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libbee · 2 years ago

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Self development series: It is almost impossible to know how others perceive you.

For a trauma survivor, social circle can be a tough nut to crack. Whether they are in classroom or with family or on a date or on social media, they are always worrying what others think about them. They would not consciously know but their behaviour shows they are trying to impress others/mould their opinion/desperate for likes dislikes views. What happened in offline world before is now visible on social media clearly. When their self esteem is terribly low, no achievement or external validation is ever enough. They are always unsure of themselves. Even for a non trauma survivor, people's perception is impossible to find out. Some might think that this post and blog are thoughtful or deep, while others might think that I am a complete dumbass and a noise. Even my choice of words, language, tone of writing and your own life stage, experience, perception will affect your judgment - it is that multidimensional how mind works.

While it is important to trust your own perception about the world, it is, at the same time, very hard, or even impossible, to know how others perceive you. You might think in your mind that others look down upon you/think you are boring/think you are ugly/think you are lazy, but do you actually know what they really think of you? A tyrannical parent is someone who controls their children, tells them lies about the world, tells them lies about themselves. "You are not that good", "You could have done better, there is nothing to celebrate", "Yeah, I see you got that degree, you must be too proud now". The parent does not even know they are downright invalidating their child, they just think that they are normal. A low self esteem girl is hungry for male approval. She will put down other women, compete with other women, but live in complete denial of her deep seated insecurity.

I have read through many resources but could not find one legitimate answer for "how to know others' perception of me?" The only answer was "ask them". Well, how would you ask others what they think about you? They might lie. And how many people in the world will you approach? You are barely around 100 people in daily life. You are only left with assumptions about YOURSELF.

Different people have different priority. Scorpios want deep intimate partner so they might think fwb situation is risky and stupid. Gemini want fast intellectual stimulation so they might think that quiet people are boring and uninteresting. Aries are leaderly and dominating so they might think that spiritual ones are lazy and unambitious. How many people will you "prove" yourself to? If your self esteem is low enough, you might as well overcompensate for it by really getting out of your way to flaunt, show off, sneakily post that shiny car in your story.

When we act out of low self esteem, we think that we have actually done something - while we may have just made a fool of ourselves in reality. For example, when I was in school and was the queen of gutter-land-self-esteem, I would be class clown, sarcastic, quick, witty (I am gemini moon). I made others laugh and that gave me massive validation... for 2 minutes. Then I would again wait for the next opportunity to tell jokes and feed on laughter for validation. So on, everyday. Validation seeking at school took so much of my energy that when I came back home I would be exhausted, tired and had mood swings.

If scientists invent a mirror in future that somehow answers "tell me, mirror on the wall, what does xyz think of me?" I think this gadget will break the market. Until then, we just have to live with self development and inner work. Recent example is Andrew Tate. All of us who are self aware would know how insecure this man was. His self improvement talks were just not enough when his complete philosophy was so self destructive. He might appear rich, give confident facial expressions, do podcast by citing biological instincts of men, but we can see how hard he was trying to manipulate other people's opinions about him. This is a case of unevolved person, someone who is unaware and in complete denial.

I can see insecurities in Andrew Tate because I have been there, done that. Same for any other celebrity who appear wise on social front - but are terribly insecure on personal front, when they are alone by themselves.

This underatanding will set you free and give you more time and energy to focus on your inner life. You might as well break the intergenerational cycle. Knowing the limitations of your brain will set you free. I believe that active imagination might help one to see how their character appears to others. You are, after all, collective unconscious, but that would require years of inner work.

#astro community #astro notes #astro observations #astro placements #astro tumblr #astroblr #astrology #astrology blog #astrology and mental illness #astrology notes #astrology observations #dark astrology #self improvement #shadow self #self development

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molsno · 1 year ago

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@transellyy tagged me in a reddit refugee thing even though neither of us are reddit refugees but I'll do it for her. :3 besides it's basically just 20 random questions anyway

Name? vivi!

Pronouns and gender? she/it, of course I consider myself a trans woman but to be more specific I'm like a boygirlthing

Sexuality? ace lesbian :3

Country? usa

Top 5 fandoms? otherside picnic, zero escape, erm... I don't really do fandoms but those are the only big ones for me I guess

What is your Most forbidden snack? if I wanted to eat something I shrimply would

Would you pet a bug? 😨 not a chance, if I see a bug I scream and run away

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. there's a ghost that lives in my head that tends to come out when I listen to music. I've felt its presence for several years but I wasn't really consciously aware of it until... I dunno, around last october or so?

What does the color blue taste like? blue raspberry slushies, my favorite flavor :3

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? my gf hehe 🥰

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? generally I'm a pretty cautious person. but the stupidest thing I've ever done was deny myself the ability to love trans women. it genuinely caused me years of anguish and self hatred

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? that's a tough call with how often people try to get into stupid arguments with me on here. but probably the most ridiculous was the trans guy who was such a transmisogynist he invented the terms ATA and ATE, which stand for anti transmasculinity affected and anti transmasculinity exempt. barring that, probably the time my sister said she doesn't think anything that happened before the 1800s was real

Hyperfixation song? it changes fairly often but I think my most recent hyperfixation song is laura les - haunted. I'm not really a geccer but a friend linked me this song and I fell in love with it instantly

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? my profile picture is my oc, asuka tachibana. small snippet of her personality description: "Asuka is a rude, egotistical person. She looks down on and belittles nearly everyone she comes into contact with, especially men, often for very petty and superficial reasons. Its massive ego is often undermined by an incredibly short fuse. When people snap back at its rude quips or otherwise threaten its superiority, it gets easily riled up, and will fight back until it wins." I've had the same username for like a decade and it's a shortened version of moltensnow, which I made up when I was like 11 because I loved the freezyflame galaxy in super mario galaxy

Dream career as a child? game developer

Dream career as an adult? game developer... but idk, lately I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do. I don't really have a definitive answer

Thoughts on cilantro? never had it

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? nah

What is your cursed food combination? for some reason my mom always made spaghettios whenever she made tacos and now I still do that to this day

Trans rights? NO!!!! 😡 just kidding can you imagine

I shall tag @bubblegumpumpkin @mothgirlyuri @iavenjqasdf @vivi266 @theghostiedyke

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dykelawlight · 1 year ago

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How would Female L, Light, Mikami, Matsuda, Soichiro, and Mogi be?

Well babe you sure came to the right place with this one!!! I've obviously written fic that provides some of my opinions re L/Light/Mikami as women but I sure am happy to extrapolate

I see female L as like. A lesbian who's lazily gnc. Like she's not "doing" butchness but she's also not "doing" anything, she's just existing. She doesn't shave, she keeps her hair fairly short, she wears men's clothes because they're significantly more comfortable. She wants to do whatever takes up the least of her time and makes it easiest for her to think clearly. I think of anybody she's the one who would change the least from her canon personality if she were written as a woman, because I think she would have gender roles inflicted upon her much less harshly, being that she didn't grow up in Japan and was raised to be first and foremost a supergenius, not a Woman™ who happens to be smart.

Light

I could write about female Light for DAYYYYYYSSSS (and indeed I have; see this post about butch Light I wrote before I made this blog). I see Light as a butch lesbian who gets through life experiencing minimal social punishment for that due to the fact that she's perceived as prioritizing intelligence over appearance and following in her father's footsteps, even though I actually think she's extremely particular and even a little obsessive about how she looks/presents herself socially. I think she's had to combat a lot of bullshit attitudes about what women are "supposed" to be doing in order to rise to the top of the nation academically and be taken even a little bit seriously, but I also think she has a "not like other girls" streak a mile wide and generally considers other women to be stupid and not worth her time. Strongly prefers the company of men except in romantic contexts (as much as she "prefers" anybody, because she's still a total misanthrope who thinks most other people are fucking morons) and hardly has a lot of girlfriends. She has more respect for other butches than for feminine women, but does not have butch friends and is not involved in the broader LGBT community.

I actually don't think she's explicitly out as a lesbian for years and years, maybe even until post-timeskip, because she recognizes that there's a greater disadvantage to openly being gay than to being a woman who is masculine in appearance but ostensibly heterosexual. I think she dates a lot of random smart & successful but very boring boys/men in high school/college before she sort of drops out of the public sphere entirely when she starts living in the task force building. I think it makes her crazy insane that L simply does not think about her appearance very much and successfully just coasts on her intellect without ever being questioned about why she isn't a "girl" the way Light has been from time to time throughout her life.

Mikami

I think Light and Mikami are very similar as women, but Mikami lacks the social insulation that Light gets from her father's job/her class position. Mikami is consciously "doing" masculinity in the same way Light is, but has to fight a lot harder than Light does to be taken seriously in her field because she doesn't have the built-in advantage of being constantly positively compared to a successful man in her family. I think she was a tomboyish child and the bullying she canonically experienced in school had a lesbophobic edge, which made her mother's failure to support her that much more painful (but simultaneously less of a disappointment, because she never expected her mother would want her to be gay/masculine). That said, the higher she rises in the legal/law enforcement field, the easier it becomes to command respect. By the time she's a serious attorney in the public prosecutor's office post-timeskip, she receives very little bullshit from colleagues/other people and has developed a sufficiently imperious front to ward it off.

Matsuda

I think Matsuda is a little bit more serious/defensive of herself as a police officer than she is canonically if she's written as a woman. Obviously this doesn't eliminate her sort of klutzy cringefail personality, but I think she's much more self-conscious about it because the law enforcement field is so male-dominated and she's already given so much less respect than her peers. I think she takes personal offense to L's like "Matsuda grab me a coffee" bullshit because she already gets assumed to be, like, a receptionist or something on a daily basis. She's young-looking for her age and fairly feminine but not excessively so — think Naomi Misora's canon appearance. I think she's also much more protective of Misa when she's pretending to be her manager and leans more heavily into the idea of maintaining Misa's virtue and modesty and shit when Yotsuba slimeballs et al. make passes at her. She thinks Light and Misa's relationship is adorable and is completely, 100% oblivious to the fact that they're fucking. Like I'm not completely sure that she knows lesbians are real.

