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ilikekidsshows · 2 days ago

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Actually, yeah, that's clearly the difference between how I view Marinette's social-emotional skills and what others are saying: I think Marinette had poor social-emotional skills even before the retool.

The way I see it, Marinette has always acted like a coddled teen. There’s a reason so many of my examples of Marinette’s parents came from the pre-retool show, and why my description of Marinette as someone who can't handle stress, can't handle setbacks and considers her problems the most important problems, no matter how minor applies to Marinette's original characterization as well as the retooled Marinette.

Marinette used to do almost all of the stuff she does now, but to a lesser extent and she used to make up for it afterwards. Teenagers lean towards self-centeredness because their sense of self and identity is going through rapid development, but Marinette has always been very single-minded about this, and her poor skills in relating to others make her easily trample on other people's feelings. Of course, part of this was the original show's format of wanting to teach a lesson through Marinette's mistakes, but that's exactly what makes her relatable to kids with poor social-emotional skills; she's also learning.

Basically, being too preoccupied with herself has always been a weakness of Marinette’s; she has to see another person get upset before she realizes she did something to hurt them. The difference is that, before the retool, Marinette used to realize that she should make up for what she did wrong and then did so. After the retool Marinette’s reaction to her mistakes is to double down, make excuses or cry about what a terrible person she is and how bad she feels until she gets vindicated. The change in Marinette's character is in how much she thinks she should take responsibility for her mistakes.

Ever since the beginning, Marinette's gotten constant praise as Ladybug; everyone always tells her she’s the best, did everything right and is always correct about everything. At worst, her actions lead to “different consequences”. In addition to this, she has all the power and control in the hero team dynamics, making everyone else inferior to her. This has clearly gone to her head, so now she no longer sees her own mistakes as mistakes, because she’s the greatest Ladybug ever who can do no wrong and everyone else is just a pawn in her great master plans. She has no sense of accountability. She will over-blame herself when she gets caught messing up royally, but only until someone absolves her of guilt and then she takes no steps to avoid making that same mistake in the future, because she wasn't really at fault, she was told she wasn't.

Consider the Kagami bullying arc. In 'Ikari Gozen', Marinette accepts she was wrong about Kagami and had no right to interfere with her the way she did. She does go back to it briefly in 'Love Hunter' in a moment of weakness, but overall she accepts that sabotaging Kagami isn't right. If this story had happened post-retool, I have no doubt the conclusion to 'Ikari Gozen' would have been Marinette crying about how she's a horrible person and as bad as Chloé to Kagami, with Kagami saying something like: "You are much kinder than Chloé. You just love Adrien. In fact, clearly your love for Adrien is much deeper and purer than mine. I will gladly step down so that you can be with your soulmate."

Post-retool Marinette can’t be wrong about anything, so she never really accepts fault. She makes a big deal about how bad she feels, but only to people who will instantly appease, comfort and forgive her, and she never makes up for what she did wrong or even tries to avoid making the same mistakes. And that’s what makes her previously acceptable and understandable personal weaknesses into absolutely grating character flaws. The somewhat-coddled normal girl is now a spoiled brat and a terror boss, not because she lost her social skills, but because she lost her sense of accountability.

It's very ironic. The girl who whines about how she has too many responsibilities and she can't handle it accepts no responsibility for her own actions.

This is a longer one, sorry 😅

About that ask you replied to about Marinette's parents. I didn't grow up in a healthy household and i struggle to form a properly informed opinion on Marinette's parents in all this mess.

Cause clearly they are very loving, caring, and supportive, but they aren't perfect either. They are realistically human. They have blind spots, didnt actually RAISE her apparently when she does things wrong, and hardly give Marinette any boundaries or consequences to face, which now evolved into her neither being able to handle anything not going her way nor having to actually take people into consideration and go through with improving on the things she said she should.

Im pretty sure Marinette was a very friendly child who didn't cause too many problems, if at all, so now that she's a complicated teenager who actually needs some boundaries and discipline they dont know how to handle it. Thats the picture im getting. Not to mention that they don't know Marinette is Ladybug so they have no idea what's caused all these extreme changes in their daughter and how to accommodate to properly help her.

But in my eyes, without the whole Ladybug thing, this is still a pretty normal and realistic portrayal of a modern family, so Marinette is simply a normal ass kid. She's clearly spoiled to a solid degree and emotionally shielded the way most middle class kids from central Europe are. Just because her family isn't perfect doesn't it mean she's being abused or her parents are bad. For me, they are a realistic healthy family. Whatever faults her parents have are pretty common things parents do wrong.

But this now raises the question for me how exactly to go about Marinette's family. Obviously her parents didn't to everything right in their parenting, so those flaws of Marinette can be traced back to them while Marinette at the same time SHOULD normally STILL be asked to grow out of it the way any normal teenager should, it's just slightly more challenging.

But then I see discussions that take it way too far imo but I don't know where exactly to draw the line.

It is correct that Tom and Sabine for example seem to know very little about their daughter's friend group to the point that they just let Sabrina into Marinette's room. The common argument I see being raised here is that Sabine is neglective because she doesn't know that Sabrina isn't Marinette's friend.

Now this doesn't feel quite right to me. Marinette's parents seem to be pretty much unaware that their daughter was bullied in school which unfortunately isn't at all uncommon. When the parents are neither told by the child or the school, then how are they supposed to know? The most they seem to know is that Marinette has a hard time with Chloé, but I never had the impression that they know how serious this was. Marinette sure was never shown to ever voice any of that.

So Sabine thinking Sabrina is Marinette's friend is a fair enough assumption in my eyes. I remember back when I was 12-13, forming friendship in a collective class is alot easier when you're a kid. Kids just go with the flow like that and become friends in 10 seconds even if they aren't spending much time with each other directly. Forming connections tends gets more difficult as one grows older.

I don't think at that age parents can be faulted for not keeping track of all their kid's friendships. Sabrina running up to Sabine and claiming she's Marinette's friend and Sabine believing her is honestly nothing too special.

What I take issue with, though, is that Sabine just let Sabrina go into Marinette's room ALONE. That a parent, imo, truly shouldn't do.

And yet, one still wouldn't call her a BAD parent for that, right? It's very flawed, but obviously Marinette also continues to rely on her parents doing that with the amount of times Alya just gets to come and go however she please, even with Marinette not being there, despite Marinette knowing Alya merely year at this point. Way less than Sabrina for example.

There is this persistent grey area here that I can't quite place. Marinette's parents are very obviously very trusting, but the way the show portrays it seems to border on neglective imo, but it's based in their daughter just getting free reign most of the time so Marinette can do shit in her room and leave for long periods of time for example that parents should normally check on their kids for.

So, at the same time, is it actually neglect? Thanks to being Ladybug, it is Marinette who has pulled more and more away from her parents and since season 4 is doing so to honestly very unnecessary degrees. There is little reason for why Marinette constantly locks herself and Alya into her room and doesn't spend much time with her parents when all that Marinette is doing in there is panicking and not doing something actually productive most of the time anyway. You may as well just spend time with your parents instead of crying to Alya that you supposedly CANT (while taking over Alya's life and being the actual reason why SHE cant)

Teenagers at Marinette's age starting to pull away from their parents is nothing uncommon. So I'm pretty sure that's just how it looks like for her parents. Marinette is starting to grow up and doesn't prioritize spending time or sharing her life with them as much anymore.

Can't pretend like that's not a sad truth parents have to deal with, so the kid's friends are trusted by the parents to know their kid in ways they don't anymore.

