#maybe i should try to rethink her concept

[cottonlemonade]

Hi hi!! I saw your lemonade stand and I LOVE the concept omg. Can I request a medium watermelon lemonade with pomegranate seeds for Asahi?

Thank you so much if you write it !! I hope you have a great day 🩷

Sharing A Tent With His Crush

word count: 1926 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: Asahi x chubby manager!Reader

genre: fluff with spice

warning: mdni, spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, sharing a tent with pining friend Asahi

“One, two, three, four…”

As Takeda counted in the background, Coach Ukai studied his clipboard, listening with a content smile to the hollering and laughter that was carried up from the beach by an easy sea breeze. The kids were off swimming and building sandcastles and trenches, enjoying their hard earned freedom after weeks of studying and practices.

“Oh no.”

Ukai turned to the teacher.

“What is it, Sensei?”

“Oh nononono - no!”

“What? Did we forget a cooler? What?”

“We are one tent short!”

“What?!”, Ukai’s booming yell made some birds fly out of a tree top, “I double checked it! Are you sure?”

The men stood shoulder to shoulder, counting. Again. And again. But even after the fifth time, Ukai had to admit his mistake.

“What are we gonna do?”, Takeda asked, panic rising in his voice.

“We just… gotta rethink logistics.”, Ukai said, grabbing the clipboard once more and flipping to the page of the sleeping arrangements.

One of the boys was supposed to sleep alone anyway. And one of the girls, too, because both numbers were uneven.

“Maybe we can squeeze Nishinoya, Hinata and Yamaguchi into one and then have y/n take the free boys’ tent.”

“Sensei, we can’t just sort them by size. I think… hm, y/n is a third year. If we put her with one of the other third years they should have the presence of mind not to try any funny business. The first years won’t get a wink of sleep having a girl so close to them at night and the second years are as girl-crazy as they come.”

“How about Sugawara then?”

“Don’t be too trusting, Sensei. I don’t think he is as innocent as he seems.”, Ukai said with a frown, “And Sawamura might do something without even realizing he is flirting. - I hate to say it but … Azumane will be too chicken to even go near her. I think he is our best bet.”

Asahi went pale when the news broke over dinner. He looked at you and was quite relieved to see you equally as shocked.

“It‘s just for one night.“, Ukai said quickly, “Not a big deal.“

Both the ace and third manager would very much beg to differ but the coach already made his way back to Takeda and his plate of chicken.

“No big deal.“, you repeated under your breath.

“No big deal.“, Asahi agreed.

It was, in fact, a big deal to Asahi. He didn‘t know exactly when he started to be hopelessly in love with you but if he had to take a guess, it was probably somewhere around the time when he noticed all of his sketches and doodles of various outfits becoming chubbier until they eventually matched your figure. Skirts for a lovely Sunday date, pantsuits for eventually kicking butt at an office where you undoubtedly would end up as CEO sooner or later, dresses for imaginary galas you‘d attend and even an elaborate gown for a daydream of a royal ball he had during a boring physics lesson. (He also came up with his own outfit for that occasion to match you.)

Noya was the only one he confided in. The libero had sworn on his honor to never hit on you and ever since tried to push his best friend to make a move before graduating and possibly losing sight of you. And after much pushing and pestering and strategizing, Asahi, under threat of violence, had agreed to confess his feelings before graduation - as an out, Asahi didn’t tell his friend that he hadn’t actually specified whether it was graduating high school or university so he still had time either way.

After dinner the team gathered around a bonfire to roast marshmallows and make up completely ridiculous, yet confident, remarks about constellations in the clear night sky.

Asahi was torn between wanting to play for time until curfew or savor every second of the increasingly appealing mishap - to share a tent, all night, alone, side by side with his crush.

But of course, as with every good beach episode, there had to be a game of truth or dare involved.

Daichi was forced to admit that he was deadly scared of mice, Hinata had to sit still for a whole minute and, in the meantime, Tsukki was dared to not insult him once. It was fun until Noya turned to you and the glint in his eyes made you gulp.

“So, y/n-san. Truth or dare?”

Quite frankly, both of these were dangerous coming from him but maybe truth wouldn’t be so bad.

Noya gave a victorious grin.

“Who, of the people here, do you have a crush on?”

Asahi wasn’t sure if it was the light of fire that made your cheeks look so pink. His heart quickened. You stammered, kneading your fingers in your lap.

“Alright everyone.”, Daichi said when an alarm went off on his phone, “Let’s get to bed. Lights out in 15 minutes.”

Noya groaned and began to argue but one look from the captain had him crumble. So instead, he and Tanaka pushed each other out of the way, eager to be the one to accompany Kiyoko the few steps to the tent she shared with Yaachi.

Suga and Daichi gave Asahi a nondescript nod Goodnight before heading to bed themselves.

It was quite miraculous, you thought, how Asahi’s massively tall frame could fit next to you, when your plump form occupied a good part of the truly pathetically crammed tent already.

You sat cross legged on your sleeping bag, in your pyjama shorts and oversized t-shirt. Given the sleeping arrangements you decided to keep wearing a bra.

“Just for one night, right?”, you said in a (failed) attempt to make your voice sound light and airy.

You pumped some oil into the palm of your hand before running your fingers through your hair. The pleasant smell filled the tent. You caught his eyes and smiled, then both of you looked away again. The atmosphere was somewhat stiff, even though you’ve been on friendly terms with the fellow third years ever since you switched over from the Sewing Club about a year ago.

“Do you think-“

“So what would you-“

You said at the same time and broke off, laughing awkwardly.

“You first.”, he said.

“Do you think it���s okay if we keep on a light?”, you asked.

“Sure. Do you have one? Cause otherwise, I brought-” Asahi reached for his backpack and so did you.

After a moment’s rummaging you produced a small panda bear figure and turned to see a thing in his hand that looked suspiciously like a round little rabbit with a leaf umbrella.

“Is that… is that the official Totoro night light with 8 different color options and dimming function??”

Asahi nodded and you clasped your hands in delight, leaning closer to inspect it as he held it out to you. You let out a small gasp. This was one of the best night lights on the market right now after all!

“I wanted one of those for ages! But they're always sold out! How did you get it?”

“I set myself an alert for when they’re back in stock.”

He basked in your impressed “Ohhhh” and a few minutes later you both lay on your stomachs, looking at the two soft glowing figures in front of you.

Outside the tent, Ukai nodded approvingly on his last checkup before turning in himself in the room he shared with Takeda in a guesthouse on the border of the camping grounds.

“What was your question?”

“Hm?”, Asahi turned to look at you.

“Earlier when I asked you about the light. You wanted to say something as well. What was it?”

“Oh, not important.”, he said and moved the Totoro night light a little closer to your panda.

“Come on, I wanna know.”, you lightly pushed his leg with your foot to encourage him.

“I was just… I-i was wondering what you would have said if Daichi’s alarm hadn’t gone off.”, he mumbled.

“When? Oh, the game. Uhm.” The pink from earlier returned to your cheeks. Now would be as good a time as any, you thought and after a deep breath you replied, “You.”

Stupidly, Asahi rolled around to check if there was someone else behind him in the tiny tent before moving his attention back to you.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”, you laughed.

“I- I don't know what to say.”, Asahi stammered.

You regarded him with a thoughtful smile, still somewhat hopeful that what Kiyoko and Suga told you was right.

“Well, you could tell me if you feel the same or not, maybe?”

“Oh right! Yes!”, he said, much louder than intended and ducked his head a moment later, “Yes, I do like you. A lot.”

You beamed at him.

“Nice.”

The following giggles were suppressed in your respective pillows.

When you came back up for air he brushed a few loose strands of hair out of his face and cleared his throat, “Would you like to go out with me once we’re back?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great.”

You both looked at each other, unsure of what to do next.

“So…”, you began, weighing your words carefully, “Do you wanna make out?”

If Asahi had been drinking water, he would have choked on it. His face immediately turned bright red and he needed a minute to put a coherent word together. You waited patiently.

“Yes.”, he croaked eventually.

He didn’t move.

“I’ll be right there.”, he assured you, his voice and face still not quite back to normal.

“That’s alright.”

Asahi’s eyes widened when you scooted closer and your noses almost touched.

“Hi.”

“H-hello.”

It started out with a peck. You pulled back to check if he had any objections but you didn’t get very far. His lips followed yours as if magnetic. He sighed into the kiss and your smile widened if possible even further. His large hand came to rest on your waist and you slotted your leg between his. The kiss soon became open mouthed, your tongue slipping back and forth to test the waters.