Soichiro

I can only imagine Soichiro as straight lmao like I think it's necessary for her to be doing heterosexuality at least mostly "correctly" in order for Light to get by unscathed as a butch lesbian. Therefore I'm imagining her as this sort of austere older woman who beat the odds and is maybe the first/only woman to have achieved her rank on the force. I can't decide if this means that male Sachiko is like a stay-at-home dad that Soichiro gets "playfully" ribbed (i.e. literally lightly scolded) at work for "emasculating," or if Light and Sayu have a very different childhood as children of a dual-income household whose mom isn't home much. Either way, I think Light still idolizes her, but there's a different dimension to it being that she's the first woman who's gotten as far as she has on the Tokyo police force. I think Light sets her sights more clearly on being a cop or a prosecutor in this scenario and wants to equal and surpass her mom's achievements, even though Light generally doesn't otherwise give a fuck about women who are the "first woman" to do anything. (She's like [redditor voice] Um I actually don't see why gender matters in this scenario. Sad that some of you are so sexist that you think women should be applauded for doing the same things men do. 🙄)

Mogi

Mogi would be so hot as a butch dyke that I got dizzy attempting to type this out. That said, I think she's the kind of butch Light is inclined to avoid; she's this big-boned, kind of working-class woman and Light thinks she's above all that, because Light sucks.

Alternatively, if she was straight, I think she would have trouble being perceived as genuinely "feminine" because she's strong as hell and has kind of naturally masculine features. I think she experiences some of the same professional problems a female Matsuda would but for different reasons; Matsuda is this cute young girl who clearly has no business being a police officer, but Mogi is sort of met with the attitude that she's a cop because no other job would take a woman who looks like her. I think she's used to being insulted and takes it in stride but is still privately pissed off about it. People are always kind of rudely surprised that she has a boyfriend and that they live together. That said I think she's still quite kind and good-hearted the way she canonically is and is similarly protective of Misa in the way Matsuda is.

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thetldrplace · 2 years ago

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January Reading

Il Gattopardo- Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa (1956)

This book has taken me a long time to read. I started a week before Christmas. When a 250 page book takes me 5 weeks to read... well... I struggled. I don't know why this one has been such a struggle. The story concerns Sicily at the time of Italian unification, so it should have held more interest for me, but I honestly only usually managed 4-5 pages at a time.

The story is about the Salinas, an aristocratic family at a time of change in Italy. Gattopardo, in Engllish, is a serval, though the English translation of the book is always "The Leopard". The serval is the symbol of the family crest.

Without going into the details of the story, it's about the end of an era- particularly the era of the Salina family. There are 8 sections of the book. The first six are set around 1860, the seventh in 1883 when the Prince dies, and the final in 1910, when the princes three daughters are old women.

The oldest daughter had kept an old skin of the Prince's faithful dog, Bendico. But as everything she held true crumbles about her, she has the skin thrown out. During its flight to the trash pile, it momentarily takes the form of the prancing serval of the Salina family crest before it falls limply on the trash pile.

This perhaps symbolizes the briefness of life. Here was the aristocratic line, momentarily taking its place, and then fallen aside and forgotten.

Tomasi di Lampedusa himself had said that the dog Bendico was the most symbolic character of the book.

There is also an interesting passage where the Prince is offered a political position in the new Italian government, but refuses saying Sicilians will not be changed. His essential reason is that, given how many cultures have fought over Sicily, Sicilians have come to believe themselves perfect already, so why would they accept government from outside?

Fascism 2-3: The Total Society- HR Morgan

I don't know what the first volume is. Everything I've found of this author starts from 2 and 3. But anyway, HR Morgan describes himself as a national syndicalist, which, I know from reading about the history of fascism, was the French philosophy that grew into fascism. He is clearly writing as one who is sympathetic to the system.

Fascism starts with some of the same assumptions about human nature that Marx had: human nature can be changed, and that humans find meaning in life through political participation. Marx focused on class consciousness. There was a German branch that focused on race consciousness (National Socialists, or Nazis), and the Fascists focused on national consciousness.

While the Nazis were genuinely racists, there is nothing in fascism that requires it. The main ingredient here is a nation-first focus that looks to modernize and build up the nation. That sounds reasonable enough. The problem with all collectivist mentalities is that individuals' freedoms are always curtailed when one party thinks that the best thing for everyone is when everyone thinks like me. Fascists bang on about how fascism is an expression of the will of the people. Well what happens when the actual people don't want to go along with the program? History tells us that they get branded as "enemies of the people" and life gets very difficult for them.

I might give people in the early 20th century a pass on such stupidity and chalk it up to just being ignorant. But by now we've seen the results of totalitarian movements such as communism and fascism and nazism. There is no excuse for people today believing these are legitimate responses to problems.

Quo Vadis- Henryk Sienkiewicz (1896)

"Why does crime, even as powerful as Caesar, and assured of being beyond punishment, strive always for the appearance of truth, justice, and virtue? What a marvelous homage paid to virtue by evil."

This is a historical novel set in Rome during Nero's reign. A young patrician falls in love with a Christian girl, but doesn't understand her religion. He comes to learn about Christianity through his love for her and commits himself to Christ under Paul's teaching and Peter's influence. When Caesar has Rome burned and the people threaten him, he has the Christians blamed and the maiden is taken as part of the multitude to be sacrificed.

The novel is really about the growth of Christianity and it's supplanting of the Roman empire. The differences in outlooks are stressed and really, the superiority of Christianity as a worldview.

The Red Badge of Courage- Stephen Crane (1895)

The story concerns 'the youth', a young man whose name we come to find out is Henry Fleming, who enlists to fight in the civil war with the union. As he waits for battle, he considers whether he will have the stomach to stay in the fight. And when the time comes, he does run. He tries a series of arguments to justify himself, but he is haunted that he failed in his test of manhood. He meets some other soldiers who are wounded and travels with them briefly, but when he is asked about his own wounds, he leaves.

He realizes he too needs a wound, a "red badge of courage".

As he moves on, he finds himself in the middle of another battle. As he tries to find out what is going on by detaining a soldier, the soldier hits him in the head with the butt of his gun and leaves him bleeding.

He is then taken for one who was wounded in battle.

After this, he actually does join battles and acts heroically.

All the while, he sees war for what it is and is sickened. But he also knows that he has stood the test and can stand proudly.

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sanitydestroyer · 2 years ago

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My Top Posts in 2022:

Blutengel time?

Blutengel time!

2 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

It just occurred to me that I haven't heard anybody talk about the term "the battle of the sexes" for quite some time.

Naturally that means I'm going to do it right now.

I heard the term quite a lot when I was growing up in the 1990s, then people seemed to stop using it when the 2000s hit.

Which is a good thing. What a stupid term.

I don't know about anybody else, but for me, "the battle of the sexes" conjures up an almost quaint little mental image, nothing too serious, like "this is a relatively trivial fight on a level playing field".

Which is perfectly fine when the context is in fact trivial, for example, light-heartedly referring to female and male celebrity chefs engaging in a cooking competition as "the battle of the sexes". Heck, tennis has had several popular matches over the years referred to as "the battle of the sexes".

Scenarios such as those never particularly bothered me growing up, nor do they particularly bother me now thinking back.

What bothered me were the people who would sigh and moan about "the battle of the sexes" any time feminists would try to have an even semi-serious discussion about women's oppression/liberation.

That is not "the battle of the sexes". That is "the male conquest of the female consciousness". Probably looks like a trivial fight-turned-"epic battle" started by the oppressed class if you are the oppressor class though.

2 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Radfem ask meme: 👶

Any passenger under two years old should be in cargo.

2 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

I have my problems with some of the things that Angelina Jolie has done and said, but nothing justifies Brad Pitt's behaviour, and I'm tired of people who act like abuse isn't as bad when it happens to somebody they don't like.

I've no idea where to start with this comment:

"It's incredibly sad that she continues to rehash, revise and reimagine her description of an event that happened 6 years ago, adding in completely untrue information to try to get additional attention for herself at the expense of their family. She had the opportunity to share information with law enforcement who made the decision not to press charges. She had the chance to share this during the lengthy custody trial, which resulted in the judge granting 50-50 custody to Pitt. She has resorted to trying to keep rehashing the same thing. Going back to the same thing month after month with new and still false information for purposes that only she can understand."

Maybe she keeps "going back to the same thing" because of some of the things you just said right here. Maybe she was reluctant to share this during the custody trial because she thought she would face backlash and he would be granted 50-50 custody anyway, and she has not been able to stop worrying about the fact that those children are spending time with an abuser. Maybe she has had a bad experience with the police that needs talking about because institutional sexism and anti-female bias are deep-rooted problems that are frequently overlooked but need addressing.

13 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I started this hotchpotch blog less than a fortnight ago, mostly reblog and have very little original content, and have next to no followers, but still:

Might as well do this, because why not?