Marinette has very loving and caring parents who don't push her to involve them or share what she doesn't want to. Now here is the question. While this is neglective to a degree and Marinette does seem to be affected badly by it, is this necessarily something her parents are doing objectively WRONG? From their perspective, their daughter is growing up and so busy that they aren't much of a priority in her life. She's pulling more and more away and her parents try to adjust to that supportively without being given context as any parent must.

Clearly the created distance has Marinette now incorrectly believe that her parents aren't actually a real support system anymore, the way Marinette didnt even try to reach out in Kwamis Choice and her thinking she has lost EVERYTHING at the end of season 4 and then proceeding to act like she doesn't think she truly has anyone or anything in season 5 too.

Now, is Marinette thinking that she has NOTHING at the end of season 4, and still seeming to think so in season 5, something her parents failed at teaching her better?

When a kid starts pulling away from their supportive family, because they are so used to having them, and ends up convincing themselves that their parents dont count anymore as support because it isnt as perfect and easy as they'd like, is this a failure of the parents for not sitting their child down to remind them that the kid isn't the emotional equivalent of an orphan now the moment they have to do something alone?

Or is this simply a normal thing a teenager has to realize on their own? That just because the loving parents aren't a perfect support system anymore, doesn't it mean the kid just gets to disregard them fully as an option the way Marinette constantly does?

Because, well, this IS what it constantly feels like for me when it comes to Marinette.

When Marinette takes offense with her parents not unconditionally believing her all the time, is it really always her parents fault for not having raised her to handle push back better, or is it also just a natural part of growing up that you have to get over yourself and realize that your parents too need context for the situations you're in (e.g. Adoration) because growing up means you're parents shouldn't just handwave all the accountability away you potentially have to take now because you're not an 8 year old anymore and capable of genuine wrongdoing?

Yes, her parents definitely failed a solid bit in regards of leaving Marinette emotionally immature and unprepared when it comes to pushback, criticism, or considerations of others.

But to what degree are her parents actually WRONG in wanting Marinette to learn it for herself now because that's normally how it done?

Do her parents REALLY have to sit her 14-15 year old ass down and teach her that other people have feelings and lives of their own? That reality exists outside of her head and feelings? Or should a teenager be expected to learn that themselves, especially one that's so busy and involved in everything as Marinette? Cause it actually seems to me that her being Ladybug caused her stunted development in this regard. Because being Ladybug always serves as the right excuse to always demand and expect the others to do the learning cause she's "too stressed" and "too justified as leader who doesn't owe anyone anything, but is owed everything herself cause she says so".

It's seems that it's rather that being Ladybug caused the damage in Marinette's development which her parent can't know about, and not that her parents are particularly failing by not holding their daughter's hand all through growing up even more to spoon-feed her every bit of development she should grow into now to make sure its as pleasant and easy as possible?

In my opinion, from teenage age onwards it's not the parents' job to tell their children at any uncomfortable or challenging occasion what's right and wrong and do all the work in the child's personal development into a young adult. And isn't that what Marinette's parents are being criticised for anyway? That they don't let their daughter face disappointment, discipline, and struggles because it makes her upset? But now they are in the wrong for wanting to have their daughter learn and figure things out in their own, but fully intend on always being there for her in every way when she needs it?

There definitely IS a complicated grey area here where these two parenting styles badly overlapped and caused problems.

Tom and Sabine DO give Marinette way too much free reign cause it badly clashes with how little discipline, rules, boundaries, and consideration she was raised to actually having to oblige to as part of living with other people.

Marinette was not well prepared for the freedom she now has, but looking at it in general, the problem seems much more to be Marinette being Ladybug, and not necessarily that she's a teenager who lacks refined emotional intelligence because she grew up shielded and cuddled. If Marinette had a normal life, she would have some more trouble growing out of it, but it's not like her parents ruined her.

I think it's that Marinette is Ladybug that is to blame here. Because that's how she was put in a position where she learned that she just needs to stomp her foot, scream, cry, or use her titel to make it so that it's always everyone else who has to do the learning and not her. Marinette's concerning entitlement grew through being Ladybug and not tolerating anything but having all the support, resources, and everyone beneath her in the hierarchy who must submit to her will or else she cant function.

Whatever problems her parents caused in her upbringing should have been easy enough to grow out of. It's LADYBUG who stunted that development because Marinette learned that she has the option to just demand that everyone has to cater to her instead. That is not her parents fault, but it always leaves me at the same problem of not knowing how to properly dissect and discuss what blame Tom and Sabine objectively have in this.

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This is a very insightful and interesting essay, Anon. When it comes to Marinette’s parents, it's really hard to call them “bad parents”, because they're really good at many things that come to parenting. They're supportive, they respect Marinette's space and privacy, they believe in her ability to handle herself and Marinette clearly feels safe with them. And you're also right that it's extremely difficult for them to guide Marinette learning social-emotional skills now that she's a willful teenager and wouldn't be receptive to her parents “correcting her behavior” if they even knew there was something to correct.

I also don't think Marinette's parents can see all the issues with Marinette’s conduct. She is a very “easy” child; she's polite, she respects authority and doesn't get into purposeful mischief. She's the exact kind of child adults don't worry about, so they don't have to constantly keep an eye on her. Especially since a lot of her problems come to the forefront as Ladybug, a whole new part of her life her parents aren’t involved in.

The thing here is that 14-year-olds not knowing that other people have feelings or how to deal with disappointments is exactly why early childhood education is now emphasizing the teaching of these skills so much. For a long time, there was a belief that kids learn social-emotional skills naturally and there's no need to purposefully teach them, because kids will “get it” when they're “old enough to understand”. Except that we have now discovered that they don't, in fact, just naturally “get it”. These skills need to be taught in early childhood, starting from simple ideas like “your friend is crying because you took their toy, don’t do that again” and moving up from there. And the only way to teach these things in a purposeful way is to put your small kids with other small kids and let them do small kid things, even if it results in someone ending up crying, especially if someone ends up crying, because learning to deal with your own emotional responses and other people having emotional reactions to your actions is, in fact, an essential life and relationship skill. The theory of mind (the understanding that other people have thoughts and feelings that can differ from your own) is something that preschoolers are expected to learn and should get support in learning if they don't.

I’m saying Marinette should already know this stuff. Her parents and possible kindergarten teacher should have taught her almost a decade ago.

However, I don’t disagree with your assertion that being Ladybug is why these common problems with Marinette’s conduct are such a big issue for her relationships now. Because her upbringing neglected to teach her essential social-emotional skills, and she’s been shoved into a position of not just power, but absolute power where no one is in a position to question her, she’s now a nightmare boss who expects everyone else to be fully committed to making the broken system she’s running run smoothly while she comes up with some nonsense project to keep busy so that she has the excuse to take her frustrations out on everyone beneath her.

If Marinette was just constantly ditching her friends so that she could do something relating to her love quest, I’m pretty sure the most severe, realistic consequences for her friends would just be them thinking she doesn’t want to hang out, feeling bummed and no longer inviting her. Marinette being in a position of leadership both exacerbates her social-emotional ineptitude and makes its consequences more severe, because now they’re facing dangerous situations and the leadership only doesn’t care if they get hurt, but sometimes actively hurts them for the sake of achieving some other goal in the future.

We must consider that Marinette has been Ladybug for only a year, while her parents have raised her since birth. Anything being Ladybug has taught Marinette was learned on the basis her parents gave her. I don’t think this is an either-or situation. Now that she's an independent teenager, of course her parents expect her to pull away, be private and figure things out on her own. What Marinette is doing wrong now is on her, because she's the one taking on all these responsibilities, leaving others in the dark, not consulting anyone who doesn't just appease her and making decisions for others. However, this being her go-to approach shows us that her parents failed her in the past.