You hummed happily against him, making him squeeze your pillowy hips. He was losing his mind. How could one person feel this good? Your hand brushed down his muscular arm to lay on top of his and began to move it. He was so engrossed in your taste that he didn’t notice until he cupped your breast.

“Y/n…”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. He stared at his hand, how it went up and down along with your panting. You, in turn, felt him throb against your thigh that was pushed between his legs.

Your chubby fingers closed around his much larger hand, easing him into the idea that he was free to touch you.

“Y/n…”, he whispered again and was met with your lips on his once more. He had never been drunk before but he was sure this was exactly what it must feel like.

Asahi groaned into your mouth when his palm pressed against your hardened nipple, pushing through the fabrics.

____________________

Picking up a piece of omelet with his chopsticks the next morning, Asahi grinned down at his bowl of rice like an idiot. You sat right next to him, so close that your heavenly thighs touched his, just as dazed from the previous night.

Tsukki frowned and said to no one in particular, but loud enough for you to hear, “Do they realize that tents aren’t soundproof?”

a/n: this one got so away from me xD thank you for your request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy it 🌟

Also I apologize for being so inactive. It’s a mixture of writer’s block, summer heat and a twisted back 🥲

[yanderes-galore]

Hey, man. What's up. Hey, can I ask you an question. Is it possible to an Yandere Concept for Sunny Starscout (from MLP G5)?

I can try, she isn't a very intense yandere so don't expect anything overly graphic. Again, pairing is general as it was not specified.

Pulling her behavior from this Earth Pony concept I did a while ago.

Yandere! Sunny Starscout Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Stalking, Jealousy, Slight threats, Kidnapping, Isolation, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Sunny would be a pony who is attached to somepony who supports her.

She's a pony who prioritizes friendship and love.

After all, her role is to bring ponies together.

So I imagine she prioritizes the bond she and her obsession supposedly have.

She isn't violent, I mean... more than half of the MLP yanderes aren't.

I just see Sunny as overly clingy and maybe manipulative towards her obsession.

She doesn't see what she's doing as wrong.

She's delusional and believes her obsession does care/love her no matter what!

She's actually really hard not to turn down.

Sunny stalks her obsession occasionally when she has to be away from them.

Most of the time she just doesn't leave your side.

Sunny is very passionate with her obsession.

She's overly affectionate and likes to be cliché with you.

She gives you gifts often and always smothers you in physical affection.

She has similar behavior as either a platonic or romantic yandere.

However, when romantic she's more shy.

As a romantic yandere she definitely researches what couples to with one another then tries to have you do it with her.

Sunny's biggest issue is her delusional behavior.

She doesn't quite understand if she's making you uncomfortable or believe what she's doing is wrong.

It's... it's normal to be around the one you adore all the time, right?

She's just a clingy friend... or an affectionate partner.

It's... normal to feel jealous when your friend/beloved speaks with others... no?

She's never experienced such an emotion so she immediately thinks things are normal.

Which makes sense... as she was very sheltered in her youth due to her father's beliefs.

So... being clingy, jealous, and smothering is something she feels is right.

She's never felt the need to threaten other ponies, though... so she admittedly gets concerned when she loses her temper and freaks out on a pony you're close to.

I said in a previous concept that Sunny wouldn't kidnap... but I am rethinking that a bit.

She's delusional so she may kidnap but not "realize" it.

For example... locking you in Maretime Bay's Lighthouse with her.

She just... wants to hang out for a bit longer!

A bit longer quickly becomes... hours... days... and she doesn't see it as wrong.

For the most part Sunny is tame, with the right amount of affection you probably can't even tell she's "yandere".

It's when she feels you're "neglecting" her or others are "taking your attention" that she snaps.

When she snaps, she still isn't violent.

She may lock you away in her Lighthouse then act like it's normal.

Why do you look so upset?

Can't you tell she adores you?

Sunny doesn't understand why you begin to hate her.

There's times she's somewhat lucid... lucid enough to hide you, that is.

She has a vague feeling that she should stop this when you're locked away.

But at the same time... hasn't she gone too far to stop?

Surely things will get better... she just has to try harder!

She'll wipe your tears and try to comfort you... but she won't let you go once she has you.

You two are clearly meant to be best friends or partners!

Sunny will take care of you... she's a good friend/partner!

Eventually you'll break and see this... she just has to sit beside you and be patient.

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Hey! I recently stumbled upon one of your writings and it was breathtaking, I loved it :] And I was hoping you could write a Hero x Villain but one them has powers similar to a cat or dog and the other would try to pet them a lot or tease them about it, whichever you’d like. (Ex. As in they have the ears and the tail, advanced hearing abilities, fast on their feet. A cat would have retractable claws and dogs would have sharper teeth). Preferably, mlm or wlw if you’re okay with that, just wholesome. If you can’t get to this or don’t have time, that’s fine too.

Thank you for the request, this was a bit of a stretch out of my writing comfort zone but I actually really enjoyed writing this! Great concept!!

“Does it ever hurt?” The words caught Villain mid monologue.

She turned with a brow raised, “Excuse me?”

Hero gazed back at her with pure curiosity, motioning to the tips of Villain’s fingers, “Your claws,” she cocked her head to the side and Villain hated to admit how adorable it looked, “Does it hurt when you make them retract like that?”

The question left Villain speechless. She sputtered as those innocent eyes met her own, patiently awaiting an answer. Unbelievable.

“That’s what you’re worried about? I’m about to destroy this town, you’re completely restrained, no way to stop me- and you want to know about my claws?”

Hero shrugged, almost appearing annoyed that Villain had dodged the question.

“You’re insane.”

“Well, if I’m being honest I was gonna ask about your ears first, but I figured you wouldn’t be as open to answering that. They’re pretty though. I’ve always liked them,” Hero smiled and Villain blushed. Blushed. What was wrong with her?

She wasn’t ready for what came next.

“Could I feel them?”

A No had already prepared itself on Villain’s tongue, her lips pulled deep into a frown, and yet that face bore into her soul. Hero had to know what she was doing. That smile was much too bright to be anything other than a trick, a way to get Villain to put her guard down. She was smarter than this- if anything her claws should be used to shut Hero up right now.

Villain made the mistake of locking eyes with the Hero again and her face grew hot almost immediately. This was nuts. Hero was unthinkable. Maybe that was why Villain couldn’t resist, why she moved before she had the chance to think.

An arm's reach from the Hero she stopped. For now she was untouchable. Hero’s arms still remained pinned to her sides by iron cuffs. Villain’s hand trailed to her pocket, and slowly, she retrieved a key.

Hero was all but beaming as she unlocked the manacles, bouncing up and down like some kind of child. It brought a chuckle to Villain’s lips. She really was an oddity. It was a wonder she had even managed to defeat Villain in previous battles, though it was true that Villain had never seen this side of the Hero before.

Now freed, Hero rubbed her wrists and winced at the red lines that graced her skin. She was silent, looking to Villain for some kind of permission. Villain resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead leaned forward before she had the chance to rethink her decisions. “Well?” Villain raised a brow, “It’s quite rude to stare you know.”

Hero jumped from her stupor, flushing red. “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just your eyes, they’re a lot more vibrant up close. It looks good- actually all of you looks good. I- um…it's not, I just-” her hands waved frantically before Hero settled into a soft smile, “You look nice, for a Villain that is.”

“I see.” Villain’s lips had tugged into a smirk. She leaned closer if only to see that dazzling blush spread further across her nemesis’ face. “You have three seconds, don’t press my patience.”

Hero met her with a blank stare for a moment, again tilting her head to the side. Villain almost thought to revoke the offer before realization struck the Hero. She reached forward and Villain had to keep from flinching as gentle fingers settled upon her head. No one had ever touched her ears like this before. Hero stroked them softly, running her nails along the edge and Villain���s eyes slipped shut on instinct. A sigh escaped her lips, and without thinking she leaned into Hero’s touch.

“They’re so soft,” Hero whispered. That was enough to break the Villain from her stupor. She jumped back and hated the way Hero almost looked disappointed.

Her brows narrowed, “Shut up.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?”

“No- I just,” Villain rubbed her temples and resisted a groan, “We’re done here.”

“Says the one who willingly leaned into the touch.”

“Excuse me?!” Villain whirled around. A smirk painted the Hero’s lips, the awkward manner she had possessed before gone as if it had never existed. Now freed, there was nothing to stop the Hero from advancing forward. She entered the Villain’s space before she had the chance to stop it with that smile that shone brighter than any star.