13 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #not surprising given the blog was new

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evestub · 2 years ago

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The Secret I kept

TW: attempted sa, drinking, violence, cussing

Second Person, You POV

You sat on the edge of your bed, forearms resting on knees, and head hanging down in shame. It was eating you from the inside out. Whether it be from the guilt of lying to your friends, the person you love; or simply the fact that you pretend to be an entirely different person, the consequences of your actions were catching up quickly. The 1700’s was cruel to women, and newly disowned, the army seemed like the perfect place to erase the past and safeguard the future. What you didn’t realize would happen is you falling in love. Alexander was his name. He was smarter than a scholar, and had unmatched energy and determination. He was the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. Which is where the problems started. Alexander was friends with military you. The man who appeared weak but was a fast runner. A perfect shot, charming spirit and love for hunting. The other you was a well mannered woman from a middle class family with a passion for literature and the arts, something which your family hate. But the true you was neither of those. Just you. You hoped that Alex would love all of you, whether it be militia man, literate woman or simply a person just trying to enjoy life and the little things. But it was the gender that could cause a riff. Although you never thought to ask, you didn’t know Alexander’s preferred gender, and pretending to be a man when you really weren’t destroyed you. And even though you pretended to it wasn’t there, you and every one of your friends saw how Alexander looked at you, and vice versa. It was never spoken, but the love was their, and you were quite aware of it as well. And it made you feel like shit. And it would destroy him too, if he knew. You knew the truth would be seen as a betrayal to him. Alexander loved a man. And you were not one.

“I thought I’d find you in here,” a voice rang behind you, startling the peace. Hercules was truly the best person you could ask for, after a careless incident, he discovered your truth. He knew everything, who you are and your dilemma with Alexander. And while he never pushed, your constant lies was something he would remind you that the longer it stays in, the worse it’ll get. “He’s acting like a lost puppy without you giving him attention.”

“I think I’ll tell Alexander after the war. Right now,” you paused. Thinking of it was hard, yet talking of it was harder. “Right now just isn’t right.” Hercules gave you a look that chipped even further at your consciousness…

Third Person, Alexanders POV

Alexander felt disgusted with himself. He was a dirty, disgusting, no good son of a whore, and it was his fault. His smile, that pushed his cheeks back in just the right way, teeth slightly showing and lips that were so perfect, even when they were chapped. His eyes, which were deep with swirling colours, that never seemed to be focused on anything that trapped Alexander deeply. His body, personality, hair, attitude, everything made Alexander light up in a million ways, and it disgusted him. It was wrong. It was immoral, unholy, wrong, stupid and absolutely fucking disgusting. He tried to distance himself at first, but he couldn’t stand that look on his face when Alexander gave a half-asses reply or a look of avoidance. It hurt Alexander too much. So he made the mistake of getting too close. Everything he did, Alexander did, if he wasn’t busy with work for General Washington. Every meal, training session, down time and even a tent, them two of them shared. Last winter was so cold, Alexander had to snuggle with him to keep the pair warm. It almost made the wretched winds and bitter cold worth it. Another time at the bar the pair got so piss drunk, they ended up in a back ally. He always claimed that he blacked out, but Alexander remembered the taste of his lips, the feeling of his tongue, his arms so muscular and scarred and his gorgeous hair. After that, Alexander had begun the compliment phase, where Alex praised everything he did. Every perfect shot, every letter, everything he did was perfect. And every time, the other male would shrug it off or reciprocate the compliment in an extremely watered down way that made Alexander feel like shit. It wasn’t that the other didn’t like Alexander, the exact opposite really. But his fear of Alexander knowing the truth caused him to become distant. And it only made the two hate themselves more than they already did. Alexander tried so hard to like other woman. And he did like women. He’s had girlfriends before, and courted whore on drunk occasions. But he never liked someone how liked him. Nothing would ever compare to him. And it was disgusting.

Timeskip and Pov switch to 3rd Person

The last battle left a toll on everyone. Some chose to wallow, and others took it to the bar to drink their traumas away. Alexander and his friends chose the latter. Six beers deep each, the room was swirling and the emotions were happy. Not one of the five were thinking straight, and Lafayette had resorted to his native language. Alexander was twenty minutes deep into a rant, John was dancing with some women in fancy clothes, and Hercules was piss drunk and passed out. Which left last member, deep in drunk regret and wallow. Her thoughts were swirled and confused, room loud, head pounding and a yearning for someone she knew would hate the true him, technically her. She truly hated herself. She was a snake, a liar, a whore, and a disgusting disgrace who deserved to be disowned. And suddenly, an actual whore, who was beautiful and covered in makeup, rans her hands up her back. As this woman rubbed her hands along her spine, each of the other members of the party turned eyes. While two of them found this comedic and exciting, drunk Alexander felt a seething rage deep within him. Alexander met eyes with her, who seemed to be a drunk and confused wreck. Too many things were happening at once, and before she knew it, John had pushed her and the whore to the stairs. She stopped in her tracks to meet eyes with Alexander, as if to ask for permission. Deep down she knew this was a bad idea, yet she didn’t have the sobriety to deny the woman’s service. Their eye contact was quickly broken, as she was dragged away, and Alexander looking at the ground in shame.

She found herself making her way up the crooked and narrow stairs, whether they were actually crooked was dependent on how much alcohol she consumed. The woman led her into a room, that had a simple bed, table and dresser. This usual courting room scene. Why was she here? What was going on? These thoughts consumed her head as she was laid down on a bed, head and shoulders propped up by pillows. This woman, whom she had no idea was, straddled her and began to kiss her neck.

“Oh poor honey, you’re so wasted. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll be gentle.” The only thing she could do was just, close her eyes. Arms by here side and her head tilted away from the scene, in a half drunk half uncomfortable way. In the darkness of her eyelids, she saw Alex. His smile, his beautiful brown eyes. She like the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was focused. She liked how he never gave up. And in all drunkness, she began to imagine that this was Alexander on her. Doings these things to her. She’d stay up late at night imagining a life with Alexander. They’d have a good life, he’d work in congress and she’d write poetry and books. They would split the chores, and he would

make the best food. He always talked about the food they ate back in the country where he was born. And so, here she was, drunk and about to be fucked, thinking of Alex.

“Eyes on me honey,” the woman said was she grabbed her chin to face the woman. The woman used her thumb to lightly rub her face before giving a wet peck on the lips. “You have such a cute face honey, but you must be so hot. Poor baby… let’s take this off you,” The soldier seemed to not quite understand what was happening, and as she started to the ceiling, the woman began to fumble with the buttons of her dirty military issued white shirt. It wasn’t until the third button came undone that the situation finally clicked. Eyes flew open as she looked at what was about to be revealed. Panic raced through her body, and she begun to fight with the woman, trying to push her off.

“Stop it please. Please get off I don’t want it,” the soldier slurred. And although she was extremely uncomfortable with what was happening to her, she was more focused on her shirt. This shirt cannot come off her. If the woman saw the chest bindings, it would all be over. The woman was stubborn, to fucking stubborn, and tried hard to stay on. She didn’t realize her strength, and in a last attempt to protect her secret, she aggressively pushed the woman off the bed, and in so, knocking her out as her head hit the frame. She felt regret for harming the woman, but that would be an issue sober her would deal with. The buttons of her shirt were completely undone, but with no one here to see, she begun the gruelling process to trying to rebutton her shirt, something sober her could finish in seconds. Finally finishing the task, she sighed in relief. Close. Too close. But she had accidentally knocked the harlot out, so her secret was safe. Opening the wooden door with a rusty handle, she stepped outside of the room, only to be greeted with her tall friends, John and Lafayette. They had this look on her face, and she prayed, oh she prayed that they weren’t watching.

“Mon ami, why didn’t you tell us, you know we wouldn’t have cared,” Lafayette said. Still drunk but quickly sobered by the situation. They knew. The world stopped for the female soldier, a pit of rocks filling her stomach and finding herself unable to swallow. But in this moment of absolute dread, something was missing, or someone. Hercules was passed out, and the two were in-front of her so… what was missing.

Alexander.

“Did. Did he see me?” No one needed to speak. Their faces said it all. He saw. The girl pushed past the pair and rushed down the stairs. The room was swirling and her anxiety was severely amplified. Everyone seemed the same, she felt so suffocated, so scared. But she knew Alex. She could recognize him from any crowd. And there he was, leaving the through back door. It was hard to push through the equally drunk crowd, and she could feel tears forming in her eyes. Once she finally made it to the back door, Alexander was already paces ahead of her. She ran, tripped and fell, and got back onto her feet again. She couldn’t lose him. Figuratively and literally. When she finally caught up, she called out to Alexander, who stopped but couldn’t turn around.

“Alexander. I’m. God I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you and,” she was quickly cut off by him, as he looked at her in a way she’d never seen before.

“You lied to me. You fucking lied. I have hated myself this whole time, and you were lying? I cannot. Fucking. Believe you.”

“Alex,”

“No. Don’t you fucking start. Do you know what it’s like? To like someone the whole world tells you is wrong. Do you know what that’s like? I thought I was a disgusting freak for liking a man, but in the end you were just lying. To me, to everyone. I have hated myself for the past year all at your expense.” She reached out to try and touch his arm, to try and comfort him. She knew her words wouldn’t do shit, especially when they were both still drunk. “No. Don’t fucking TOUCH ME.” Alexander slapped her mid sentence, which resulted in her falling to the ground. His blind rage was replaced with instant regret, as he hurt the one thing he loved. His hand slightly tingling as he, now she, held her face in pure shock. Tears fell from his eyes as the girl infront of him began to sob, begging Alexander to stay. But he couldn’t. He knew that if he stayed he would hurt her more. So he turned his back and began to walk

“Alexander, come back! Please come back. I’m sorry. I need you, please,” she sobbed as her voice faded into despair and he just faded into the night…

#alexander hamilton #john laurens #hamilton musical #alexander hamilton x reader #lafayatte #hercules mulligan #slight nudity #drinking #cw cussing #con noncon #pining #hurt/no comfort

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lavenderfeminist · 2 years ago

Note

““Fucking men is unsafe” isn’t hatred and even if it was we’re entitled to hate our oppressors :)”

Are you against interracial relationships then? Do you warn black people not to fuck their oppressors by dating white people?