I think Marinette's parents are doing everything right for an older child, but I also think they were very out of their depth when Marinette was a small child. She clearly wasn't taught this stuff that has to be taught at an early age because she's now a teenager and seems to have no clue how interpersonal relationships work. Of course she's still too young to understand everything, especially romance, but she lacks basic understanding of mutual friendship as well. It just really feels like Marinette's parents have never had any expectations for her, even when she was a small child throwing a fit when she didn't get her way.

#ml salt #dats chats #long post

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 4 months ago

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Astro Notes : Short N Sweet <3 Neptune's Revenge

Neptune 1st House - Popular energy. Very well known for their beautiful, majestic energy. Could have a lot of haters but admirers at the same time. Energetically sensitive to alot of others emotions. Sometimes, it can be a lil confusing holding so much power. Because their energy can be mixed up with someone elses if they don't know how to tell the difference. They usually have a strong sense of self, its just other peoples opinions can get in away of that if they arent careful.

Neptune 2nd House - Could use some help on the financial train. They're organic to the way they use their money. I mean, they could be super horrendous spender, spending each and every dime on any and everything. While still some how always having more in their wallet. Or they could be pretty good at saving and are a little bit of a cheapskate.

Neptune 3rd House - Whimsical voices. Poetic writers. Creative thinkers. Very talented when it comes to the hands as well. Could be excellent drawers & painters. Neptune in the 3rd has an ability to travel to very interesting places that aren't too far at home. They may go on lil adventures here and there. But its always a treat. Its kinda strange how well they can be at finding good eats as well with all the travel they do. Could work abroad or go to college somewhere out of their comfort zone a lil.

Neptune 4th House - Has a lot of secrets when it comes to the inner child. Very free, sweet loving children. Can open a door to different realms like we're in Narnia or something. Angelic creatures who enjoy alone time near their favorite place. If they ever share that special place with you consider yourself lucky. They normally keep the things they cherish hidden for a long time.

Neptune in the 5th House - Artists who seek deep into the art and become it. Very creative & a one of a kind with the way they carry the emotion in what it is they do. Can have you thinking hard on what it is they are trying to convey, they are a master at making complexities more harder to figure out. Just be there in the audience and watch the show. You'll never leave the same again.

Neptune in the 6th House - Fun loving pet owners, they go hard for the planet and the creatures that come from it. Real advocates for change and don't take too kindly to insensitive people. Could need to sharpen their boundaries a little more with people. Also, are incredible writers and should tap into this side a bit more. You might end up surprised with what talents you have that could make you some money, or could be a really cool job.

Neptune in the 7th House - Romance is the thing that just keeps on given to these individuals. May need to put the rose colored glasses down. that man might not be for you, love. Don't forget to put more time into your own needs versus the needs of someone else. Your compassionate energy may run dry if you're not using that waterfall of emotion for yourself. People are drawn to 7th house neptunes alot more than you think. They are capable of seeing thru the veil, you just don't notice.

Neptune in the 8th House - Psychologically understands the reasons on why the universe is the way that it is and why the people in it behave the way that we do. Could be honest about a lot of things, dishonest about what they know. The world doesn't need to know everything, which is why the divine gifted them with certain antidotes. Only they can use this so bring healing to a certain nation (or individual) but not everyone can find this secret the way they can. This is normally given to them by spirit guides, ancestors, or thru drreams.

Neptune in the 9th - Impracticality is almost their birth right. They see things in a way that doesnt make sense at all but to them it means something. What I mean is that these people see the world bigger than what they people tell them. They could have big drams and not understand why they have them, but God put them their for a reason. So you can figure them out. You may want to travel and study abroad, or just move somewhere different and don't know how. Thats where all the magic happens, finding out and taking the risk. The sagittarian way.

Neptune in the 10th - Majestic auras. The highlight of the moment. The star. The siren. The energy healer. Do I keep going? Very special creatures who touched this earth to make their dreams come true, even if they have to figure it out themselves. Empathetic to the people around them and are big on helping out with anything whenever they can. The Queens & Kings of the law of attraction. Can attract what they want if they just believe it in it more.

Neptune in the 11th House - Community leaders. Ancients who know they way to what the true reality is meant to be like. Literally can change the world with the way they move, think, and go around helping others. Sweet and lovely people to be around. Needs healing in their own friend groups. Can be a little out there, but thats why people love them.

Neptune in the 12th House - Practical minds in a world that tells them their crazy. No they arent crazy, they just have multiple psychic gifts. And these gifts have a way in showing them things people aren't usually equipped with handling. They need more time alone and in nature to keep themselves grounded. Other wise, they will go crazy from the world telling them that their crazy... When really they know a little more than what they led on. The imagination is a fun place, but also a place where the most hidden becomes entirely to open. Seers of the daylight & the night.

#astrology theories #astrology thoughts #astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #spirituality #tropical astrology #astro knowledge #deja's astro observations #neptune in the houses

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catgirlzugy · 1 month ago

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still in disbelief about how mizu5 genuinely captures the subtleties of transmisogyny so accurately like nothing else i've seen before especially with the nuances with which mizuki's story is told … all it takes is a single sentence, a few words … i love that the classmates saying that shit don't even … realize how cruel they are, bc that's how it /is/ and bc "oh no, we said something weird to a Normal Girl, that makes us look bad" - transmisogyny is just a punchline to a joke for them, that's how detached they are from their own cruelty and it's really not any different from the 'average' misogyny and how that tends to be a joke amongst boys. what ena ended up being exposed to is really just the classmates' 'boy's locker room talk' leaking out, so to speak? ena's probably heard jokes from people about how unfeminine her behavior is in the past and she quickly spits out "that's not funny" bc ena and mizuki are both "pretty girls" who like fashion and dolling themselves up, and hearing them talk about how mizuki's cute in this way … i'm sure it reminds her of her own experiences with being an 'influencer' - people like her when she shuts up and makes herself cute and appealing and ena must've absolutely received her fair share of comments and messages from weirdos for posting selfies of herself online, but i think what drives this home to me as such a fantastic narrative is the way that they call mizuki "attractive as long as she's not making any trouble and being a pain" bc it really speaks to how trans girls are objectified and only deemed 'acceptable' as long as they make themselves into limpless dolls who are acceptable targets for any form of abuse and misogyny instead of trying to claim their own subjectivity as women, so there's so much crossover in how mizuki's experiences work alongside ena's? but also mizuki faces so much more constant and direct criticism, all her actions and choices so closely under scrutiny.

mizuki loves and appreciates the attention of girls and when she first met ena she saw herself in the art that ena made - ena draws a girl in pain and mizuki goes "she's me". in the scene where mizuki gets outed, ena is speechless not bc she thinks mizuki is "gross" or bc she's mad mizuki "tricked" her? she's just horrified that she just got degendered /by association/ and then had to listen to these boys speak about the girl she's in love with in this /aggressively/ violent way, especially since mizuki has a meltdown, knowing, apologizing for hurting, even as ena would absolutely say "no, i'm sorry, im sorry, please don't hate vourself" bc mizuki feels like she's the one at fault for feeling like ena would assume the worst of her, but mizuki also feels like she doesn't have the right to be angry at people … this is the first time we get to see mizuki's rage and it's so palpable … i love so much that she hates the idea of niigo's kindness being born out of her 'abnormality' as a trans girl … she hates everything about this. she hates the idea of coming out, she hates the idea of having a question attached to her girlhood..