Hero was careful not to overstep any boundaries. Although she was close- very close for that matter- she did no more than stand. She took in Villain’s shocked expression with deep eyes, “You know, you act embarrassed but I don’t see why. You’re the most stunning person I’ve ever met. I mean it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. Hero was playing a dangerous game. Something about her gaze told Villain she knew what she was doing. She didn’t care anymore. It seemed neither of them did.

Without a word, Villain leaned forward again. Hesitant at first, she scanned her nemesis’ eyes for understanding before Hero finally caught on. With a pleased smile, Hero reached forward and touched Villain’s ears just as gently as she had done before. A weight instantly lifted from the Villain’s chest and she too couldn’t keep from smiling. How she had gotten here, she would never be able to explain, and yet then she didn’t feel the need to. No one had ever referred to her- all of her- as beautiful before, much less treated her with such care and tentativeness. As Hero brushed back a strand of her hair, Villain moved close, her lips brushing against the Hero’s ear.

“It doesn’t hurt by the way, the claws. The feeling is more of an itch if anything.”

Hero hummed and Villain didn’t have to look back to picture the smile that graced her features. All too quickly the mission slipped from her thoughts and it remained just the Hero and her. Somehow Villain couldn’t seem to mind.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

please tell me ur not adding that love triangle nonsense drama or at least writing it properly

Technically there's a lot of love triangles but the long and short of the S3-related stuff is addressed here

I know people like to either just write it out entirely or simply make it poly (...or make it about Bruise itself, which, more power to those people), but like.......on paper, there's groundwork for some fascinating concepts here! Nya rethinking her somewhat rushed relationship with Jay and considering other options for herself and moving to figure out herself to begin with; Jay being forced to take a step back and reexamine his actions and also who he is beyond his relationships with others; Cole trying to figure out what it is he wants/needs from a relationship should he ever get himself into one and why he feels like he needs constant validation/reassurance from others in his life regardless...that could all be interesting stuff to dig deeper into!!!!

And yeah, love triangles suck to experience, but, it is still something people experience and go through and have to figure out how to deal with! Sometimes you have to realize you need to be the one to walk away. Sometimes maybe you do just have to put yourself out there and be forward with what you're looking for. Sometimes you have to make the call of just how worth it the relationship is in the end. Sometimes it can all be resolved with a compromise or a poly relationship; sometimes that could be a horrible idea given the personalities and specific needs/wants of those involved.

There's no universal solution for a love triangle; it's all dependent on the individuals involved, the actions they take, and their personal feelings about all of it...and there's a lot of potential for compelling stories there! But ignoring the issue or going straight for an easy way out is just as aggravating to me as indulging in the drama simply for the drama's sake...which S3 does as we all know, and why we all despise it to some degree or another :V

I can't blame people for being so turned off by the idea given that the show decided to execute the concept with drama that serves no purpose, nor any meaningful dynamic shifts to come of the conflict itself...but that's where I come in, and I've always liked a challenge~

[misswoozi]

okay, don’t expect much from me rn, my brain isn’t very big and wrinkly lol. i always got dom!verse vibes from jiwoo, but it was actually those very pictures that solidified that for me 🫠. i just had a little thought: she was with a partner one day, someone kinda like sana (maybe) who she was fwb with, and their reaction (to jiwoo’s god tier strap game) made her pretty curious, so she asked her partner to try fucking her with the strap, and she ended up instructing her partner on how she wanted to be fucked and really enjoyed it. in my head, i think jiwoo especially loves the feeling of being in control and that experience made her rethink her initial feelings about bottoming because she realized that bottoming ≠ subbing or giving up control, or something… it’s not an every time thing, but if she’s in the mood then she’s down to bottom… and i love that for her -🍟

French Fry Anon: Don't expect much from me.

also French Fry Anon: SUBMITS A PERFECTLY-CRAFTED, WELL-WRITTEN, REALISTIC AND DEADLY SCENARIO ABOUT BOTTOM!JIWOO THAT OPENS MY EYES TO THIS IDEA ENTIRELY???

Dude this is legitimately perfect 😭😭 I accept this headcanon FULLY. The only thing I'd change is the FWB and that's only because I don't think Sana is someone who would be into/comfortable topping someone with a strap.

But the concept is brilliant. Jiwoo sees how responsive this partner (who we should figure out ASAP because there's much more to discuss here) her partner is and it makes her curious about it herself.

YOUR BRAIN IS HUGE, OP. GOOD CONTENT.

[fierceawakening]

ceanothusspinosus Oh! I did not at all mean to imply that competing access needs are necessarily solvable. They really truly may not be, and when that clash prevents a good relationship, it sucks. It also takes skill and practice to sort out what your own needs _are_ and it sounds like she is… not good at that. Possibly not interested in becoming good at that. Possibly ashamed to look at it too closely and see where she can and can’t compromise. Who knows. At some point it doesn’t matter for your purposes. :/

ceanothusspinosus I think that the existence of ableism provides a lot of context and imposes a lot of constraints on the whole situation. I imagine that in a less ableist world she’d maybe have different expectations of you and tbh of herself. But it’s not ableist to notice that different people have different abilities, and in your situation it makes sense that you’re really sensitive to concepts like expectations around “ability” used without failsafes.

ceanothusspinosus And in ~abusive/very unbalanced situations “ability” and motivation is commonly, idk. Complicated. Unclear. It comes down to “even if the most generous reading is true, I don’t think it’s going to change and I don’t want to live like this.” I’m thinking of you wondering if she’s copying some of your own ND traits/habits - I certainly can’t know from here, that’s definitely not the sort of thing you’re likely to get a straight answer on if so, it _could_ just be her own stuff...

ceanothusspinosus …so where does that leave you? Looking at the situation more carefully while you do your best to be what you consider an ethical person with no obvious answers, unfortunately. :/ And it’s clear you are trying to be careful.

ceanothusspinosus Also btw, thanks for being clear about the kind of answer you wanted.

No problem! I think part of the issue is, like... social justice types of framework, where you taboo certain phrases, really don't port over well when someone is dealing with an abusive situation or a situation that's leaning that way. Like, it's useful when my therapist says something sounds narcissistic not because she can or should diagnose anyone who isn't me (and I don't take her to be doing that), but because we have a somewhat shared understanding of the word. She's telling me she thinks that behavior is unfair, and the sort of unfair that stays that way and you don't fix with a clarifying conversation, because the kind of person who is often unfair in that way is the kind of person who isn't psychologically ready to have that clarifying conversation and is going to lash out.

It's the same way (and the same situation, I think, painted different colors) I eventually decided I felt about gendered slurs. No, I don't technically HAVE to call my abusive ex a bitch, and I actually wouldn't see much use in calling her that now. But at the time, when I was angry and hurt? Trying to police my own ways of thinking about what was happening were what got me stuck in the being abused in the first place. It was only once I could trust that I wasn't revealing some deep evil going "fuck that bitch" that I could get the distance I needed to rethink whether that was a phrase I wanted to use once the experiences were sufficiently behind me.

Which is I think the problem with a lot of those posts, especially online, that exhort people not to use certain terms to analyze the behavior of someone mistreating them. What that comes across like to the person trying to understand what the fuck happened is "you're mean for processing this in your mind, and if you want to do that you need to choose from the approved tools."

Which I think is why those posts got my goat so much. (I hope they wouldn't as much now that I've thought through this, but they might still bug me, I can't promise the berserk button is totally deactivated.) Survivors need space to be mean and aggro and messy, and just because we feel it this second doesn't mean we endorse it forever. People who are injured scream. This does not mean screaming is appropriate behavior most of the time. It means that it's normal when someone is injured.

Like with my ex. Reading books on BPD actually helped a lot! Not because I came out of it thinking "all people who have that are abusive;" I can think of several friends current and former who I don't think are abusive and who I certainly don't think would ever do the things she did that traumatized me. But because a long careful description of behaviors and psychic distortions helped impose some order on what I experienced as a maelstrom of desire and need and rage and hate.

I'm not even sure I'm going to come out of this thinking narcissism is the problem. I might even decide I think she's neurotypical when all is said and done, I don't know. But I need to be able to shut the social justice framing down at least long enough to sort out what I need, why what I have is not that, and whether (as my therapist has also said) the right thing for me is no contact or less contact.

And in order to sort that out, I need to be able to try on ideas like "No one cares that you're disabled. I care that you don't stop, whether that's won't or can't."

I can sort out whether that's too harsh *later*, when I know my own decisions and their results better than now.

Does that make sense?

