#it sucks and it hurts its valid to feel that way about any hint of a cc friendship falling apart but theres nothing we can do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for.

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia

Pairing: Gen

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch.

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered.

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis.

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label.

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information.

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods.

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised.

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well.

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases.

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps.

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes.

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?”

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case.

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner.

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better.

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.”

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully.

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that.

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively.

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away.

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air.

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer.

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand.

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning.

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important.

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.”

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you.

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it.

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it.

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch & spencer #spencer #hotch #my writing #autistic spencer reid #autistic spencer #dad hotch

306 notes · View notes

reluctant-mandalore · 3 years ago

Note

A bi!reader with mando is all of my hopes and dreams. Even if its a blurb I humbly beg of you

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, cuddling, kissing, mentions of biphobia, reference/mention to coming out, hurt/comfort, not beta read.

Word Count: 1036

Pairing: Din Djarin x bi!Reader (also gender neutral)

a/n: I completely forgot someone sent this ask in. It's been in my drafts forever and I'm so sorry to whoever this anon may be. But in case anyone is still interested, here is a short thing about Din being soft and reassuring with bi reader who is a bit down about themselves being bi. Reminding them that they are valid regardless of what others may think. I sometimes struggling with my sexuality a bit (internalized biphobia sucks and biphobes being jerks dont help) and I wish that I had someone there to comfort and support me through it. So that’s what I wrote. Enjoy!

The arm you had around the Mandalorian that night had been tight. His back was facing you at the moment, and you couldn’t stop yourself from nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck to place a kiss there.

Din had let out a tired hum at the feeling of the kiss you had given him, although he hadn’t reacted much otherwise. Clearly he had been intent on making himself get some rest, and you in turn had found yourself inclined to join him in that slumber. Though while laying in the darkness together, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Thoughts of many things filtering in your tired mind, as you found your mind thinking back to the day that you had finally come out to him.

Din had been more accepting of your coming out then what you had honestly expected. In the past coming out as bisexual had been hard, and you had learned very quickly how some people across the Galaxy thought of you. Din on the other hand hadn't seemed bothered by it at all, and nothing much in your relationship had changed when you had told him. He had been supportive and understanding—choosing to listen and learn more about you and your sexuality every step of the way.

Although at times that reassurance couldn’t seem to squash your own unease. Thoughts of “what if?” still seeming to drown out anything else in relation to it—and tonight had been no different in that regard unfortunately.

"You really don't mind that I'm bi?"

Your question had been asked on impulse more then anything, and it had sounded quiet in the darkened space. The lack of an answer from the man had made you wonder if he had already falling sleep. It would have been a logical assumption after all. Today had been busy for you both, and Din in particular had seemed to be very exhausted at the end of it.

"Of course not." He finally mumbled out with a small yawn. His sudden reply nearly making you jump, though thankfully you had resisted doing so. "Do I have any reason to?"

You had shrugged, and soon found yourself tightening your arm around his waist even more—almost as if you were afraid he would leave you in that moment. “I don't know. Others seem to think you should though.”

“Don’t care what others think.” He had said as he had rolled over and shifted in your arms so that he could face you. The sight of his soft brown eyes looking at you so sweetly within the dark having made your heart flutter almost instantly. “Did someone say something again?”

There had been some concern and a hint of anger laced in his words. The Mandalorian had always been protective over you and the kid in general. So when others were known to bother you for your sexuality he had always stood up for you. He made it quite clear that he wasn’t afraid of showing his support when it was needed. He wouldn’t let anyone bring any sort of harm to his family, no matter what it may be, and honestly that thought alone had showed you just how much he cared for you all.

“No not this time.” You had assured him, and he had seemed to relax again at that. Though the concerned look he had held never left his features. “Sometimes I just overthink it I guess.”

“Overthink about what?”

“Like... Like what if I’m actually not bi or something?” An odd feeling of shame had suddenly consumed you at your confession, and quickly you had shyly glanced away from him. “And what if I am just confused like others say? Or maybe I am just faking it like some people insist... Just stuff like that.”

“Cyar’ika.” He said softly. His favourite nickname for you barely sounding above a whisper, but still plenty loud enough for you to hear. “Cyar’ika look at me.”

Din had moved his hand to cup your cheek then. His thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t even known was there until that point. The feeling of his hand bringing you to look back at him, as you had tried to prevent any more tears from falling. “If you identify as bisexual then you’re bisexual. Bisexuality is valid. You are valid.”

“You really think so?” You had managed to choke out. The word’s from you sounding broken and almost fearful.

“I know so. And even in the end if that changes and you decide that you’re actually not bisexual—for whatever reason—that’s ok too.” He had said with a gentle smile, as he had leaned forward to press a brief kiss to your lips before pulling back to gaze at you again. The kindest that his eyes had held helping to bring a feeling of calmness to you. “Only you get to decide and figure out who you are. No one has a say in who are as a person.”

This time it had been Din to wrap you in his embrace. His arms tight and reassuring, as they had cradled you close into his chest. The added closeness allowing him to rest his forehead against your own, as the added gesture had only help more with comforting you away from your dark thoughts.

Though soon he had pulled his forehead back so he could tuck you against his chest again properly. His hold on you strong, but safe feeling. “I know I can’t stop you from thinking such things—and I can’t do much to stop what other people think—but I will always be here to support you.”

“Thank you Din.”

“You don’t need to thank me cyar’ika.” He had paused in thought for a moment. His one had now drawing soothing circles along your back, while you in turn had only nuzzled yourself closer to him. “I love you.”

You had smiled then. Your heart feeling as if it would combust at any second with how cherished he had made you feel. “I love you too.”

It had only been after that exchange where you would finally fall asleep peacefully in his arms. His gentle praises and soft caresses helping to drift you off to sleep. The last few thoughts on your mind being that of Din and love that you two shared.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #star wars #din x reader #din #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #bi reader #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic #mando #mando x reader #my fics #the mandalorian x reader

63 notes · View notes

cicissketchbook · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so sometime ago, I think about five years ago, I saw some things in the tag about how April and Donnie’s interactions were abusive. It angered me greatly because I am of the opinion that misusing that word really devalues it and as a result, real abuse isn’t taken as seriously as it should be. During that time, I wrote this really long piece in the notes app of my phone, one part ranting, one part sharing, basically just putting my frustrations into words. I never posted it because I really didn’t want to open the doors of communication about the topic of abuse. Basically I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where people would try to argue with me about my own experience.

Some time has past now and some people expressed interest in wanting to read that post. I know that those individuals that expressed interest and are coming from a place of respectful curiosity, so this is for everyone else that might stumble across this post.

Trigger warning: this post is about abuse. Not abuse in the show, not abusive characters, this is about real life actual abuse. This is basically me demonstrating why something is not abusive, by showing you what is.

Also, it should go without saying that this is a story that’s very personal to me, I’m being a little bit vulnerable by sharing some aspects of that story. This doesn’t have my whole abuse story, but it has bits and pieces. You don’t have to agree with me, but please at least be respectful.

I’m posting this because people have expressed interest in reading it. If you don’t like it or don’t want to read it, just scroll away.

And bare in mind I wrote most of this like five years ago.

So I saw something in the tag earlier about how someone or some people think Aprils treatment of Donnie is emotionally abusive and I am here to put this to rest right now. I'm sure he bulk of the fandom doesn't think this way, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since I saw it earlier and I'd just like to throw this out there. And honestly, I'm not even talking about just the Tmnt fandom.

For the love of God, stop throwing that word around like you know what you're talking about.

It's been my experience, coming from an abusive childhood myself and having been the one to help my best friend escape from her abuser, people don't really know what it is unless you've experienced it. That's not to say that you have to be a victim to recognize it, but to truly understand what it is and how it makes a person feel, it's hard to imagine if its never happened to you. People love to fucking throw that word around and nothing makes me see red more than that.

First off, you sound ignorant as hell. Second of, by seeing interactions you don't like and calling them abusive, you are devaluing the seriousness of real abuse. And because that word gets thrown around so much, the line of what is considered abusive is so blurry now. Now you have people who think they're abused when they're not (kids who get spanked for example), and you have people are really are abused but they don't know it (partners who make excuses for each other).

You think April is emotionally abusive to Donnie? Honey, I will tell you what real abuse is like. Real abuse is being told that you aren't smart enough to come up with any good ideas on your own. Real abuse is being told that every good thing that has happened to you only happened because [your abuser] is in your life. Real emotional and verbal abuse is being humiliated and belittled and made to think you aren't good enough and nothing you do is good enough or ever will be. That your feeling are not valid and that you have no worth outside what this one person says you have.

It is not abuse to disagree or argue with someone, it is not abuse to speak your mind even if it hurts someone else’s feelings. Just because someone has a negative reaction to something you did or said, that doesn’t mean your actions were abusive. Their reaction does not define your behavior.

The literal definition of emotional abuse is the attempt to control someone else. Be that through manipulation or gaslighting or isolating. Like I said before, the abusers goal is for the victim to think they need them, they are worthless without them, they could never make it on their own without them.

And then of course, there’s physical abuse, where your head is slammed in a door and your nose is busted open.

Abuse isn’t this casual thing that happens sometimes, you don’t say “oh that person is kind of abusive” like it’s a character flaw. What you’re thinking of is just someone being mean. You can be mean without being abusive and you can be abusive without being “mean”, One of the steps in the cycle of abuse is literally love bombing. It’s a manipulation tactic to get you to think that the abuser is just doing this because they care about you, they want to protect you, they want what’s best for you.

And the affects of that can stay with you your entire life. To this day, I’m instantly distrustful anyone Who reaches out to me because I think they know my abuser. I suck at communicating because even the slightest hint that someone is mad or upset puts me in defense mode. If someone voice raises above a certain volume, even if it’s not at me, I shut down. I have to remove myself from the situation. I am literally in capable of communicating with someone who I perceive to be angry, even if they aren’t. Like my mouth will not form words, all I can think about is getting away from this person. I’ve been in situations where someone will move or approach me a certain way and I throw my arms up to cover my face. I’ve had relationships suffer because I would 100% rather be by myself then put myself in what I perceive to be danger, even though my logical brain knows that this person is not my abuser. My last boyfriend used to get mad at me because he felt like he was having to tiptoe around my trauma. To which my response was, “I literally just said I don’t like being yelled at, this shouldn’t be hard.”

This shit isn’t funny, it’s traumatizing.

(if you’re curious about this, I recommend looking up the cycle of abuse. A common thing is outsiders looking in and not understanding why someone can’t just leave an abusive situation, and then when the victim says it’s not that simple, they just don’t understand how that can be. Viewing abuse from an outside perspective makes it seem very black-and-white, but knowing the cycle of abuse can help to better understand what a victim is going through.)

(My abuser happened to be my stepmother, but it still affects me in both romantic and platonic relationships.)

(Also I’m not even going to touch on the thousands of people that are literally murdered every year for trying to get away from their abusers.)

Anyway….

I have yet to see anyone actually provide any kind of legitimate reasoning or example of April being abusive. Because she’s not, the examples aren’t there because they don’t exist. “Leading someone on” isn’t abusive. And I’ve talked before about how April doesn’t even do that.

Just because you don’t like some thing, doesn’t mean it’s abusive. And if half of these people actually knew what real abuse was, I guarantee they’d shut their mouth with a quickness.

It’s assholes that throw that word around that make is so victims of real abuse aren’t taken seriously.

If anyone has any instances where they think April was being abusive, let me know and I would love to debunk them for you. No, not discuss it, debunk it. This isn’t up for discussion.

#tmnt 2012 #april o'neil #donatello #apriltello #apritello #donnie #tmnt #abuse #abusestory #may be triggering #triggering content

38 notes · View notes

gretavanfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Submerged

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (F) Reader

Word Count: 2000ish

Warnings: None, pure fluff!

Summary: You overhear Josh talking to his mom about you.

Note: Based on this request I got from @noir-couture11: I was wondering if you could write a cute josh fic? Something along the lines of he thinks you’re asleep, but you over hear him on the phone talking to his mom about how he’s really falling in love with you.