mizuki logically knows that niigo are going to accept her bc they've also gone through so much turmoil themselves and understand what it's like to be on the fringes of society, but she still can't shake off all those intrusive thoughts about how they might only accept her out of pity or consideration bc they feel too bad for her rather than a genuine understanding and the idea that things might change between them bc of that is too terrifying to embrace… such patronizing 'kindness' burns too much for mizuki to accept, so she'd rather run away and shut herself out completely… for mizuki it's like being stuck on a bridge where the only two ways out are ones where nothing changes and this hurts in its own way bc she can't tell how much of it would be genuine and how much would be an act and the other way is them /trying too hard/ to be considerate and this can easily become alienating bc mizuki truly just wants to be "one of the girls" in the most natural sense? she doesn't want to be made to feel like she's being accommodated, but there's also all the guilt that she's been internalizing for being "deceptive" and not saying the truth sooner that further complicates things and makes her feel like she's undeserving of any kindness that she may be offered… even though she genuinely was going to tell ena the truth herself, it doesn't matter anymore bc someone else told her before she even got the chance to do so herself and that's something she actually wished would happen in the past, so is there anyone to blame but herself? mizuki's entire thing is that until now she's been "writing" a fictionalized cis girl version of herself when she's with niigo and obscuring her own transness bc she doesn't want to be treated as an Other or have an asterisk attached to her girlhood bc she just wants to be treated as one of them instead of having to explain herself or prove anything but she has her facade violently stripped away from her in the most traumatic way imaginable and now she's entrapped within dysphoria induced suicidal ideation...

#project sekai #mizu5 #mizuki akiyama #ena shinonome

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feyascorner · 10 months ago

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Hear me out! Hear me out!

From Astrion's pov

A Tav who hates physical contact.

But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."

a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT

Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.

But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.

He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.

So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.

He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.

“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”

He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.

“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…

“What is?”

“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“

You stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”

The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.

He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.

If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.

So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”

Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”

There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.

“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”

He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.

“I want you to touch me.”

For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…

After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.

He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.

“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 #fluff

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inkskinned · 9 months ago

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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

#spilled ink #writeblr #personal #please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it #i really try not to write so specifically about it #bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child #i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years #i might delete this. feels big.#the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum #and if u say ur autistic #inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms #please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do #and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort.#but it still feels like...#when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing.#they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly?#and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find #the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go)#and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW."#''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.''#and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic #someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.

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inupibaldspot · 9 months ago

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Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo fluff

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periprose · 2 months ago

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May i request a Logan x angel!reader fic where the reader had to get medical treatment after a mission because her angel wings (that are apart of her mutation) were burned and partially damaged after battle, and Logan comes in to check up on her?

anon I loved this ask ahhhh thank you. I'm like half considering making this a series if people want it (so send more angel requests if you're into it!) <3 I may have made it more angsty but there is fluff at the end :) also reader goes by Angel in this fic.

When Flight Comes to Fire (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, X-Men stuff, idiots in love, angst, hurt no comfort, fluff, kissing

LGGA Masterlist

The first time your mutation made it’s appearance– sharp shoulder blades growing into thick appendages, soft, buttery white feathers extending from them in that unhuman way, your wingspan making it clear you would never be normal– your mother retched and said she would have done anything to chop them off of you. Would’ve done anything to have a normal kid.

In fact, she tried, multiple times, to do so. You were only twelve when she came at you for the first time, in your sleep, feeling falsely secure in your father’s platitudes about how she would never really do anything. You woke up to her reaching inside your blanket, grasping one of your wings as she brandished a knife in her other hand. Luckily, your wings were strong enough to shove her off, but you remember how you screamed at her.

Why, mom? It’s me! It’s me–

She didn’t listen, coming at you again, promising in delirious anger that everything would be okay soon if you would just let her fix it, and she had to be held back by your father, as he called the police.

Because you were her kid, she got let off with a warning, and you were stuck. So you would often fly to the tallest treetops and take your rest there, trying your best to ignore your mother’s other attempts on your life. She didn’t seem to ever get it. You would never be normal.

The final attempt was probably the worst, and the one that caused you to fly away in the end to Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

You were twenty years old, just old enough to legally leave home– you only stayed because your father insisted.

She set your favourite tree on fire. You had no idea your mom had been in enough anguish to essentially murder you for daring to be different.

You awoke to the deep smell of smoke, of tree bark charring, and then you heard the cracking and sparks. The tree quickly caught fire, and you shrieked in pure terror as the heat of the flames approached you. The immense light emitting from the fire blinded you, and suddenly there was a sharp pain from your wings and back– you were getting scorched.

So you flew upwards, high enough that the fire dissipated off your back instantly in the cool night sky’s air, and you were fine. Nothing to show other than a little scar, and the sounds of mutiny coming from your mother below.

You chose to forget her– no point in repairing a relationship with a woman who didn’t want you as you were.

But you’ve never forgotten the pain of being burned alive.

“Angel. You ready?” Logan is to your right in the foyer of the mansion. “Everyone else is waiting in the helicarrier.”

He’s your best friend, has been ever since you came to the X-Mansion as a runaway. It’s not an uncommon story among mutants, but Logan always felt you were like him. Rough, not the easiest to speak to, having a tendency to keep to yourself.

The major difference to him is that you’re a lot easier on the eyes.

Seriously, it was almost like the universe was playing a joke on him. Here was a beautiful girl with literal angel wings, just missing a halo as she arrived at the door for the School for the first time, and he just happened to be the first ugly motherfucker to open the door.

Logan’s never quite sure why you keep up with him, why you stay friends with him, if he was just lucky enough to be the first person you saw and liked. It drives him nuts, the way in which you rely on him, trust him more than he thinks he deserves, you come to him at every moment just to talk over everyone else, when surely you could have anyone else’s attention.

Especially any stupid guy, like him. He’s not sure how you haven’t noticed– even now on the staircase, he can’t tear his gaze away from you. Logan feels bad to be so in love with you, too– he wonders if he’s reading into things too much, if he’s pushing for something that isn’t really there.

And he’ll never know, because you’re so damn flighty. Logan can barely keep up with your whims, and he only knows as much as you’ll tell him about yourself (he hardly knows where you came from that fateful first day), so he just lets you come and go as you please. He’ll keep his feelings deep inside, where you can’t possibly find out about it.

“Yup, I’m fine.” You have a brief smile for him, which gives him that familiar twist of the stomach. “Oh. You’re not wearing your uniform?”

“It’s better to be incognito for this one, according to Scott.” Logan says, adjusting his flannel, mildly enjoying how you check him out.

You’re wearing the typical X-Men uniform– bright yellow, blue stripes down your sides, room for wings with a removable panel in the back. You let them loose, now, telling Logan you’ll be right back.

When you return, with quite a flourish, flapping wings in a true superhero-landing– Logan sees that you’re wearing a tank-top, and some jeans that really, really highlight your ass– but he tries not to focus on that.

“Hey. Tank’s inside out, Angel.” Logan says, waiting for you to fly off again, but you simply take off the tank top, and pull it back on the right way, exposing your bra-covered chest and lithe waist for the briefest of moments, while Logan loses whatever he was about to say. “I…”

“Don’t be a perv, Logan.” You jokingly side-eye him, never suspecting that that could actually be true as you tease him. “You’ve seen me change tons of times.”

“Yeah, but out in the open?” Logan stares at you. “You’re gonna have a shit-ton of admirers if you keep that up.”

“It’s just me, please.” You start up this whole I’m-not-pretty schtick that Logan is pretty sick of hearing, and he shakes his head. ��Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Yeah, Logan thinks, they are waiting, but he’s not sure you needed to be all quick and nonchalant about changing, just to get there faster.

That’s what he means by you being flighty– who knows what’s really in your heart, when you act so quickly?

“Listen up, X-Men. We’re gonna do our best to avoid damages today, right?” Scott speaks with the air of a leader who’s very fed up with his team members.