Honestly lesbians on here love to pretend that they are politely trying to help straight women and the straight women are flipping out and accusing them of heterophobia or some shit. What’s really happening most of the time is the lesbians are smugly, CONSTANTLY pointing out how you are taking your life in your hands or whatever by fucking the only people who you are sexually attracted to and that it’s stupid and dangerous to fuck men, and het women are getting tired of it and telling y’all to get your noses out of their business.

Imagine if, in response to a lesbian complaining about societal homophobia, some straight person said “well, you could always just NOT date the same sex and stay single, if you don’t want to be discriminated against. You could always just not express affection with your partner in public if you don’t want to the harassed.” “It’s safer not to date the same sex” is the exact same as “it’s safer not to date men” and I know you’ll argue they are different but fundamentally they are not. Where the “consequences” are coming from is different but the sentiment is not, the message is not (in that they are both useless and stupid things to say).

A huge amount of you will also pretend the “straight women are idiot cocksuckers and are complicit in their own abuse if they choose to date men” either doesn’t go on or is hugely exaggerated. It’s not. I see it constantly. And when it’s not that blunt (which it often is), it’s false concern and patronising chastisement about how you should’ve known what you were in for, subtle victim blaming shit.

Let me let you in on a secret: straight women KNOW what men are like. In fact, they know FAR better than lesbians do what men are like. Obviously. Maybe if you don’t want them butting in on lesbian discourse and talking about how lesbians should conduct their relationships you should stop pretending they are too stupid to realise that not dating men is an option. “Oh well I’m just letting them know they don’t have to” Jesus Christ. They KNOW! Lots of straight women are voluntarily single.

(And if it helps, I’m a lesbian. So don’t go accusing me of believing in heterophobia or whatever. I KNOW you won’t believe that because god forbid a lesbian rolls her eyes at this shit and goes against the current stupid take but there you go. It’s almost like I actually have empathy for my fellow women regardless of their sexuality, and this tribal shit is stupid and ruining women’s chance to have class consciousness.)

I’m white, so no, I don’t go telling POC in this country who they should date because that’s not my place. That’s a stupid comparison to make given that lesbians (and other straight or bi women) pointing out that dating men can be dangerous are a minority, and also given that in this situation it is a marginalized minority (lesbians) pointing this out to the majority (osa women), not the majority oppressor (white people) telling Black people not to date them. A closer equivalent would be men telling women not to date them, and even then the metrics are off. I don’t know what your race is but if you’re white, it is time to stop making comparisons to race. If your argument can stand on its own, you don’t need to make it analogous to another very serious issue and erase the nuance of BOTH concerns in the process.

I love this. I think it’s so funny. You saw me post a lesbophobic comment with no context and make a snarky remark in response and it made you SO upset you felt the need to send me paragraphs on paragraphs? Give me a break. If you follow me, you’ll notice I DON’T make a habit of crafting extensive arguments as to why osa women shouldn’t date men, because I am highly aware that the resources are out there for them to be informed and to make decisions based on that information and their personal experiences. There are plenty of osa women who can write about their relationships with men in a way that’s more compelling for women like them than I can, for obvious reasons. What I DO make a habit of is responding to homophobia, because that DOES concern me personally, and if a het woman’s response to a *bisexual woman’s* post about not condescending to osa women is to talk about how sad it is that lesbians “hate” hets, she reveals then and there that she’s a lesbophobe, and I WILL point that out. Genuinely get a grip. Go outside and realize that even if every lesbian on the planet was BEYOND “heterophobic”, they could stomp us out like ants if they wanted to. I think it’s profoundly gross and demeaning and nasty to refer to any woman with sexually degrading language and I would never do that, which is why you’ll…never find that on my page. Coming on here to write paragraphs and condescend to ME about shit *I* already know is SO. HILARIOUSLY. IRONIC. given the topic at hand. Grow a brain and have enough self respect to think maybe other lesbians are also smart enough to notice the exact same things you do, and sometimes they’re STILL going to tell you a het woman being lesbophobic over so much as the mention of mean lesbians is stupid, homophobic, and humiliatingly online.

#asks

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bi-dazai · 4 years ago

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okay while we're on the subject of eating healthy and exercising, I want to vent/talk about weight loss. This is gonna be a rly controversial, very personal and extremely long post but I do want to make a point. I'm not going to discuss every fucking nuance of haes or my EDs. But for clarity, know that my eds are complicated and were mostly osfeds - minor anorexia osfed in high school and bed osfed when I was 18-19. after i realised how fat i was the minor anorexia came back and over the pandemic it became full scale anorexia nervosa.

I'm 5'3. The healthy weight range I should be in is in the high 40s-low 50s. I went up to TWICE that by the time I was just nineteen years old. It wasn't fun being fat. I consumed as much fat acceptance, fat activism content as I could, I pretended I was confident and happy even when I was fat. But I wasn't. Because people don't just get obese accidentally. A little overweight, yes. But obese? No. You get obese from depression, from giving up. You don't want to move so you don't. You're sad all the time, and the body positivity circles say eat comfort food, whatever and as much as it makes you feel better!! Do you know what that is? That's encouragement of BED. Do not say that. Because I did that. I ate sugar and junk food, I was still depressed.

I was reading these posts that were claiming fat people shouldn't be weighed at the doctor, that your weight shouldn't count, that BMI is incorrect and doesn't matter, etc etc. There were posts saying that they got "perfect bloodwork" (what even is that? I knew that was wrong, I've had chronic iron deficiency for a decade!) even though they were fat, so they had to be healthy, right? I got shown pictures of obese ballerinas and obese weightlifters blah blah blah. And I grew and grew, and I got to almost 85kg on the fast track to 100kg before reality smacked me in the face and I realised I was shortening my lifespan by decades.

Here's what it was like being obese!

- joint pain, constantly

- could barely walk anywhere without feeling out of breath

- couldn't find any fashionable, good quality clothes (plus size stores either carry unfashionable clothing, or fashionable but cheap quality clothing. I don't like to waste money on cheap clothes)

- more acne than I'd had in years

- oily skin

- more difficulty feeling "full"

- JOINT FUCKING PAIN

- rashes from skin rubbing against skin!

- even larger chest, making me MORE dysphoric

- back pain!!

- snoring - this is not just embarrassing. This is potentially deadly.

- DYSPHORIA

- KNEES. JOINT PAIN.

- DYSPHORIA

this was just things I felt physically, noticeably! The things that my fat was doing on the inside was even worse. Fat isn't just this layer of packing peanuts that appears on top of you. It coats your organs. It gets everywhere. It makes your entire body run worse.

Fat also makes it much more likely for you to not just GET cancer, but it it also makes it harder to FIGHT cancer. Being obese makes almost every single goddamn sickness on the planet worse because when you have THAT MUCH fat tissue the hormones and shit it secretes fucks EVERYTHING up.

Yes there are obese bodybuilders. Yes there are obese ballerinas. Let's talk about those two.

There are plenty of drs and dieticians who have pointed out the obvious - if an obese person was really, actually eating healthily and exercising every day, they would not stay obese forever. Its not magic, it's thermodynamics. CICO done right works for everyone. If you are eating healthy, appropriate portions for weight loss at your TDEE and exercising it would literally be IMPOSSIBLE for you not to lose weight!! Even more the heavier you are because when you exercise you carry around a lot more weight.

Obese weightlifters are still obese. They are not proof you can be obese and healthy. They are still going to die younger if they do not lose weight.

Let's talk about fat ballerinas. The only ones I've seen are trainee ballerinas, not professional ones. And their performance looks impressive at first, until you look closer. You notice their balance is never quite perfect, their control can be amazing and the best ever but they'll still be off. Why? Because fat moves around with your movement, and it displaces your balance and your line of movement. It's simply not possible to do something like ballet dancing as a fat person without risking major injury as well. En pointe is already stupid dangerous for the skinniest ballerina. Going en pointe at anything above 60kg is going to get progressively suckier the heavier you go. And god help your ankles because falling down will always end in a major injury.

I'm so fucking done with "fat acceptance". I'm tired of "body positivity" being a movement about obese middle-upper class white women and not about scars and disabilities etc like it was focused on in the start. I have no problems with Health at Every Size - every person should feel happy to workout, to eat healthy. I have no problem raising issue with people bullying others for their weight as well. That's wrong. But pretending that it's Healthy at Every Size is a fucking lie, and it's one that could've sentenced me to an early death. Healthy at Every Size said I was condemned to joint pain and oily skin and depression and exhaustion for the rest of my life based on cherrypicked sentences from studies that didn't agree with them. That "95% of diets fail" sentence in particular drives me up the wall. You don't need a diet to lose weight, you need healthy CICO, you need to eat below your TDEE, you need to eat healthy, and you need to exercise. All you have to do at first is go on a 10-20 minute walk, whatever pace you like, a few times a week.

You can BE fit, you CAN lose weight! You are not sentenced to having joint pain and an increased risk for cancer and a less effective COVID vaccine for life. You can change your body in incredibly ways. You have no idea what you are capable of.

There's this myth that weight loss takes keto and shakes and diet pills and crash diets etc. It doesn't. All it is is making sure you eat less than your TDEE, eating HEALTHY calories, and getting your heartrate up by exercising at least 175 minutes a week.

The human body is not meant to be obese. There's no such thing as a set point weight. There's CICO, there's nutrition, there's making sure your muscles dont atrophy. Weight loss and fitness isn't some magic thing that youre just born able to do. I was lazy throughout my entire teens. I thought fitness was something the popular girls did. It's not. It's for everyone. and everyone, especially in places with an obesity epidemic such as the US, UK, and Australia, should make use of it. It's a good thing. Walking is one of the best things you can do for your body, and it's incredibly rewarding in every way. Eating healthy and not eating until you feel like you're going to burst is rewarding in every way. And it's not like you can't ever have junk food again, you just have to limit it to a treat, a once or twice per week thing. And honestly, it makes it much more enjoyable that way.