[jeneelestrange]

I have a weird experience in that I’m a former teacher and now primarily do a lot of work with elderly patients, and learning new things isn’t thaaaat different of a thing across generations or disciplines given the most common things that are going to trip you up in my experience. Yes, some of them have straight up dementia that is going to not make it possible, but considering how easy they’ve made some programs and that I’ve also taught mentally delayed kids, they’d have to be compleeeeeetely gone for it to be just any sort of tech to be a lost cause for them.

The biggest thing is fear. It literally is the mind killer. The elderly are generally convinced that if they press the wrong button they’re going to make it crash or get a virus or get their money stolen by a Nigerian prince scam. But that fear is honestly what’s holding them back more than anything. That feeling that someone is unwilling to learn, where they just shit on the very concept of technology’s existence? That’s because they’re convinced deep down that they’re never going to remember it right, they’ll inevitably mess it up, and it’s really easier on everyone if you do it for them or just don’t try but their pride won’t admit this. That they’re too old and tired and the mountain is just too tall to climb now. Everything’s new and they’re already scared and that kind of thinking is more likely to make their adrenaline spike and oh man, how well can you think like that? It’s like at a certain point I realize I am NOT going to solve a computer problem when it’s getting close to lunch time and I’m too hangry.

Intimidation will kill you before you’ve even started. Thinking you need to be flawless at something immediately because it’s been a while since you learned something new and you’ve forgotten what that’s like—even though literally no one has been a virtuoso at anything immediately—will kill your enthusiasm in the cradle.

And being encouraging helps. Think of how that might have gone differently if that 97 year old lady had asked someone different in the middle how to set up email. And that new worker had been having a bad day, rolled their eyes and thought to themselves, “Oh my goood, this lady doesn’t even know how to do that? She wants me to show her that?” And the answer was passive aggressive and curt. While the 97 year old lady had been doing really well, now she felt belittled. I guess it was a silly question, she thought. Maybe she wasn’t doing as well as she thought. Maybe she’d rethink the purchase of that computer. And the interaction and fate could have gone completely differently.

If your elderly relative keeps asking you for the same process over and over(likely it’s a process they don’t do often), have them write step by step how to do it in a technology journal—they can write their own little asides like what icons look like to them, what side of the screen it’s on, etc so it’s the most likely to be remembered by them. That’s the condition of you continuing to help them. If even that doesn’t work, remake their notes with actual clip out pictures from the screen. If that seems ridiculous….idk man, that’s basically what gets used in user manuals and training materials for software for a reason. They aren’t an exception. They just don’t have the years of experience and repetition you do, which is a LOT. This is what you use to get people doing that repetition.

For some of them it’s a blow to the ego to have to learn something from someone who they’ve watched grow up. But you’ve learned a lot from them, so you’re returning the favor. And learning and remembering things isn’t all that different, no matter what age you are.

Realizing why they often struggle and having compassion for it while learning to set the appropriate teaching boundaries will help you to have compassion for yourself with whatever you’re telling yourself you should automatically be masterful at despite that not being a thing and be kind to yourself. To not listen to other people who are being assholes to you just for the crime of being a beginner and be ok with asking seemingly simple questions. And realize when yeah, sometimes you are just too overwhelmed and intimidated and upset to think clearly, not that you’re actually dumb or even bad at something. I was usually the person who worked on office computer problems before we called IT, but even me—I had a computer problem hit me on the WORST POSSIBLE DAY when I had a bazillion deadlines and oh god I can’t figure it out but I also don’t have time to really mess with it. Guess what fixed it? Turning the computer. Off. And on. Again.

Me: “How can I help you today, ma'am?” Client: “Is e-mail internet”? Me: “I beg your pardon?” Client: “Is e-mail on the internet? I have no internet, can I still read my e-mail?” Me: “Well yes, you must be able to get online to view your e-mail.” Client: “Oh, dear. I can’t see my e-mail.” Me: “Well, let’s see. Can you open up Internet Explorer for me and tell me what you see?” Client: “Open what?” Me: “Your browser, can you open up your browser?” Client: “My…my…?” Me: “What you click on when you want to browse the internet?” Client: “I don’t use anything, I just turn my computer on, and it’s there.” Me: “Okay. Do you see the little blue ‘e’ icon on your desktop?” Client: “You mean I have to start writing letters again?” Me: “I’m…what, I’m sorry?” Client: “I don’t have any pens at my desk. I just want my e-mail again.” Me: “No, ma'am, your desktop, on your computer screen. Can you click on the little blue ‘e’ on your computer screen for me?” Client: “Oh, this is too much work. I’m too upset. Just send me my e-mail. Can’t you send me my e-mail?” Me: “We…okay, ma'am. Can you tell me what color the lights are on your router right now?” Client: “My what?” Me: “The little box with green or possibly a couple of red lights on it right now - it’s most likely near your computer?”

Client: “Lights and boxes, boxes and lights, just get my e-mail for me.

Me: “My test is showing that you should be able to get online right now. Can you tell me what you’re seeing on your computer screen?” Client: “It’s been the same thing for the last two hours.” Me: “An error message?” Client: “No, just stars. It’s black and moving stars.” Me: “…Do you see your mouse next to your keyboard?” Client: “Yes.”

Me: “Move it for me.” Client: “Move it?” Me: “Yes. Move it.” Client: “My e-mail!”

[muttfangs]

writing about my experiences w/ an MMO I have a weird relationship with, world of warcraft (musing to myself, opinions are welcome especially from seasoned wow players <3)

so there's a lot… of layers… to this… but I'm mostly going to be dissecting the sociopolitical aspect of the playerbase (and, stating the obvious, a lot of the old concepts and especially horde motifs are incredibly! racist and weird. and blizz hasn't really updated it… or made plans to retroactively fix things to be less jarring… GUESS ITS EASIER SAID THAN DONE BUT LIKE… blizz is a billion dollar game company so I don't Fuking Know Why They Havent Yet Man)

anyways, getting into what I wanted to kvetch about--

maybe this is like. just a socially abrasive autism thing like, overall, idk! but every time I attempt to get in a guild thats considered "bigger" (so like idk. 20 active, consistent members) I end up feeling like. very out of place and / or butting heads with ppl in the guild who suck (i.e. post weird shit and I say 'no thats not cool', are a proud ex military / active duty / cop lover, that type of thing) EVEN IN!! QUEER FOCUSED GUILDS WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN

if I had to guess it's because the bulk of WoW's player base is aging. and I thought there'd be more down-to-earth millennials to find a guild / do stuff with that wouldn't be hugely insufferable. but like. mayyybe I was being too optimistic about the playerbase of a very popular USamerican MMO that still has a lot of incredibly racist thematics that have pretty much never been addressed. THE ANSWER IS RIGHT THERE DUDE WHY. DO YOU THINK PEOPLE WILL BE BETTER THAN THAT :,)

it really blows tho, bc I enjoy my "haha silly cartoon MMO". it's well made. Blizz fine-tuned the shit out of WoW, especially with the latest expansion. but the playerbase still kinda really sucks. it's far, far less wretched than in 2016 (… I dare not repeat some of the shit I witnessed in trade / city chat during that year… there's a reason I always have those channels off in every MMO now…) but I overall feel like i will probably always be an outcast in any sort of guild community i attempt to be a part of fr.

the guild prior to the one I'm in really sucked shit and basically was forcing me to apologize for saying "cis people are terrible to me in front of my face at my job daily" and I wouldn't so I left. and then after I left (I said "no I'm not doing that and you should rethink what you're saying to me" and left. nothing crazy or dramatic even tho i wanted to curse all of them out) the fucking guild master DM'D ME!! ON DISCORD!! to further preach and chastise me about how "nOt AlL CiS PeOpLe" and it was so, so horrible and invasive. and I told her off THEN because how fucking dare you chase me into a private message like that after I left

my guild now is at least better than that. but I still just feel like. very. lukewarm. I grimace at a lot of it, and had to block numerous people on the disc server so I wouldn't "butt heads" with weird assholes on the server. but I feel like idk??? I have never had a guild where I feel comfortable and not fucking annoyed sociopolitically at. even in the LGBT+ friendly ones. and this isn't a humble brag?? im not trying to be like UGH IM SOOO WOKE AND TOO LEFTIST FOR THESE PLEBS it's moreso like… I don't want to block half your server bc you refuse to take a stand when your guildies do / say weird shit or are pro-military / pro-cop / racist

I shouldn't have to. you should be kicking ppl out when they do fucked up things. the onus should not be on me to block people.