Your relationship with Josh has been moving fast. Faster than any other relationship you’d had in the past. Usually, you exercise an extreme amount of caution when dating, never one to dive into something headfirst. You’re more of a dip your toe in the pool, then sit on the edge with your legs submerged, then slowly wade your way in up to your shoulders kind of girl. Never in the past had you even allowed your hair to get wet.

With Josh, everything is different. The day you met him, you dived right into the deep end and you still have yet to come up for air. You’ve been freely swimming in the pool of Josh for a little under three months now, and you’ve never been happier.

You know without question that you’re in love with him. Josh is undoubtedly the brightest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. He constantly radiates warmth and light, always bringing a smile to your face and making your belly swirl with emotions you’ve never felt before. You were smitten with him from day one, and your feelings have only grown every day since then.

Though you haven’t told Josh how strongly you feel about him yet, not wanting to move at a pace faster than he’s comfortable with, you can’t help but suspect that he feels just as strongly about you, if his actions are anything to go by.

For one, he spends every possible second he can with you. Being on a break from touring means that Josh has practically moved into your apartment over the past several weeks. Some of his clothes occupy a drawer in your dresser, he has a toothbrush in your bathroom, and he spends most nights sleeping next to you in your bed. He really only ever goes to his own place to check in and grab more stuff to bring to yours. And during the short periods of time that you’re apart, he’s texting you to tell you that he misses you, that he can’t wait until you’re back in each other’s presence.

Then there’s all the little things he does to show you how much you mean to him. Like when he has dinner on the table when you come home from work, and when he picks you up little gifts from the store that remind him of you, and the thoughtful dates that he plans that you always have a blast on. The way he cares for you is exactly the way you crave to be cared for, and you have no idea how you were lucky enough to find him.

Speaking of things Josh does for you to show you that he cares about you, one of your absolute favorites is when he plays with your hair when you’re laying together in your bed. You had briefly mentioned at one point that you find it soothing to have your hair played with, and so now he does it all the time. It feels so good that it usually lulls you to sleep, and on this Friday night after a long day of work, you’re unable to fight the slumber that threatens to overtake you as his fingers comb through your locks and gently scratch your scalp in the most comforting way. That in combination with the heat of his bare skin has you snoozing peacefully on his chest in no time.

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep for, but you’re awakened by Josh wiggling his way out from under you, doing his best to not jostle you too much and disturb you. Unfortunately for him, you’re a light sleeper and even the smallest noises and movements wake you up. In an effort to not make him feel bad for rousing you though, you keep your eyes closed and curl into your sheets, feigning sleep. You faintly hear his phone buzzing on your nightstand before he finally scoots off the mattress and grabs it.

As he exits your bedroom and enters the living room, leaving your door slightly ajar, you hear him mutter a quiet, “Hey, mom,” into the phone. He begins having a conversation with his mother and you try to tune out his talking, not wanting to eavesdrop. But despite the fact that he’s practically whispering and in the next room, you can still hear everything he’s saying clearly. Your ears especially perk up when you catch him saying your name.

“Yeah, sorry. Y/N’s asleep and I don’t want to wake her up,” he says, and you conclude that Karen must have questioned why he’s speaking in a hushed voice.

He further explains to her why you’re asleep at -you check the clock- 8:30 on a Friday night. “She worked all day, so we just grabbed some dinner and hung out at home.” There’s a pause and then he clarifies, “No, no we’re at her place. I’m just here so often that it feels more like home than my apartment.” He chuckles a bit, but quickly cuts himself off, still trying to be conscious of not making too much noise.

Your heart swells in your chest hearing Josh refer to your home as his home. You would let him move in with you in a heartbeat if he told you that he wanted to live with you. There have been countless times in the past that you’ve wanted to tell him to just pack up all of his stuff and bring it to your place, but you had bitten your tongue each time, afraid he would think you were crazy. You figured it would probably be best to tell him that you love him before inviting him to move in.

In the living room, Josh is silent for a few moments, presumably listening to Karen. When he speaks again, you feel like you could die of happiness at his words. Euphoria fills you, and you can’t stop a smile from making its way to your lips.

“She’s amazing, mom. I know its only been, like, three months, but- God, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. I can’t wait for you to meet her,” he confesses to Karen, sincerity evident in his tone.

Obviously you can’t hear Karen’s response, but you assume it’s good because Josh shyly thanks her and lets out a small giggle. They chat some more and you briefly hear them discussing plans for the two of you (!!!) to visit his parents in Frankenmuth, but you’re no longer paying attention.

All you can do is lay in bed and grin wildly at the ceiling, heart too full and brain too wired to even consider falling back asleep. Even though you really already knew that he loved you, words cannot describe how amazing it is to hear him say it out loud. The sense of validation you feel knowing for a fact that your complete and utter adoration of him is returned has you on cloud nine.

Josh and Karen converse for ten more minutes about his brothers, what’s going on in Frankenmuth, and various other topics, and by the time he’s telling her goodnight and that he loves her, he’s speaking at a normal volume. Bless his heart, the boy can’t help that he’s a naturally loud and animated talker. Some people may be annoyed by it, but you find it incredibly endearing.

When Josh finally ends the call and returns to your bedroom, you’ve given up your ruse of being asleep and are sitting up in bed, looking at your phone. Upon noticing that you’re awake, Josh swears, “Shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you up.”

You smile at him as he crawls back into bed and reply, “That’s okay, it’s a little early to go to bed anyway.” You reach over to set your phone back on the nightstand and flick on the lamp. A soft glow illuminates the room and you watch him settle back against your headboard and get comfortable, pulling up the sheets so they’re covering his legs.

Wanting to touch him, you cuddle up to his side and he instantly wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer. His hand finds its way back to your hair and you sigh contently before you comment, “You know, sometimes I hate being a light sleeper, but other times it’s not so bad…”

Josh looks down at you questioningly. “Oh yeah?” he implores. “Why is that?”

Debating how to word your response, you drag out, “Welllll…I guess it’s annoying because I can’t sleep anywhere even remotely noisy. Like forget me ever sleeping on a plane. But other times, I suppose it’s nice because I get to hear things that I would have missed if I was asleep.”

You realize your answer is cryptic, so you’re not surprised when Josh scrunches up his face, looking mildly suspicious. This only lasts for a few seconds, however, because his expression quickly changes to one of recognition. His eyes shut for a moment and he tilts his head back, taking in a breath before looking back to you and asking, “So how much of that did you hear?”

He doesn’t look angry that you were eavesdropping, quite the opposite of that actually. His eyes are alight and you can see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. His fingers are still mindlessly running through your tresses, but his other hand is nervously fiddling with the sheet on his lap.

You try to hide the giddiness in your voice, but your attempts are useless. “I may or may not have heard you tell your mom that you think you’re in love with me.” You smile at him bashfully, biting your lip to convey that you feel a little guilty for forcing the words out of him.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you strive to communicate with your eyes how happy the revelation makes you, and how much you love him too.

Catching you off guard, Josh leans down and captures your lips with his, the hand in his lap reaching up to tenderly touch the side of your neck while the one in your hair moves to the back of your head to keep you in place. Your hands both slide up to his cheeks, and you rub your thumbs lazily across the soft skin there as you kiss him with everything you have. He sucks on your bottom lip and then his tongue plays with yours, and it makes your skin tingle and your toes curl in delight.

When your lips eventually part ways, Josh keeps his forehead against yours and shoots you the dazzling smile that you adore so much. Your face is starting to hurt from grinning for so long, but that doesn’t stop you from beaming back at him.

In a low but confident voice he simply says, “Yeah, I do.” Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he jests, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

A loud giggle escapes your mouth, and, unable to resist the sight of his lips so close to yours, you give him another kiss, intending it to be brief. It lasts longer than you were expecting it to, however, neither of you wanting to put an end to the blatant display of the love you share for one another.

Finally pulling away, you decide to play along with his joke and retort, “Well Joshua, I think I may just have to love you back.”

To punctuate your point, you swing your leg over his so you’re straddling his lap and wind your arms around his neck. Your eyes lock with Josh’s, and in that moment, everything is perfect. There is nothing else that you could want for when you’re this close to the man that you love.

You hear him mumble a barely audible, “Good,” and then you’re kissing him for a third time and getting lost in his gentle touches and strokes. Diving into a relationship headfirst can be dangerous, you know, but with Josh, the risk was definitely more than worth it. You’re submerged, and the feeling is better than any other you’ve experienced.

294 notes · View notes

harley-sunday · 4 years ago

Text

The Draw [15]

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end...

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (f)

Warnings: Language. Smut. NSFW.

Word count: 4174

AN: This took me a little (lot) longer than expected, but it’s finally here. And boy, is it fluffy. So I hope you’ll enjoy :) I’m not sure if I can manage to get everything I still want to write in one chapter or if there’ll be more, so something to look forward to, I suppose... Either way, please let me know what you think. Validation and all that. ♥

Masterlist

“Not a good time,” you echo, taking a step back as a physical reaction to his rejection, “got it.”

Pursing your lips to keep from crying you offer him a curt nod before you turn around and walk back through the corridor towards the elevator. It takes every bit of restraint not to start running and so you think you actually hear a woman’s voice coming from inside his room when you’re about halfway, which would explain why he wouldn’t let you in. The elevator’s quick to arrive once you’ve pushed the call button rather frantically, and when you step inside you keep your eyes trained on the floor, not particularly wanting to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrors lining the walls.

The two girls at the front desk eye you suspiciously when you pass them, no doubt wondering if something’s wrong, but you ignore them. At least they’ll have something to gossip about, you think wryly.

Are you surprised to find the taxi stand empty once you get outside? No, not really anyway, because that’s just the day it’s turning out to be. Not looking forward to hanging around until a car magically appears you try to remember where you came from and start heading in that direction. The drive over here was short so it can’t be that far, you reason. The sun’s hanging low in the sky and there’s a gentle breeze that makes it rather nice outside, but you’re too busy trying not to break down and cry to notice.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t notice there’s someone coming after you until you hear your name being called and realize it’s not the first time you’ve heard it in the past minute or so. You recognise the voice, of course you do, and for a moment you contemplate to just keep walking, but you know he’ll catch up with you anyway and so you turn around, a rather defeated, “What?” escaping you.

He stops a few feet away from you, holding up his hands to let you know he’s not here to harm you in any way even though the thought never even crossed your mind. He’s not like Mark. Thank God. He runs a hand through his hair before he looks up at you, “I’m sorry.”

It sounds so sincere that you wonder what it is he’s apologizing for, because it must be something big and so immediately you expect the worst - he’s with someone else and sorry you had to find out this way. The tears that you have been trying to hold back finally spill over and roll down your cheeks. You lower your head, feeling such an immense sense of loss of what could have been that it physically hurts.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and much closer, his hand under your chin then to make you look up at him.

You want to tell him to make it quick, because there’s no need to drag this out any longer, but you’re sobbing uncontrollably and couldn’t get a word out if you tried.

“Will you please come with me?”

The question surprises you and he must realize it too, because he quickly adds, “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Then, when he sees the confusion on your face, “I need you to trust me on this, ok?”

Trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, you nod, but then you point to your face, which is no doubt blotchy with streaks of mascara and eyeliner running from your eyes, and let out a humorless laugh. You must be quite the sight.

He smiles and uses his thumbs to wipe away whatever’s on your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead, “All done.” He takes your hand then and leads you back to the hotel, the two girls at the front desk trying their hardest not to stare when you pass them for the third time in not even twenty minutes.

The elevator ride is silent, but he doesn’t let go of your hand and it feels good to be this close to him again even though you’re still not sure what exactly is going on. It isn’t until he opens the door of his room and you see who’s sitting on a chair in the little lounge area to your right, recognizing her from pictures in his apartment, that you let out a sigh of relief.

“Dragă,” the woman says as she gets up, holding out her arms for a hug as she walks towards you.

You can feel yourself starting to cry again when she holds you, quietly berating yourself for assuming the worst, yet at the same time very relieved that it’s his mother who’s in his room. Like Sebastian did earlier she runs her thumbs over your cheeks to dry your eyes once she’s pulled back, her kind eyes letting you know it’s ok. She winks at you and then gently pushes you to face Sebastian.

You shake your head at him, “I’m so sorry.”

“You kids have a lot to talk about,” his mother says then, before she steps around you and kisses his cheek, “I’ll get out of your way, but promise me you two will have dinner with me tomorrow?”

