Your mother changed your name, used her middle name as your last name so it might confuse the Sorting Hat – she takes a step closer to me, her wand still in her hand as she was afraid I might hex her. And in this moment, I really want to do that, but I won’t – That’s why the Hat was confused. That’s why the Professors acted like they had no idea who you were, but they all knew.

- You couldn’t keep your nose out of my business, right? – I scoff and look at her. The girl, who I thought was a friend. Whom I thought would never judge me – Are you happy now? You know this too. Does it make you a better person? Do you think you can use this against me?

- I… - she opens her mouth, but this time I’m the one who cuts her off.

- I hope you are finally satisfied. But for your information, private life is called private for a reason. And if you don’t want to cause any trouble for yourself in the future, I suggest you to stay out of other people’s business. Not everyone is as nice as I am – I say to her with ice cold voice and leave the room in a rush.

I’m literally running all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. My tears blur my vision, and I almost fall a couple of times, but all I want is to be as far from Hermione as I can. My knees give up, and they can no longer hold me on my feet. I collapse to the ground and let myself cry. My father was indeed a Death Eater, but he was a good man. He never meant to hurt anyone, he just made all the wrong choices, along with my brother. They loved their family endlessly, and would have done everything to protect Mom and me. And they did. That’s why they were both locked up at Azkaban for years. Than the Ministry made their decision about Dad, who refused to give names to the judges. So he got a Dementor Kiss. Elvin, my brother, was only sentenced to spend the rest of his life at Azkaban.

I hear footsteps from behind me, but I refuse to turn around. I don’t want to face anyone now, I just want to be alone with my shame, grief and thoughts.

- I don’t care who you are, but I don’t want to speak, nor I want company – my voice is filled with sorrow, and the cold November weather makes me shiver. I just started to feel cold. I must have been too angry to feel anything but the fire burning inside of me which wanted to hex Hermione for being so nosy.

- The Towers tends to be quite cold around this time of the year – I’m shocked by the voice. I thought Hermione ran after me to finish her story about my own damn life, or if it wasn’t her, I thought it was going to be Harry or Ron coming after me, to make sure I’m okay, and to ask me if she was right about all those things she had said in the Great Hall. But for my surprise, it was no other, than the Prince of Slytherin, who had been watching me for the last couple of weeks, and who couldn’t look away from my face during Hermione’s “attack”.

- Here you go – he says softly as he wraps his Slytherin robe on my shoulders. I look up at him, just to see his facial expressions. All I can see is sympathy and kindness on his every cold and emotionless face. His pale skin looks like it’s glowing in the moonlight, and his eyes are sparkling just like the stars on the jet black night sky – I come here often. When I want to be alone and need to think or just let out everything that I’ve been hiding in my mind.

I follow his movements, as he sits down beside me. So close our arms are brushing to each other, a sudden warm feeling going through my whole body. Draco was a jerk. He was full of himself, and lived for terrorizing everyone who wasn’t a Slytherin or a pureblood witch or wizard. Somehow, he never had anything bad to say to me; he never called me Gryffindork, or any other insulting names. But at the same time, he never really talked to me – only when we were paired to work together for essays or at Potions class a couple of times.

- You knew, didn’t you? – I ask him after a rather long silence – That’s why you left me alone, not calling me names and picking on me. You knew who I was, and who my parents were…and that’s why you were around me these couple of days. You knew she was going to figure out, right?

He only answers with a small nod. He doesn’t look at me. I turn my gaze away from his side profile, and stare at the sky. We sit there is silence, the only noise our slow breathing, and the sound of the wind dancing through the columns of the Tower. Out of nowhere, Draco grabs my hand, and holds it in his. His thumb is drawing little circles on my wrist and my quite sobs start to calm down and fade.

- I’m not them – I sigh – I’m not my parents or my brother. I would never be a Death Eater. I wouldn’t be able to kill someone, even if they deserved to die. My father and Elvin never killed anyone. They were only…

- Shhh – Draco pulls me closer and lets me to rest my head on his shoulder – You don’t have to explain anything to me. I know how hard your life must have been. And it still is. To be honest, it’s never gonna change. You can only learn to live with this, keep it as a secret and pretend it won’t affect your future – he plays with my fingers, and I know, this time, he’s not referring to me only, but to himself and his future as well – But the truth, it will. We just have to be strong and smart enough, to bare it.

- I don’t know if I can do this alone – I whisper, a single tear rolling down my cheek, dropping on Draco’s hand. He turns to me, and places his free hand on my cheek. I watch his light pink lip running along his bottom lip, his lips curving into a small, but genuine smile.

- Who said you have to do it alone? – he asks me – I’m pretty good at keeping dirty little secrets.

- I bet you have tones of those – I finally laugh a bit. At the sound of my laughter, his smile grows wider, and a cheeky little fame appears in his almost grey eyes.

- Oh, trust me darling, I do – he laughs as well – One of them being having a crush on you…

From that night, Draco did everything in his power to protect me, and I did the same with him. It took me a while, to be comfortable again inside the walls of Hogwarts. I lost a few friends, but at the same time, I gained a few more. People, who were on my side, no matter what. After summer break, Hermione and I apologised to each other. She finally accepting that fact that she might be way too nosy, and wanted to grow as a person, and learn to stay out of other people’s business for her own good. And I told her everything about my family, friends, childhood, fears and dreams. Of course we had a fight about me dating Draco, but when I explained her, that he would never ever hurt me, she finally accepted him at our and in the Gryffindor’s common room as well. As for Draco, it took me a couple of months to get used to the idea, that that arrogant asshole really had a soft side and he loved to show it to me. We never told the whole school that we were, in fact, a couple. Some people knew, some had no clue. We loved the idea of being each other’s dirty little secret.

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x gryffindor!reader #imaginestory #harry potter imagines #death eater parents #ron weasly imagine #hermione granger

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peachyunjinnie · 5 years ago

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❝there’s always a first time❞ hjs ― m.

― summary:

your brother seungmin is very protective over you, but one day your best friend gave you a stick and poke tattoo and you get an infection. fortunately seungmin’s friend jisung as a hobby tattoo fanatic helps you take care of it and when seungmin wasn’t there you two decide to run away.

badboy!jisung/goodgirl!reader | fluff, smut | 5.3k ↬ content warnings: swear words, the mention of alcohol and drugs. drunk/high sex, with a little size and corruption kink.

a/n: i had this idea a couple of days ago and i tried my best to get this idea into a fic, i hope you enjoy it !!

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The relationship between me and my cousin Seungmin is better than with anyone else, you could say that we could consider ourselves as siblings and even best friends. We had the same taste in humor and even better lived in the same house after my mother died right after she gave birth to me. My father ended up bringing me to my aunt and uncle at the age of 2.

Seungmin is 1 year older and has ‘BBPI’ as he calls it which means Big Brother Protection Instinct. I know, complete nonsense and as a 16-year old I don’t get why I have to be protected. Well, as Seungmin said I am still ‘his small sister’. Pathetic. As said before Seungmin is 1 year older to be exact 11 months and 28 days and has friends, for whatever reason, he has a whole group. Well, he warned me about one of them, the walking trouble: Han Jisung. He basically is the opposite of me, a 180 if you want to say it.

He stole the car of his stepfather numerous of times and I remember seeing him drunk and completely stoned in school, that I will never forget. Last year he was stumbling through the hallways of our school. His hair messy and his smile never leaving his lips. He had the hardest time trying to keep his eyes open, or even just keeping his legs moving. And the best part, he puked on his teacher's chest. It was the highlight of the whole day, no the whole semester. His stepfather thank god is very wealthy and managed to keep him in school, somehow.

I heard a lot of rumors about this Jisung and I really do not want to believe that he was in the Russian mafia boss nor do I want to believe that he killed his father and is living with his mother who helped him. It was really funny though to hear how unique and ridiculous the fantasies and the gossip was at our school, I mean a Russian mafia boss, seriously?

I hung out with my own friends, but sometimes I would get to talk and just meet my brother’s friends. In conclusion, we even had the same taste in friends. They were really nice. I really have the best friendship with Felix and Changbin. Felix firstly has an excellent taste in music and humor, secondly, he is by far one of the most concentrated gamer I’ve ever met. Changbin is just Changbin. He is kind of annoying and clingy with his friends. Which you would’ve never expected from this buff hulk. And to be completely honest with you, Changbin and Lix...are kind of cute together.