There’s a resounding yes from everyone, including you, Logan, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty.

“What’s our mission?” Scott says, and you answer first.

“Find the new mutant.” You state, and Scott nods, while Logan hides a smile at how adept you’ve gotten at these missions.

“Make sure he doesn’t defect to the Brotherhood.” Jean adds, looking at you and Logan, seeing how close you two sit to each other. She’s kept it to herself– but Jean thinks if you and Logan really do have something going on, that would be nice. For the both of you.

“No damages.” Logan chimes in, and Scott visibly loses a little composure.

“I already said that.” Scott points out, and Logan shrugs.

“Well, it’s part of the plan, isn’t it?” Logan leans back in his seat on the helicarrier, nestling his head next to your shoulder, not noticing the way your eyebrows raise at the sudden contact. “Better than me not listening at all.”

“Sure, Logan. Fine.” Scott lets it go, knowing better than to ask more from the most “chill” (read: laziest) member of the team.

You laugh a little as Logan smiles a cocky grin.

The new mutant is kind of old– you’re looking for a 19 year old with severe singing around his clothes, pale skin, and black hair. You suppose he’d be extremely frightened.

Most mutants don’t deal well with becoming different all so suddenly, let alone at the very late age of 19, when you could assume that you’re pretty much normal. So you and Jean are hoping to find him first– you figure you’re the two that could calm him down.

Unfortunately, you find Jubilee talking to him first. She’s okay, but she has a tendency to be a little too bombastic, as Jean says quite often.

“And there she goes.” Jean grimaces as Jubilee taps the new mutant’s shoulder, and you pick up her saying that “she’s just like him,” which you’re not sure is a delicate way to deal with the topic.

There are crowds of people walking through the streets, too, and a lot of them are glancing at this yellow-jacketed girl talking to a boy with burnt clothes.

If you had found him, you would have brought him to the side, away from people, and–

“His face turned white. He’s freaking out.” You tell Jean, and her eyes narrow.

Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty are nowhere in sight, so this is just one weird young adult speaking to another one, and you really, really wish the rest were here. You, Jean, Logan and Scott are a bit older– perhaps comforting in your age– but you feel like the boy would’ve done well with more peers.

Jubilee raises her hand as you and Jean approach her. “Guys, I got it under control. See, Kyle, these are more people like us. More mutants.”

“...” Kyle looks on in disbelief.

“Kyle?” You try, and he looks at you– there’s something in his eyes that tells you he wants to trust you, but he’s scared– it reminds you of yourself. “We’re here for you if you want us to be. Take your time. Don’t worry.”

You smile, Jean smiles, Jubilee grins, and Kyle seems okay.

It lasts for about two seconds.

Someone drops what sounds like a glass bottle in the distance, and the shattering sound is enough for Jubilee to gasp, a little spark of fireworks launching from her fingertips, towards Kyle, who watches on in trepidation, and his body starts shaking, moving of it’s own accord, clearly reacting to being so close to another form of heat– and you and Jean move, as you yell out “Wait!–”

Kyle shrieks in fear as his body becomes overtaken with flames, combusting with such intensity that the flames roar at least 100 feet over, and Jean– Phoenix that she is– is able to withstand the heat, but you find yourself being pushed back by hot gusts of wind.

It hurts, it feels as if your skin is melting with every passing second. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe as Kyle loses control of his body, and you open your wings, deciding that flying off into the cool air would be a better alternative.

That was a mistake on your part.

The moment you open your wings, Kyle’s fire pushes you backwards, and up, into the hot air, and your wings catch fire as you come too close–

You scream, but it’s unheard through the roar of the flames, and you barely have time to catch yourself as you fall towards the ground, smoking, fiery tendrils engulfing you.

The last thing you remember is your mother’s face.

Logan sees it happen from a distance.

Scott wanted him to be as close as possible, something about keeping watch on him– and Logan gets it, he’s not always the most responsible, but later on, in hindsight, he wishes he was, because then he wouldn’t have missed what happened to you– and they both turn as a fire overtakes a block of the city.

“Shit, that must be him!” Scott starts running, Logan not far behind.

It’s only when he sees a pair of white wings, a woman flying up, up, up, the fire approaching dangerously close to her– to you– he starts speeding up, overtaking Scott, pushing people out of the way.

Logan wonders what he could do, anyways. He’s invincible, practically, incapable of taking on much damage as his regenerative abilities heal him– perhaps he could run to the kid and knock him out, sustaining burns in the process, but better him than you.

Never you.

Any second now– Logan sees the boy, and he’s got an open fist ready to lightly tap the back of his neck.

He’s not fast enough. Scott yells out, and Logan looks up to see you engulfed in flames, as you scream, and it’s awful to hear– usually you seemed so speedy, so ready to fly at a moment’s notice, that Logan forgot you could be hurt.

He calls out your name. It’s unheard by you as you crash on the ground, still burning– Bobby, Kitty, and Rogue have caught up to you from the other side of the street, and Bobby quickly makes an icy mist that subdues the flames on you, and Kyle’s roaring fire back into him.

You’re unconscious as the X-Men approach you.

Logan touches your face as he kneels next to you, the only one willing to come close right now. “Hey, Angel…”

There’s that unspoken fondness between you two, yet again. Everyone knows, even when Logan has tried to act cool about it. Even now, when Logan attempts to act like he isn’t totally hanging on to your potential words, searching for a breath, a little movement of your head.

Jean, Scott, Jubilee, and the rest look on in trepidation.

You don’t respond, and he feels his heart plummet. You’re covered in burns, mostly across your stomach and back, and he inhales sharply as he turns you over– there’s fresh, scalded skin, crispy-red to the touch.

Your back, your wings– they’re damaged so badly, with feathers singed straight off, the muscular appendages more visible and wounded, and Logan doesn’t know if you’re alive. He almost removes his hands from you, the very thought seeming to scald him from the inside, and he glares at the kid– the one who looks terribly guilty, now, as he runs away.

“Get back here!” Kitty shouts at him, anger in her eyes, and Scott pulls her aside, explaining that it was clearly an accident of sorts– something that Jean confirms for him with a nod of her head.

Right, Jean. Logan knows that if anyone could confirm if you’re alive, it would be her.

As Scott, Kitty, Bobby, and Jubilee go hunting for the kid– Rogue stays behind because she’s always felt close to you and Logan– Logan looks up at Jean in a solemn, teary-eyed look that has her understanding immediately.

“C’mon, Angel… stay with us.” She mutters, as she presses her fingers to your head, and she smiles comfortingly at Logan.

“She’s still here. Just barely, but still here.” Jean says, and Logan sighs, an angry, long sigh that tells Jean and Rogue that he’s going to be insufferably feeling at-fault here, even though no one is.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up, feeling the burnt skin through that damn tank-top, now barely being held together as tatters– for modesty’s sake, he takes off his flannel and wraps it around you.

Rogue lets Logan and you walk forward a bit, not wanting him to hear what she’s about to say, and then looks towards Jean. “He really loves her, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Jean exhales. “Let’s hope for his sake that she’ll be okay.”

Stupid bitch! You’ve been nothing but a curse on this family– fuck you, I hope your future daughter is just as fucked up as you are–

You awake suddenly, with a loud gasp and yell, your mother’s last words to you flashing on your mind– you attempt to pull yourself forward restrained back by tubing in your arm. You’re stuck in a bed. In a hospital bed of sorts.

Not just any hospital bed, one in the hospital wing of the X-Mansion.

You’re calm, at first, until there’s a sudden ache echoing from your back, through your body, through your wings.

“Ah–!” You groan in pain. Trying to move suddenly has hurt you.