Now I want to talk a little about my anorexia. My weight loss journey came to anorexia. This is because it was an eating disorder I'd had for a long time. I did not see a trainer or dietician, and I consciously decided to push myself too far. I consciously decide to eat less and exercise more when I am starving. This is not something that just happens because someone is eating at 1200cals. It happens because you have an eating disorder which you are born with. Saying people who eat 1200cals of healthy food a day and exercise right are "anorexic" is so fucking insulting to everyone involved. It's ableist and ignorant. 1200cals is also a pretty generous amount for anorexic ppl to eat. That's close to a binge in ED standards, so that should give you a reference for how offbase saying 1200cals is "anorexic" is.

My anorexia is healthy habits pushed into eating disorder territory. I eat healthy, yes, but I don't eat enough. I exercise, yes, but I often push myself too far when I'm already lacking energy. The advice I give people for health is correct, and I'm never going to go around saying "eat less than 1200cals" as weightloss advice. Eat less, sure, but there's a limit. Calorie counting is a good thing to do, tracking your macros and nutrients is good. But I do it too much.

I know what's healthy, a lot of ppl with restrictive and purgative EDs do. People with EDs can give some awesome health advice, we just can't follow it because we have a mental disorder. Believe it or not people with EDs discussing their EDs are not "pro-ana", pointing out that anorexia and people with anorexia are real and not some boogeyman you use to justify not losing weight and eating healthy is not pro-ana. Anorexia existing is not pro-ana and anorexics being anorexic has nothing to do with fatphobia.

this post is a rambling mess but i rly had to get some stuff clear on how I feel abt this stuff because it's getting concerning how much unhealthy shit, and then straight up ableist shit, that the fat acceptance crowd spews out.

A little exercise won't kill you, eating healthy won't kill you. You are not sentenced to ugly plus size fashion and joint pain and being out of breath for the rest of your life. Leave the Healthy at Every Size death cult and join the Health at Every Size movement. Let the doctor take your weight (it IS medically necessary). acknowledge that you are obese and it is affecting your health. It's scary but it can be the start of a new, healthy beginning. It was for me.

Losing 15kg has been the best thing in my life. Sure, the anorexia is there enjoying it for one reason. But the reason I truly enjoy it is because I've discovered what a healthier body feels like. I've discovered the joys of exercise, I've discovered the joys of eating healthy. I can fit nice clothes now. And I'm still overweight! I'm 66kg, that's 4kg away from the barest minimum acceptable healthy bmi. But I feel so so much better. I look better. I have a jawline! Good skin! Energy! It didn't fix me but it sure made me a hell of a lot better.

Please please try and eat healthy, eat an appropriate amount, go for walks. It's so so good, and if you do it right you WILL lose weight. You'll live past 50. You'll get to explore the world in a way you couldn't when going up stairs had you out of breath. You'll fit into that nice skirt you've been looking at. Your skin will clear up. You'll have energy and your mental health will improve.

It's so so fucking worth it to put effort into your health, like I cannot emphasise this enough. Please do it, I wish I could tell myself this when I was binging on junk because the FA crowd told me it was valid to comfort eat until I hurt.

#long post #this is mostly a vent but yeah #basically my decision is that im not touching any fat activism fatphobia etc with a ten foot pole #esp on this blog except to discuss my personal experience with it ie this post #personal #ok to rb #sorry for not putting it under a readmore im on mobile

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gallivantingheart · 4 years ago

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Me, a Princess? Shut Up!

masterlist | next

⏮️ chapter 1: no way ⏭️

who?: jihoon/woozi x (f)reader

word count: 2195

genre/s: fluff, humour

warnings: none

synopsis: Life’s pretty good for y/n. Easy, even. Until someone claiming to be her grandmother says she is the queen of a small island country - and y/n, a princess.

a/n: thanks for your patience everyone!

**please ignore the timestamps - they are not accurate**

The doorbell rings with the stupid song your dad picked and you flinch, jostling your coffee. Too early for any of that kind of noise. Still, you look at your mother, brow quirked. “You weren’t expecting anyone, were you?” She shakes her head. “Mingyu wasn’t picking you up?” You don’t have a class with him today. The doorbell switches to knocking, becoming a touch more firm and impatient. Your mum turns the corner to the short hallway. Her voice is muffled and stilted, making you shrink with your hot drink in hand. Obviously not a warm welcome. When she gets around the corner, you’re shocked when two others follow. A chic elderly woman and a tall man you swear shouldn’t have been able to fit in the doorway. The pastel dress blazer alone makes you feel underdressed in your own house. There is a sharp glint to your mother’s eyes that you don’t like as she glances at them.

“It would have been better if you called beforehand. We would have made a bit more time.” There is a downward turn to her lips as she says it over her shoulder, rounding the kitchen counter to return to her tea. “I know you, dear. I would never have seen you, had you been notified of my arrival.” The elderly woman says. You stand silently, watching the strained conversation pass back and forth. You note that the woman has the same eyes as your mother and that the man dressed in black hasn’t left the entry to the hallway. Your mum pulls out two more mugs, one plain with strict edges, the other quite stout yet sophisticated. “Please, sit. Do you want anything to drink? Tea, coffee?” “Tea. One sugar.” You gape as she pours one coffee, black into the taller mug, pushing it across the bench to the man. He takes it with a nod. The elderly woman sitting at your dining table eyes you heavily, squinting and scanning your half-asleep frame. It makes your shoulders crawl as you look away. You’re a bit confused as to the small talk; it was something your mother hated. Why is she suddenly letting this woman in and indulging her every whim? Your phone vibrates over the bench - Minghao. You’re going to be late for class if you keep at this any longer.

You turn to sneak to the back of the house to get ready, ignoring the fact you hadn’t even been introduced. Frankly, you’re pretty sure you have been forgotten. “Ah-ah. Not so fast. Come here.” You screw your nose up at your mother’s tone. Turning, you seat yourself next to her tentatively,. She sighs. “Y/n, this is your grandmother. My mother.” You have to consciously keep your teeth together so your jaw doesn’t drop. No one talked about your mother’s side of the family. Your dad avoided it on a weak presumption of ignorance. You could see why now. The pastel woman holds her thin hand out across the table. “Y/n, my name is Park Soonhee. A pleasure to meet you.” Her tone of voice booked no argument and you shake her hand firmly despite your trepidation. It’s cold, but not clammy. You’re still too busy watching Soonhee and your mum exchange looks, whole conversations filled between them. Soonhee nods with the breath of a smile, relaxing back to her place. She folds her hands neatly in her lap, her tea untouched despite accepting the offer. The lavender blazer and skirt are still off-putting and you note she has some kind of gold coat of arms pinned to her chest. “Firm handshake. Very good.”

She turns to look between your mother and yourself. “I’m glad you’re both here. This is a discussion for the women of our family.” You hate how dismissive Soonhee is of the tension she creates with every word. The aura around your mother is tensing, stretching to the point of snap. Your mother’s agitation always sets you off as well, far more than you’d like. The more she speaks, the more the questions grow. Soonhee speaks as if you’re already halfway through the conversation. “Mother, what is it?” Your mum sighs. “Younghee, I am asking for you to take your rightful place as queen of our country. As of now, I am a widowed queen with no official heir. You are first in line. You cannot turn your back on your people.”

Snap. You mother pushes up, grabbing her tea and chucking it down the drain. Once she rinses her cup, it clatters into the sink loudly. When she looks back, you swear you can see a fire in her eyes. It distracts from the fact that Soonhee, your grandmother, is saying she and your mother are royalty. “We talked about this years ago. Many times. When I married Sunghoon. When Y/N was born. When my son was born. Every time I have said no. Why do you think it would be any different now? It’s been over twenty-five years. Enough.” She snarls. With fury like that, you expect the man in the entry to make a move. No such action happens, so it seems he doesn’t consider her a threat. A mistake on his part, you think - you’ve seen how violently she can cut carrots for dinner when she’s angry. “Younghee. Our family is a long and proud line of leaders, the backbone and foundation to our country’s existence. Every law and system is in part due to our hand. If you reject this, it may jeopardise the entirety of Amaide’s monarchy and result in the deterioration of the country itself.” Soonhee finally raises her voice and it feels like it should threaten more than it does. “Well, I guess you should have thought about that before coming into my home and expecting your sort of answer.” Your mother is taut in the way she stands, her anger showing her age like no other emotion does. She doesn’t even properly face the queen when she speaks. You have to break the tension - there’s too much going on not to.

“Uh, what are we talking about, exactly? I’m hearing royalty? Mum, we’re not royalty. I can’t even do my hair properly on the best of days.” You murmur. Soonhee spins on you, aghast. “Younghee. Do they not know?” Even the guard looks uncomfortable now, subtly pushing his coffee back to the bench and checking behind him to the front of the house. You hear the heavy sigh from the kitchen, the under breath whispering that your mother does when she’s stressed. Carefully, she sits on your edge of the sofa, sandwiching you between the two women. “You heard right. Soonhee is the Queen of Amaide. That makes me a princess.” She says, eyes steady on you. You gape and splutter, pointing slowly between them. “You, a princess, mum? No way.” She nods, eerily calm. “It’s true. My full name and title are Princess Younghee Park, Heir to Amaide. I passed this title on years ago though, when I met your father. Therefore, the title falls to the next blood heir.” Your mind whirls. You knew your uncle had no children or a partner of any sort, resulting in many a summer spoiled rotten in ways you never fully understood. Your mum has no other siblings other than him. You were the eldest. Which meant … “No. No way. No way! I’m not -” Soonhee nods for you. “Yes. Technically you are. Princess Y/N Y/L/N, of Amaide.”