Well, with Seungmin being as protective as he is, he has told me clearly that dating is already a picky topic but dating one of his group members. I think he would be as angry as he was when I asked him what a ‘Day6′ was. He really ignored me for 3 weeks straight, with a text message saying ‘if you know who wonpil is then you are allowed to talk to me’. (stan day6, cowards.)

“Stop moving so much, I’ve done it before and you’re overreacting.” She whisper-screamed. She was nearly done with her K on my thigh, It was way bigger than I thought it would be, but it looked good.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just getting poked by a hot needle on my thigh over and over again.” My sarcasm was louder than the thoughts in my head that were shouting lines of ‘you’re so in trouble’ or ‘you will never be able to get this off your skin’.

“So.. Here we go. Done.” She said as she was looking at her masterpiece of a K on my thigh of the size of a thumb. But it looked even and nice. She has done a (The first letter of y/n) on her thigh. I cannot believe how red it was though, and swollen. Extremely swollen

“Kim, when will it be ‘okay’?” I asked her with a slight nervous undertone. I really am the biggest chicken on earth. She opened her bag and got saran wrap. She took some out and wrapped it over her creation with such a soft touch. I still cringed and squinched.

“Maybe a week or two. It doesn’t take too long.” She smiled at our bond. I smiled with her. We ended up in a big hug and stayed like this for some time before she packed her stuff and headed out.

I admired her work on my thigh and stood up, with an overwhelming pain spreading across my thigh. I couldn’t stand up on my own feet, my thigh stung extremely and harshly.

Panic rising through me, what the heck should I do now? Should I call my mom and tell her about it? Should I tell Seungmin and ask him for help? Should I just emigrate to Brazil and start my new life as a Silvia Theresa Rodriguez?

I crawled to my bed and tried my best to let the 2 years drama club pay off. I called my mom and asked for a painkiller. She came up to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Her concerned eyes scanned my body and noticed my messy hair and my pale face. I coughed.

“Mom, I-I’m sick.” She sat there and looked at me and gave me the painkiller with a glass of water.

I snatched it out of her hand and gulped the pill down as if it were the only banana in the jungle. Her concern grew faster and she shook her head.

“I’m going to call your teacher. You’re not going to school.” She said as she got off my bed and walked off with her phone in her hand, dialing the number.

After the longest 8 hours, Seungmin came home, and thank god came into my room. With a bag of McDonald's and a big smile, he went to my bed and sat down.

“Why didn’t you come to school?” He gave me the bag and with a breathtaking smell of fat and fast food filling my nose and getting the best of me.

“Oh, I am sick my head hurt a little, and mom overreacted.” I said with a huge load of fries in my mouth.

With a small pat on my thigh, he hit the right spot of the K and a shriek came out, my whole body tensing up and Seungmin looking at my covered thigh. He took the blanket off. My shorts relieving the now swollen and slightly scabbing spot.

A moment of silence filled the room and Seungmins face has gotten from a healthy color to a concerning red and then to a frightening purple.

“Surprise...” I smiled awkwardly.

“Y/N, you got a fucking tattoo...” His voice was a low growl, but still, you could clearly hear the pure panic in his voice.

“Uhm, haha yea. So I made it myself, you like it?” My shaking voice showing the state of mine. My thigh looked pretty bad and as painful as it would’ve been, without the painkillers.

“Did you disinfect it?” My whole head went blank. Of course, it was so swollen and scabbing, Kim didn’t disinfect it. My face went paler than pale and I rethought the consequences of an infection.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Get your shoes and we will get to my friend he will help you.” He really was very serious about the infection so I stood up with a numb pain, but not as overwhelming as it was yesterday. I searched for my shoes and directly followed him.

A quick bus ride and a small foot-march later there was a big but still small and cozy house. Red and white, reminding me of a red velvet cupcake. Looks fancy but is cute at the same time. The grass and the dwarfs decorating the beautiful view. A middle-aged lady working in the garden, planting in seeds and watering the red tulips.

“Hello, Mrs. Han is Jisung home?” He grinned at her.

“Oh hello, Seungmin. Nice to see you again!” She smiled at him with a motherly aura surrounding her. She hugged him and I could see that she liked Seungmin a lot. He didn’t really know what to do awkwardly stood there and let her do. She noticed me standing there and hiding behind Seungmin's tall figure and met with her warm brown eyes.

“Hello, and who are you?” she asked with a bigger smile.

“Uh, I am Seungmins sister.” I immediately trusted her and her warm embrace.

“Ah yes, I can see the model genes going in the family. You seem like you’re in a big rush to see Jisung, he’s in his room.” She told us and saw my embarrassed blush across my face as Seungmin took my hand and yanked me downstairs to where Jisung was.

The basement as a room, interesting. It was colored black and had a lot of posters of some bands that I have never heard of. There he was on his bed smoking a cigarette and admiring his newest addition to his arm, a slightly red and in saran wrapped tattoo. A small skull drinking from a glass bottle, very precise and well made. He sat there and continued to smoke.

“Seungmin, what’s up.” he took a puff. Not giving anyone a single look. His hand tapping over his forearm and keep admiring his skull.

“I need your help. My sister made a tattoo and now it’s infected. Do you know what to do?” Seungmin seemed very concerned and worried. Jisung stood up and chuckled a little.

“The little Y/N, has a tattoo?” He asked me and looked down at me.

His eyes have the same warm brown as his mothers and I weirdly trusted him regardless of his reputation. His hair was dyed a very light blonde and his face was very chubby, unlike his body which was athletic: muscular but slim. He had two tears on his face and my thoughts went crazy. Who in the actual hell did he kill and the rumors of Jisung being a Russian mafia boss came into my mind and I reconsidered if I should be worried to be in a room with him?

“Seungmin, I have some lemonade for you.” Mrs. Han's voice echoed through the basement and he looked at Jisung.

“Go for it, I will take care of her.” He gave him green light and Seungmin looked at him with a look in his eyes. Which could be translated into ‘If you hit on my sister, I will drag your corpse to the nearest forest and let you get eaten by the birds’. Jisung nodded and Seungmin went upstairs.

“So tell me, how did you do that?” He said with a smile as he pointed to my infected K. His hair falling on his face, a little messy but still perfectly proportional.

“Uhm, a long story...” He went to his desk and took out a liquid and a cotton pad. He pushed the chair next to the bed and patted the bed. I quickly sat down. Him in front of me.

“I have time, come on.” He looked up and gave me a simper. I felt a small tickle again and wanted to trust him with it.

“Well uh, my friend Kim wanted to get us bonded. She took a needle and poked my skin for some time until it was done.” He laughed a little, letting me see his whites.

“You stick and poked and didn’t disinfect it?” His eyes still on mine and not leaving the look they had, of the warm and soft chocolate brown.

“No, we didn’t and stop making fun of me- Ah-” His cold hand touching my thigh. My body stiffened and it was hard to relax.

“Calm down, relax. You wanna listen to music? disinfecting this will be a little uncomfortable.” He stood up and walked to his stereo. He took out a cassette and stuck one in. A prehistoric cassette, I haven’t seen this since I listened to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban one years ago. After some seconds of silence, ‘All The Small Things’ by blink-182 boosted through the speakers.

He turned around and sat down again and wet the pad with this liquid. He took off the wrap and the air hit the wound. It was a stinging soreness, that leads me to look away and bite my lower lip, hard.

He took the wet pad and started to clean up the wound as careful and gentle as possible, the stinging and burning pain was a very harsh rush of pain. I whined and groaned loudly.

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he was still cleaning up.

“Well, yes,” I said with a small whine.

“Good. If I see you with a new tattoo I will get you punished.” his voice getting raspier and raspier. But he still cleaned the wound up and was done with the disinfecting. He stood up again and got some of the saran wraps and pointed his finger, signaling me to stand up.

I stood up from his bed and he kneeled down to wrap it up. His hands still very cold and tickling my thigh.

“So Kim, is your friend?” His voice a little absent.