There’s a knock at your door. It’s Beast– or, Dr. Hank McCoy, as he’s better known around the hospital wing.

“You’re awake.” Hank says in relief. “It’s been a few days since your accident.”

“It has?” You widen your eyes in shock. “How, w-what… am I okay?”

The last thing you remember is Kyle exploding in flames, causing you to catch fire– then you blacked out, and– you’re having terrible memories of your mother.

“Hank?” You mutter, and he’s quick to come to your side, blue paw-hand holding your own.

“My mother didn’t…”

“No, she’s not here. She’s never come close to you. You’re safe.” Hank states, as Charles has told him to, remembering the few times you’ve had to come to the hospital wing for comfort before.

So many mutants have troubled backstories, and he doesn’t quite understand why you don’t try to connect with others about it. Hank feels it could really help, but you’ve always changed the subject away from you.

You’re hurt, mentally, in a way that no one can really fix, and Hank is a big believer in letting people progress when they need to– but he’s so glad that you’ve bonded with Logan.

“Am I going to be okay?” You tap the side of the bed, fears present in your eyes. “Last thing I remember is Kyle going crazy, and I– I got all burnt–”

“Yes, you’re going to be okay. We’ve administered lots of injections, topical ointments, everything that boosts your healing. You might have some scarring after this is all over, but no injuries. You’re very lucky, Angel.” Hank comforts you, and encourages you to lie back.

“Lucky. Is that what you’d call a girl with a fucked up state of mind?” You murmur, and Hank shakes his head.

“We’re all fucked up.” Hank gets back up, leaving you in your room. “It’s a prerogative to being in the X-Men.”

You smile softly at that. He’s not wrong, but you wish, you really wish you could’ve just been that normal girl that your parents would’ve loved.

You look down at yourself. You’re wearing hospital scrubs, but there’s an unfamiliar fabric underneath the blanket.

Logan’s flannel is splayed across your stomach, a comforting, soft feeling that has you missing him almost instantly. Had he visited you, when you were unconscious, and decided to leave you this as a token, to help you feel at home?

You lift it up, taking a deep smell of Logan’s signature scent– pinewood, smoke, and something kind of sweet, like… marshmallows?

It makes you blush, but almost immediately after, you place the flannel back under the blanket. Logan doesn’t need your silly crush, your overt attachment, and you’re smart enough to keep that to yourself.

Logan hears from Hank that you’re awake, and although he wonders why Hank told him first, rather than Charles, or Jean, he’s glad to be the first one to see you.

“Hey.” He knocks on your door. To Logan’s surprise, he lets go of a breath he was holding– you don’t look horrific, you have some colour in your face, and there’s a soft smile on your lips when you see him.

You look just like Angel. His best friend. And he comes in real close, ruffling your hair as he often does, maybe more gentle because he doesn’t want to add any more pain.

“Hey, Logan.” You grab his hand, squeezing it with warmth, grateful to see him, before letting go suddenly and looking away bashfully, and he pauses, reminding himself not to think too highly of it.

“Angel. You’re feeling better?” He asks, and you motion for him to sit down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel okay.” You stare at him. It’s only been a few days, but Logan looks kind of awful– he’s got some serious dark under-eye bags going on, and stubble that is slowly turning into a beard, and there’s an apparent worry on his face that makes you just want to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Logan tries to ward off your answer with a stern, one word reply, but you’re not having it.

“Really? You don’t look so great.” You say, not without tact. “I hope you weren’t all cooped up in your room, worrying about me.”

Logan makes a sound that’s half way between a sigh, and a laugh at how close you always seem to get to the truth.

“Alright, yeah. Yeah, I was worried to hell about you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He jokes, but your face falls.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m good now, I don’t…” There’s an air of seriousness coming from you, that Logan doesn’t typically see, something you usually don’t let yourself do.

“Are you good? Let me see your back, Angel–” Before Logan can even move you to the side, you turn in defiance, letting him see that you are healing. There are still parts of your flesh, red and angry, but for the most part it seems okay, already far better than it was a couple days ago.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief, touching your wings with a tenderness that has you leaning into his touch, and he gently skims over a scar of yours, glad to see that you’re genuinely not as hurt as he thought– but you pull away quite quickly.

“See? You don’t need to care so much, I’m fine.” You sound accidentally very accusatory, but Logan is just as much of a stubborn asshole as you are sometimes, and he narrows his eyes.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He stares at you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends care about each other. Jesus, you’re the one who always– you’re always checking up on me, sneaking into my room, touching my face and arms and– how else am I supposed to take that?”

It sounds romantic, Logan realizes, after he’s spit all that out– and it does sound like he’s putting the blame of your dynamic on you. And, even worse, it’s all just out there in the open.

“Really. I’m not the only one who cares, Logan, you…” You shake your head, and instead pull his flannel out from under the blanket. “You left this for me. Why do you make it sound like it’s all just me?”

“Okay, fine, it isn’t. Leave it alone, Angel.” Logan pleads a little, his face turning red.

“You’re always acting like I’m gorgeous, you constantly hug me and lean into me, there was that time you let me sleep on top of you–” You continue, feeling more and more confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you sound like an asshole.”

Logan blinks, feeling the argument dissipate, as it often does, whenever you get close to confronting each other about feelings– you always manage to fly away.

He won’t let you, not this time.

“You didn’t. I am an asshole– I’ve never bothered to tell you how I feel.” Logan mutters, and the way your face blanches in fear, shyness, tells him to keep going, to push the boundaries. “I let my own stupid ego get in the way of actually caring about you, and I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve always– I really love you, Angel. And I’m sorry I never made you feel like that was true, I’m sorry that it’s taken until you got hurt for it to be real.”

You have an incredulous look on your face, one Logan wishes he could take a picture of and frame somewhere, because it’s genuinely funny, but then your lip quivers, and he feels like an asshole again.

You feel like an idiot. You think, all this time, what’s bothered you is that you’ve been avoiding the fire– the real ones, sure, but more the things your mother fostered in you. Your trust issues, the way how you hold people dearly in your heart but you can’t let them get close because you worry you’ll never be enough, it’s all been burning for years inside you, and you’ve never had to confront it until Logan decided to stoke the flames.

“It’s always been real for me, too.” You whisper, trying not to cry. “I just… I don’t always believe if people care about me, I never feel good enough to be something for anyone. It’s not you, Logan, it’s my mom, my upbringing, really.”

You give him a short, brief explanation of what your mom did– something you’ll surely expand on later, when it’s not so fresh, when you haven’t been literally burned recently, and the memories pain you more than ever– and Logan’s face turns sharp, his brows furrow, he’s clearly deeply angry by whatever you’ve just told him.

“I’m stupid. I just assumed– it was me putting too much pressure on you. You shouldn’t have been on this mission, that’s fucking awful.” He finally says, and then scowls. “I know you don’t want to hear it right now, but fuck that lady.”

You snort at that. “Yeah. Yeah, it was never you– I’ve always loved you too, Logan, more than you know. I’m sorry I’m always running from you.”

“Oh, so you’re consciously doing that?” He teases, trying not to react too much to your proclamation of love for him, although his brain feels as if it’s short-circuited. He squeezes your hand, and you laugh.

“Yup. I’m almost glad I got hurt, if it makes us more serious.” You comment, but Logan turns glum at that.

“Don’t say that, Angel. I still feel bad about it.” Logan holds your face, caressing your cheeks, staring into your eyes, glad now that you’re not going to shove him away. “Next time, I’ll try to take the hits. I’ll live.”

“You don’t have to–” Before you can start rejecting Logan’s offer, he leans in really close, almost kissing you but not quite, his breath hot on your own mouth.