like idk. I don't want to hang around spineless neolib queers. but this might be the best I can find on this game, considering the sort of like… ongoing cultural microcosm of the game itself. I might have to be a solo player in an online game, which sucks mega bad dude! I love it when I have fun interactions w/ other people while playing online games. thats why I play them!!! but like so far my search for a guild to just feel like. good and welcoming. seems pretty bleak lol

hooooooooughhh whatever idk.

side note: please don't suggest FF14 to me. I hate that game / square enix for an entirely different subset of reasons that I'm not delving into here lmao

[bucketofhomestucktrash]

"a more developed brain" therein lies the problem. sure. OP of that post has eloquence that makes you make assumptions about their ability to control actions. neither here nor there (but . trust someones words about their disability in future maybe). but. what about people who can't? like people who /genuinely/ cant. my cousin has a severe development disability and will almost certainly never be able to control starting to scream and sob in public when her brain LITERALLY can't comprehend the emotions she is feeling. some people have tics, some people have much more difficulty controlling motor nerves, some people's ability to comunicate is far more limited. to put it simply: some disabilities /literally/ affect the developent of the brain, and as much as you now are hiding behind being autistic to brush off being a dick to someone, what it really says is that you have no interaction with disabled people who aren't eloquent enough to make their voices known in public. and that you dont think of or care about them. if you have reason for me not to think this - i'd love to hear more

I wasn’t attempting to talk about those who have severe brain development problems, but rather I was attempting to make a point about a majority of disabled people being able to have an understanding about and an ability to take responsibility for their actions as I am trying to do. OP articulated a concept in a way that shows to their audience (at least to me but of course I may be wrong that’s always a possibility) that their brain is capable of introspective thinking, though perhaps not without someone for help understanding other perspectives as it seems that helps with many people, disabled or not. I never was trying to imply that this is the case for everyone and I understand how awful I have come across in certain choice words. I’m not asking you to overlook the things I said but rather understand I am changing as a person based on this experience and trying to work more with myself and my support system so I don’t do things like that in the future and rethink some of my ideologies as they come up as being wrong or controversial.

I want to be clear that I understand my mistake in responding to the original post and have been doing a lot of thinking about how I misunderstood it. I should’ve read the post more than two or three times since it seems I do have difficulty fully processing wording at times and should be clear about what the post is saying before anything is said. I’m trying to force myself to rethink many of my writings more than I would. I’m not trying to make this a sob story about me or anything, I just want to note that I do have very intense anxiety and have been attempting to interact with others online to help alleviate social anxiety when interacting with others in general, both in person and online as recommended by my therapist. I believe that this experience has been rather enlightening about how I should go forward when I have access to take my time in responding, especially if I don’t want to be misunderstood or misunderstand those around me. Again, this is not an excuse on my part and I genuinely see how bad my wording and commenting was phrased and how it came across. I feel as though I’m being accused of hypocrisy (in the ‘hiding behind a disability’ comment way) when I’m simply stating how my disbalities may affect me and those around me, how I have thought about my actions and the reactions, and am attempting to better myself, yet others are saying that people must deal with their actions because of their disability and that’s what I see as hiding behind a disability. I don’t see how I’m hiding behind a disability at all when I am openly taking responsibility for my actions instead of ignoring the consequences. I massively misunderstood OPs post but that doesn’t make me a horrible very bad no go type of person? But either way, I would like to not dwell on that post for my whole week, as I feel like I can do that enough in my own brain 🫠👍

I will say, I find it still a bit infantilizing of people with tics who cant control them to call them child-like for tics alone. I understand there’s certain instances where there are people who have very severe developmental problems. Maybe much of my reaction was having people in my life tell me that I have to deal with their, for a lack of a better term, ‘problems’ because they’re disabled even though it’s also causing me ‘problems’ and they refused to discuss it in any manner that helps both of us cope instead of just them coping. Honestly, I still find OPs response and original post rather aggressive in wording. Maybe that’s also why I was having trouble making myself read and reread the post. I felt a group I was apart of was being misrepresented and I got defensive in a way, and again it’s not an excuse, but it’s good to understand how you react and to better yourself from there. But not everyone can. But can’t someone who can articulate such a concept as OP did be somewhat introspective? Again, my main problem was it felt like OP (from how I first took the post) was saying that disabled adults are child-like because of certain behaviors hence hating children for those certain behaviors means you’re ableist to disabled adults. I don’t think I’m wrong for being upset over that sentiment, but I think I’m wrong for not ensuring I fully understood the post before replying and replying in such the way that I did. The things I said weren’t perfectly worded nor were they nice in any way. I find it hard to accept that I have been mean in the past but everyone has that, right? And I have to accept I have been mean and need to process and understand it, and I think I’m really getting there.

I don’t find a disability an excuse to not be introspective, but of course there are that set of disabled adults who genuinely cannot and I’m not trying to say people that can’t need to or have to. There’s a clear difference there that we both see and understand. I find it a strange line to tread. Maybe I’m not ready exactly to talk about such a complex issue because of my reactions and knowing how I’ll react if people act volatile to me if I misunderstand or misrepresent my ideologies.

I don’t find that you should be mean or aggressive to others for the sake of being that way or as an excused reaction to how you feel. And I did that and I am wrong for it. Yet I keep getting replies that are telling me I’m awful for a mistake I’m attempting to be introspective for and adjust my behavior and beliefs to rectify my interactions with others. I didn’t want drama, nor did I intend to hurt anyone. I understand I did do those things. Everyone has been wonderful in telling me why exactly I’m wrong, but I truly believe there’s no superiority morality to be mean to someone even who was in the wrong and especially be mean to someone who is saying they’re trying to change based on an incorrect action and explaining why.

I believe as a human being, disabled or not, we should be willing to work with those around us to find the best situation for everyone to feel comfortable when we are able to. Yeah, some people can’t or the situation might be more complex, but again, that’s not what I was trying to get at and I totally understand how I misworded and overreacted. That was a bad interaction. Not a bad person.

P.S. Sorry if there’s any confusion to what I said. I definitely overthought my wording a lot and went back to rewrite stuff again and again the best I could, that’s why it’s so long 😭 It’s just feeling like instead of working with me to better myself I’m just kinda getting yelled at? Which is probably my brain freaking out but hey. I need to be able to talk to others, especially about serious topics, without just folding to anxiety about being the worst person there is for literally every action I do and agreeing with anything presented to me with authority and aggression. I am a person and I might be wrong at times and that’s okay. I’d like to learn and better myself. :(

[milyaaurfa]

Sudah lama tidak; catatan sebuah interview dari yang memaknai pencapaian ke-ilmu-an lebih dalam lagi.

The reason why you are stuck in the “shallow” realm of the map of meaning.

The way he seeks a deeper significance in everything he does.

Does about three hours of focused work. He might think about a math problem, or prepare to lecture a classroom of students, or schedule doctor’s appointments for his two sons. “Then I’m exhausted,” he said. “Doing something that’s valuable, meaningful, creative”.

For a few months in the spring of 2019, all he did was read. “Which means I didn’t do any work,”.

He’s since made peace with this constraint, though. “I used to try to resist … but I finally learned to give up to those temptations.” As a consequence, “I became better and better at ignoring deadlines.”

He finds that forcing himself to do something or defining a specific goal — even for something he enjoys — never works.

He found the writing process too focused on the self — and for him, that exploration was often painful and depressing.

The act of trying to do something no one really knew how to do — and the freedom that came with not knowing, the surprises that became possible.

This kind of mathematics could give him what poetry could not: the ability to search for beauty outside himself, to try to grasp something external, objective and true, in a way that opened him up more than writing ever had. “You don’t think about your small self,” he said. “There’s no place for ego.”

Cherished his experiences in graduate school. He was able to dedicate himself wholly to math, and he relished the freedom of exploration that had drawn him to the subject in the first place.

His talks at conferences were always accessible and concrete; in speaking with him, it was clear that he was thinking both deeply and broadly about the concepts he was working with.

“He was ridiculously mature for a graduate student,” said other.

He already had a program in mind, and ideas about how to pursue it.

Many of his collaborators note that he’s incredibly humble and down-to-earth.

In Matroid topic. The work showed that “you don’t need space to do geometry,” he said. “That made me really fundamentally rethink what geometry is.” It would also guide him toward a host of other problems, where he continued to push that idea further, allowing him to develop an even broader range of methods.

He speaks slowly, pausing often and choosing his words carefully, and carries himself in a calm, peaceful manner that borders on meditative.

“He doesn’t get so easily excited,” said other.

He proceeds just as deliberately when doing mathematics.