“Yes, my best.” I had to automatically smile.

“Tell me about her, how is she like?” I was surprised at his interest in my personal life but answered him.

“Oh, um she is reckless and she never thinks about her actions. She makes out stupid things that I have to box her out of. But she also has a nice and gentle side that not many know. I love her a lot.” I smiled at our memories and how easy it was to be myself around her.

As I was in my thoughts, Jisung took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a glass. He gets him a good amount and gets another glass after seeing my big eyes. After a long friendship with Kim who was known for drinking, I have never drunk any alcohol, well until today. He gave me a glass full of brown fluid.

“I- I can’t believe we did that.” I laughed as Jisung was holding my hand walking on an abandoned street in the middle of nowhere. He had given me a big sip of the whiskey, it was a burning sensation of my taste buds being confused and curious for more.

“It’s better, not being sober right?” He asked stumbling into the sunset.The bitter taste of the alcohol and the adrenaline of me running away with a friend of my brother without his permission. I felt every single touch of his hand tightening and holding my hand in his clutches not letting go.

“Come on drink it, Y/N. The painkillers are not going to help you any better than Jackie will.” He smiled and waved the glass in front of my nose. I mean I never was drunk and I want to know what it’s like. My curiosity and stupidity have gotten control of me and I accepted with a shaky hand.

I took a small sip of the whiskey and the bitter and stinging sensation was so disgusting. I couldn’t swallow it and started to look around for somewhere to spit it at. But with Jisung forcing me to look up at him with his fingers, pushing my head upwards.

“Swallow it, now.” his eyes burning holes into mine and letting me breathless with no other choice other than swallow. I gulped the fluid down and the burn in my throat was unbelievably harsh.

“Good girl, now. If Seungmin sees your ass drunk this will be very dangerous for both us. Do you have any other clothes or is this everything you’ve got?” He already searched in his closet and gave me a black hoodie with some jeans.

“Here you go. Hurry up, my mom is not going to keep him for any longer.” He went upstairs and left me with there a little tipsy and with some clothes from this boy that I barely knew.

After getting them on I noticed the size difference, Jisung has it in L. On me it was XXL. The size was really funny and the jeans that should hug his waist like they are on the ones he is wearing, are now hanging from my pelvic bone. I saw my reflection of the mirror and busted out in laughter.

Jisung came down and looked at my new outfit, and laughed as well. He came in front of me and squished my cheeks. He played with them and ruffled my hair into a mess, I officially am looking like I just woke up with my PJ’s.

“You look so cute, this stuff is the tightest clothing that I have and your body is just sliding through.” He smiled and looked into my eyes, his hands still cupping my cheeks. A strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes leaving him, mixing with his cologne.

He stepped back and admired this baggy look. He had a hand on his chin, thinking about what can make it look even better than it already does. With an idea in his mind he sought for.... a belt.

He took the of course black belt and put it over my waist. I almost wanted to remind him that I am not a toddler and can put on a belt myself, but the sudden closeness of him and his firm grip on his jeans on me. My heart did a small tap dance, but he continued to put it on with no sign of hesitation.

“This looks better. Take your shoes and let’s get out of here.” Trouble, that was what I am going to get after this. Am I out of my mind going with Jisung with no other thought? Am I dumb for trusting this dude that threw up on his teacher's chest in the hallway last year?

He packed his bag with a shit ton of bottles and some other stuff that I don’t even want to know what it is, the curiosity of what is in this bag now really bugged me. What did he have in this bag? He started to notice my glare on his black backpack.

“You ever had drugs, little one?” He asked as if it was the most normal thing to ask a 16-year-old. If I ever had drugs, the small sips of this weird and burning stuff and the coffee I had in the morning.

“N-No.” My stutter surprised me and the sudden tension started to get harder and intense. My subconscious shouted in my head to get out and go home with Seungmin, but this Jisung really had something and I wanted to explore that.

“There’s always a first time and I needed to go out anyway. You wanna meet my friends?” His smirk was absolutely precious and there was no way in hell that I could say no to this face. After my agreement, he smiled even brighter than before. He took some of his rings and gave those to me and some chains. I looked so different from what I daily wear and with a hat my appearance was complete.

“I-It’s so much better. Not having this pressure.” After another big gulp of the whiskey, he threw the bottle to the road and opened his bag. A see-through water like a bottle. He gave it to me and I opened it after some seconds of struggle. We stumbled through the sunset of the lonely and empty roads of a beautiful panorama.

“Le-Let’s sit down for a while. I am so ti-tired.” I laughed and sat down on the empty road. He joined me and took the opened vodka bottle from me and took a small sip after gasping dramatically and getting a green bag out of his pocket. It looked like leaves and after a long time of finding out what it was, I knew it when he started to build a joint.

I took the bottle and drank the alcohol. I couldn’t believe this scenario, I am drunk and I am about to get high. I will get so much damage for this one night, but it still felt like it was a Bonnie and Clyde after play. Such a euphoric moment, and a moment I would’ve never have dreamed of.

So deep in my own thoughts and my own actions and with this alcohol in my hands, I didn’t see that Jisung was already done with his work. He saw my lazy eyes and pointed out to his bag.

“Hey, listen to music on my phone the code is 0325.” I crawled over to his bag and searched for the perfect song and here it was. New Flesh by the Current Joys, a carefree and a lighthearted song. The song started playing and Jisung snickered.

“I start to really learn a new si-side of you. Little miss Y/N.” He finished his joint and licked it clean. He grabbed in his bag and pulled out speakers. This bag really is a survival kit. He connected them to his phone and the music blasted out with such an enormous volume.

He took out his lighter and the fire sneaked it’s way through the marijuana and gives out a really unique smell. He seemed relaxed and fell on his back. He now was lying on the hard and cold cement road, his little relaxing tool between his fingers.

“So you never smoked before, like ever?”He has gotten up again and let his arm over my shoulder, giving me a really focused look.

“N-Nah.” I giggled for no reason. My head felt dizzy and my vision getting blurry after breathing in second-hand smoke.

“So I’m gonna show you, ho-how to do it the right way.” He smiled and almost closing his eyes completely.

He took my face into his hand and held the joint on the other hand. He gave it to me and I held it the best way I could, trying to let it fall down. I took a big hit and coughed all of the smoke out in a matter of 3 seconds.

He laughed uncontrollably and as he was laughing my head started to turn, my stomach started to growl and my mouth was getting dry. I honestly did not expect it to work that easily but I felt the difference in my body. I took another puff of it and another.

With a little time it has gotten easier and better to not cough. Jisung after not talking for what seemed like a whole eternity, started to notice that the sky is getting darker. He saw a whole field next to the road and threw his stuff in there and threw himself as well.

“Come here! The field is soft.” He shouted from his new spot and I giggled and jumped on top of him. His laugh resounded through the emptiness surrounding us and my giggle became a little quieter when I felt his hand on my hip. As before, when he put on the belt for me, my face grew hot and my eyes stayed on him and I played with his hair. He stroked my body with his fingertips, it feeling like electric wires rushing through my hot body.

I leaned down and then kissed his soft lips. Right at this moment I didn’t care about anyone. My brother, my parents, my friends not even my own thoughts that screamed in my head to cut it off and go home. I wanted to live and wanted to enjoy, feel this moment. Exactly live in this moment right here and there. In a field in the middle of nowhere with the music still blasting somewhere near us and the taste of alcohol still running through my mouth and most importantly, Jisung being right here and there.

“I d-don’t want to pressure you to anything, Y/N.-” I shushed him up with another kiss and his smile making the butterflies in my tummy explode into a mess. He tucked on his hoodie and leaned into my ear.

“I am sure you look even better without my hoodie on.”

I giggled loudly, his hand getting lost on the inside of my hoodie. Grasping on my bra and massaging it softly. My world turning in circles and the music still playing on the highest volume from the speakers, somewhere in the grass.

“I want you, now.” I said, looking down to him. I took off my hoodie and threw it next to Jisung beneath me. His hands still on me, my hair falling down to the side of his face. I was needy and what could feed this hunger was him.

“If your brother could see his little girl…” he smiled at my face being some small inches in front of his. the taste of the marijuana in my mouth mixed with the strong vodka and whiskey was driving me into the dumbest things.