“I want you to live.” He murmurs, and you feel yourself turn warm at that.

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s almost chaste, because Logan still isn’t sure how many of your walls he can break down in one day– but for once you’re quick to act in the opposite direction now, lifting tubes out of your arm (irresponsible as hell, Logan would say later on) so you can better reach his face, and you run your fingers through his hair as you kiss him, again, and again.

It’s soft, pliant, and warm, and Logan doesn’t quite know what to say when you come back up for air, breathing deeply, body sweaty from both recovery and how intense this is– he feels around you, around your waist as he leans in again, and you giggle, pulling away for just a moment before kissing him again.

His hands are gentle, skimming over your body without trying to hurt the burns on your back– but Logan feels you clamber onto him, onto his lap, and then he feels the soft feathers of your wings as they pull themselves outward, into the open.

He opens his eyes, and grins in a wolfish manner. Maybe you’ve been changed by what happened, maybe you aren’t the same, but you’re his Angel now, and he prefers that.

He kisses you again.

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rebelliousstories · 3 months ago

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Their S/O Giving Them Small Yet Thoughtful Gifts…

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Suggestive Themes, Brief Angst

Word Count: 1,150

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Consider Donating to the Page: Here

Logan Howlett/The Wolverine

* Logan’s love language is acts of service. He doesn’t like to do big and extravagant anything. Of course there are some exceptions, but for the most part he likes keeping things solely for the two of you.

* So you giving him small things is perfect for him. I see him as someone who enjoys wood working in all capacities, especially figurines. He keeps them in the bedroom away from anyone who might see them, but you both know they’re there. Logan’s got a wolverine figurine on his nightstand which I could see as you get it for him, and he shoots you a deadpan look at first, but he treasures it with everything in him.

* I could also see him receiving new flannels, or clothing. Something practical. New colors and patterns would be something that he wouldn’t think of getting normally, but if you see them in town, get them. He’s wearing those specific articles of clothing till they’re thread bare. Let’s be completely honest though, if you bring that man anything, he’s cherishing it. It could be a carefully thought out present, or a rock you found on the way home that reminded you of him.

* Two ways he’ll accept a present that you give him: if you’re around others, he’ll grunt out a thank you, and press a quick kiss to your head before pocketing or stowing it away so no one else can see what a sucker he is for you. Or, his preferred way of receiving gifts, is in the comfort of your bedroom when it’s just the two of you. There, he’ll wrap you in a big hug, and stay there. He’s a man of few words. But in the privacy of your room, he can pepper you with kisses and affection as much as he wants without anyone else judging him for it. Logan still needs to protect his persona after all.

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

* I can completely see Wade as someone who does the absolute most for his S/O. He’s someone who will throw you a party just because. So dealing with someone who doesn’t do the big parties and gifts like him is a bit of a learning curve. But once he gets the hang of it, Wade is treasuring all you give him.

* Anything Hello Kitty specifically, or Sanrio in general, is a-okay n his books. Once he moves out of the one bedroom apartment with Al, he’s setting up a shelf that has all of his collectibles and trinkets that have the characters on them. He goes feral over some blind boxes too. Give him a few, and he’ll tear through them cause that ADHD must be satisfied.

* Wade also really likes gifts you would get from an arcade or skate rink. Like the ones you have to collect tickets to get. He likes nostalgia, alright? Just give him things that remind him of a simpler time, and he is absolute putty. Could totally see him still wanting, receiving, and playing CDs and VHS tapes.

* When you do give him his gift, no matter if you’re in front of people or alone, he’s landing the wettest smack of a kiss on your cheek, following quickly by one on your lips. Just be mindful to hold his hands because they will start to wander to inappropriate places if you let him.

Remy LeBeau/Gambit

* Now, for my little Cajun. He is so appreciative of just the fact that you’re dating him, he doesn’t need gifts. That said, he will love anything you give him. Remy loves collecting things from different countries and states. So if you travel, bring him something small back. He arranges everything in order on a specific set of shelves that he got just to display all the little items.

* This may be stereotypical for him, but the Gambit LOVES fancy card decks. The ones he uses in battle are always ones that are not fancy, but just some sturdy standard cards. But you give this man a fancy deck of cards that have intricate designs and patterns? Ooo Lordy he’s a sucker for that. He gets some little stands for the decks so he can display them proudly next to his travel gifts.

* Unless his friends are prepared for it, no one asks him about the ever growing shelves of trinkets. Most of the time because he will find a way to bring up the newest one anyways regardless of the conversation. It’s not that they don’t like hearing about the new items, it’s just that Remy takes that as an excuse to talk far too long about them and you. Sometimes, if a new person comes over and makes the mistake of asking about the shelves, his friends will all groan, and begin grabbing another drink or food so they aren’t subject to his speech again.

* Remy will always show his appreciation for when you bring home a gift for him. If you’re coming back from your travels and have a gift for him, he’s extra appreciative. He hadn’t seen you in too long, which means he needs to spoil you more. Hugging you close, kissing everywhere he can, general tangled limbs. If you come home with a fancy deck of cards though? Y’all ain’t leaving the bedroom till the next day.

Poly! Logan & Wade

* Oh my goodness… double trouble on opposite ends of the spectrum. Logan doesn’t mind PDA, and for Wade that’s a must. So naturally their reactions are going to be different when they receive their gifts. No matter what, they agree to cherish it as much as they can.

* Giving them gifts together prompts some grumbling on behalf of Logan, and playful competition from Wade. Wade doesn’t mean to belittle whatever you got for Logan but the other man can’t help but get defensive over you and your presents when he does this. It honestly is the one thing that puts him in a foul mood fast.

* If you give them gifts separately, which would probably be the best, they each give their own thanks for their gifts. Even if the gifts go together, it’s just easier to give them separate because of how differently they show appreciation.

* Logan would not be overtly jealous if you give Wade something shinier, newer, or more expensive, but he would deal with it quietly. He would never bring it up to you, but you could see the glances and looks he would throw towards Wade when he got his gifts. Give this man a new piece of jewelry. I see him as a watch man, so giving him a brand new one would definitely keep his own self doubt from creeping up as often. Just be warned, if Wade sees this, he’s going to want a new present. So just give him a Hello Kitty figurine and he’ll be fine.

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anifever · 5 months ago

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Hii, can you make Johnny cade or the gang with reader kinda like Charlotte LA Bouff from princess and the frog because I'm just thinking that it would be so interesting having kind of s/o so spoiled but kind and not a brat too, I love Lottie tho✨😭

Gang w/ a Lottie!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a reader whose like Charlotte La Bouff from “Princess and the Frog”

A/N : AHHH I’m sorry this took me so long I’ve been busy w other stuff. Anyways, I always wanted to be Lottie when I was younger 🥲 hopefully I got this close enough to her character also sorry these are shorter than normal <\3

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🎀 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ He’s honestly a little jealous of you

୨ He feels like you have everything he doesn’t

୨ That being said, does NOT stop the man from loving you once he sees how sweet and generous you are

୨ Your personalities are super different tho

୨ You’re so bubbly and bright and he thinks it’s endearing

୨ You definitely keep him on his toes

୨ You also keep him young

୨ Whenever he seems to be struggling more than usual with finances, you swoop in and save the day

୨ He’s like “??? Honey, I can’t take this,” and you’re just like “Too late, Dare-Bear, don’t worry about it 😊”

୨ Whenever you sleep over you wear a frilly pink sleep mask he has trouble not smiling over

୨ You love his cooking and are always drooling over it

୨ It’s a habit for you to bring pastries, etc from a bakery on the other side of town whenever you come over

୨ Earlier in the relationship/before you started dating, he knew how spoiled you were and he was like “..how am I supposed to compete with this.”