Sebastian nods, “I’ll call you.”

“You do that,” his mother says with a grin as she closes the door behind her.

“She always spends her summer holidays in Romania,” he offers once he’s turned back to you, “so she’s spending a couple of days with me before she flies to Constanta next week.”

You nod, still a little lost for words.

He grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses from somewhere and tells you to follow him outside. The balcony he leads you onto basks in the last of the evening sun, with a comfortable lounge set on your left and it’s there you sit down. He has the corner room and so there’s only one neighboring balcony, but it’s separated from his with a high stone wall and so it doesn’t really feel like you’re in a hotel, what with all the privacy it offers.

Taking the now full glass of wine from him with a quiet, “Thank you,” you watch him as he sits down, keeping a little bit of distance between the two of you. You decide it’s best to just bite the bullet and so you shift in your seat, folding your leg under you so you can face him before you admit, “Listen, I fucked up and I’m really sorry.” Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment before you continue, “I should have told my parents about you sooner and I get why it made you upset. I just- I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he replies, the hint of a comforting smile playing on his lips. He clears his throat then, “But I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It’s uh- It’s not a very mature thing to do.”

“Oh please,” you say, shaking your head, “I would have done the same.”

He smiles, for real then, “You would have.”

“I really don’t want to make any excuses-”

“Then don’t,” he says, his voice soft and kind. “We’re not teenagers anymore, you know, there’s no clean slate. There are things from our past that have made us the way we are and I think the challenge for us, maybe, is to try and not compare this to anything else. Accept that this is something completely new that we have a chance to shape into whatever we want it to be.”

“Hmm,” you agree, because it makes sense. Smiling you let your eyes fall to your lap, “It’s a learning curve for sure. I never- What you just said about us having a chance to shape this, I don’t know, I really like that idea because-” you look up, your eyes finding his, “-this feels different somehow. There’s something between us that I haven’t experienced before, like a push and pull that makes us work.”

“There’s a draw between us, for sure,” he agrees. “And I know we have some odds stacked against us with the career I have, but I really think we can make this work.” He motions for you to come closer then, “I want us to make this work.” You sit down next to him, your back resting against his chest as he drapes his arm across your shoulder and presses a kiss to your temple, “We good?”

“More than,” you say as you lace your fingers through his, softly kissing the back of his hand. God, it feels good to be this close to him again and so there’s a sly smile on your lips when you say, “You know what would make this even better?”

“Oh, fuck,” you curse quietly, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, your hands bunching up the fabric of your dress that he’s pushed up over your hips not long ago. One of your hands lets go then, making its way in between your legs and into his hair, holding him into place, chasing a high that undoubtedly will follow soon. You throw your head back and realize it’s dark outside, a new moon high in the sky above you.

His tongue is attacking your clit with vigor, sometimes joined by his teeth gently scraping over the tiny bud in a way that makes you want to scream out even though you know you can’t. He has one finger inside of you already and there's promise of a second, which you hope will join soon because you are right on the edge.

Your legs have been resting on his shoulders all this time, but you push them further apart, digging your heels into the edge of the seat you’re sitting on, granting him more access. His second finger slides in then and you feel your eyes roll back in pure bliss, rocking your hips to make him go in even deeper. “I’m about to-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence, because it’s at that moment he curls his fingers just right while sucking on your clit with a determination that has you come so hard you forget how to breathe for a moment. Which at least helps you keep quiet. He pulls his fingers back and grabs onto your thighs, holding you in place as he laps at your juices, helping you get down from your high in a way only he can. You’re actually whimpering then, because fuck, it feels so good.

Once your breathing is back to normal he lets go and pulls back, the lust still darkening his eyes. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a kiss, licking his lips to taste the sweet mix of you and him before your tongue finds his. You moan when he ends the kiss to take a hold of your hands, gently pulling you to your feet, and so you’re pouting a little at the loss of contact.

He looks at you, eyes even more dark and his voice low and hoarse when he says, “You’re way too loud for me to fuck you outside.”

Fuck. You might have just come again just now, and so you press your legs together to try and relieve some of the tension but fail miserably.

He leads you inside and has you stand in front of the bed, where he makes you turn around so he can unzip your dress, his mouth trailing kisses down your back the further down the zipper goes. Once he pushes it off your shoulders the fabric pools at your feet with ease and you step out of it, your hands reaching for his jeans. He gently swats them away and mutters something that sounds like, “Bed. Now.”

You sit down, back resting against the headboard as you watch him take off his clothes, licking your lips absentmindedly when he pulls down his boxers and his cock springs free. What you wouldn’t give to taste him right now, you muse, but you know from the way he pushed your hands away you know you will have to wait.

He pumps himself a few times, until he’s completely hard, and then kneels onto the bed, leaning down so he can kiss you. Hard. His mouth travels from your jaw to just below your ear then, where he finds your pulse point. He nips at it, teeth scraping your skin before he puts his mouth to your ear and whispers, “On your knees, sweetheart. Ass up.”

He’s never been like this, never told you what to do, and so you’re a little surprised and a lot turned on and you do exactly like he’s asked. When you look at him from over your shoulder once you’re where he wants you, he throws you a wink and grabs your hips, pulling you a little closer. One hand lets go then, grabbing his cock and guiding it towards you, the tip of it sliding through your folds in a way that is both a turn-on and a tease. When he’s sufficiently lubed up he lines himself up and then, without warning, thrusts forward, filling you completely. He holds still for a moment and just as you marvel at how big he is, he pulls all the way back before he fills you up once more. Both his hands are on your hips again, holding you in place as he finds his rhythm, no longer pulling all the way out, and you can’t help but moan because of how good it feels.

One of his hands slides down your stomach to your clit then, his fingers expertly finding the bud and giving it some much needed attention. You can tell he’s close from the way his breathing picks up and so you start rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, wanting him to know you’re right there with him. He curses quietly and pinches your clit between two of his fingers just as he slams into you and then both of you come at the same time, you with a loud, “Fuck,” and him leaning down and softly biting down on your shoulder while he fills you.

The sun is high in the sky by the time you finally make your way out of his bed, even though he’s been up for a while already. You vaguely recall Room Service being delivered at some point and as a result there’s a fruit salad waiting for you on the counter top of the kitchenette. Grabbing a fork from the drawer before you pick up the bowl you make your way outside and join him on the balcony. The shirt you’re wearing is his and barely covers your ass and so you made sure to put your panties on even though he mutters something about you looking even better naked, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your thighs as you pass him. You throw him a wink before you sit down next to him and turn towards him, letting your feet rest in his lap while you get some much needed vitamins.

His hand strokes your bare legs absentmindedly, “They’re gonna need me on set this afternoon and tonight.”

“Oh,” you nod, “ok.”

“I called my mom already,” he smiles, “and she wants to know if maybe you’d like to have dinner with her instead? Just the two of you.”

You try to gauge his reaction, wondering how he feels about this, but he keeps his expression neutral and so you reply, “Yeah, I’d like that,” because you really do.

“Yeah?” His smile grows wider, “Good. If you give me the address of your hotel I’ll ask if she can meet you there at seven.”

“What time do you have to leave?”

He checks his phone and sighs, before he looks back at you, “They’re picking me up in an hour.”

“An hour, huh?” You raise an eyebrow as you put the now empty bowl down on the table, gently nudging his leg with your foot, “There’s a lot we can still do in an hour.”

He grins, “I guess there is.”

You’re at the small desk in your hotel room, checking up on your email and answering what you can from here when your phone lights up, ‘Mr Smooth’ flashing across the screen as it rings. Sliding your finger across the screen you accept the call, smiling when you put the phone to your ear, “Hi.”

“Hey,”

There’s a lot of background noise on his end and so you pause the music you were playing and up the volume on your phone, “You ok?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” you hear him chuckle. “How was dinner with my mom?”

“Really nice,” you admit easily. “I had a great time.” It’s true. You were nervous at first but already after a few minutes you felt completely at ease with Georgeta and loved hearing her stories of Sebastian growing up.

“So did she,” he says, sounding sort of proud. “She really likes you.” Before you have a chance to reply he continues, “I’m going to have to keep this short, I’m sorry. I’m on set and they’ve changed some of the schedule around so I’m on location for the next four days-”

“Oh,” you pout, even though he can’t see you, but then you realize you showed up here as unannounced as it gets and so it shouldn’t be a surprise he has prior commitments and so you quickly add, “that’s ok.”

“They gave me Friday off, though, so cancel whatever plans you had, ok?” He says something to someone then before he comes back on the line, “I’m really sorry, babe, they need me on set, but I’ll pick you up at ten Friday, ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “you do that.”

The sun’s out in full force on Friday and you hope that whatever he has planned for today will be an outdoor activity because at least there’s a slight breeze to offer some relief every now and then. You grab your sunglasses and purse, before you take your keycard out of the lightswitch and head out, excited to see him again.

The girl at the front desk flags you over once you get to the lobby and tells you there’s a message for you, handing you an envelope with what you now know is Sebastian’s handwriting. You smile when you read the note inside

There’s a car waiting for you outside. See you soon.

When the driver sees you coming down the front steps he opens the back door and greets you with a curt nod as you get in. It’s nice and cool inside the car and you are curious to see where you’re off to, but this is Greece and so everything is new to you. You admire the olive trees lining the streets as the driver weaves in and out of traffic effortlessly even though the streets are narrow and it’s still quite busy. You’ve been driving for about ten minutes when suddenly you see the sea in front of you and it’s then the driver turns left before driving onto the parking lot of what you assume is a marina. He hands you another envelope before he gets out and opens your door.

“Thank you,” you say as you get out, smiling at him.

“Enjoy your day,” he says, nodding towards the docks, his English laced with the most wonderful Greek accent.

You thank him once again and watch as he drives off, waving when he turns onto the main road before you open the envelope he gave you. Inside is a folded up plan of the marina, dock A-12 circled in red ink, and you’re quick to find out it’s somewhere on your left.

Of course Sebastian’s already waiting for you on the dock once you get there and you can’t help but smile as you walk towards him. He looks as handsome as ever, the moss green shirt he’s wearing, paired with jean shorts and white sneakers, looking very familiar. It isn’t until you remember you’re wearing a blue and white striped top and navy wide legged linen pants that you realize you both are wearing a summer version of what you had on during your first date. Which seems very fitting in this setting.

He holds his hand out to help you down from the dock onto the platform, pulling you close so he can kiss you once you’re next to him, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you reply before giving him another kiss. You pull back then and can’t help but laugh, “This all looks very familiar.”

“It does,” he agrees with a wicked smile, leading you towards the thirty foot yacht that’s docked on his right. He steps on board, never letting go of your hand, helping you down the steps with ease.

Like Los Angeles, the yacht comes with a captain and a deckhand and so once again you find yourself on the upper deck, albeit much closer to Sebastian this time, your back leaning against his chest while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

It’s perfect and you wish you could stop this moment in time, enjoy it a little longer before you have to fly back tomorrow and start work again on Monday and even more so because you know you won’t get to see him for a long time.

“Where’s your head at?”

His voice interrupts your thoughts and even though you don’t want to dampen the mood, you know it’s best to be honest, “Not seeing you for five weeks once I leave tomorrow.”

He kisses your temple, “it’ll be over before you know it.” You start to protest but he’s quick to continue, “l don’t have anything else lined up until early September, and I promise you to spend as much time as I can with you.” He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, mouth next to your ear again as he chuckles, “Right until you get sick of me.”

“Never,” you reply, shaking your head. You tilt your head back and kiss his cheek to make your point.

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Good,” he loosens his grip and puts his hands so he can maneuver you onto his lap, letting them rest on your hips once you’re facing him. He smiles at you, “We should spend some time together in Charlotte.”

“Hmm,” you agree, your hands resting on his shoulders before you lean in and kiss him, “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”you give him another kiss, “you still have to meet my parents after all.”

He chuckles, hands now roaming under your top, “That I do.”

A shiver then, when his fingers trace your spine with a featherlight touch. “Seb,” you hiss, leaning your forehead against his, grinding your hips to relieve some of the tension that has started to build up.

He just grins, a mischievous look in his eyes, continuing on like nothing happened, “After that some time in New York? Maybe book a trip out of the country the week before I have to leave?”