I kissed his soft lips, touching them a little and his tongue rolling with mine. He tasted like danger and everything forbidden for me, giving me a thrill of my life. I continued to go down his neck, sucking the best I could making it hard due to the lack of energy.

“You’re doing great, little one.” He moaned when I once reached his hard and perky abs, leaving a trail of bruises and hickeys all the way down here. He groaned once I unlocked his belt and pushed his jeans down to his boxers. The outline of his dick was hardly poking out, getting me to an idea of my first blowjob ever.

I pulled the off and there he was, poking at me. The hard and red tip, cum dripping on them slightly. I took him in my hands, carefully pumping him. His eyes following my actions his whines and stares telling me to put him in my mouth, I couldn’t get him all in, him laughing at me trying my hardest to deepthroat.

“Your little mouth is amazing.” He mumbled with his eyes closed tightly, his hands getting lost in my hair. Moans and grunts getting me wetter and wetter. I couldn’t breathe and with my mouth being filled up completely, my eyes turning to the back of my head.

I backed up and took some time to breathe, a string of saliva connecting my lips with his wet and throbbing dick. He pushed his hair back, his hand still on my head, grabbing and pulling at it hardly. I choked lightly on his pressure on my head, pushing me down and forcefully getting me down. After some seconds of complete silence he let go and a broken groan echoed through my dizzy head.

“Uh fuck, how can this small mouth get all that in?” He smiled looking down at me with his lazy eyes on the string of saliva connecting his tip to my lips. I started to laugh out, the feeling of a dick in my mouth reminding me of a Popsicle. He laughed as well, this whole scenario being unbelievable. It was deep dark outside, the only light being the lanterns of the side street and the moon, shining out heavily. The wheat among us, the music that still played beside us.

He suddenly stopped giggling immediately and closed his eyes. His head was thrown to the ground and he held my head in his hands, still thrusting into my mouth hardly.

“Wh-Where can I c-cum?” He stuttered and I just continued to bop my head down his length, feeling every inch in my mouth, I choked a little on the twitch of his cock. “Fuuuck.” He groaned loud through the hard beats of the music. I felt his dick twitch again in my throat and as I moaned the vibrations got him to spill his load into my mouth. The warm liquid running through my throat, I choked once again and the shivers went down my spine mercilessly.

“Ah fuck.” He tried to collect his breath, moaning more curse words. I still sucked at the tip and popped him out of my mouth, his seeds running down my lips. I looked up at his brown eyes, stars above us reflecting in them. He had the warmest and softest expression on his face, starring down at my cum filled mouth, trying my hardest to swallow everything.

“Now it’s your turn, princess.”

227 notes · View notes

gusu-emilu · 4 years ago

Text

Cantatio: Chapter Six

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Lan Zhan fumbles through an attempt to explain himself to Wen Qing. Later, Wei Ying does something shocking during detention in the library.

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T - read on AO3

< Ch. 5 | Ch. 7 > | chapter list

“You will not speak a word to anyone about what you saw last night,” Wen Qing said.

Lan Wangji nodded compliantly. He had to tilt his head down to make eye contact with her, but the advantage of height did not offer much assurance against her sharp tongue.

Wen Qing pursed her lips and drew in a slow breath. A question hovered in the air between them like an arrow she was about to shoot into Lan Wangji’s skull. He waited for it with a twinge of unease, ready to recoil internally.

“Why were you in my room?” she demanded.

“I do not know.”

“Well, there must have been some reason you walked in.”

“I did not walk in.”

Wen Qing cocked an eyebrow and said with biting sarcasm, “So I suppose you teleported, then?”

Lan Wangji scanned the area around them. The other disciples paced leisurely through the clearing. A few stood in pods underneath the terraced walkway that led to the central part of the Cloud Recesses. Some were telling stories with extravagant hand gestures, others were speaking quietly with dignified nods. Snippets of their dialogue such as ‘moustache’ and ‘beetle monster’ and ‘scared of Madam Yu’ reached Lan Wangji’s ears. As he had hoped, everyone was immersed in their own business.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Lan Wangji inclined his head.

“You’re telling me you teleported into my room.”

“Mn.”

“I’m surprised, Second Young Master Lan. You don’t strike me as the type to crack jokes—especially not ill-placed ones. At least you aren’t as tactless as Wei Wuxian.”

Irritation filled Lan Wangji at the reminder of his heart plummeting in fright at the trick Wei Wuxian played. “I am truthful.”

Wen Qing shook her head in defeat. “I can’t have a reasonable conversation with anyone around here,” she said, more so to herself than to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji was caught off guard by the sadness hidden in her voice. He searched her face for some explanation, but soon arrived at one himself.

Even if Wen Qing’s place in the Wen Clan put her at odds with the rest of the cultivation world, she was still just a girl. Although she had a close bond with her brother, she didn’t seem to get along with Wen Chao—nor did Lan Wangji imagine she wanted to—and even her roommates regarded her with caution. If she were shrewd, as Lan Wangji perceived that she was, then she would not be quick to trust anyone here.

She was alone.

Deep within himself, Lan Wangji recognized a parallel between them. Both relied on their brothers for most of their social interaction. Both had frigid personalities that would already keep their peers at a distance, and deepening that gap were the reputations that preceded them: Wen Qing as an extension of all that was ruthless and unjust, and Lan Wangji as an aloof, stone-faced image of perfection. Lan Wangji did not believe either of these perceptions were true.

“I will converse with you.”

Wen Qing shot a bewildered look at Lan Wangji, like he was an unappealing suitor who had just proposed to her. Or perhaps she thought it was another vexatious joke. Lan Wangji was not very good at telling the difference.

She scoffed. “What is there to say?”

“I am sorry for intruding in your room. I was teleported there by a closet.”

“By a what?”

Lan Wangji blinked at her. He did not think he would get this far in the conversation.

“If you don’t explain to me, I’m going to assume you’re mocking me, and walk away.”

“In my dormitory, I heard your scream from within my closet. After I opened it, I was in your bedchambers.”

Wen Qing placed two fingers on her temple and squinted. “You expect me to believe this?”

His only answer was to watch her expectantly.

The levers cranked in her mind as she weighed how to respond. “Okay then. I’ll come to your room tonight and see for myself.”

A jolt of panic shook Lan Wangji.

Just as boys were not permitted to enter girls’ rooms at night, neither was the reverse acceptable. Lan Wangji was not about to break this rule two days in a row.

“It is prohibited.”

“Then I don’t believe you, and I don’t accept your apology.”

Lan Wangji frowned. It was understandable if Wen Qing did not believe this farcical story—he barely believed it himself—but he could already feel the gaping hole in his honor if she did not forgive his intrusion.

“The closet is locked. You cannot enter.”

“Oh, isn’t that convenient.”

Lan Wangji clicked his teeth together. He was becoming frustrated.

“I will research this topic and prove my honesty.”

“How? No one’s ever heard of a teleportation closet. And why would it connect to my room, of all places?”

As far as Lan Wangji knew, she was right. He stared at the ground in embarrassment, as if the tiny pebbles scattered through the grass had any chance of holding an answer.

He expected Wen Qing to walk away, but she stood there silently analyzing him.

“You know, if you stretch your imagination, the concept is kind of similar to a qiankun pouch,” Wen Qing said. Her tone was much gentler than before.

Again, she was right. A qiankun pouch was only slightly larger than a teacup, but it was charmed to hold an item of almost any size. It was possible that a closet portal could operate under similar principles.

Lan Wangji looked up and met Wen Qing’s measured, moonlike eyes.

“That’s where we’ll start, then,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the library after class. Oh, and by the way. I want to thank you again for fighting that beetle monster. And thanks for sticking up for my brother. He likes you.”

Without giving Lan Wangji a chance to answer, she whirled around and speeded away, her steps quick, graceful, and determined. It had only been there for a second, but Lan Wangji thought he had seen a soft smile on her face before she hid it from his view. She glided down the covered walkway to where Wen Ning waited for her.

Did that go well? Lan Wangji thought so, but he wasn’t completely sure.

“Second Young Master Lan,” said a frigid voice.