“He likes to do things in the right way,” said other.

For instance of solving a problem. He said they should take some more time to find a cleaner, more appealing approach. He thought there was a nicer explanation out there, and that it was best not to rush things.

He’s entire life is built on routine. “Almost all of my days are exactly the same,” he said. “I have a very high tolerance for repetition.”

He often works in the public library, in the children’s section, where it’s pretty noisy. “I don’t like quiet places,” he said. “It makes me sleepy.”

He lived off frozen pizza for months at a time because he didn’t want to deal with getting groceries and cooking. He just wanted to do math. He describes that period of his life as “almost monastic.”

Later that year, her wife gave birth to their first son. While in labor, she caught he doing math.

“My wife is a much more balanced person than I am,” he said. “Life has very many facets, and math is a very, very, very tiny part of it.”

“I’m a real worker,” his wife said. “He is a thinker.”

When he is working, there’s something almost subconscious going on. In fact, he usually can’t trace how or when his ideas come to him. He doesn’t have sudden flashes of insight. Instead, “at some point, you just realize, oh, I know this,” he said. Maybe last week, he didn’t understand something, but now, without any additional input, the pieces have clicked into place without his realizing it. He likens it to the way your mind can surprise you and create unexpected connections when you’re dreaming.

“And it’s nice to admit that we don’t know what’s going on.”

He hopes to continue uncovering unexpected connections between different areas of math.

When asked if he’d ever entertain the earlier version of his artist self and try writing poetry again, he shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t know,” he said. “I’m very much into something else.”

I’m very much into something else :)

[gothwives]

should they stop and take a second to actually think about what they were doing, winnie and jude may have had the foresight to put their antics on pause until they could go somewhere more private, or at least relocate to a more secluded area of the library. there was no time to pause, though, she was too frantic to let him go, and she felt as though she might simply explode if they parted ways. a pause might just give jude the opportunity to rethink this whole thing, able to see more clearly without being distracted by her desperate plea to get closer to him, deciding once and for all that it wouldn’t work, and she couldn't have that. clearly they couldn’t even be around each other without abandoning all semblance of self control and becoming feral, they simply brought out the strongest passion in each other. he was reminding her of all she’d been missing that past week, the attention she’d quickly become addicted to, and it made her long to spend every second of everyday with him. no amount of time together would’ve been enough. her breath hitched as she felt his fingertips grazing against the flesh of her thigh, pausing her kisses to his neck to gently sink her teeth into the tender skin, struggling to pay attention to his directions with the way he’d begun to let his hand snake up her skirt. the entire surface of her body felt feverish and hot to the touch even as he brought her attention back to the poor man waiting for her out there on the lawn, probably wondering where she’d gone off to, with no idea their town’s priest currently had his hand down her panties. the thought of having to waste her precious time entertaining todd would’ve made her groan in frustration had she not been so eager to be touched, instead whimpering at his rough fingers teasing at her needy pussy. she was practically panting against his neck, lips smushed against his skin whenever she took a break from kissing it, her hips shifting forward in a greedy attempt to get more stimulation. how she would be able to stomach even one more date with the younger man when she knew she could be spending her time with someone so much more skilled, someone who knew exactly how to touch her without her even having to ask, winnie didn’t know, but the idea of being able to come back to him every night and be taken care of would make suffering through another story about todd’s high school baseball days worth it. she hadn’t even thought jude was capable of such a devious plot, and, surprisingly, the concept kind of turned her on. the sneaking around, the deception, the thrill of harboring a secret. or maybe it was just the suggestion combined with his finger barely ghosting over her clit, withholding the pleasure she desperately craved as he waited for her compliance. “yes father,” she agreed almost immediately, lifting her head to regard him with her pleading gaze. “yes, i can… i can do it.” her performance with todd may not end up being oscar worthy, but she doubted he’d even be cognizant of her lack of enthusiasm. all she had to do was show up, smile and nod along, and he’d be totally fooled. it may have seemed cruel to string him along when winnie had no intention of ever truly being with him, but it was necessary to keep up appearances and divert anyone’s suspicions away from what was really going on. one day she and jude would be able to be together without having to hide their love, and until then they’d just have to get crafty. “please touch me…” her lower lip trembled from the weight of her need, letting a hand of her own slip between their bodies to press her palm to the crotch of his pants, trying to entice him to go further by appealing to his own desires. / @splintcred

it was one thing to have fucked when the likelihood of anyone else showing up was slim, there had still been the possibility but winnie's arrival alone had surprised jude so he had been pretty certain he wasn't going to get any other visitors that night; this, however, was much different. it was the middle of the day, multiple people had seen them together and would be wondering where they had wandered off to, and the library wasn't exactly the most private of all places. still, as winnie hands made their way back into his hair and she whispered her request so politely in his ear, it was just as hard as it had been before to refuse her, even with all the reasons making it a less-than smart idea. after thinking that he was never going to be allowed the chance to touch her again, he was eager to feed his hunger and make up for lost time in whatever way he could. the hand on her waist crept down slowly to dance beneath the edge of her skirt's hemline, his fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her thighs as he took a moment to savour the feeling of her lips skimming across his jaw and neck. "here's what we're going to do." his hand began to rise higher, slipping fully underneath winnie's skirt and towards her cutesy cotton panties he'd spent more time than he'd ever admit to fantasizing about. "you're going to keep going on these silly little dates with todd, you'll keep listening to his dull stories and laughing at his jokes, whatever you need to do to keep him around but you aren't going to let him touch you." as he spoke, jude's fingers slipped past the barrier of her panties and once again was met with her cunt warm and wettening for him. "if he tries, tell him that you want to wait, that god wouldn't want you to before marriage, then send him on his way and come see me so i can be the one to take care of your needs." todd didn't even deserve to try, he'd make a mockery out of it and winnie only deserved to be touched by someone who understood exactly how precious she was, someone he knew what she liked and what she needed. in an ideal world they wouldn't have needed him at all but it would keep people's curiosity away from them, and jude knew he could stomach seeing the pair together if he knew that it would be him who winnie returned to at the end of the day. he'd never thought of himself as a particularly sneaky person, always trying to be as honest as possible but this was yet another one of those pesky necessary evils, love had been bestowed upon them and while the circumstances weren't ideal, they had to make the best of a tricky situation. "can you do that, winnie? for us?" he ghosted the tip of his finger across her clit, barely making contact with it as he waited for a response. not that he needed one, he was giving winnie everything she wanted so of course she'd happily comply with anything he told her to do, especially he held her pleasure so pricuriously perched on the tip of his finger.

[jcllyfisn]

infcrtunii replied 

/ idk whf made u think that ollie -my dear my darLING MY ADORATION -is not interesting, but i’ll fight them to death *fight emoji >:C*

mik. it was me. i made myself think like this. 

[marvelmaniac2000]

II Movie Goers II

Summary: Eddie flirting and hitting on you at your job...

Characters: Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, Steve Harrington 

Subject:  Pure Fluff, mentions of sex, flirting, 

*****Sorry for any Misspelling/Grammar****

Side notes: I’m starting to realize the more that I write smuts about Eddie and rewatch stranger things again, I’ve realized that he's super sweet and probably do more softcore sex and affection even tho ya this writer like that hardcore smut material ….

  🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

 “So tomorrow I think I’m going to go ahead and just tell her how I feel you know? What good does it do dating someone that I really don’t see myself long term?” Steve kept rambling on about his lame relationship with you. This was his third girlfriend this week and he doesn’t seem to understand the concept of being “single” for once in his life. 

  You collect all the movie tapes from the drop-off cubby hole and proceed to check them into the computer system. “You truly want to know what I think Harrington? I think you should take a break. Smell the fresh air and dead roses laying around Hawkins” you press a couple of keys on the computer screen. 

“That doesn’t make any sense…I know how to be alone, I know myself” he trailed off his sentence rethinking the statement out loud. 

“Aha” you pointed at him to prove your point. “Bingo I’m right again. I’m not saying you shouldn’t date other girls Harrington, all I’m suggesting..keyword suggesting that you try to understand a little bit more about yourself and also know why you can’t stop being a man whore” you shook your head.

  The front door bell jingle to greet another customer in. “Well look who the devil dragged in” Steve looked at Eddie up and down examining this rare sight. 

“I know walking in the midst of you bottom feeders isn’t my forte but I like to catch some flics every now and again” his dark hair frame between him and his long fingers carefully rested on the counter. 

“Well, what title are you looking for?” Steve noticed Eddie’s eyes glued to you with your back still turned to him.  