“Deb’s gonna kill me,” you mutter quitely.

“Oh, come on,” he counters, “Deb loves you.”

“Not enough to give me four weeks off,” you reply with a sigh, although you’re already starting to toy with the idea of taking a few weeks of unpaid leave, “but maybe I can work something out.”

“I’d like that,” he says, leaning closer so his lips find yours again.

The kiss is slow and comfortable and his hands are back on your hips then and for a moment, just a moment, time does seem to slow down and it feels like you got your wish.

Your goodbye on Saturday morning is cut short when he gets a call that lets him know he’s needed on set in an hour and so all of a sudden you have to rush and it makes you a little sad because you were supposed to have at least a few more hours together.

He seems to understand your change of mood and holds out his hand once he’s finished the call, pulling you to your feet from where you were sitting on the bed and into him, his arms wrapping around you as he kisses your forehead but doesn’t say anything.

A ragged breath escapes you and it makes him pull you even closer and then you just stand there, holding each other, but for some reason it feels like the most intimate thing you’ve ever done. After a while you pull back a little and look up at him with what you hope is a brave smile, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies before he leans down and kisses you, “and I’ll be seeing you.”

#The Draw #Sebastian Stan x reader #Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan Imagine #Sebastian Stan

60 notes · View notes

gothiccwhore · 4 years ago

Text

13 reasons why season 4 review

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN THIS!! if you haven’t finished the season yet i suggest you skip this!! :)

also this will be super long because i tend to ramble and i’ll give reviews for each character/most of the storylines! ((half way through reading this i read @jessica-acholas and @analuciacortez reviews and i agreed with a lot of it so you guys should all read their reviews as well!!))

over all ranking:

as a whole, i would give this season a 7/10. i originally was gonna give it a 6 but they get an extra point for all the zalex scenes we got, and i also was thinking of the mess that was s3 so i had to give them that extra point too

storylines/the season as a whole:

my biggest concern/annoyance with this season was how rushed or repetitive it was

every storyline this season was either super rushed or super dragged out- no in between. the fact that we only had 10 episodes as opposed to the normal 13 probably had a part in this, which idk why they cut the episodes short. let’s start off with the dragged out storylines, one of them being clay’s nightmare sequences. i honestly did like his therapy scenes because it was good to see him get help and he was a much better narrator than ani, but his nightmare scenes were so long i literally had to skip all of them i got so bored. another dragged out storyline was jesstin, which i probably will get complains about. i think they have their cute scenes and i do love both characters, especially jess being tied with alex for #1 and justin being in my top 5. but my god their storyline/relationship is beyond repetitive, its been the exact same thing for 4 whole seasons. they break up, have a long speech about how they’re not right for each other, spend the whole season pining after each other, make up in the end and then have another speech about how in love they are. like writers please make up your mind- do you want them together or not?? we also had another repetitive love triangle this season just like every other with justin jess and diego as opposed to the justin jess and alex one for like 2 seasons.

now for the rushed storylines, one of them being alex’s relationship with charlie. i love charlie ever since we saw him in s3, he’s so pure and a lovable guy and i love how he loves alex. however they happened like out of nowhere?? alex went from being in love with jess for 3 seasons to being in love with 2 people in 4 episodes. if you blinked you would’ve missed the “build up” to their relationship, and honestly it felt like they just randomly threw in some relationship for alex because they didn’t wanna have zalex happen. i’m not saying this to be bitter (maybe i am lol) but zalex had 3 seasons worth of build up and could’ve been an amazing slow burn relationship for the whole season, instead they rushed another relationship. zach is also another character who had a rushed storyline with his drinking problem, which literally happened out of nowhere too?? he just showed up this season drunk in the first scene and drunk in literally every single scene we saw him in. this storyline also never got resolved, it just stuck there like the writers didn’t even care to end or resolve it. just like how zalex could’ve worked better for alex, it could’ve worked better for zach too since his drinking problem could’ve been helped by alex. i swear the writers just hate us at this point

characters review:

clay: one of my favorites honestly, he’s in my top 5. sure clay has had his moments where he’s been annoying and extra but so has literally every single character in this show- besides tony lol. like i stated above my main concern was how dragged out his sequences were this season, like i couldn’t watch all of them. also another huge problem i had with him this season was how big of a jerk he was to justin??? for like half of the season he was rude to him and would give snarky remarks/hints like when he was surprised colleges would even want justin, which i don’t blame justin for thinking that clay expected him to just relapse again and throw his life away. the same can be said for when clay said all those awful things to him at the party- his parents not being his and not trusting him like wtf? i felt SO BAD for justin there i was expecting clay to apologize to him. on the topic of the party episode, he literally crashed zach’s car and sent them flying 30 ft in the air just to leave zach all alone to literally die?? then there’s also the part where he and ani outed alex before he was ready to fully come out which sucks, that’s something you should never do but i know he was just worried about alex and didn’t want him to get heartbroken over winston - but why didn’t you tell him sooner??

ani: like i said with clay, i hated how she outed alex before he was ready to come out. i don’t understand how her and clay both didn’t think to tell everyone - especially ALEX who literally killed bryce and would’ve gotten hurt the most about winston?? they both knew that winston and alex both knew each other and met at the hillcrest party, so why not tell him winston is gonna be looking for information to clear monty’s name?? alex is literally the only person you guys SHOULDVE told first?? however i did enjoy her this season as opposed to s3, she had a great redemption and i liked that she finally apologized to jess for sleeping with bryce. she also wasn’t up everyone’s business this season and i loved all her scenes with jess, especially the prom ones

alex: HAAAAAA BI KING WHO GOT HIS HAPPY ENDING AND DIDNT GO TO JAIL FOR FLOORING THAT RAPIST!!! HOW DO YOU BRYCE AND MONTY STANS FEEL THAT BOTH OF THEM ARE 6FT UNDER WHILE ALEX IS FREE 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳 i’m so happy he got his happy ending and became secure in his sexuality, that’s all i ever wanted for him since s1. i’m not saying this because i’m biased and he’s my favorite character, but he truly was one of the only characters who didn’t annoy me this season. he had a great arc even if it was super rushed, we finally got a zalex mutual love confession (i’m still bitter that we didn’t get our endgame but in my head we did), and i love how even if he and justin had their differences in the past seasons he was there for him in the end. i don’t really have any complaints about him besides the whole charlie thing being super rushed and so random?? why did the show put 2 bottoms together like we wouldn’t notice 🤨🤨

jessica: jess is my favorite character tied with alex, both of them have been since s1. i loved how she continued to be her badass self this season but a lot of the things she did/said kinda rubbed me the wrong way?? like i applauded her for calling out ani for judging who she was sleeping with after ani slept with bryce, but when you think about it diego literally is a rape apologist too?? jess tyler is literally your friend why would you date the guy who’s defending his rapist?? also don’t get me started how diego treated clay horribly this season, he was suffering with his mental illness and he played pranks on him and called him a psycho??? clay has always been there for you jess and he’s also one of your friends why would you still hang out with diego?? also in the first episode where justin breaks up with her and she got mad at him i got upset with her, justin made valid points he’s a recovering drug addict who needs to focus on himself not a relationship. i don’t understand why she got so mad at that, it was lowkey ooc for her? overall i still loved her i just hate how the writers reduce her to only a guy each season, but she still was amazing over all and looked beautiful!! her scenes with ani were great and i cried so much at her scenes with justin at the end.

zach: another one of my favorite characters who the writers did so dirty this season. i’ve loved zach since s1 as well, he’s in my top 5 and i’ve always loved how even if he was a jock he was still good hearted and there for everyone. i hated how in this season the writers forgot all of his traits and basically wrote him as a new person?? his drinking storyline was beyond random and had no build up/not even a resolution in the end. where even was his mother or sister this entire season. the show always paid him dirt and never focused on his home life when it was clear he didn’t have the best relationship with his mom. i’m so annoyed at how they wrote him as a “drunk” all season and didn’t even acknowledge his struggles. his scenes with alex were great, and i loved every single one of them. i’m still dying on the zalex hill and saying that they missed the perfect opportunity to make them a couple, it would’ve helped his storyline just like alex’s.

justin: oh my god, when i say my heart broke in the last episode it really did. i remember hating justin in s1, and then loving him in s2 with him being in my top 5 favorite characters. he had the best redemption arc, and i loved his portrayal of a recovering drug addict. i’m thinking now and he also didn’t annoy me this season just like alex, he was great and i’m so sad how they basically stomped all over his arc by killing him. it’s clear the show only killed him off because clay started the show by losing someone he loved, and ended it the same way. him dying by aids was so random and made 0 sense, i honestly thought he was gonna die from an overdose when discussing theories because i had a feeling it was either him or alex who were gonna die. they didn’t have a buildup for his hiv/aids- only added scars/bruises throughout the season which no one noticed if they weren’t closely examining him. i’m so saddened by his death and i will be planning a funeral for him along with zalex’s 💔.

tony: honestly a great character throughout the whole show, never was annoying and always was there for literally everyone. tony has always been a fighter and has been through so much without showing it, and i’m glad he got to go to college at the end and see his sister. i’m also so happy we got more scenes between tony and caleb this season because they are one of my favorite couples and are so underrated in the show and with fans ❤️ i was upset when he didn’t believe tyler, but i understood where he was coming from because he just wanted to be safe.

tyler: he’s so pure and i also loved his arc throughout the show, i’m so happy he has friends who love him and him and estela were so cute! i wish they explored more about him and the sheriffs working together because i honestly was confused about that before rewatching scenes. i also hate how they made him feel bad about monty dying when it literally was not his fault a rapist got killed in prison- monty’s rotting 6 ft under hello let’s celebrate to that!! i also loved how he was so supportive when he found out about winston and alex on the camping trip, he seemed worried about alex when winston said they broke up. i also love how alex was the only one who truly believed in him the entire show.

bryce: good riddance!! when i say i yelled when jess saw him when she was burning the tape why did he smile like pennywise?2@/@20so glad we saw no flashbacks of him this season and that he was just an annoying ghost, but even that annoyed me

monty: just like bryce good riddance!!! thank god we didn’t get that much of a redemption arc because i would’ve lost it- even though i literally rolled my eyes every time his ghost tried to say something that was supposed to make us feel bad for him. he’s rotting with bryce 🧚🏻‍♀️🤩

charlie: i loved him, he was so nice to everyone and so pure. i just wish they let him and alex be just friends because that came out of nowhere. i hope he’s baking more cookies and being happy

caleb: such a supportive bf i love him and tony, wish we saw more of him but i hope he’s living his best life <3

winston: he gave me joe from you vibes the entire season why was he creepy lowkey s:@:&;&!392&-03@3&4 nobody @ me but for a second i thought him and alex were cute during the bowling scene then i remembered who he was. he was a rape apologist which i hated, like dude he’s dead get over it i promise that dick probably wasn’t that good that you have to do a whole fbi investigation for him. the fact that he fell in love with monty and alex after like a week is sending me oddjdkckdkdj but i too am in love with alex standall so i see where he’s coming from, he gets points for not turning alex in at the end but i expected him to be a bigger villain this season but thank god he wasn’t because i would’ve floored him

chloe: my best girl who i wish we saw more of we only saw her for like 3 scenes?? the show did her dirty even in s3 she should’ve had more scenes her storyline was amazing :/ i did enjoy her and zach’s friendship it was so refreshing to see a m/f friendship and i’m glad they didn’t make them romantic. i didn’t expect her and scott to date but go girl!!

diego: literally came out of nowhere where were you for the other 3 seasons? i literally laughed every time he would talk about missing monty like who cares if he got you into football he was a rapist no one cares. i hated how he made clay go literally insane by pulling those pranks on him and calling him psycho?? “why’d you bring a knife” MF YOU GAVE IT TO HIM???? he was nice at the end so i guess i’ll give him some points and he also wasn’t a HUGE jerk i liked how him and justin helped each other when the cop was being racist/a dick and that he seemed upset at justin’s funeral

estela: her and tyler were super cute together and i loved how she acknowledged what monty did and didn’t try to make excuses to defend him. also loved how she wanted to join HO and was completely different from monty

so overall that was my review of the season, i will miss the characters so much and zalex will continue to haunt me every night i cannot escape 💔 jess and alex are my emotional support characters who would’ve thought. selena gomez and the 13rw writers you will pay for your crimes this season!