You stand up. “No, I don’t understand. What about dad? How much - where - what?” “Baby, your father hasn’t done anything. He knows about all of this but I made these choices. When I met your father here and married him, I was supposed to go back to Amaide and take my place as queen. Instead, I chose to step down and abdicate to live a normal life - to give you a normal life. For your father and the rest of our family. But, some people just don’t take no for an answer.” She glares at the queen. “Were you ever going to tell us?” You say in a breath. She shrugs. “One day. When it wouldn’t be a problem anymore. But, I would never lie to you if you found out on your own.” She had a point. It was never lied about, just never discussed. Soonhee looks quite disgruntled at the whole situation but you can’t find yourself to be sympathetic, what with the way she barged in.

You stand and shake your head at the crumpled expression turning your mother’s lips. “So, uh, we’re royalty. R-right. This is a lot to take in. I have, um, class. Can we talk about this more when I get home?” Mum smiles and nods. “Sure, baby. Be quick.” It’s a fumbled rush down the hall and through your room to get your bag and your jeans on, not catch your toes in the knee rip. When you get out, the conversation has turned to a murmur, which doesn’t settle you any less. “‘Kay, going!”

“What about Y/N?” Soonhee says suddenly, louder than expected. You still and swallow a sigh. You thought you got out of this conversation for the time being. “What about me?” “Y/N, just because your mother has passed the crown on, doesn’t mean you have to. You could be the queen.” Soonhee says with a trace of smugness settled into her spine on your bowing sofa. Your mum jumps in, waving her hands and all. “Uh-uh. Not so fast, Soonhee. Didn’t you hear her? We would talk about this later. You can’t just spring something like that on us when she’s just found out.” “Which wouldn’t have been an issue, had you told her in the first place. She deserves the right to know about her heritage.” You shift on your feet, socks balled up in a hand as you watch the conversational tennis continue to play out. As usual, you’re on the fence.

“I-I don’t know. Mum’s right. I only just found out about this and I don’t understand any of what’s going on.” You mumble. “Princess Lessons!” Soonhee cries out, reminiscent of a mad scientist - just as persistent as one, too. “I shall be in the country for the next two months for political engagements. Plenty of time to learn about Amaide’s rich history and our family. Give her a taste of the life she was born for. And if all goes well, announce her out to polite society at the Independence Gala.” You hold your socks out to pause the situation. “Okay, hold on. Hold on. To be clear: I do get a choice in all of this, yes?” “Yes, of course. Take the lessons and then make your decision at the Gala whether or not to accept the crown.” Your mother steps up, curling around your side. “Baby, I do agree that I want you to know who your family is, now that you know. But you’re being given the one thing I never had, that I had to take - a choice. You get to decide your future.”

You watch the elderly woman, haughty and still. Something felt too simple. Too easy. “But, of course, no one can know. As of this moment, your existence is a classified, government secret. If the press heard about this-” Your mum gasps, rolling her eyes. “God no. If anybody got wind of this I can’t imagine the mess it would make for all of us. I don’t want the rest of the family going through that, after all the efforts made to keep a sense of normality.” “Oh, but it’s alright if I do.” You grumble, mimicking your mother’s actions. The fire sparks back in your mother’s eyes, stifling you. You nod and mime zipping your mouth with a sigh. “Good. Don’t you have class?” You shrug. “Yeah, I’m gonna be late though.” Soonhee waves over the man still hovering in the entryway. “Junwoo, can you get the car ready? Y/N has class.”

The great hulking man has kind honey brown eyes as he frowns at the queen. His coffee is long gone and you wonder if he’s sweating underneath all that thick black uniform. Honestly, he seems too cool for that inconvenience. “Your Majesty?” His voice rumbles carefully. “Oh, I’ll be here. We still have matters to discuss. Y/N, this is Junwoo, head of my guard and driver. Let him know where your school is.” You nod and wave them off, leaning in to the kiss your mother plants on your cheek. Junwoo walks with a scary amount of grace through your house, waiting at the door while you put your socks on at the step and wriggle on your shoes. You turn the corner out from the walking lane to the street, your jaw hitting the sidewalk at the sight of the small convoy of limousines lining the road. “A-are we taking all of these?” You rasp. Junwoo slides on his shades and shakes his head with a smile. “No, just the first one. We’ll be there before you know it.”

TAGLIST: @amarachi-luv

don’t hesitate to send an ask or dm to be added!

#caratwritersclub #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen social media au #jihoon fic #woozi fic #mapsu fic #written

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courtofjurdan · 4 years ago

Text

One Chance part 15

Jurdan College AU - previous chapter

masterlist

A/N: I wrote this three times and I think I still hate it. I hope you guys enjoy it and I promise the next one will be better.

Cardan saw her black out and fall over. He tried his hardest to get to her before she fell, but he was too far away. She fell on her side. Cardan was worried for her and the baby because Jude did have a hard impact with the ground and the side of her stomach took a lot of the blow.

He turned her over to lie on her back. He took her face in his hands.

“Jude, baby, wake up, please.” Cardan paused to think. He needs to call an ambulance. He pulls out his phone and dials 911.

“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”

Panting, Cardan replied, “My-” small pause then decided he could think of this later. “My girlfriend just fainted. She’s kinda sweaty and hot to the touch. And she’s 16 weeks pregnant.”

“Where are you at?”

“Elfhame University.”

“And did you say pregnant?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay. By any chance can you see any blood between her legs?”

Cardan looked at her leggings and saw no stains. “No there’s none.”

“Okay that’s a good sign. Put your hand on her stomach. Can you feel any small movements? You might not since she’s not too far along.”

Cardan did as told and he couldn’t even feel the slightest movement, which started to worry him despite what he’s been told. “No, I don’t feel anything.”

“Okay. That’s okay. The ambulance is on their way. If someone nearby can get a cold rag to put on her forehead that might help her wake up faster.”

“Okay.” Cardan looked over his shoulder to find some kids and the professor from their last class standing there. He asked the professor to get what he needed and he did. Cardan placed the rag on her forehead. Cardan thanked the operator and waited for the ambulance.

Jude was sliding in and out of consciousness. Never enough to speak but her eyes would move and then she would go back under.

Cardan kept one hand on her face and the other hand rubbing gentle circles on her bump. Reassuring her she was going to be okay.

In ten minutes the paramedics were there and loading her into the ambulance. Cardan followed them in his black mustang. Getting there at the same time she did. He parked and went back into the room with her. Because of their relationship and the fact that she was caring his baby, they let him stay with her.

She was still out when they got her to the hospital. They started to hook her to a whole bunch of monitors. They put these sticky pads in her chest to monitor her heart rate. They started putting this monitor around her stomach to monitor the baby’s heart rate. They started an IV and gave her fluids.

Cardan held her hand through all of it. Even though she had no idea. He sat in the chair beside her bed the whole time. They told him everything looked fine. Her’s and the baby’s heart rate were great. Her body just needs rest, she’ll wake up on her own time. Cardan let the sound of his baby momma and baby’s heartbeat lull him to sleep.

——-

Cardan awoke to his hand being moved. That means Jude is starting to wake. He opened his eyes and quickly stood onto his feet. Jude was just waking up. He cupped her face into his hand.

“Hey Jude, how are you feeling?”

She looked at him confused. Then started to look around.

“Wh-what happened?” Jude muttered.

Cardan took his hand off her face. “You passed out in the hallway after you were leaving your class. I saw you fall and I couldn’t get you to wake up so I called 911.”

“The baby?”

Trying to keep down his panic and keep his voice calm for her, “Um, they said the baby is okay but I’m not sure what caused your episode. They were waiting for you to wake up.”

Jude nodded her head. And realized she was holding Cardan’s hand so she took it back abruptly. She had Cardan go get the doctor while all the memories of why she was mad at him flooded back.

Dr. Tatterfell came into the room. Without Cardan.

She spoke, “Hey Jude, I’m glad to see you awake. I told Cardan to stay out there unless you want him in here?”

Jude shook her head no. Dr. Tatterfell continued, “We did some blood tests and your blood sugar was really low. Some women can get something called gestational diabetes. We check during the 24-28 week checkup. But you're only 16 weeks so we obviously haven’t checked for it. Some people have it more on the severe side and I would say you are one of them.” she paused. “Have you been feeling much more tired recently?” Jude nodded. “Nausea?” Jude nodded. “Bigger appetite and drinking more?” Jude nodded. “Okay well we can’t take all the symptoms away but we can sure try to manage them.”

“Are there any risks for the baby?” Jude asked hesitantly.

“They can have low blood sugar when they’re born. They can have jaundice. Pre-term birth. Can have some breathing problems. And you can get high blood pressure which can hurt the baby, try to be as stress free as possible. So If you ever feel off call us immediately.”

Jude shook her head yes. The doctor talked to her about the route of treatment they would go, and some diet changes she can make. After that, Cardan came in while the doctor left.

Cardan asked, “Are you okay? Is the baby?”

Jude told him the rundown of things.

“Jude, you should have told me you felt bad. I would have tried to help.”

“Well I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Cardan, or if you’ve had your tongue down to many people's throats, but I’ve been distant.”

Cardan sat down in the chair beside the bed and watched Jude as she rubbed her hand in circles on her bump.

“I’m sorry, Jude. I forgot who I was. I’m not the kid who mocked and tortured you anymore. I don’t want to be. I messed up, and I messed up bad.”

“Yeah no joke.” She paused. “Cardan I need you. I can’t do all this alone. I can’t raise a kid alone.”