“I’ve seen this movie about a thousand times and I just can’t seem to forget how amazing it was” he tilted his chin over to your direction. “Ahh I see” Steve turned and called out your name. 

You turn and freeze up seeing an all-familiar face. “This lovely customer needs your assistance” Steve joked before patting you on the shoulder and left you two alone at the counter. 

“You look even better in uniform...” Eddie rested his chin on his palm soaking in your features. 

“Thank you, did you really come to check out a movie?” you pulled on your vest trying to seem cool. 

“Nawh not really I hope maybe you can help me with that. I heard you’re the guru of all movies” you pierced your lips together to hide your smile from him. 

“Well I don’t like to brag but I know some good material, have you seen sixteen candles yet?” 

“I have actually, you’ll be surprised what type of movies I like watching, sometimes romance is what the heart desires or need” he reached over the counter and took the pencil out of the can next to you. . 

“You got a piece of paper (y/n)?” You reach below the counter and handed him a piece of notebook paper. 

“I really like you and I want to take you out sometime …sooo” he wrote a number down and slide it back over to you. 

“Call me” his voice sounded like sex to your ears hearing him speak your name. 

“It’s up to you, If not no hard feelings against the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins” he picked up your hand and place a kiss on it.

 “I’ll see you later” he backed away and stopped midway through the door. “Oh, by the way, happy sixteenth birthday” he smirked before leaving out the door. 

[mc-lukanette]

Omg I am loving your dreaded string of fate au this is such an interesting take! As always your writing and ideas absolutely amaze me You are such a wonderful writer! If it isnt too much of a bother could we get some more writing for dsaf? Either way I hope you are staying safe, taking care of yourself, and that overall life is doing you good.

Thanks, everyone! And sure, you can have more!!

—————

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Luka wasn't sure why Marinette had called him over that day. As far as he knew, she was busy with projects, though he wouldn't complain about spending some time with her.

Still, he found himself tensing and steeling himself up as he walked up the stairs to her living room. The hum of her sewing machine could be heard as he got closer, reminding him of clothes, which led to the thought of thread, which then brought his mind to the red string of fate wrapped around her neck. His last venture as Viperion seemed to have improved his sensing, so now he could see someone's red string even if the person on the other end wasn't nearby.

Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it with Marinette.

He closed the living room door behind him, then went up the staircase, knocking to let Marinette know he was there. The sound of the sewing machine stopped, and he heard her footsteps come closer followed by the slight creak of the trapdoor.

Marinette's face was revealed to him, offering him a smile, and Luka tried not to stare too much at the red string still tied around her neck. He swallowed, but smiled back at her, which was genuine enough even if he was uncomfortable.

"Come on up," she welcomed, holding the trapdoor up for him. He nodded and walked up the rest of the stairs, hearing the trapdoor close behind him as he took a look around the room. He felt Marinette's eyes on him, but she voiced her thoughts before he could wonder about them.

"You didn't bring your guitar?" she asked.

He glanced at his back, then at her, having no way of telling her the real reason why he'd chosen not to bring it. "Yeah, I didn't. Sorry, did you want me to play for you?"

"Oh! No, it's okay—I mean, of course I love it when you play for me so I always want—but I understand!" She thankfully dropped the subject there, turning away to return to her seat. "You can make yourself at home or help yourself to the fridge downstairs if you want anything!"

"Thanks," he said with a smile, heading over to her chaise lounge and taking a seat on it. Even with Marinette's chair turned away from him while she used her sewing machine, he could still see the red string dangling off the side, though it faded into full transparency before it hit the floor.

In truth, he'd left his guitar behind to force himself to use less music and more words. He didn't want to hide behind it to try and ease his situation or make himself more comfortable with everything. The situation the love of his life - and more importantly, his friend - had gotten into through no fault of her own was horrible, and no matter how uncomfortable he was, he couldn't have been any more uncomfortable than her being strangled by fate itself.

He watched her, waiting for a lull in her work to ask, "Did you need anything?"

"Hm?" She looked over her chair to meet his gaze.

"I'm happy to be here anyway, but I didn't know if you needed me for something," he clarified.

"Oh." She understood. Waving a hand dismissively, she assured, "No! I just invited you here to hang out—" She gestured to her sewing machine, her eyes a bit shifty. "—with me, while I was busy but totally happy and relaxed and everything!"

Her wording was inherently suspicious. His eyes scanned over the room, noting the projects littered about that seemed so plentiful. He supposed he hadn't exactly been subtle in his concern for her, but he wasn't sure of exactly what tipped her off or made her feel like she had to "prove" her happiness to him.

Besides, he knew better, and he knew her. Even with the smile she gave him, her brows were furrowed and twitching, a tiredness to her eyes that definitely didn't show what he would call "happiness."

He gave her a nod anyway, not wanting to call her out when he was still piecing things together himself, and he didn't want to confirm her worries if she was merely suspecting that he felt that way.

He leaned back while she returned to working, his hand on the cushion underneath him as he considered what to say. If Sass was right in his beliefs, then Luka indeed had the power to change Marinette's fate, though there wasn't any specific method of how. He thought back to all of their conversations, wondering what he would've done differently if he'd known beforehand and trying not to get bogged down by "what if"s or blame himself for it.

He stared silently at the back of Marinette's head, remembering the day at the ice rink when he saw the same thing. She'd been running away, or more specifically running towards Adrien after he'd encouraged her to do so. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but from what he gathered from interactions he'd either seen or heard about, it hadn't gone anywhere. Maybe it hadn't even gone well at all.

Maybe he'd made a mistake?

Luka's mind grew heavy with the thoughts, his body falling back to lay down on Marinette's chaise. He didn't regret doing what he felt was right, but now he wondered if his wording could've been better.

"You should probably go over and talk to him."

He hadn't exactly been thinking at the time - a lot had happened that day - but he noted that he could've asked her how she felt. He could've questioned her on if she really wanted to go after Adrien. It was possible she'd wanted to go home on the subway with him, but was convinced to chase Adrien when he brought it up. Luka just imagined Marinette seeing Adrien and Kagami together, the red string tightening around her neck and then loosening when she was presented with the prospect of going after him.

He felt like he was the one being strangled, just thinking about it.

"Luka?"

He looked up, surprised, seeing that Marinette had stopped sewing at some point and had come to sit on the chaise lounge with him. She hovered over him, concern written across her features and the red string taunting him with its mere existence. Luka knew by now that she was very worried about him, and trying to wriggle or half-lie out of it wasn't going to convince her. He'd just really thought that she would've been sewing for longer.

He also jolted up into a sitting position upon realizing that he probably looked like he was making himself too comfy on her chaise lounge. She didn't seem to mind at least.

"...Marinette," he said slowly, trying to put his thoughts in order. She leaned closer as a sign that she was giving him her attention, and he continued, "Do you know why I let you go that day?"

She tilted her head and he belatedly caught that he hadn't been specific, still too lost in his own head. He opened his mouth to clarify, but realization struck Marinette before he could speak, her brows raising in recognition.

"Oh!" she gasped. Though the conversation was sudden, she didn't seem to mind rolling with it. "Um, yeah, I wondered about that sometimes. I mean, I knew that you knew that I—but I didn't know that you—but if you didn't back then, I—"

"No, your song was definitely in my head, even back then," he confirmed casually, smiling as he added, "Since the day we met, remember?"

She blushed at the mention of his confession, but nodded. "Y-yeah." Then, seeming to rethink the moment with that information in mind, she asked, "...Why did you let me go then?"

His eyes flickered to the red string, then back up to her face. "I want you to be happy, Marinette, no matter who it's with. I thought that Adrien would do that, but I hope I didn't make you feel like you had to go after him."

She blinked, the thought having seemingly not even occurred to her. She averted her gaze, her eyes darting around at nothing in particular. "Is...is that why you were looking like that?"

He didn't answer, but that was answer enough for her.

"Oh, Luka," she murmured sympathetically. "I—well—" She shifted uncomfortably. "—I shouldn't be talking to you about this. It'd be wrong when my feelings are so messed up. You..."

He shook his head. "You can talk about Adrien if you want. I'd be happy if you relied on me more."

He meant it. Even regardless of his fate sensing, he wanted Marinette to feel comfortable talking to him, even if it was about her love problems. He didn't want their relationship to be changed because of his feelings for her.