99 notes · View notes

paintedpoems · 4 years ago

Text

Black Water Arc: War of The Water Tyrants.

“Wind’s ontology refuses to take separateness as an inherent feature of the world. […] And this is, in part, wind’s value—it has an existential precondition that appears only in the context of contact. Wind is touching, mutual, moving.”

— Cymene Howe, Ecologics

It seems overly contradictory to start a piece about water tyrants with a quote about the wind, doesn’t it? In actuality, readers of the novel would find this comparison immensely appropriate. This is because although black water arc is about the head-to-head battle between Shi Wudu and Hexuan; the center point, the cause and the final effect of this whole arc is Shi Qingxuan.

“Existential Precondition” or fate. It is ironic that wind is described as such because that is essentially Shi Qingxuan’s inherent problem and “Refuses to take separateness” was Shi Qingxuan’s ultimate solution.

Short Summary:

The infant Shi Qingxuan has a curse placed upon them. The curse prophesied a life full of unfathomable hardships for Shi Qingxuan and that is now their fate. Their brother, Shi Wudu, who is extremely protective of his sibling, is bent on saving Shi Qingxuan from this curse. Shi Wudu being naturally gifted eventually ascends as a god, he uses his position in the heavenly realm to then help his younger brother ascend to godhood as well. It is eventually revealed that Shi Wudu secretly changed his sibling’s cursed fate with another person of similar name and better fortune.

The person in question is Hexuan. Hexuan was fated to live a prosperous life and ascend as a god but instead lives with tragedy latched onto him. He goes through poverty, false accusations, abuse and all of his loved ones die under heartbreaking circumstances. Hexuan eventually dies and returns as a vengeful ghost bent on punishing the one that had wronged him. Hexuan wants justice and since the gods refuse to pass judgement, he decides to come to a verdict on his own. In short, that is what black water arc is about: Judgement. In a grey situation, where exactly do we place the blame?

On Morality:

Shi wudu verses Hexuan, ‘The war of the water tyrants’ dilemma, is one of the most mind-blowingly well thought out cases of grey morality in literature. It is no secret that the reductiveness of morals into “good” and “evil” categories is one of mxtx's main themes often explored heavily in her previous works. The author rejects the absolute extremes in character viewpoints, both in her protagonists and antagonists and applies the concept in varying thoughts including race and politics.

The difference in this arc however, is the projection of the audience’s principles into each character. That is, between Hexuan and Shi wudu, she never specifies who the antagonist is. It is left to the readers to explore, reflect and come to an understanding on what exactly it is like to venture into the grey zone. Neither of the two were selfishly driven, none of their initial intentions stemmed from hatred. It was familial love that drove them to hurt one another, familial love that blindsided them. In their quest to protect and to avenge their family, innocent family members lost their lives or were hurt; on both their parts. This is where the definitions of victims and perpetrators get skewed. It is so skewed in fact, that the only valid testimony left is the reader's sentiments for the characters and their own self-principles.

From Shi wudu’s “Everything I have today, I fought for myself... I will change fate that I do not possess. My fate is up to me and not the heavens” is the will to fight predestination. Verses, Hexuan’s “What right did he have to suck another’s blood, trample another’s bones to reach the skies, and still maintain a peace of mind. Enjoying all such luxuries without any sense of burden?” the victim of the change in predestination. Two strong, commendable principles, founded by righteousness but blinded by arrogance and hatred. Later, to maintain a peace of mind, Hexuan tramples on Shi Qingxuan and in the process of fighting for oneself, Shi Wudu ultimately changes Shi Qingxuan’s fate for the worse.

We even witness the Shi Wudu’s blindness take a terrible turn at the very end when he attempts to strangle his own sibling that he fought to protect all this time. His belief that Shi Qingxuan will not be safe without him, his lack of trust in his own brother, is part of his arrogance.

In return, we see Hexuan’s blind hatred falter for a moment when he keeps giving Shi Qingxuan chances for safety. At the finish line, we see both the water tyrant’s own morals and goals swap. This change in attitude towards Shi Qingxuan’s future is another outstanding ploy by mxtx because expectation of a good outcome is the core of morality. In the end, the readers simply wish for a good ending for Shi Qingxuan and when Shi Wudu decides he is going to die together with his sibling, it confuses the audience. There is a shock factor added, you perceive Shi Wudu as the protector and he pulls the safety rug from under your feet. Instant shock and confusion violating the purity of the absolute good, so the reader’s immediate reaction is to look for safety in the not-absolute evil i.e. Hexuan. However, when Hexuan does not provide that complete comfort at the end, only slightly appeasing everyone, it stings. Reinforcing that cognitive blend of mixed morality into reader’s beliefs, further skewing the curve.

It is this kind of writing that creates a split in the fandom, not in a bad way, but more in terms of sparking a conversation about where people’s individual morality lies. Each character has their past, their reasons, their flaws and goodness and it gives the audience something to root for. In addition, the rooting is not a hundred percent good versus bad, because each character’s choices are equally flawed. The fandom selects a side but with one foot still lingering on the other territory. Siding with Hexuan but understanding the reasoning behind Shi Wudu’s actions or siding with Shi Wudu but sympathizing with Hexuan’s pain and loss. The uneven split is how you know the characterization was not mediocre.

In regards to characterizations, Shi wudu and Hexuan are too similar. Their personalities, personas, auras; the proud, stubborn, intelligent water tyrants. We speak of these likenesses because Shi Qingxuan lives through this battle and will never be able to unsee the similarities. Hexuan remains, a walking reminder of Shi Wudu. This feels deliberately done as the final stab to the readers, so that Shi Qingxuan and Hexuan’s relationship remains unmendable.

Pure Point of Views, Shi Qingxuan and Xielian:

Wind is invisible, its apprehension comes from its exposure to objects or in this case other people. Shi Qingxuan is air, pure, lively and touching, forming a comforting contact with everyone they meet. The kind of character that brings about a reader’s protective instinct, in a sense, if anything were to happen to them it will infuriate and break the audience. A classic plot device to draw emotions from the readers. Why must this innocent child suffer for the sins of their brother? But, mxtx urges us to rethink this by wondering the same for Hexuan’s family. They were innocent too, why did they have to die on this path? Why is Shi Qingxuan’s innocence valid and not theirs? The audience feels for Shi Qingxuan because we have become familiarised with them. Shi Qingxuan has now made that connection with the readers, the wind has touched their hearts versus only receiving glimpses of what was Hexuan’s previous family. The effect is lacking that familial impact, that bond. Classic writing schemes, beautiful.

At the end of the clashing of the waves, the person left with the permanent scars was the blameless Shi Qingxuan. Their life was molded and directed into this final point without their control, as if caught in a sea storm. The one that paid for this feud was ultimately Shi Qingxuan, the person neither of the other two wanted to hurt.

Another classic writing device I want to finally explore and praise is the use of the narrator to throw the audience off the culprit’s scent. The mystery of Black Water Arc was quite simple actually, mxtx layed out all the clues and hints for the audience out in the open. Like Xielian himself states later, the simplest answer was always visible, he was just overthinking things. And if Xielian, the semi-narrator, overthinks then the audience will overthink. Xielian, an intelligent and the fundamentally good person, exudes a trusting aura. The audience cannot help but trust his judgement and perception of things, it is a credibility built from our experience with his mystery solving abilities in the previous arcs.

The reason why the black water reveal was so impactful and shocking was because of Xielian. The semi narrator continuously made excuses for MingYi, his subconscious trusted him, even if he had his suspicions. He didn’t enforce them strongly enough, leaving the audience to believe Xielian was merely exploring a wrong option for the sake of eliminating possible culprits. The audience was not viewing MingYi as a culprit, rather they were waiting for Xielian to come to the inevitable conclusion of his innocence. An item to quickly cross off the checklist so that they could finally pursue the “real” culprit.

MingYi couldn’t use the Earth Master Shovel? Xielian makes the excuse for him before the audience can even dive deeper on that thought. HuaCheng draws suspicion back to MingYi and Xielian immediately doubts his most trusted confidant’s assumptions. Xielian trusts MingYi, so we trust MingYi against our better judgement. When the narrator has left no room for mistrust, how can the audience hold their stance?

The proficient push and pull charade played out by Hexuan and Huacheng is another impactful factor that took part in diverting Xielian’s mistrust. The nefarious roles they played policing and suspecting each other, from Hexuan’s “don’t you have spies in the heavens?” to Huacheng’s lie detecting dice game. The solid plan of the two suspicious individuals doing the dirty work for Xielian, did not allow Xielian to mold his thoughts in his own way. He was led astray whilst the other two worked together to draw trust onto each other. So, the audience did not have room for doubt either.

In addition to all of that, the most fundamental foundation to Xielian’s trust for MingYi was that fact that he was the one who saved him from Huacheng in the first place. Simply because of the ghost city arc, we already place Huacheng and Hexuan on opposing sides rather than assuming they were accomplices. Furthermore, because of Xielian’s trust in Huacheng’s intellect and his belief of Huacheng’s prejudice against MingYi; he would constantly monitor Huacheng’s reaction to his own deductions. Unfortunately, Huacheng was a terrible basis point and by the time Xielian realizes it, it is too late. An ingenious tactic.

The author led us off track in such a brilliant manner, I had to sing praises at the end of this piece. The way our mind perceives people or situations, is the essence of our moral compass. The mind is subjective, so subjectivity in judgement is ever present, ever grey.

Notes:

This unforgettable and excruciatingly tragic arc is an important turning point in the book and we are all aware that it does not need a special summary. However, I wanted to start with a bit of a reintroduction, just to stay true to the essay tradition. Is this an essay? A think-piece? An analysis? I would not dare shame any of those academic classifications by claiming to be writing as such.

I hope this was enjoyable to read.

twitter link

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #mxtx #writings #analysis #ahhhh i promised I wouldn’t do anymore long post!!! sorry for your dashboard fill ;___;#*bow in apology*

58 notes · View notes

mcschnuggles · 4 years ago

Note

You inspired me lol and now I'm thinking of writing agere fics (I'm a regressor) but have never published anything I wrote to any site let alone AO3. Any advice?

Aww, that’s so sweet! I’m always happy to hear more people are writing agere :3

General advice: when you’re copy/pasting your text, use the “Rich Text” setting otherwise your text will format weird and there won’t be any spaces between your paragraphs

always always always preview your work before publishing it. It’ll confirm you don’t have any formatting errors and let you skim over to find any last minute spelling errors.

I don’t know why but your writing ability literally skyrockets after you publish something. It’s like magic. The point is that there will never be a point where you feel “ready” and you just gotta do it.

If you don’t get any comments right away, that really sucks, but don’t put yourself into a writing/update cycle to fill the void. I’ve done this multiple times. I’m getting better at it, but you will burn yourself out at that pace. Walk away, reward yourself with something you like that isn’t writing, and maybe later on ask some people if they’d be willing to read it (I love getting recs and try to comment on everything I read!)

Also! When you’re writing paragraphs, keep in mind that most people will be reading from a phone, not their desktop. Desktop view makes paragraphs look way smaller and more digestible, whereas the same paragraph can be a behemoth on mobile. I always try to keep this is mind when I’m writing

Tags are good but please don’t talk in them. Tumblr tags =/= AO3 tags. When I’m scrolling through fics, nothing makes my eyes glaze over quicker than a huge wall of tags. Try to keep them to a minimum (like if a character shows up for five seconds in chapter 1 of a 30 chapter story it might be best not to tag them) but do give hints as to what’s happening in your story! My personal system is to tag which characters regress and which are caretakers (Regressing!Character or Caregiver!Character) as well as major story themes (hurt/comfort, sickfic, any aus, etc)

On that note please write a summary! Tag walls make my eyes glaze over but “I suck at summaries please just read” pretty much ensures I’m not going to read. My method for writing summaries is to put everything in 2 sentences. Sentence 1 establishes the characters/setting/norms and sentence 2 sets up what makes this story different. For example:

I tend to fall back on this when I can’t think of a summary. But the most important thing about a summary is to have one. It’s not a big deal if your summary isn’t great. As long as it’s telling what the story is about, then it’s done its job.