Cardan looked up, voice thick with emotion, “You will never be alone.”

“Let's take a break. I will go back to my dorm.”

“Jude, you can’t stay alone. If I overheard right, the doctor said it was wise for someone to stay with you. I’ll sleep on the couch. You get the bed. I’ll keep to myself.”

“Okay. But if I get annoyed, I’m leaving.”

Soon Jude got to go leave. Her body was weak and she just didn’t feel good. Cardan got her back to the dorm and to bed. After that he left to go get Jude some food for her newly formed diet plan.

————

Cardan helped Jude and was as friendly as he could be. Jude had good days and bad days with him. If she felt bad, she was a butthole. If she felt okay, her attitude was more playful with him. Things were beginning to heal between them. The bitterness was slowly leaving them. It was back to cuddling and playful banter.

One night watching a movie on the couch, Cardan spoke up, “Jude, are we good? Will we ever be what we used to be? Well we started to be?”

Jude didn’t know if this was the hormones talking or not, “Yeah Cardan were good. I love you too much to give you up over a mistake. A drunken mistake at that. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Then I may not forgive you.”

Cardan chuckled. “Okay. I love you, Jude.” He dropped a kiss to Jude’s head which was laying on his shoulder.

————

It’s been two weeks, which makes today November 13th. Not only is it Jude’s birthday, but they get to find out the gender of their baby today. Well they won’t find out but the bakery that will make a cake blue or pink cake will find out today.

They decided to have a small get-together with their friends to reveal the gender. It was Cardan’s idea. Jude just wanted to know at the appointment, but Cardan wanted to have a small party. Jude relented. It can’t be that bad. She just hates surprises. Waiting another day won’t hurt.

On top of the gender reveal party, Cardan wanted to celebrate Jude’s birthday on the same day, to which she also relented because Cardan’s puppy dog eyes are charming. But she said yes on the behalf Taryn gets celebrated also.

Jude doesn’t like to celebrate her birthday. The memories of birthday parties as a young kid with her mom and dad are what come to her mind. But Cardan wants to make her birthday different. A happy day.

They are waiting in the waiting room of the doctor office. Jude has missed the last appointment in being busy which she knows is bad but since she was at the hospital and everything was fine, she saw no need in coming in sooner.

She is 18 weeks. Almost half way through her pregnancy. Her stomach doesn’t just look like she’s gained weight, it's obvious that she is pregnant.

She cradles her bump with one hand and holds Cardan’s hand in the other. She is rather anxious for this appointment. She doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, but she is just nervous anyway.

“Jude Duarte.”

Cardan gives her a hand and helps her up even though she can get up easy-ish. She goes back and lays down on the table and pulls the hem of her t-shirt up. Dr. Tatterfell comes in.

“Hello, Jude how are you?”

Jude gives a sweet smile, “I’m doing good. Feeling huge.”

Dr, Tatterfell laughs at that. “Well, darling, it only gets worse from here. Have you been eating, drinking, and resting well?”

“Umm yeah I have.”

Dr, Tatterfell gives her a look of disbelief and looks to Cardan, standing beside Jude.

Cardan clears his throat. “Well she has definitely been eating well. More like raiding my kitchen. Drinking lots of water. The rest is…. complicated. Some days she rests, and other days I can’t get her to stay still. She is stubborn.”

“Yes, I do pick up on that. Jude, rest is very important. You are almost halfway through your pregnancy. You are going to be really tired. Your body is working for two people. With gestational diabetes on top of that, it’s important to rest.”

Jude nods her head in understanding. Dr. Tatterfell continues with a genuine smile, “Well now, would you like to know the sex of your baby?”

Cardan and Jude look at each other, Cardan speaks, “We would not. We want to have a gender reveal party to reveal it. So could you put the results in an envelope?”

“Yes I can. I can also give you pictures of the baby today without the gender so it will still be a surprise but you can still have pictures of your baby.”

They both nod their heads. The doctor squeezes the cold gel into Jude’s bump. Cardan grabs a hold of Jude's hand and they look at the screen together. Jude looks over at Cardan with admiration in her eyes. He shows so much love for someone he hasn’t even met or felt. She loves him for that.

They look at their baby’s head, nose, arms, fingers and then Dr, Tatterfell asks them to close their eyes for the next part so she can find out the sex. After she’s done, she looks at them both and says, “Congratulations.”

She prints the photos and the results and puts them in an envelope and gives them the “safe” picture, meaning it doesn’t show the gender.

She gives Jude a tissue to clean herself off with and says she will see her in a few weeks. Before she leaves the room, Dr. Tatterfell mutters, “Happy Birthday by the way.”

————

They drop the results off at the bakery and Cardan takes Jude to lunch for her birthday.

They were walking back to the car when Jude stopped suddenly and put a hand to the side of her stomach.

Cardan whirls around, “Jude, what’s wrong?”

Jude grabs his hand and places it over the spot where their little baby kicked. Realization dawns in Cardan and he muttered quietly, “Did the baby just kick?”

Jude nodded her head. Cardan’s grin widened. He bent over and kissed the little bump saying, “I love you, little one.” He captured Jude’s lips and walked to the car.

He and Jude watched a movie marathon and went to sleep. They were now sleeping together again. Now that forgiveness was bound.

They were both excited about tomorrow. Not only was it Jude’s birthday party, but it was the day they would finally learn the gender of their little one.

masterlist

next chapter

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#jurdan fanfic #jurdan #jurdan fic #jurdan pregnancy #tfota fanfic #tfota #The Folk of the Air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #queen jude #king cardan #cardan x jude #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #abigail writes

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umiues · 3 years ago

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Oppression works backwards, and in this sense, yes, the actual physical differences of the woman to a man does not matter. The man, as oppressor, will seek any excuse to subjugate the woman, even if it is hypocritical or unfounded. That being said, thousands of years of misogynistic oppression across countless cultures tend to share similar excuses and rules. Such as:

Women should be silent (women are shrill, women are nags, women are stupid)

Women are decorative (either covered up or exposed)

Women are unclean (they bleed, they do dirty jobs, they are sinful)

Women bear children (they are delicate, they are animals, they are props, they are vessels)

It is not biological essentialism to point out these trends, because they are fundamental to our oppression. Oppression may not wholly define a category of people, but acting as if it means nothing to their definition is rejecting a shared and painful history. It is an act of denial that limits class consciousness.

Race is a social construct. Disability is often a matter of perspective. Poverty is relative. None of these things really exist without the agreed upon definitions that we have created: race is marked by physical characteristics, community, culture, and ancestry. Disability limits your ability to function in a standard society. Poverty limits your opportunities within your community.

Womanhood is a social construct, and it is the social construct of sex. Femaleness is defined by an ability to bear children; not by secondary sex characteristics, or some innate quality of ‘being a woman.’ There is no reason for female people to be oppressed for this reason, and it is not justified, nor is it even a quality every woman shares -- there are many women who cannot have children, either because of some medical issue, or because they are too young or too old.

Still, we recognize that pregnancy is used as a tool to control and subjugate the woman by the man. He can keep her locked indoors, chained to his children, under his will as wife to husband. Pregnant women are taught not to do certain things at risk for their children, and young women are told not to do certain things that risk their ability to even conceive. This is not biological essentialism. Biological essentialism would be to claim that motherhood is innate for women, that every women is capable of pregnancy, that it is our only reason to exist. That is not true. Women’s bodies are hostile to pregnancy, and it is a drain on us. Pregnancy is a tool of control.

I can’t totally agree with a perspective of “if men could menstruate, they would make it a tough guy thing” and “no class possesses a trait that makes them logical and worthy of oppression” because I think they redirect the issue from the very fact of our oppression. Oppression of women because they are female is not logical or deserved, but it happens. It has been happening so long that it is intrinsically linked to our understanding of what a woman is.

Why our other oppressed groups allowed to define themselves by that which is used to differentiate them, but women are denied this right? Why are women not allowed to try and reclaim the things that were used to silence and control them? To acknowledge that we bleed, we can have children, that we tend to higher voices or smaller bodies, and say So what? That doesn’t change our inherent value, doesn’t change what we’re capable of. That we know even women these things don’t apply to, by virtue of being female, it is assumed of them and any intended or unintended rejection of these expectations makes you a failure and a target for misogynistic vitriol as well? Why must we act like our oppression isn’t rooted in something real, but that real thing doesn’t make us worthy of oppression? That nobody is?

Women deserve a chance at self-definition, and the fact is, many women find relief in simply being female without the expectations that come with it: to have children, to be feminine, to be silent, to be weaker. If we reach the point of a post-patriarchal society where gender is abolished, that we could just exist as female (or simply “women”) without expectation, and this wouldn’t be replicating the binary gender model because gender is a social construct and relies on being constructed. Sex differences are not constructed; they are basic reality, and they don’t have to mean anything more than we say they do.

Women wouldn’t be controlled by expectation, by pregnancy, and we would be free.

#sex and womanhood #gender #x #terf safe #terfs do touch #yes this is a response to that one post i wanted to write my own tho

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jordswriteswords · 5 years ago

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I Don't Believe In Magic

A continuation of my Clextober universe. I Don't Believe in Magic is set in the College time of Clexa. I'm always accepting more prompts!

---

Lexa drew circles in her notebook with her right hand while her left supported her lazy head. She sighed and flipped the page as the lecturer continued to drone on about mythology. She didn't even know why she took this class. It was a joke in one aspect - listening to humans blather on about mythical beings and how eerie and strange they appeared in comparison to their human counterparts - but another part of her longed to find some similarities between herself and the humans.

She easily found one - they were terrified of one another.

Lexa just didn't understand why.