"Even more?" She raised a brow, the concept confusing her, but she didn't question him further. She hesitated, rubbing her cheek in thought, then dropped her hands to her lap and twiddled her fingers. "I-I don't know; about Adrien, I mean. I—" She sighed, giving a halfhearted shrug. "—he's not interested in me. He likes Kagami, but the girls kept telling me that I shouldn't give up on him because of how hard I tried." Then, stiffening, she waved her hands and rapidly assured, "N-not anything against your sister, of course! That's just what happened—and—" She huffed in frustration. "—it feels like I hit a wall, and I'm not going anywhere. Adrien doesn't notice me and I can't talk to him and... I'm tired."

Luka nodded silently to let her know that he was both listening and sympathetic towards her plight, also not wanting to interrupt her.

"Of course I tried hard, but Adrien and Kagami seem like they're good for each other and they should be happy together. Just, whenever I think of giving up or not trying, I..." She raised a hand to her neck in a gesture that he immediately understood. "It hurts, and Alya's always trying to get me together with Adrien no matter what I say. Maybe she knows best and maybe she's right, and that's why I always end up in crazy situations with him. Plus, everyone..." She looked away, her voice not having the enthusiasm one would imagine her next words would go with. "...everyone keeps saying we're made for each other."

Luka clutched his leg to ground himself while struggling to keep a straight face. He'd certainly never heard that one before, but it stung like his neck did just thinking about it. His lips pressed together, trying to contain his emotions, but he couldn't help blurting out, "No one's made for anyone."

She blinked at him, shocked, but he didn't take it back or apologize for saying it so suddenly. He recognized the fact that he was talking about destined love being nonexistent when he himself knew that "fate" was very much a real thing, but his actual opinion on the subject hadn't changed. As far as he was concerned, fate's "opinion" was about as valid as anyone else's when it came to someone else's relationship.

"No matter what Alya, or even Rose, say about you and who you love, Marinette, all that matters is you and who you want to play for. You deserve someone who makes you happy." He paused, lamenting the reality that she really hadn't gotten to think about it. "Does Adrien make you happy?"

He saw the string tighten, Marinette opening her mouth to respond before she seemed to stop herself. He felt like apologizing, but knew she wouldn't understand even if he did. She frowned, staring down at her lap and appearing conflicted with herself, so he reached out and carefully hovered his hand over her shoulder in a show of comfort. She glanced at his hand, noticing the gesture, but didn't immediately give him any sort of permission.

Then, to his surprise, she brought her hand up, gently grabbing his wrist and lowering it so his hand was placed perfectly on her shoulder. She didn't even let go, keeping his wrist held like she needed his hand there.

"...Luka," she whispered, her voice shaking, "I—no, you'll laugh, or think I'm crazy."

He squeezed her shoulder, not hesitating to insist, "I won't. I'm here for you, Marinette."

She finally met his gaze, and he saw a vulnerability there that wasn't there before. She was nervous, whether of his potential reaction to whatever she had to say, or something else entirely.

She took a breath, her fingers tightening around his wrist as she composed herself. The silence stretched, though he could tell that she was steeling herself up.

"The—the Adrien pictures," she began, tossing a pointed look to the wall where they were. "I don't remember putting them there."

He kept his expression schooled, not wanting her to overthink his reactions. Careful and quiet, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I-I mean, obviously I started putting them there, back when I first met him," she admitted, "but I took them down. They'd been down for a while."

Luka could confirm that. He'd been to Marinette's room before when she'd been sending in their Kitty Section audition to Bob Roth, and the pictures weren’t there.

She continued, "I-it hurt when I did it, but I did, and I threw most of them away. But then—when I wake up sometimes, they're back, and I don't remember putting them up. I-I mean, maybe I did but I just don't remember it? I stay up late sometimes and I won't remember falling asleep, so it might be like that, you know? I-I know you're not exactly like me and I'm sure you don't sleepily put pictures on your wall but..."

He smiled as best as he could, even though he was hurting inside. "I know as well as you do that creativity doesn't have a schedule."

She managed a smile in return, but it returned to a frown as she dropped her gaze to her lap. "A-anyway, I can forget things, but it's never been that bad, and sometimes they'll be gone for a while but then they'll be back a few days later. There's just—there's no other explanation, so it has to be me, right? I-I don't know if it's a sign or what, but if it is then I don't know what it's telling me? Because whenever there are a lot of pictures—" She made a vague gesture with a wave of her free hand, cringing as she added, "—something humiliating always happens. That usually gets me to take them down again, but then... well, you know." She rubbed the back of her neck with a hand, blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy. I-I swear, I'm not trying to—"

"I believe you."

Her mouth halted mid-sentence, hanging open as she stared at him.

"I believe you, Marinette," he repeated, giving her shoulder another squeeze. He didn't need any further detail to know what happened, as there was no way Marinette would take down those pictures and then put them back up the next day, or even the day before that. It didn't make any sense, and while he hadn't seen the wisps of fate move things or brush them aside, he had seen them trip Marinette, meaning they had some level of physical control. It explained it all: the convenience of the pictures appearing and disappearing, as well as the amount of them there'd be.

"T-thank you," she murmured, her lips briefly moving to form extra words but nothing coming out. She looked shy, possibly from admitting something she hadn't told anyone before, but she at least wasn't so nervous anymore.

"You don't need to thank me," he assured, "but you're welcome. Just know that you can tell me anything."

She ducked her head, peeking up at him to ask, "How much do you want to know?"

"Whatever you're comfortable sharing with me," he replied.

"Everything?" She'd said it quickly, as if she'd blurted it out, but she didn't panic afterward. She merely looked at him, hope in her eyes.

He nodded without hesitation, wanting her to be certain that he meant it. She searched his gaze for a few more seconds, one last shred of doubt remaining, but he knew he'd convinced her when her body relaxed and she smiled at him with her whole heart. Her grip on his wrist lightened, her hand sliding off and back down to her side. He pulled back as well, his heart a mixture of emotions but mostly just happy to see her happy.

"I..." She turned away, facing her trapdoor. "I'm going to get some snacks first."

He watched as she pushed herself up, then stood as well to follow after her. "Do you want any help carrying them?"

She looked at him, confused. "You don't have to."

Instead of responding with the obvious - that he wanted to - he simply replied, "You're not alone anymore, Marinette."

He didn't need to elaborate for her to understand. He let himself get lost in the warmth of her gaze, hoping that he might see it more one day if he could ever get her string removed, even if her warm gaze would end up being for someone else.

[emotionlcss]

fillyoursoulxx​:

Okay. A simple word for a simple concept. No questions. Should have brought him more pleasure. Or at least been satisfying but the constant buzz of frustration was still there, sparking along his surface like a damaged wire in a puddle. There was no winning for either of them. No matter what she said or he said or either of them did.

And that stench. That god forsaken stench would only get worse. It made his stomach knot knowing that the less afraid he tried to make her, the more she’d be. Least this way he could get some sort of reset. Maybe enough to rethink this nightmare of a scenario.

“I’m gonna release you a bit,” he said softly, lips traveling to kiss behind her ear and down the exposed flesh of her neck. His concentrated, only truly aware of how weak he actually was when he began to draw his aura in. It wasn’t much, she’d still be shaky and her legs would be too feeble to carry her anywhere, but he hoped allowing some movement would help, “There. How’s that?” he asked, raking blunt nails along the inside of her thighs, hot breath still against her neck, “You feel that?”

sutton hadn’t been sure of what to expect, maybe this would ease her nerves, or maybe it would prove to her that she did know him - even if she couldn’t remember it right now. or maybe, if we she was lucky, it would ease her fear a little bit. there was no telling for her right now, in this moment how it would go - so all she could do was hope that by giving in to what he wanted that it would work out in her favor.

a short, and small nod had fallen from the girl when he said he was going to release her a bit, and she wasn’t sure what that meant but she could only hope that it was a good thing. as his lips were moving down her neck, she could feel that she was starting to get more feeling into her limbs. her fingers had began to move, tapping against the mattress, which was more than she was able to do before. it was almost as if the more of his body that came into contact with her, the more feeling she was getting back.

❝ mhm. ❞ sutton spoke, her legs. slowly parting more as she felt his hands moving up farther against her thighs. her breathing was still shallow, still trying to take this in - but she hadn’t wanted to run anymore. maybe she was getting comfortable, or maybe this was just something she’d wanted. it had taken a lot of concentration, but sutton was finally able to pick up her arm - it felt heavy in this moment but at least she knew she could use it. bringing it up, her hand had rested against the back of his neck, fingers running into his hair, as if to keep him in place, and keep his lips against her neck. ❝ yeah....yeah i can feel it. ❞ 

[glowingbadger]

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

~

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

~

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.