Finally, people can be mean. In my experience, you don’t get a lot of hate, but if you’re nervous, moderating/restricting comments is totally valid. I usually do this the first time I’m publishing for a new fandom

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. Let me know if you have any more questions, I’d be more than happy to help! I can’t wait to see what you’ll write :3

8 notes · View notes

sophiemi · 5 years ago

Text

A Response to Hate + Wisdom, I Suggest Everyone Reads.

This is a pretty long post replying to some hate I got from a recent post I made about Mirajane Strauss and Laxus Dreyar, I linked it at the bottom of this if you would like to read it. I think everyone should read this post not only because its some piping hot tea, but there’s also a lot of other things I talk about in this that I feel like everyone should hear. Totally understand if you don’t want to read it though. Let me know what you think!

First here is what they/you said (in order):

Hi I just liked to start with I blocked you from send me anymore ask, but I’m letting you know if you change devices you can still ask me things or messages, if you DM (off anon) ill take your request seriously, but since you’re on anon I’m not gonna take you seriously, sorry. Especially after you were actually mean to me when I did nothing wrong, which is why I’m making this post even though I’d normally ignore it.

Lets start with the general Miraxus stuff, that post WAS NOT hate. You have to be delusional and overly obsessed to believe that was a hate post, or that I was spreading “false information.” In the post I literally said they had good development and linked a master list of ALL their interactions. The entire post was about how even though I don’t ACTIVELY ship them (meaning they are cute and I agree they would be a good couple, but I just don’t get that feeling where I’m like “oh okay yes them” and I feel the need to stalk them, ((not everyone hates what threatens their ships)), and I’m not denying they are very cute, and have a lot of cute art and moments, it just doesn’t hype me up the same way other ships do.) So, this post was pro-miraxus, I’m literally saying they honestly deserved to become canon/canon-ish like a lot of the other ships did, so it was not “cross tagged” the post was about mira and laxus and thats what I tagged it, if you are talking about the part where i tagged “#I feel sorry for anyone who ships miraxus” that is literally me validating anyone hurt over the ending. Again, I’m not following the Miraxus tag or any account solely dedicated to that ship so I didn’t even know he drew a kid or them, that’s super cool, good for you. I wasn’t being “biased” because I’m not neck deep in any ship for Laxus or Mira, yes i think CanaJane is cute but I know its very unrealistic, this is why I was able to form this opinion that they deserved better. The post was about how Mashima baited Miraxus the entire series, then said “Never!!!!” even if it was Lucy’s inner thoughts, Mashima knew what he was doing. I was saying, “wow that probably sucked if you really liked them! I’m sorry!” If you believe my post was to degrade Mira x Laxus and hype Cana x Mira, then you need to take a step back and re-evaluate yourself, I understand you are probably like 13-14 but that’s still not okay to attack people because they don’t agree with you, and if you are older that 13 or 14 that’s just embarrassing. I also believe that Freed x Laxus deserved a better ending and I also don’t actively ship that either, Freed spent the whole series wanting to protect and be by the side of Laxus and they had no interaction in the finale.

Next, lets go to the part about you saying I’m a “slash fetishizer shipper” (also i literally had to look up what this meant) I can only assume you canajane because i said they “hit different” right? Let me just re insert what you said to make sure I reply correctly

Yes I think Cana and Mira are very attractive, and I think they are hot together too. Hi i’m into girls. I am the woke points. I agree people make lgbt people into a fetish and don’t actually respect them, but that’s mostly males thinking lesbians are hot while being gross out by gay men, I may be naive but you don’t often see that on anime tumblr where half the people are gay anyway, not to mention most are female. This next part may be controversial I’m not sure, but people don’t need a reason to ship characters and no one can tell them who they can and can’t ship (this does not apply to shipping a child with an adult), so you can’t say only gay people can ship to people of the same gender, sorry that’s not how it works, i understand you’re trying to get those “woke points” but you just look like a fool. But then next you said this:

Actual author content? Oh you mean like the post I linked that showed EVERY SINGLE interaction/moment/hints that Miraxus had? Like I said, they had good development, and my post was about how the AUTHOR should’ve given them a better ending. I’d just like to add there are many moments that the AUTHOR wrote between Cana and Mira that made me ship them, if the AUTHOR never wrote anything to where they interacted, I wouldn’t ship them? This post is not about that though so I’m not gonna go anymore into them.

“false information” girl what? where? I’m genuinely curious, I used screenshots of the manga to present to idea that Miraxus deserved better and that’s all I talked about so I’m confused what you been by this:

So I can tell you took the one line where i said I like CanaJane more than Miraxus and in your mind twisted my entire PRO-miraxus argument into and anti post, this kind of behavior is toxic, and “its not a good look sir”

Let also clarify something, cross tagging is posting about something and tagging things completely unrelated, this post was about mira and laxus and thats what it was tagged about. Cross tagging is often used in shipping wars, but my post was pro-miraxus so it makes no sense for you to repeatedly say I was cross tagging and that’s why you were mad, it’s very clear you were just mad because I said I shipped CanaJane and that clouded your judgement when reading everything else. If you wanna see real cross tagging look up any naruto ship and scroll for about 3 seconds. So, no I won’t be removing the tags because that makes no sense, but if it’s important enough for you to message me off anon then we’ll talk.

My final section of this response is how hypocritical you were. Like with he part, “I don’t hate you” To quote tiktok and nicki minaj, “don’t be tryna double back, I already despise you”

As you can see you repeatedly said I was mean, but no where in my post did I say anything like “Mira x Laxus is gross, its toxic, its dumb, its...idk...forced!”, i literally never said anything like that because like I’ve said in this post and in that one, they’re cute and they had good development. You were the mean one in your response telling me i had “no reading skills whatsoever”, that i had a “lack of respect”, said I’m “more than pitiful” and this isn’t mentioning all of your back handed pettiness throughout every single message you sent, you think you “look cool” but “hun”...”sweetie”...you just look dumb, but at least you are on anon!

Educate myself? girl this isn’t politics, you’re pressed over a post saying your ship deserved better than it got??? What am I supposed to do watch the anime, read the manga, well good thing I did. GUESS WHAT THEY HAD GOOD DEVELOPMENT i can see why you ship them.

The only rude person here is you, you came into my asks and attacked me because you were blinded for reasons I can’t figure out, and you hid behind the anonymous setting which clearly means you don’t care that much about Miraxus, you just wanted to be mean.

If you’re reading this, and you sent me the messages, message me off anonymous, then we can realistically talk about me taking off my so called cross tagging, I really don’t care that much, I’m just baffled you had to audacity to come for me so hard then “nicely” ask me to remove the tags.

If you’re reading this and you didn’t send me these messages, thanks for reading, maybe share this so people understand that this behavior is not okay. I know what I got was mostly just petty ranting, but there are people who send way worse to others and its just not okay. Just because these aren’t are real accounts like these are fandom accounts doesn’t make it okay. Thanks!

Here is the post in reference:

https://emillyjacksonn.tumblr.com/post/617804123843280896/miraxus-shippers-really-got-played

#fairy tail #ft #ask #askme #Mirajane Strauss #mira #Mira Strauss #laxus #Laxus Dreyar #miraxus #canajane #fraxus

6 notes · View notes

morgansfave · 5 years ago

Text

so sometimes i go through these phases where I'm 110% done with life

then there are times like this.

I've been with this guy for almost two months now and I can't remember the last time i was this mentally exhausted. it's like, why am i putting myself though this? he's not abusive or anything and I'll get to him again later, but a relationship shouldn't CONSTANTLY feel like just another thing you have to deal with on top of everything else. I absolutely give up on talking to any of my friends about this because it always has one of three outcomes (or two or all):

they don't care

they tell me im being dramatic

they defend him/take his side

i just don't feel like dealing with that anymore, or at least at the moment. i don't want to have my feelings invalidated anymore. I'd rather just keep it bottled up at this point. and then i start thinking, are they really my friends? or do they just feel bad for me? or am i that annoying kid who can't take a hint/they don't know how to tell me to fuck off? because they're always belittling me. It's like I'm their fucking punching bag.

because I am. because I allow myself to be.

me and my passive, nonconfrontational ways. I'd rather take constant abuse than say or do anything to defend myself.

my "friends" as i will now refer to them honestly suck. i get that relationships are important to people, but i couldn't imagine completely abandoning my friends for my boyfriend. I'd NEVER. and they'd be pissed at me if i did. but I'm supposed to be okay with them doing it? it's fucking bullshit.

back to the boyfriend thing. god where do i even start. is he a bad boyfriend...no. maybe? i don't know. it's so fucking exhausting I can't stress this enough. I don't remember exactly how we met but i think it was some stupid instagram group chat. and we became best friends and i developed feelings because I'm a dumb bitch who catches feelings too fast. but the feelings i had for him weren't gone in a week like they normally were and i knew i was in trouble. i eventually told him how i felt in September and he miraculously liked me back. since that day, I've spent every single day wondering if he does actually like me or if he just didn't want to hurt my feelings, because sometimes it feels like the latter. I'd blame it on my paranoia, but I'm not the only one who sees it this way. in the past three days we've had maybe two full conversations??? (and i get being busy, but how hard is that to communicate? it takes seconds to say "hey I'm busy can't talk" but with him its more like, an 8 hour silence with a "hi" and the occasional "i miss you" i know im overly sensitive about everything, including this situation, but I can't be the only one who gets this).

i try so hard. and i don't necessarily mean in my relationship, but life in general i guess. i try so fucking hard and it's exhausting. i try so hard to fit in. i try so hard to be a good friend. a good girlfriend. a good person. i try so hard to do well in school. i try so hard to give people the benefit of the doubt. i try so hard to see the good in people.

someone once said that when you view the world through rose tinted glasses, red flags just look like flags. sure, i understood it upon first reading it, but now i understand it. I'd like to apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors from this point on (or at any point, really. I've never cared for proofreading) since im currently bawling my eyes out, but that's neither here nor there.

so my boyfriend does this specific thing a lot, I won't say what it is because it's a dumb thing to feel this upset about and i feel pathetic for crying over this, but at the same time i believe my feelings are valid, but he does this SO much and it hurts so much more than it should. i did mention my oversensitivity, earlier.

maybe I'm overreacting but when someone tells you that you're doing something that bothers them, you should actually try to fucking stop doing that thing if you care about them. within reason of course. the little things like telling cruel jokes at their expense, not asking to change something about you (physical appearance, personality, etc.). I've told this guy more times than i can count how much this thing hurts me and how much I've cried over it and it always goes the exact same "I'm sorry" and i forgive him, like a dumbass, and he does it again.

every. single. goddamn. time.

and i think, how much more of this can i tolerate? I'm so tired of talking about the same thing over and over and nothing changing. it's a waste of time.

he's also the type of guy who treats you different depending on who's there. when it's just us, it's amazing. but if even one of his friends is there, I'm almost invisible.

I'd talk to him about it but I don't see a point. it's a whole fucking cycle and im tired of being the only one left hurt and crying for days while he's having the fucking time of his life. if i didn't love him so much I'd let him go. I would've let him go a long time ago. the first time he did what i told him hurt me AGAIN. god why is everything in my life such a mess? i always tell myself to listen to my mother because when she doesn't like someone I'm involved with whether it be romantically or platonically, there's a reason. in all my years she's never been wrong ONCE. and i tell myself "maybe she's wrong about this one" and you know what? she probably will be wrong about a person one day, but it's never the person i want it to be.

she tells me a lot about this because she was in my position once. she doesn't want me to end up like her. brainwashed, naive, and pregnant before my life even started. luckily her life turns itself around, but that's rare. she doesn't want that for me and I'm so glad she's always there for me during the fallout after not listening to her.

it makes me feel bad for taking her advice for granted.

should i leave him? i have no fucking clue. do i want to? no, but if things don't change, i see no reason to stay. i can only remember very few times in my life where I've been this down and just tired. idk. rant over.

#personal #kat’s thoughts

4 notes · View notes

tidesreach · 6 years ago

Note

are there any hints early in the season that you'd say pointed to nico having bpd?