Lan Wangji turned. Song Lan stood a few paces away from him.

“Daozhang,” he said with a bow.

“The pixiu which you and Young Master Jin animated was one of the stronger samples. Good job.”

“Thank you, Daozhang.”

Despite the words of praise he had shared, Song Lan wore a frown on his chiseled yet delicate face. His grey eyes flicked around imperceptibly, studying Lan Wangji with a snowy calmness as if waiting for something.

Perhaps he sensed that Lan Wangji had a question.

“Daozhang, can a guardian spirit be animated without draining one’s energy?”

He paused in thought. “It is not unheard of, but it is neither common nor simple. It would only be successful on the most insignificant spirits.”

“How is it performed?”

Song Lan’s eyes shimmered. “It is not to be practiced.”

The itch of curiosity at the back of Lan Wangji’s throat morphed into a thirst for retribution. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to report Wei Wuxian by name.

“A disciple has.”

“Are you sure?”

Lan Wangji thinned his lips and looked down at the sunbathed grass.

He was not sure. He had an idea. But more than anything, he was just painfully curious.

“It is extremely unlikely,” Song Lan said. “I am sorry that I did not witness what transpired. I had been speaking to Young Master Jin Guangyao. Please excuse your professor’s inattentiveness.”

Lan Wangji remembered the moments during the lesson that Song Lan had stared at Jin Guangyao. Most high-ranking cultivators would have ignored a servant like Jin Guangyao. What had caught his interest?

“Leave this matter at rest for now.”

Lan Wangji bowed and departed from Song Lan’s class with many more questions than he had when he first arrived.

At least the library might help him answer some of them. Wen Qing would be there to help.

Unfortunately, they would not be the only ones in the library. Wei Wuxian would also be there for detention. And Lan Wangji had to supervise him.

Would he ever be able to escape from Wei Wuxian?

* * *

The rest of the day’s classes passed without nearly as much commotion as Ancient Texts or Beings & Creatures. Wen Chao had surpassed Wei Wuxian as the biggest troublemaker of the afternoon, but his self-entitled yapping and arrogant criticizing—albeit annoying—was ultimately harmless. He had only risen to the rank of teacher’s pest because Wei Wuxian had relinquished the title.

Wei Wuxian must have sensed that Lan Wangji was upset with him for the pixiu prank. He seemed to bite his tongue more often, canning his prior shamelessness and disruptiveness. As a result, Jiang Cheng’s face loosened so much that he looked a year younger, a remarkable feat for someone who was still a teenager.

In Madam Yu’s Alchemy & Medicine class, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were assigned to the same table. Their seats directly faced each other. Lan Wangji did not make eye contact once.

The class followed Madam Yu’s shrill orders to concoct a remedy for insomnia from ginseng and dragon-eye lychee. When Wei Wuxian turned to Jiang Cheng to ask for a handful of jujube seeds—"Use the ones in your kit, dumbass! These are mine!”—“They were in my kit this morning! I don’t know where they went!”—Madam Yu appeared behind Wei Wuxian to slap him in the back of the head. Spidery sparks escaped from her ring Zidian and made the boy’s hair stand on end with purple static. She announced that his grade would be lowered for missing ingredients.

For the entire class, Wei Wuxian stole concerned, furtive glances at the jade-like young man across from him.

Not that any of those things mattered to Lan Wangji.

The best class had been Swordsmanship & Weaponry with Jiang Fengmian and his graduate assistant Nie Mingjue. The two instructors guided the disciples in complementary fighting styles: one swift and calculated, one forceful and explosive.

Lan Wangji was grateful that they practiced a round of actual sparring instead of being limited to solitary drills. A spirited battle with Jiang Cheng allowed Lan Wangji to release some of the anger bottled inside him. Jiang Cheng let out some demon of his own.

At the end of their match, the two nodded to each other with hesitant respect. Not the respect of acquaintances or rivals, but the respect of two troubled souls who shared similar sources of distress, and who mutually decided to pretend that they didn’t recognize this in each other.

Having channeled his frustration into a structured activity, Lan Wangji felt clean and refreshed, like the crystal-clear water of the creek that babbled along the perimeter of the Cloud Recesses.

Now it was off to the library for detention.

When Lan Wangji arrived in the circular library chamber, there was no one there. He guessed that Wei Wuxian was romping around with his friends, delaying his punishment, and would not show up for a while. Unprofessional.

Then Lan Wangji would enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

In the center of the library was a semicircular platform. Atop the platform was a low, long desk, and at its back were towering tan panels bordered with rich wood and pressed against cubby shelves of books and scrolls. The outline of the room contained smaller desks at evenly spaced intervals, each equipped with calligraphy pens, an ink well, a waxy candle, and a bronze incense burner.

More shelves lined the walls and were filled with countless tomes, some with bold titles that proclaimed their subject matter across the room, some with their colors fading from their bindings. In bright sections underneath the tall windows, the dark brown floor reflected fuzzy rectangles of blue light.

The air was heavy and a bit dusty. When Lan Wangji breathed in the thick scent, he could sense the ancient wisdom of the room’s contents that seeped into its cozy atmosphere.

Libraries never failed to put Lan Wangji at ease.

It was a pity that he would soon be disrupted.

He sifted through a row of books until he found two copies of the Gusu Lan Clan rules. Upon pulling them out, a pleasant musty smell danced across his nose. He placed one book on a desk on the far end of the room, another on the larger desk on the central platform, then sat down behind the latter. He straightened a sheet of parchment on the table, dipped a brush in the viscous black ink, and began copying the first page of the Gusu Lan Clan rules.

Take the straight path. Uphold the value of justice. Preserve your honor.

Intentionally or not, Lan Wangji had broken his code of honor by entering Wen Qing’s room and withholding information of the closet portal from his superiors. If no one would hold him accountable, he would do so himself.

It was a mere coincidence that this was the same punishment he had assigned to Wei Wuxian.

Footsteps scuffed at his right. “Erm. Hi, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian stood in the doorway of the library, his hand resting on the wall to his left. Like a gloomy figure against a miniature sky, he cast a shadow into the patch of hazy blue reflection on the dark floor.

Without looking up, Lan Wangji gestured impassively toward the desk that held the second copy of the Gusu Lan Clan rules, then returned to his writing.

Wei Wuxian walked over and kneeled behind the desk. His posture was stiff and meek.

"You know, I had only been planning to play a trick on Nie Huaisang. I hadn’t expected you to run over like that.”

The candle upon Lan Wangji’s table flickered with a soft crackle.

“You were worried about me…I should have thanked you, not scared you. I really appreciate that you came over. I seriously do.”

Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, but his brush strokes did not waver.

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry.”

Something began to melt inside Lan Wangji like the wax of the candle.

How could he refuse a sincere apology?

“…Second Young Master Lan?”

He looked up.

“Wei Ying.”

A smile crept across Wei Wuxian’s face. The sound of his birth name immediately closed the distance between them, a tie that threaded the string of unspoken forgiveness.

Lan Wangji was shocked by how quickly it happened.

Something inside him had whispered, Do not call me Second Young Master Lan. You put us on a birth name basis. I like it and you cannot retract it.

Of course, those words came nowhere close to his lips.

Wei Wuxian leaned forward. “You have something to say, Lan Zhan?”

“Speaking is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses library. Begin copying.”

Wei Wuxian tossed his hands in the air, then let them thump down onto his thighs in exasperation. “Aiya, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get started.”

Several minutes passed. The silence was only interrupted by the swishing of horsehair brushes on smooth paper, the whistling of birds, and the distant calls of youthful voices.

Despite having ordered Wei Wuxian not to speak, Lan Wangji still waited for him to divulge how he had animated the pixiu in Song Lan’s class, like he promised he would share during detention. What if he really did use some forbidden technique?

But instead, Wei Wuxian said, “Lan Zhan, what are you writing?”

Lan Wangji’s only reply was to quicken the pace of his hand.

Wei Wuxian appeared at his side and peered over his shoulder. He held a single sheet of paper in front of his chest as if it were a flower he had picked. The side of the paper with writing was hidden from Lan Wangji.

“Are you…are you doing my punishment for me? Do you really love me that much?”