Her father had scolded her time and time again for being careless with her magic, giving herself away to humans. "You can only rewind someone's memories so often before you run into trouble, Alexandria."

But, Lexa always had a soft spot for humans - always interested in the way they perceived the world and knew that deep down they were more alike than they knew. So, denounced her family tradition of attending the top wizarding school in the world, and accepted the soccer scholarship offered to her by Arkadia University.

***

Clarke Griffin was on a mission. Her last name carried the power of a world-saving doctor. Unfortunately, it also carried the expectations. But Clarke was always known to defy expectations.

That's why she wanted to go above and beyond her mother's medical degree, and double major in both medicine and art.

It was her greatest ambition.

It was also her stupidest idea.

Because, at eight in the morning, when Clarke could have been sleeping before her three hour Animal Kingdom lab, she was stuck in this stupid Mythology 101 class, learning about creatures that never existed and paintings that didn't capture anything of substance.

She wondered how high some of these painters were when they painted these things. Because scientifically speaking, there was no way a woman could take an inanimate object, like a broom, and create enough velocity and speed to have it fly.

Clarke was a woman of science. She had seen her father beat death twice, all due to the medical advancements of man. Sure, hundreds of years ago it would have been seen as witchcraft, but she was positive that the only magical beings were the things that weren't researched.

She sighed, rubbed her eyes as the sigh turned into a yawn, and flipped the page of her agenda, scheduling her free time into her already packed schedule.

***

"Excuse me, I understand that as a society, we've always been a bit spooked by the unknown, but it just seems like the entire concept of witches were solely based on repressing women. I mean, Medusa only turned the men that raped her into stone, but she's spoken of like a villain. Women who showed any sort of forward thinking in Salem were hunted down for witchcraft. I think that maybe we should be discussing the mental health of the accusers than the 'magical powers' of the accused."

Lexa's ears perked up at the husky voice in the midst of destroying the lecturers current argument. Not that she knew what it was, zoning out into a state of semi-consciousness as the monotonous voice of the lecturer carried on.

She looked across the room, noting the long blonde hair and dark blue leather jacket sitting in the front row. She felt her heart do a funny thing then - it beat with a staccato rhythm, every pound precise as she gazed at the girl.

The beating of her heart was so loud that the rest of the argument was lost to the sharp beat in her ears.

Before she could snap her fingers to bring herself closer, the lecturer had dismissed the class, and the blonde was the first one out of her seat.

Lexa grumbled, wishing that at this moment she could snap her fingers to catch up to the blonde. Instead, she had to hustle down the stairs from the back of the class, her shoulder bag flopping against her bare leg.

She caught her just as she had stepped out of the building. "Hey!" Lexa said.

The blonde didn't turn around. Lexa ran past her and came to a stop just in front, doubled over and gasping for breath. She held her hand up to the blonde to ask her to wait.

"I really don't have time for this," Clarke sighed.

"I just -," Lexa gasped. "I wanted to - whoo," she panted, "I wanted to tell you that I liked what you said back there."

Clarke quirked a brow.

"About witch hunting."

"Oh," Clarke laughed. She let her eyes trail up and down Lexa's lithe figure, noting the purple soccer shirt she wore and the short soccer shorts that left little to the imagination. "No one really believes in that stuff anyway. Witches? Goblins? It's just stuff parents tell their kids to behave."

"Maybe we could discuss that? Over coffee?" Lexa asked.

Clarke's grip tightened on her bookbag. "Thanks, but I don't believe in magic. It was nice meeting you…" she trailed off, waiting for the brunette to say her name.

"Lexa, and you will."

"Lexa," Clarke repeated. "It was nice meeting you. See you next week." And with that, the blonde was off.

"Is that the face of a girl who has been sorely rejected?" The dark figure asked as it stepped out of the shadows of the building.

"I'd ask you how much you heard, but I know you're a lurker," Lexa replied, not bothering to look over her shoulder and acknowledge her sister.

Anya laughed and slapped her sister on the back. "I'm not a lurker, I just happened to leave class at the same time. She's cute."

"She's human," Lexa said.

"And yet, that's never bothered you."

"Of course not," Lexa said with a cheeky smirk.

***

"Oh my God," Raven gasped.

Clarke looked up from her notes for a second to check that her friend was okay.

"Who is that hottie? How have I never seen her before?"

Clarke glanced over her shoulder, much to Raven's protest. "Don't look! Oh my God, you make it so obvious!"

The only person Clarke saw was the long brown hair of the soccer player in her class - Lexa.

"Lexa?" She asked her best friend. "The brunette?"

"Screw the brunette, I mean the blonde sitting with her!" Raven said. "She's hot."

"They're both hot," Clarke commented offhandedly. "They're probably together."

Almost as if being summoned, Lexa and her companion stood from their table and walked towards Clarke and Raven.

"Be natural, but they're headed this way," Raven said. She adjusted her posture to sit up taller, pushing her chest out.

"Totally natural," Clarke teased. She bowed her head just slightly, pretending to be deep into her work. For some ungodly reason, the idea that Lexa was walking towards her was unsettling.

"Hey Clarke," Lexa said, stopping by the table. She adjusted the strap of her satchel on her shoulder. She held a regal posture, swagger and confidence seeping from her core. "What's up?"

Clarke looked at her, stunned by the intensity of the green eyes - ethereal in their beauty. She hadn't seen a pair of eyes quite that colour - as though it was constantly shifting when she finally found the name to match the shade. They were light at first, but the longer Clarke stared, the darker they appeared.

"Oh, hey, um…" She was so taken aback by the girl's eyes that she fumbled over her name.

"Lexa," Lexa answered for her. The quirk of her lips disappeared at the rejection. Her eyes shifted to a sharp green before they dropped to her shoes. Her cheeks turned red in embarrassment. "I um," she shook her head. "Nevermind."

Anya cleared her throat.

Embarrassed that the girl she hadn't stopped thinking about could barely remember her, Lexa swung her bag wildly to knock the pile of books in front of Raven to the floor and hustled off, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"Hey!" Raven yelled after her.

Lexa got all the way to the parking lot before the sound of the raspy voice she was enamored with got her to slow down.

"Hey!" Clarke yelled. "Lexa!"

Lexa stopped walking, pulling in a deep breath into her chest. Lexa Woods was better than some silly embarrassment. She turned, cocky smile on her lips and ready to greet Clarke again, but anything she had been planning disappeared with a sharp pang in her cheek and a hollow thud only she could hear.

She fell back onto her butt, her outstretched arms the only thing stopping her from hitting her head.

"You know, you're such a dick. Bullying someone with a disability isn't going to make me want to be your friend! You may be the school sweetheart because you can kick a ball, but Raven is so much more than you'll ever be."

Lexa gaped at the blonde, confused by her words and impressed by the ache in her jaw.

"Just leave me alone, and don't you ever put your hands on Raven or her things ever again!" She turned and stormed away before Lexa could even get a word in.

***

"You're a genius!" Anya sighed, throwing her bag onto the counter of her shared apartment with Lexa.

"Yay," Lexa said sarcastically.

Anya pouted down at her sister and flopped down onto the couch beside her. She flicked her wrist and an ice bag hit Lexa in the face.

"Ouch," Lexa whined. She adjusted it to press against the blossoming bruise she had received from Clarke.

"Raven's human, but the science she used to fuse her spine and create that brace to allow her to walk is practically magic. She's so open minded. Not to mention, beautiful. She and I are going out tomorrow."

Lexa sighed and smiled at her sister. "I'm happy for you."

"I'm sorry Blondie KO'd you. I cleared it all up and told her that you were just incredibly clumsy."

Lexa shrugged.

***

"Hey," Lexa said to the blonde as she entered her Mythology class. She wanted to clear the air and apologize to Raven. "Listen, about yesterday - I didn't -"

"I know," Clarke sighed. "Raven already yelled at me. I'm a little overprotective. Sorry about the left hook."

Lexa smiled down at the girl, and shifted her satchel. "I think it's hot," she said. Her eyes widened, and she looked away, her cheeks dusting pink at her slip.

"Well " Clarke said, pulling at the edge of her textbook, "I'm really sorry. I thought you did it on purpose."

"I did," Lexa answered, nodding at the blonde, "but not for the reasons you think."

Clarke quirked a brow.

"My sister wanted to meet Raven. I had promised to introduce her, but you couldn't remember my name and I was embarrassed. But, I never break a promise, so," Lexa shrugged one shoulder.

Clarke looked down at her text. "Yeah," she breathed.

The lecturer walked in at that moment, and Lexa sent one last look at the girl before heading up the auditorium steps to her seat.

She spent the entire class picturing blonde hair and blue eyes.

***

"Hey, Lexa?" Clarke called out to her as they exited the building. It was pouring rain, most students huddling under the awning as they prepared to race to their next class.

Lexa turned and smiled at the blonde. Clarke was struck again by her beauty. "What a miserable day," she said. "It'd be a good day for a warm drink."

Lexa might have had a witty response if she weren't so preoccupied of the way the little clouds of condensation curled out of Clarke's lips when she spoke.

Clarke chuckled. "About that coffee," she said, hands tightening on her textbooks. " I have eighteen minutes until I have to get to my next class. Would you like to join me?"

Lexa smiled and Clarke blinked rapidly, swearing she saw the green of her eyes shift to a lighter shade.

"Do you feel that?" She asked Clarke.

"Feel what?" Clarke asked, unable to pull her gaze from the brunette even as the girl stepped out into the rain. She was thoroughly soaked when she turned back to Clarke.

Her smile was blinding in it's intensity. "The magic in the air."

"I don't believe in magic," Clarke called, cheeky smile on her lips.

Lexa ran back up the steps next to her and produced an umbrella seemingly out of nowhere with her clothes remarkably dry.

"You will."

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