There are quite a lot, yes! I will try and note some down off the top of my head (I say as if I don't have the entire season constantly playing on a loop in my head). So, a list of hints towards Nico's diagnosis leading up to the end of Episode 8:

His lack of a smartphone probably

His subtle little dig at Marti being on his phone (I love that Nico's thought process on this was, "he's not paying enough attention to me so I'm going to put honey in this pasta. That'll show him!" Oh, darling boy)

Physically putting himself in between Marti and Emma (and then making a sly dig at her). Only to be left alone looking sad and regretful. *pets him* It's okay, love. Marti only has eyes for you

When he says "I can't leave her" about Maddalena. The reason he gives may have been entirely made up but his fear of leaving Maddalena is very real. Maddalena has stuck with him despite his illness and everything it entails and someone like that is a terrifying thing to lose, even if the relationship isn't working. I've been there. Maddalena is safe. Marti is not. He is a such a risk

Maddalena berating him for drinking too much alcohol (likely because excessive alcohol is a common impulsive and self-damaging behaviour associated with BPD), which then makes him feel smothered and controlled and leads to him--

--impulsively ditching her to go break into an abandoned swimming pool with the love of his life his crush

His quick mood shift when talking about being alone in the world re: the last man on earth scenario which hints towards his fears of loneliness and being abandoned. Note how Nico immediately involves Marti in his last man on earth scenario ("I'd run around naked. With you.")

Ignoring Marti's texts because he needed some time alone and then asking to meet him seemingly out of the blue. I feel this on such a deep level

Freezing Marti out and getting back with Maddalena after Marti's comment about people with mental illness inevitably triggered his abandonment issues. Like I said, Maddalena is safe. Nico has years of proof that she won't abandon him. Marti -- especially after that dumb comment -- is just *ALARM BELLS* "HE WILL LEAVE YOU! HE WILL ABANDON YOU! YOU ARE A BURDEN!"

(Also the wording of the text he later sends Marti: I know it's my fault.)

The push-and-pull of isolating himself from Marti but still trying to hold onto him, e.g. his roundabout way of inviting him to the terrace, giving Marti the little flip notes after being rejected by him. "I'm out looking for the virus." I'm trying to sort my head out

The little vial for his impossible personality (*wails* if only Marti knew how literal that comment was, gosh). "You can use it on the virus or on my impossible personality." He gives him a choice and hopes that Marti will prove him wrong and not abandon him, that Marti will validate him and think he's worth it. You can go back to living your life problem-free without me or you can take a risk on me and my impossible personality. My baby boy *sobs*

Literally showing up at Bracciano unannounced after Marti's text to prove to Marti that he wants to be with him because he can't lose him. The threat was real. Go big or go home. He just loves Marti so fucking much???? My whole heart hurts. Niccolò, darling. I imagine that whole day was a mess of conflicting emotions for him--which is probably why it took him a while to finally get there

"I want to figure out what I feel for myself." Just let him be happy and in love, people!!!!!! But for real, if I had a £ every time someone dismissed my feelings and chalked it up to something imagined by my BPD I'd have bought a villa on a Greek island by now and be sipping piña coladas on the beach

Throwing bits of paper at Marti because please!!! pay!!! attention!!! to!!! me!!!

His mum's reaction to Marti and her concern that Nico and Marti are "always together" and his subsequent mood change from giddy throwing-things-at-my-boyfriend to literally devastated :(((((((

Impulsively fucking off to Milan with Marti to escape everyone who is smothering him (what a whole mood) and to just be with the boy he loves. He just wants to be with Marti. That's all. He's just in love. Honestly if people were less judgmental and actually took the time to listen to him in regards to his own fucking illness his episode might not have been so extreme. Or triggered at all. Yells in frustration. I feel your pain, Niccolò. I really fucking do

There's a whole lot of impulsive behaviour in regards to Milan. A lot of impulsive spending. Obviously the going there in the first place. But also, the super fancy and clearly expensive apartment with the skyline view? All of that sushi? Sushi is not cheap, my friends. Also Marti implied that they'd been off galavanting and sight-seeing earlier so god only knows how much Nico spent that trip. Looking at his finances after Milan would have been decidedly not fun. I have been in that situation far too many times. A moment of silence for Nico's bank account please

Obviously his later episode goes without saying

PSA: this illness sucks. But it sucks a lot less when the people we love acknowledge our emotions. Poor Niccolò's being pushed and pulled in so many different ways its no wonder he reacted the way he did. People think that our actions and emotions should be dismissed because they're just a by-product of our illness. When that's not the case at all. We act and react in certain ways because we experience our emotions much more intensely than others. Emotional extremes. Not because they're not real. Because of this we're often made to feel like our feelings aren't valid. Which is damaging because we already have trouble sorting through our emotions as it is without other people trying to tell us how we feel. People place far too many neurotypical expectations on relationships.

God bless Martino Rametta for acknowledging Niccolò's feelings and being willing to alter his expectations and learn. What a wonderful boy. ♡♡♡♡♡

#this got long #story of my life #skam italia #aela answers things #skam italia: thoughts

229 notes · View notes

echotovalley · 6 years ago

Text

we rule the kingdom inside my room // king of my heart

modern royalty au

“Wait, you’re a what?”

The word has more bite than he means, the sound causing Lance to flinch as it slaps awkwardly against Shiro’s clean, off-white walls. Keith’s fighting panic - not because of the word itself, but the possibility that this is some horrible prank he’s being slapped on the end of.

Wouldn’t be the first time he just walked right into one of Lance’s jokes or puns. But they had stayed pretty tame, Lance never took it past a certain degree and Keith had gotten Lance to fall for a few of his own. It was some personal mantel Lance had taken up against Keith that turned into their one and only outlet for flirting before they had the Good Ol’ Feelings Talk.

This isn’t how he wanted to end their night, he demands soft and comfortable and fucking adorable because they deserve this.

Their date was supposed to be dinner with Shiro, then cuddling on the couch while they bummed off of Shiro’s Netflix account and Shiro washed the dishes (he adamantly insisted on them not helping him - in hindsight, it was blatantly obvious as a ploy to conveniently be absent at the scene of the crime). They were supposed to watch a few episodes of a show and kiss intermittently until Shiro kicked them out of his apartment to go make out on one of their own couches. Even though they did a pretty good job about keeping themselves in check as guests or if other people were around them together at either his or Lance’s. They didn’t just disappear behind a bedroom door every time someone turned around and that’s supposed to mean the universe meets them halfway because honestly, have people seen Lance???

Keith deserves a medal for this kind of self-control.

For what it’s worth, Lance looks physically pained by the audible gulp as he swallows around a lump in his throat. The one in Keith’s damn near cuts out his breathing entirely.

“I’m a prince?”

Keith raises his eyebrows, bites the inside of his cheek. “Are you asking me?”

Lance scrubs his hands over his face - Keith bites back the urge to tell him his face is going to get red and splotchy, catches himself from reaching into Lance’s hoodie that he’s wearing for the stem toy in the pocket or from handing over the good hair tie on his own wrist. A part of Keith enjoys seeing Lance sweat so much because if this is a joke...if this is Pidge and Hunk barreling out of the closet with the washer and dryer armed with a camera in the next twenty seconds, he wants this moment to not be easy.

Eventually, they were going to have their first fight.

So like, if it’s tonight, Keith’s...He doesn’t wa-

He ignores another urge to beg Lance to just forget it and call the ultimate forever truce on the joke-rivalry thing they used to exhaust the unresolved tension they stored up. He feels heat flush the back of his neck because this is dramatic, he’s being dramatic, everything’s going to be fine. Lance will backpedal and Keith will stand to punch him in the arm and call him an asshole for all of the grief and Shiro will quip in with some sage dating advice that assists Lance and Keith in the development and maturity of their relationship because his life is a sitcom.

That’s not what happens when Lance abruptly goes back to pacing Shiro’s living room, muttering under his breath in Spanish. “Verónica hizo esta mirada fácil.”

Shiro’s head pops around the corner of the kitchen, sweeping his gaze over them and Keith begs, wills, him to understand and do what Keith needs without him verbalizing it.

To tell Lance this isn’t funny.

Demand to know how he thought it would be okay.

To kick him out.

To make him stay until Keith could sort out whatever nightmare he was in and for reality to fall back into its rightful place where Lance would kiss him just short of breathless and ask if he wanted to go out for ice cream or have an impromptu sleepover in their PJs watching cartoons until they fell asleep.

Or tell Keith that class and work had reduced him to a feverish haze that induced hallucinations.

Instead, Shiro is Shiro.

“Hey.”

Keith holds his breath, lets it out and allows his heart to break a little when he realizes he isn’t talking to Keith, but to Lance. With that soft, “Go, be great.” look that softens the corners of his eyes and stretches the scar across his nose.

“Deep breaths, Lance.”

It’s just so...hurtful.

The way it instantly gets Lance to relax his lanky frame in a whoosh before he’s squaring his shoulders again. Shiro doesn’t offer anything for Keith before he’s ducking back into the kitchen and the sound of the tap echoes throughout the room.

“I...Well technically, Rachel and I, are- We won the birth lottery? Fuck, I’m doing the question thing again. Okay, so. I’m a prince. My parents are the King and Queen of my home country, but not as absolute monarchs? We encourage our people to vote for their leaders in a government that was formed when my great-great grandparents were kids and make their homeland a good place and we do fancy shindigs with really old money and jewels to raise money or bring attention to issues we care about and build relationships with other world leaders outside of UN proceedings. We’re just figureheads with antique china, but I digress.”

Keith drops his head in hands and swears.

“Language.”

He glares in the direction of the kitchen before cutting his gaze back on Lance. “H-how did you keep this a secret? Why did you keep this a secret for so long?”

Lance shrugs, a moment of nonchalance weaving through his frame before the tension settled back over his shoulders. “England shoulders most of the spotlight, but also, we’re a small Latino country most people aren’t aware have a royal family. Especially Westerners.”

Grime paints the inside of Keith’s mouth as he breathes out an, “Oh.” He recovers, scowls. “That only answers one of my questions.”

“Well, it wasn’t just my secret to tell now, was it? Rachel and I are here for school, this university has one of the best engineering programs out there and we wanted to travel without the hassle. Plus, I was dying to go to Disney World. It isn’t something I just want to tell people right off the bat, you get treated differently. People expect perks of being chummy with a royal. Gets even weirder when you’re being hit on by one. Also, I’m pretty sure you would have punched me if I hit on you then followed that up with the ‘I’m a Prince’ spiel.”

Keith folds his arms and flops back on the couch. “If memory serves, you got my number from Pidge’s phone to ask me about an assignment for a class I wasn’t even in.”

A small smirk tips the corner of Lance’s mouth up and warms his eyes. “I had to get creative with you, you were exceptionally good at deflecting and I have a desperate need to embarrass myself in front of you - if your memory serves more than one dish.” Lance takes a step toward the couch and nods to the spot beside Keith, waits for Keith’s whatever shrug in return before sitting down heavily. “I wasn’t going to bring necessary drama into it if by chance we didn’t work out and you blocked my number and stole all of my friends with your bad haircut and cool fingerless gloves in a few weeks.

“I knew if and when I started seeing someone, I would wait until a certain point to make sure mutual attraction and dating interest were still a thing. But I also knew that waiting longer would make it worse and hurt someone I really care about. Kind of sucks because in action, I’m hurting them either way. I didn’t want to just shove all of this onto you if I didn’t have to, but this-” Lance points at the space between them, hand staying a measured distance from Keith’s. “-is going somewhere, so I need to. This isn’t some grandiose plot for me to live out some Disney prince fantasy where I whisk you away on some breathtaking journey.”

“So, what is this then?”

Lance takes a deep breath and nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I wanted you to be somewhere you’d feel safe and familiar, near a person that has managed to get through your thick skull how validated your convoluted, mullet head is in everything you think and feel. You deserve to steer the course of your life and, if you’re with me, I can’t promise either of us will be in charge at any given time because of my responsibilities and the scrutiny that comes down with it. And like, as much as it would hurt to watch you go...if you don’t want to see me again, I can do that too.”

Keith knows his eyebrows are doing that thing where they disappear behind his bangs, opens and closes his mouth a few times hoping the words would rearrange and settle in his head long enough for him to unpack it...somehow. Shiro with his winning timing and eavesdropping abilities saves them both the trouble with a long-suffering sigh from around the corner.