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw in alarm. He lifted his brush from the page to stop himself from smudging the character he was in the middle of writing.

“Lan Zhan, why are you copying the rules too?”

He turned to stare into Wei Wuxian’s dark silvery eyes, only to dart his gaze away after less than a second.

“It does not concern you. Sit down.”

“Wait, I have something to give you first!” He waved the parchment, still concealing the side with writing.

Wei Wuxian wanted him to see the single page he had copied? First of all, he should have completed five pages by now. Second of all, what was the reason for showing it off?

The sheet of porcelain-white paper floated onto Lan Wangji’s desk. It did not contain an array of messily written characters like he had expected.

It was a portrait.

Of himself.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 7 > | chapter list

#mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #wangxian fanfiction #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #wangxian fanfic #mdzs #the untamed #cql #cantatio #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #wen qing #song lan #song zichen #emilu talks

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ai-martino · 3 years ago

Text

The sun rises calmly and so the waves. While everyone is brewing coffee I get to walk quickly on the seashore, with the comfort of waves and coffee aroma I am able to find peace. I am still in shock of how my life is going, how I survive everyday, how I endure this heavy heart but God is just so good for giving me such an extra-ordinary strenght. I stepped on the water to feel how refreshing it is while floating with the waves, how I wish I could live like this everyday, far from cruel environment.

All of my colleagues are busy talking about random topics. I silently listen to them and unknowingly giggles with some of their jokes. Giggling is not my typical thing so everytime I do, everyone will surely throw a surprise look. One of my classmates invites me for a sandbar party tonight, though I am not into this kind of stuff but I wanted to try, so I gave her a nod.

After an hour of random talks and coffee, our coordinator Mrs. Punsalan called us to start the retreat, it was an activity hosted by "An Open Door Foundation Inc." a foundation where I am volunteering as an art teacher.

I finished Mass Communication course, its surprisingly ironic to what I really am so I pursue journalism, I focused more on writing, admittedly, I had written various novels and donated all the proceeds to various foundations where I grew up.

Yes! I was a foundling, I grew up without a family. When sister Jelli saw me at the street, I was barefooted, ripped clothes, devastated face, bruises and wounds caused me chills and I almost see heaven that time. So I kinda' hate this kind of activity especially when being asked to think of something most unforgettable.

It doesn't ease me, it hurts me even more.

The retreat is getting into a deep emotions. Some of them are crying while hugging each other, some are yelling for forgiveness I stayed in silence and turn a stare at nowhere. I have no one to apologize to because no one will forgive, I have no one to forgive because no one apologizes, perhaps I cannot cry because I am empty.

I waited for the retreat to be over and everyone to come out. I wanted to leave the room last. No particular reason, I just wanted to be alone. I stayed at the retreat room for a couple of hours and take the opportunity to write.

While enjoying my writing someone bumped on the door. It is really strong that it almost breaks. I hurriedly stood up to see who was bumping.. my eyes almost came out to see a tall-beardy-hunk man in a white sando and a boxer! With a glass of whisky on his hand Holy shit!! He really has a huge balls. I pushed him away , immediately close the door and lean for a second with eyeballs still bulging, I am still in shock with those things. So I take a deep breath before I open the door again to check if he is still there.

*guy murmurs*

In a most decent and prim act I checked on him, wakes him up but gain no response, I slowly grab the glass of whisky from his hand and inspect whether he has a phone or an identity card to know his name, but everytime I turn a look at the bottom I am so bothered of that huge thing! I dunno but some part of my mind is telling me to touch it but I really can't!, the form is quiet scary. I grab his wrist to check his pulse and it seems normal, maybe he just passed out due to excessive alcohol intake.

I can't carry him in, I have been calling Shey my bestfriend but she's not attending calls, there were no telephone at the retreat room and the reception area is quiet far so I left him outside and I think he deserves it, I hope when he wakes up he will learn self-control.

But wait! Ain't that evil as you think, don't worry guys I left the door open so he can get inside if he gain consciousness.

* The guy groans, while crawling inside*

I almost jumped on my feet with that groan! I can see him crawl,he's really crazy, he crawls like a zombie! I hide under the table trying not to look at him and take small steps to escape..

" So, you are leaving again?"

I freeze when he suddenly speaks, he get up from the floor and walk towards me, my toes are trembling as he look at me like a serial killer, his drunk eyes are really scary, he come very close that our nose are almost touching, I can smell the alcohol in his breath that almost caused me to throw out.

With a shaking hands I pushed him away I haven't had a strong muscles to knock him down but a little space is enough to do an escape. He stared at me and he was crying, then he turn back and leads me to the door. I run as fast as I could. I was about to call the police to report him abusive but the appearance of sadness on his face melts my heart; and all that had happen that morning remain a secret.

The breezing touch of sand and waves gradually calm my heart as I convey myself in the seashore. Playing with the sand and scattered seashells are also my hobby. The sun is about to touch the horizon so I sat down to watch the sunset and take a picture.

" I can take you a picture, if you want Ma'am"

A gentle guy offers me a help to catch the beautiful sunset view for a pic. Without a second thought, I agreed.

" Thank you so much......?"

"I'm Nix , a resident photographer of this resort, if you don't mind may I know your name Ma'am?"

" Alodia"

" Nice to meet you Ma'am Alodia"

" You can call me my name, no need to attach "Ma'am" on it, its too formal and it makes me feel old."

His face blushes after saying him such words. I don't intend to offend nor intimidate so I offer him a handshake which he accepts politely.

" A---lodia, Im actually strolling around, looking fo a scenematic view to capture, if you are free, can you join me?"

I don't think i have an idea to refuse, so I join him and we stroll around the resort. he introduced to me every corner of every places of the resort, he's very entertaining that he never allows a single moment to be unuseful.

He handed me his camera and encourage me to try to capture a scene of the setting sun. Im a little shy to try because I don't really have a skill on photography but he seems very persistent that I can't disagree.

It was the first time I had a long conversation with a stranger like being so generous of my laughters and time, I don't know but I am so relieved when I am with him.

We almost didn't notice that its merely dinner, I'm starting to worry because I didn't get to inform Shey and Mrs. Punzalan about what I am doing, since I haven't join them for an activity after the retreat. I bade goodbye to Nix and extend my appreciation of a free tour and entertainment.

He walked me on the way to our Villa, my colleagues are there, preparing for dinner. Shey, run towards me and gave a tight hug. She paused for awhile when she saw Nix behind me, I can see in her eyes that she's concluding a controversial thoughts about me and Nix, so I speak ahead before she was able to tell controversies.

In a very manly manner, Nix offer a handshake to shey and Introduce himself. Shey has a little shyness yet a huge interest with him, ( i can tell because she has that awkward mannerism of curling and flipping her hair everytime she sees a handsome man) well they're a good match.

I left them for awhile and head straight to an outdoor kitchen where the foods are being prepared. Some of my colleagues are murmuring while staring at Shey and Nix

Im a little curios why but I don't bother to ask , instead I reminded them for a sandbar party tonight.

#my writing #thriller #mystery series #stories

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 4 years ago

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My laptop is currently updating, so while I have that working in the background, I wanted to share a series of six short, mostly-opera-inspired autobiographical narratives/prose poems I wrote last April and May:

I would kill to have some wine right now.

There is a bottle of red wine sitting on the kitchen counter. My father bought it when he went to the store the other day─ don’t ask me what day it was, I don’t remember, the days already blend together as is─ and I have considered pouring even just a little bit into a glass and downing it.

And then proceeding to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it.

I’ve been contemplating doing that a lot lately.

True, I would kill to have some wine, but if I did go ahead and pour even just a little bit into a glass, and down it, and possibly then proceed to throw the glass against the wall and shatter it, I would most likely be killed before I had the chance to kill.

Kill or be killed. We are all trying our very best to do neither these days, but it happens anyway.

I am sixteen years old. As I start writing this, I am nine days away from turning seventeen. For me, alcohol consumption is thus not only not approved by the Parents, but also illegal. But then again, so is voting blue in the 2020 US Presidential election. That is also something neither approved by the Parents nor legal for me. But I digress.