“Dial it back a bit, Lance.”

The breath Lance sucks in shakes and rattles in his chest, jerks his knee in a disjointed reflex that knocks against Keith’s. “Right, yeah. Promised I would try being less dramatic.”

Keith feels the right amount of sorry for himself - he figures he’s owed that because they’re either breaking up or well, Keith honestly has no clue what the other option means. What it will lead to. What it will do to them. But the aborted laugh Lance tries for sounds wet and his dumb heart twists violently in his chest, tries to drop kick one of his lungs, and beats at his ribs like a xylophone.

Even after Lance has run his fingers through his hair so many times by now that it sticks up at odd angles and his color looks a bit off, there’s still the smart press of his shirt and subtle hints of cologne that Keith would die for at this point. He thought this would have been easy, he managed not to beat around the bush with Lance - even though he was terrified Lance wouldn’t feel the same way and it would grind their friendship into dust. God, the first time they kissed?

The first time Lance ran his fingers through Keith’s hair and brushed his nails lightly over his scalp at the base of his skull?

Earlier that day when everything had still been simple and the only surprise was the full body shudder that caught both of them off guard at the press of Keith’s mouth against the soft corner of Lance’s jaw.

He needs to realize this was never simple, especially for Lance. It means Keith has to deal with a lot of feelings a lot sooner than he anticipated. But now there was this time crunch? Keith needed to either get very serious very fast or end this with Lance.

And he really, really, really did not want to end this.

Keith takes a deep breath, buries a hand in the pocket of the hoodie to ghost his fingers over the familiar stem toy. “You’re giving me an out at any time?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to take it?”

“To protect you? Yes. Honestly, though? I can be pretty damn selfish when it comes to you. I want you to stay. I want to work through this so I can take you back home to make out in the huge hall full of period artwork. There’s a pretty comfy antique couch that’s right under this huge painting that was gifted to like my sixth great-grandparents.”

And there was the magnetic energy that had Keith’s fingertips buzzing under Lance’s hooded gaze, just like that.

“I figured we could keep doing this, y’know? We have four more months of the school year left and if we survive finals week, that’d put us at six months of dating. That’d be okay-ish time, I think, to ask my boyfriend of six months to spend his first week of summer vacation with me to meet my family doing cool rich kid stuff to impress the shit out of him.”

That gets Keith to smile, Shiro’s chuckle rounds the corner. “Much better.”

Lance presses their legs together as he shifts closer to Keith. “If my family doesn’t drive you up the walls or run you out of town, then we could do some public outings as a group with my siblings to see how you feel about press and stuff. Then....we’ll see?”

He watches Lance pick at a loose thread in Keith’s jeans, near his knee. Stares the movement down instead of meeting Lance’s gaze and catching his fingers when Lance starts to make the pulled thread longer. He wants so badly to voice his thoughts, communicate his fears and the crushing weight of nervousness on his chest and comfort Lance, but he isn’t that brave or well-spoken. He feels a little bit better when Lance pulls his hand out from Keith’s to wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him awkwardly into his side, a quiet understanding that neither of them has a clue what they’re doing.

Keith melts into his touch, welcomes the warm fuzz that takes over his brain when Lance begins to brush his shaggy bangs away from his forehead and ghosts his thumb over Keith’s temple.

Lance ducks his head closer to Keith’s to whisper in his ear. “Hm, I do want you to know that I’ll never be sorry for beating your top score in Space Invaders at the arcade, though. Royally handing you your ass will be one of my - if not the - greatest feats on the mainland.”

Things don’t really change all that much.

At least, not yet.

Lance still invites him over to eat ungodly amounts of junk food while binge-watching shows on Netflix and they wind up hopelessly tangled up on the couch after fervent kisses. Rachel still comes back to their shared apartment precisely at times like those and teases Lance relentlessly until he’s burying his flushed face in the crook of Keith’s neck.

Rachel still talks to Keith and they study together for a statistics course they share.

Lance gets onto him occasionally for trying Not To Inconvenience His Royal Highness. For example, he stopped texting or calling Lance in the middle of the night if he couldn’t sleep because insomnia or stress from school because he knows Lance would always drive over to Keith’s apartment, crawl into bed with him and let Keith talk it out or talk to Keith about anything and everything - sometimes in Spanish if Lance was too tired to notice the dialect swap and Keith didn’t point it out. It’s cathartic for both of them, but that was also when Lance was just a tired undergrad like him that enjoyed lavishing physical attention on Keith when he wanted it.

‘If you stop texting me for midnight cuddling, I will literally move into your hallway closet and never leave. I’ll eat all of your snacks and take back my hoodie.’

The only thing that did change that is driving Keith insane?

The floodgates to prince/royalty puns have opened and Keith is this close to never speaking to Lance again because they’re godawful and constant. It takes Keith a few weeks to pick up on a portion of them being to normalize the situation and to remind him that Lance is still Lance.

Oh, and apparently their ‘uncle’ that lives in town is actually a chaperone/bodyguard Joe-from-The-Princess-Diaries type. Keith had met him before and they got along, he liked Keith as far as he knew but now he’s rethinking every single interaction and every possible wrong step he could make because while Joe was wise and patient and kind and supportive - it was apparent he’d cut a bitch for the Queen and Mia.

Keith doesn’t want any trouble.

Weirdly enough, Lance and Rachel will randomly complain about royal things in front of him that he doesn’t really get, but it’s an opportunity for Keith to hit them back with snarky comments about royal life versus his as a mere commoner. Those always have Rachel and Lance laughing at themselves and begin the round of stories of increasingly convoluted social situations they’ve been in or had to witness.

This is the easy part, the calm before the storm, but Keith thinks he’s making great process accepting the fact that he doesn’t actually know a huge chunk of Lance’s life while simultaneously working through the minimal pain of needing to relearn the person his boyfriend actually is.

Their biggest hiccup to date was one night while they were all three crammed into Shiro’s kitchen cooking dinner, Lance asks for some seasoning and Shiro produces it with a cringe-worthy flourish, adopting some terrible combination of accents. “Your wish is my command, Your Majesty.”

Keith is willing to accept that this has to be how Nick felt the first time he heard Gatsby say Old Sport and every thousandth time after and move along with their evening when Keith looks over his shoulder to see Lance’s hand still outstretched for the shaker and his eyes resolutely glued to the floor. A second later, Lance shakes his head to pull himself back into the moment and offers a stilted grin to Shiro in return.

“Can we, uh, not do that? I-uh. Yeah.”

It gets them a free pass at cuddling on the couch, wrapped together like a burrito under Shiro’s good blanket, and Lance’s favorite dessert as an apology. Keith gets Lance to joke in hushed whispers, making up new dialogue or doing bad lipreading over the show they’re watching as he runs his fingers through Lance’s hair.

Things He Has To Relearn About His Boyfriend, A Prince

just because he wanted to go to Disney, doesn’t mean he wants to live there

#klance #laith #VLD #I am posting this by the seat of my pants #I've been awake for over 21 hours #I've gotten to another weird place in my writing so I'm testing this idea out #we now return to your regularly scheduled broadcast #Keith Kogane #Lance McClain #writing tag

44 notes · View notes

bran098 · 7 years ago

Text

love is a many splintered thing

”If your friend is causing you more harm than worth, write them off. It’s an insult to them to keep them around. It’s an insult to your life to waste a minute on someone who’s sucking your oxygen.” -Lisa Lampanelli

”And it’s beginning to get to me That I know more of the stars and sea Than I do of what’s in your head Barely touching in our cold bed…“ -Snow Patrol, It’s Beginning to Get to Me

I’ll write this down on paper so I won’t blow this out of proportion. My mind’s been unraveling with different versions of our conversations, with different aspects of you and your intentions. A multiplicity of madness. I can usually push it down and move on with my day but in the night hours when it’s quiet, the paranoia takes its chance to bubble up with a reminder of unfinished business. Of unrequited infatuation. Of mistaken identity.

Bear with me while I scribble these notes in order to figure us out.

I have the pen and paper. The only thing I’m missing is the facts. As much as I shared with you, you were a cocoon. I didn’t understand how communication could be so bad and you couldn’t see any benefit. You never opened up and you left without saying goodbye. And you took with you any closure that we might have had. That might be the cruelest part of all.

Humans have a tendency to make and break resolutions easily. It takes no effort to make a statement. We will not eat that cookie. We will not smoke that cigarette. We will not stay with someone who does not nourish us.

But it also takes no effort to give into the sweet and the smoke. We always err on the side of entropy. We self-destruct. We gravitate toward bad boys and full fat. And it’s even easier to be swayed by someone significant to us. Especially when they aren’t good for us. It’s the danger that we lick up like cream, words that intoxicate, fantasies that fuel our self-flagellation.

Was I just using you like medication? Text messages that popped up like popping a pill. It sedated me, satisfied me in ways nothing else could. But I don’t think I wanted you around solely for comfort.

That’s the confusing part about being a human, right?. Why do we gravitate toward certain people? Why do we fall in love? Why do we get married? These people make us feel good. They make us happy. So is being with someone inherently selfish? Or is it just a perk of partnering up?

Either way, I really did care about you. I really was interested in you, not just what you could do for me, but what you wanted to do for everyone, the difference you wanted to make, the life you wanted to live. I just wonder if you actually ever felt that way about me. But I suppose it doesn’t even matter now. How you feel or felt or never felt at all has no bearing on the current situation. What matters now is that you’re gone and I have to learn how to deal with it without your help.

More than anger, confusion, or sadness, I was mostly disappointed. You know not many people stick around. And although I accept when people leave me, I don’t necessarily expect it. I just understand that people will come and go. I just thought, hoped, you would want to stay.

I can acknowledge that I might very well be crazy. I know we were never more than friends. You never even hinted at romance. But I thought you were special and thought you thought I was as well. Why else would we keep coming back to each other time after time, despite the disagreements and inability to be long-distance and long-term?

And really, despite what we might have been, friends or otherwise, it’s just not cool to treat someone this way. You can’t cultivate a relationship with drive-by conversations followed by extended periods of silence, sweet talk ushering in mean-spirited jokes, undivided attention proceeding by ambivalence.

We’ve gone through this many times before. We talk. You go away. I wait. And when I miss you too much, I get in touch. And we pick up. And we don’t talk about the past. And when we do, it’s never productive. And then you go away again. I wait. You get in touch. And we only retread the same tired ground. It feels very shallow a lot of the time. I gave you so much of myself and although it felt good to have someone to listen and I often took advantage of that privilege, I encouraged you to open up as well. But you remained closed off.

After all these years, I’m starting to realize I don’t know that much about you.

I tried to fix that. But I think you preferred it that way.

During our most recent hiatus, I had some time to think while waiting for you to resurface again. I wasn’t even sure you’d resurface at all but I realized maybe I didn’t want you to get back in touch. The compliments and validation were nice but I shouldn’t need them to feel confident in myself. And when I dug deeper into us, that’s where the good ended. As complimentary as you could be, you could also be unkind. You made several comments about my nowhere job and joked about me not being as intelligent or successful as you are.

It’s almost as if you fed me enough BS to keep me invested, to get more information that you later used to make me feel bad about myself. It’s like you kept me around and put me down to somehow make yourself feel better by comparison. You knew how to be grating enough to hurt me without me cutting you off entirely. You knew how to bruise my self-esteem just enough so that I’d crave your compliments all the more.

I’m not sure now if you were just a sucky friend or a psychopath.

I will never understand people. And I will never understand love. What does it mean? How does it feel? What’s it like to have a connection with someone that you don’t feel for anyone else in the world? What’s it like to love someone just because they are living, to want the best for them, to want to give your own life in the assurance that theirs will be long and happy?

I guess I was naive enough to think that you might be someone who could explain all that to me. I’d hoped your love would branch off into all categories, teaching me about life and people, heaven and the universe that swims within it. But instead, it often feels like my heart’s been splintered into paranoia and pessimism.

Surprisingly, I’m not even angry. I simply just suffer. But I choose to hold on to the good times, the happy conversations, and the liberation I once felt when I was resting within your comforting words. It’s the only way I can keep from crumbling.

#writing

1 note · View note