Thirty-one, twenty-nine, thirty-one again, sixteen now, that makes sixty, ninety-one, one hundred and seven days since I watched one of my classmates get drunk at a New Year’s Eve party. She downed a whole bottle of peach wine (I didn’t even know that was a thing) and looked at me with her red eyes and silver-sequined halter top and curly dark brown hair in a high ponytail. You’re more beautiful than Jesus she told me and you’ll go to the moon on a rocketship. I laughed.

I laugh when something’s so unexpected I can’t do anything else. I laughed when I first heard Notre Dame Cathedral had caught fire because it seemed so ludicrous that I couldn’t do anything else. Notre Dame on fire? You can’t be serious, it can’t be serious.

It was serious.

I’m not sure if she was.

A little part of me wishes she were.

When I was in sixth grade, I told the same girl I thought her hair was luscious. Sixth-grade me didn’t know the word had a sexual connotation; the girl did and was offended.

Maybe a little part of me did know, somehow.

***

As I write this next part, I am working on a paper about state-sponsored censorship. I have picked this topic because it is a fascinating topic, it fits the requirements for the paper─ write about a major global problem─, and because I feel censored myself.

Expressing anything that conflicts with the Parents’ thoughts and opinions is strictly forbidden. If you are different, you are ostracized. I am different, so I am ostracized.

I am too proud, too strong to succumb. But it still hurts.

As I write this, I am listening to Act IV of Rossini’s Guillaume Tell, an opera about liberation, appropriate for both me and my paper. At this moment, Hedwige is calling on God, ‘the hope of the hopeless’, to save her husband and break the yoke of oppression that binds Switzerland.

It’s very nice, and the sentiment is good and true, and it works for her and Mathilde and Jemmy and the Swiss women, but it does not work for me. I lost my faith a long time ago. Ironically, it is French grand opéra, the genre to which Guillaume Tell belongs, that is partially responsible for my loss of faith.

It was impossible for me to watch Verdi’s Don Carlos for the first time in eighth grade and Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots in tenth and not be horrified by the things people do in the name of religion, to kill people senselessly just because they believe slightly differently than them─ even their own daughters (as is the finale of Les Huguenots).

How can a good God allow such things?

Do I realize these works are fictional? Yes. But do I know they are based on history, on real events? Yes.

“These things are meant to happen; they are all in God’s plan.” Well, can God just not find another way to make what’s meant to happen happen? I cannot believe in a God that allows these things to happen. To say that an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-good God who can allow such things exists is a lie.

***

Now that Guillaume Tell is over, I am listening to another grand opéra, Les vepres siciliennes, albeit in its Italian version, I vespri siciliani. Another opera about occupation and liberation, but a liberation that comes at a horrible cost: the entire French ruling class is massacred by the Sicilians at the end of the opera.

If I didn’t care, I would stage my own personal ‘massacre’: I would turn my back, walk out the front door with the possessions I most needed to survive on my own, and never come back.

But I do care. They may not care, but I do.

One of my greatest curses is that I care about what I care about too much. My heart is too deep to not care.

There are some battles that are not worth being fought.

If a massacre is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing. Or, at least try to find another way.

Right now, I am at the beginning of Act III, at Monforte’s aria “In braccio alle dovizie”. In the original French, it’s called “Au sein de la puissance”. At the breast of power.

Monforte is the hated French governor of Sicily, the revolutionaries’ primary target. When he sings this, he has just learned that one of the main revolutionaries, Arrigo, is his long-lost illegitimate son.

By rape.

‘The breast of power’ indeed.

Just like with a massacre, if rape is your only recourse to accomplish something, perhaps you should not do that thing either.

Just a thought.

I’m a woman. What do I know, in the eyes of many out there?

One of my friends said that Verdi gave Monforte his just deserts, but also overly beautiful music. “He couldn’t help it, though, not when his Dad Music Instincts were activated.”

I feel guilty listening to the aria, even though it is truly a beautiful piece and the recording I’m listening to─ a 1989 recording from the Teatro alla Scala, with Giorgio Zancanaro as Monforte─ is absolutely gorgeous.

Can we separate the music from the character, the art from the artist? I do not know. Everyone has something utterly heinous to someone else. Once we stop separating the art from the artist, where do we begin again? And yet, I do not want to support people who do horrible things to others.

Perhaps it is all relative.

Perhaps everything is.

Perhaps nothing is absolute at all.

That frightens me.

***

Today is Rome’s 2,773rd birthday. As a six-year Latin student and future classics and history double-major, this is cause for celebration.

If things were normal and I were at school, my Latin teacher would bring birthday cake for all the Latin students, and we’d eat it and sing “Felix dies natalis, Roma”. Happy Birthday, Rome.

But things are not normal, and I’m at home multitasking between this and a presentation script for that paper, and still listening to I vespri siciliani.

Now I’m at the end of Act IV. Everyone is celebrating the impending marriage of Arrigo to Duchess Elena, one of the Sicilian revolutionary leaders. Sicilian and French, united at last. Everything is set to work out.

But there’s still Giovanni da Procida, the other major revolutionary leader, who is hellbent on revenge. He sees this wedding as the perfect opportunity to strike down the French once and for all.

And thus, the massacre.

Everything can be set to work out, but there is always something that comes up. A massacre, a pandemic, a set of internal troubles that bring a proud empire to its ruin.

Now I’m in Act V, at Elena’s bolero ‘Merce, dilette amiche’. She has no idea about Procida’s plans; she’s just excited to marry Arrigo and bring peace to her beloved Sicily at last. I think I’m going to change operas again after this is over; the act is rather uneven (though I still very much like it) and I would prefer not to listen to everything falling apart today.

I debate listening to Berlioz’s Les Troyens, the closest thing to an opera about the founding of Rome and a masterpiece itself. But there is still too much about collateral damage for my tastes today: one kingdom falls and another loses its benevolent queen, all in the name of a supposedly greater destiny. And that’s just based on the first third of the Aeneid. I wrote an essay about that first third once for English class, using that thesis; my English teacher said it was one of the best essays he’d ever read. But I digress.

After a quick refresher on the synopsis, I decide to change styles and go with a story from the heyday of the Roman Empire: Handel’s Agrippina. Lots of plotting, but everyone gets what they want in the end and it ends happily for all. No collateral damage here. I am weary of that.

Sometimes I feel like collateral damage.

It’s tough to remember that you’re the master of your own story, not just a side character or a scapegoat in so many others’.

Everyone in this opera knows they’re the masters. That’s the problem. But it ultimately works out.

I want nothing more than for it to work out for me. It hasn’t yet.

But I have a feeling it will.

***

I got maybe halfway through the first act of Agrippina yesterday. I love Baroque opera, but I guess only in small doses.

No matter.

Today I’m listening to the beginning of Act II of Verdi’s Don Carlo. This is the fourth time in a row I’ve listened to it.

I read John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down recently. The main character frequently finds herself stuck in ‘thought spirals’, where she keeps thinking more and more about the same thing. I have those too, although I tend to picture my mind more as a bullet train: it always moves hundreds of miles an hour, faster than I can control, from one thought to the next. I constantly find myself retracing the figurative map of my mind to figure out what I was thinking about, what I need to remember but simply cannot. And it’s like my mind keeps returning to the same stations a lot; these are my equivalent to the spirals.

This opera, this moment, is one of my frequent stations.

Make that five times in a row now. This will be the last, I promise myself.

In this scene, a group of monks chant, praying for the rest of the dead Emperor Charles V, whom, I note with a smile, was himself a character in one of Verdi’s earliest operas, Ernani. In that opera, he sings an aria where he confronts his destiny as the next Holy Roman Emperor. My legacy will live throughout the ages, he sings.

Including in two different Verdi operas.

But there I go again on another bullet-train route.

The monks are singing now, their stark minor-major shifts making me feel as if I am there, in the cloister of San Yuste or in any of the great cathedrals of Spain, looking up into the vaults of the ceiling, of heaven itself, seemingly. The only lights come from candles in my mental picture, and I gaze up, my head uncovered, my mind only partially spellbound, more by the visual beauty and the history than by any religious feeling.

I am a heathen.

I have only been inside a Catholic church once, when I was fourteen; it was an impromptu side trip during a school-sponsored tour of colleges in St. Louis. One of the chaperones said the Cathedral Basilica had can’t-miss art, and thus managed to get a large section of the attendees to come with her.

She was right. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen. And that was all I thought.

Okay, that’s a lie. I did wonder what it would be like to be able to have faith again, to be able to kneel in one of the pews, and pray, and believe, as my ancestors have done before me; after all, if religion were something you inherited in your blood, then I would be half-Catholic.

But I cannot kneel and pray and believe.

In this scene, one of the monks claims that Charles V fell because he was too proud, because he believed that he was greater than God. If a god exists, I do not claim to be greater than them. I am not perfect, not by a long shot.

He did not die because he did not believe in God. He died because everyone dies, even those who are supposedly the greatest of us.

God alone is great, the monk proclaims. I do not, cannot believe that. We are all great to begin with, but some of us are led to believe we are not.

We are the masters. I must remember that.

And I realize that I have let it play a sixth time.

Sometimes I am not the master of my own mind.

***

The sixth time was the last.

Now I am at the end of the act, listening to the showdown between Filippo II, King of Spain, and Rodrigo, Marquis di Posa. Filippo is the guardian of the way things are; Verdi called Rodrigo an anachronism, and indeed, he was the only principal character who never existed.

Rodrigo, he said, was at least two centuries ahead of his time.

I don’t know what exactly Verdi’s feelings were about this, but personally, I do not think this is a bad thing. Progressivism is often progressivism in any age.

At any rate, Rodrigo, who has recently returned from Spanish-held Flanders, has taken his chance─ a rare private meeting with the King, who is confused as to why Rodrigo has never approached him for favors like all the other courtiers─ to confront him about the horrific conditions of Flanders and its people. Give them liberty, he pleads.

No. I have given them the same peace I have given Spain.

A horrible peace!, Rodrigo fires back. The peace of the tomb!

We should not have to suffer until death.

Let history not say of you, “He was a Nero.” A murderer of innocents, a torturer of the defenseless, an occupier, a denier of liberty─ perhaps the greatest torture of all.

I once watched a video in which a director said, “To live in an occupied country is to live only half a life.” I would say that to live in an occupied country, or even any place where you cannot be free, cannot live fully as yourself, is not even that. It is to barely live at all. It is to merely have a beating heart and breath.

To live in spite of this, to simply be as you wish, is the ultimate act of defiance.

#notyouraveragejulie writes #(or rather reads old writing)#writing #poetry #poems #prose poems #autobiographical narratives #life in the time of COVID #opera #opera tag #censorship #freedom #also the author would like to note that this was written *before* she saw Agrippina and loved it so those comments aren't 100% accurate now

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balancingthewind · 4 years ago

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boundaries/money shame

I guess I’m really doing this. With the click of a mouse I’ve initiated the chain of catalysts moving me into this new era of my life. I feel somewhat nauseous. But I know this is good.

I’m beginning this era with some fear, but mostly the light-headed surreality of having finally arrived at that distant mountain knowing the difficulty ahead as well as the excitement of the impending summit.

People commonly talk about money shame on one end of a spectrum and, while acknowledging the systemic problems causing generational poverty and the many economic recessions that have affected so many Americans, I need to speak my truth, too.

I come from a family of generational bootstrappers. The old story goes, my father’s grandmother’s family was one of “migrant” cotton-pickers (they’re white and are not immigrants, hence the quotations). My great-grandmother didn’t graduate elementary school, settled in Texas, and bore something like nine children.

Now that I think about it, I don’t know much about her husband, but I do know that their children were brilliant hellions. Many of the stories I hear of their youth involve violence, yet somehow most of them grew up to be moderately successful: chemists, professional athletes, ranchers…

My grandfather and grandmother, however, got pregnant with my father before they graduated high school. Even so, my grandfather got through college by joining the US Air Force, eventually became a dentist, my grandmother a CPA, and eventually had the highest grossing private practice in their metropolitan area.

They even managed to raise thoroughbreds and cattle, and my dad grew up to be a physician, providing a lifestyle of affluence for his young family. Even my siblings have managed to set themselves on a trajectory of extreme financial comfort through academic merit and the opportunities laid out by their efforts and my parents’.

The same cannot be said for myself. While my parents offered to pay for university (with stipulations), I graduated high school with no honors and made it through a year at a state college before I sprang like a compressed coil off into everywhere and nowhere.

Although I’ve managed to regain some semblance of stability by working a job I truly love and foresee longevity in, I still have a number of financial tethers to my parents accounts. Car insurance, phone bill, yoga teacher training… even the house I currently sit in, the lease agreement I have signed, belongs to my parents. My car I purchased from my parents and yet they’ve had to foot most mechanics bills since I’ve had it.

While these aren’t necessarily bad things, the part where it gets complicated is the one where my personal values and ideologies are in some ways fundamentally misaligned with those of my father. So, as part of keeping up the relationship, there are parts of myself that have become integral to the way I navigate the world which I cannot speak, even when the topics and subsequent somatic and emotional responses arise. And when I do, as I did last Thursday, the lid blows sky-high.

That’s what happens when you have trauma responses triggered by specific kinds of interactions, especially with specific people. With my father, stubborn as a bull and convinced of his superior vision, simply presenting your case or citing sources gets you nowhere. It’s a game of looking for loopholes and pulling at the frays of an argument rather than taking the other person’s point seriously.

If this was a legal case and anyone had something to win, I would understand, but when hours of painstaking research and personal transparency mean nothing, when respect will never be mutual, when the end game is being right rather than bringing light… I just can’t fucking do it anymore.

Especially because the argument in question revolved around social justice, particularly racial equality. My father believes he’s not racist, from what I can see, because he’s not as bad as he used to be, how my family has been for generations. Because he “has black friends”, and yet believes that the US government holds no responsibility in taking action to uplift Black communities, that affirmative action was too far of a reach and removed opportunity from deserving white people.

I’ve seen my father say and do some verifiably, outwardly racist white man shit in my life, and really I wouldn’t continue to take issue with that if he had the wherewithal to sit down and really listen to Black activists and try to actually feel something for the Black experience nor attempt to actually change or sacrifice for this cause in the way that I and most of my generation have had to. Instead, he white-knuckles his rusty, fossilized opinions until we’re slamming doors and slinging hatred at the walls.

The kind of change I need to see in him is never comfortable. It takes a critical look at one’s deepest values and an inquiry into the nature of them, whether they’re based in the advantages of a system based upon white supremacy or in the yearning for betterment of all people. It always requires remorse, resolution, and sacrifice, and I don’t know if he’ll ever be willing to take that on.

Another side of the disagreement is the thoroughbred industry itself. I’ve been turning down invitations to the race track for years, but that means nothing when the first thing I see when I turn in my parents driveway is a horse behind a fence. When the dinner table discussion revolves around brood mares and foaling season… my first instinct is to dissociate so I don’t have to hear or feel. Because presence means rage, and I know this is something I can never change about them, and the energetic toll it takes in me to fight with them is massive.

I can no longer ignore the fact that this level of cognitive dissonance is unhealthy for me to engage with. Having a blowout with my father for me means rage crying, sleep loss, and prolonged depression/dissociation, and that’s just some shit I don’t have time for.

Even before this happened I had been on a break with my partner, namely because I feel like my progress is constantly compromised by relationship complications, and I’m starting to feel like I can do better alone - like I’ve been on the verge of taking this step for myself, that of solitude, and have dodged or fumbled every time the opportunity was close for fear of my inability to support myself. I also think that this fear of financial incompetence comes from my money shame for having needed to keep asking for help from people who actively contribute to the colonial damage I wish to give my life to repairing, and from the way money was used to control my youth.

I can’t say that I’ll never speak to them again, especially since my sister’s wedding is coming up quickly, and also because I have no idea what the future will bring. There are many people in my life I swore I’d never speak to again that I now have amicable relationships with.

But my hope is that by setting this first boundary, developing my resilience as this person I am becoming, and making my way without their purse strings attached, I can someday return and see a shift in their beliefs, or at least receive the personal respect I deserve.

That probably won’t happen, that hill of ignorance looks pretty comfortable, but one can hope.

#boundaries #money shame #courage #racial equality #family #bpd #ddnos #mental health

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