୨ Luckily you find him extremely muscly, attractive, and sweet so it makes up for his money 😋😋

୨ Either way, he still buys you whatever he can when he has the spare cash

୨ You have him wrapped around your finger

Two-Bit

୨ Couldn’t hold back his laugh when he saw a childhood picture of you dressed as a princess for Halloween

୨ You guys honestly go together so well

୨ If you have the same type of accent Lottie has- even better

୨ The first thing you said when you met his sister was “Well aren’t you as pretty as a peach!”

୨ Safe to say that made him more smitten

୨ You walk him like a dog it’s so funny

୨ He doesn’t spend as much money on beer anymore cuz he saves a lot up for you

୨ Found a stray kitty on the street and you started squealing when he brought it to you

୨ He was cheesing from ear to ear

୨ Has tried to get you to kiss a frog before after you told him you always wanted to when you were younger (mwahaha) and you freaked out

୨ That being said, he picks up random bugs all the time to try and gross you out- which works

୨ You never hurt them though⁉️⁉️ You just run away and start screaming

୨ Whenever he starts insulting people if they’re mean to you or something, you start dying of laughter which spurrs him on more

Steve

୨ He’s torn between thinking you’re a brat to also being extremely attracted to you

୨ He assumes you’re a mean girl who lives off daddy’s money (the second part being lowkey true)

୨ Doesn’t stop him from drooling tho

୨ Contrary to popular belief, you were actually really nice

୨ Like you came into the DX one day, giving him a huge tip while talking super animatedly and he was just like “Ah..”

୨ Whenever he talks about cars you have no clue what he’s talking about

୨ You have a pretty pink ‘62 Ferrari 250 GTO and that’s all you know!!

୨ You buy new clothes constantly and have lil’ fashion shows for him

୨ “Yeahhh, could you jus’ spin around one more time so I can see the back? 😇”

୨ “….Steve.”

୨ Whenever nobody else is around (Soda, etc) at the DX, you give him WAY bigger of a tip than normal lmao

୨ Brags about you to Soda all the time

Dallas

୨ He thought you were so annoying at first I’m sorry 😭

୨ Even with that, he still tried to get in your pants

୨ You slapped him for it which just made him want you more (he’s on that freak timing)

୨ You know what you want and he’s honestly really attracted to it

୨ He ends up spoiling you though, he can’t help it when you give him puppy dog eyes and pout your glossy lips

୨ Hilariously different

୨ Whenever he’s in your room he’s so out of place

୨ He’s surrounded by so much pink, stuffed animals, expensive jewelry and clothes, a big canopy bed, a crystal chandelier, etc

୨ His ego gets boosted when he’s out in public with you

୨ Like he’s with the prettiest and richest girl in town??? Yeahhh he’ll never let this go

୨ You not caring about his/his friends status’ is really important to him and he appreciates it even though he’ll never outright say it

Soda

୨ You guys both have a big line of people who want you

୨ Power couple!!

୨ You’re really ditzy- not necessarily stupid, but not all there

୨ He relates.

୨ You guys just sit there and look pretty

୨ Like you definitely have won various beauty pageants and have kept all the tiaras and sashes

୨ Makes you try the tiaras on every time he comes over

୨ He takes you to a drag race or rodeo and you’re like “Shew- Soda, I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” while fanning yourself

୨ Probably because you’re wearing some expensive dress from a boutique in town made with thick material, but he’ll never smart off to you by saying that 🤍🤍

୨ Has a habit of ruining his DX shirt and you always pay for him to get a new one

୨ He already knew he was attractive, but it was only when you came along and started buttering him up that he started getting giddy about it

୨ He sucks up so hard to your mom and dad; they love him

Johnny

୨ Probably teased you a bit with Pony before you guys officially met

୨ After the initial iffy feeling he had about you wore off, he was head over heels when he knew you better

୨ He genuinely sees you as a princess

୨ You’re always wearing some shade of pink and some form of pearls and he’s mesmerized

୨ He thinks you deserve a lot better since he can’t give you much

୨ You literally couldn’t care less though since he treats you so well

୨ He’ll save up random coins off the street if he had to tho

୨ Your house is huge so you let him stay in a spare room which eventually just becomes his own

୨ Your house also did nothing to help his idea of you being a princess since it was way bigger and more extravagant than anything he could’ve imagined

୨ Your cat(s) love him, he’s a little overwhelmed at first but after that you’ll always find him with one around/on him

୨ You’re so comfortable fawning over him constantly and he gets pretty embarrassed about it LMAO

Pony

୨ He has a thing for pretty rich girls so this is fitting

୨ Once again, he also assumed you were mean and stuck up

୨ When you guys talked for the first time, he was definitely surprised

୨ You were definitely a bit out of touch with reality, but who cares!!!! You were pretty and nice!!!!

୨ Saw you stand up for one of your greaser friends once and felt his heart skip a beat

୨ Heard through the grapevine (he asked around) that you were enamored with some ‘pretty boy’ and couldn’t stop talking about him and he was like “Awww shucks 😞”

୨ He became extremely confused and denied it when Two and Johnny kept saying it was him after they saw you two interact at school

୨ He finally picked up on the heavy flirting one day and was like “…OHHHH”

୨ Whenever you get excited about something, he has a hard time understanding you since you start talking so fast and freaking out, but he just watches with a lovesick grin

୨ Your sass put together is on another level

୨ It scares Darry.

୨ And Steve.

୨ Back to the point I made earlier, you’d stand up for him about his status no matter what

୨ So in love it’s nasty

୨ Everyone in the gang is confused about how he bagged you especially considering he’s the youngest

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your-average-teenage-mess · 22 days ago

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The fact that so many of us grew up undiagnosed autistic and socially isolated to the point where we couldn't have a normal interaction with our average classmate, were forced into learning philosophical and psychological theory just to understand what the fuck was wrong with us, kept having our interests shamed by the mainstream and our natural form of existence being seen as a turn-off for almost everyone in our fucking lives, kept being told that we were being inappropriate and unacceptable because the rules of society were stupid, had our entire life fall apart because everything was harder than it was supposed to be, developed multiple mental health issues in the process and had to cling to the insights we gained about society from the outside and to the things we were passionate about as our only forms of stability and power, only to then be told that we're "not better than everyone else for liking different things" and "should stop trying to win over male approval", just because we also happened to live through all that as girls and God Forbid we let the self-importance of an isolated dysfunctional teenage girl without social support blow out of proportion, will probably continue making me angry for as long as this doesn't stop. And maybe a bit after that too.

What I need some of you to understand is that "haha other girls wear makeup and date guys while I listen to indie rock and have no love life" is not necessarily a takedown of wearing makeup and dating guys. Sometimes it's just attempting to joke around at how terrifyingly isolating it is to be the only one who is the latter and WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO MAKE YOURSELF ANY OTHER WAY EVEN IF YOU TRIED, while everyone in your life is the former, and seem to relegate you to the category of "unsociable weirdo". Do you really think that this causes people (and by people I mean TEENAGE GIRLS for fucks sake) to believe they're genuinely better than everyone around them? Do you think people who went through this and made "other girls vs me" memes on Facebook were the ones who left the "other girls" of the world with unresolved personal trauma from highschool? That the outcasts joking about being edgy and cool because they can't get along with anyone are the ones who made gender-conforming girls with mainstream interests and a friend group and a love life feel like they are lesser? Give me. A fucking. Break.

#not like other girls #feminism #autism #undiagnosed autistic #mental health #isolation #social isolation #the trauma caused by growing up as a social outcast #uniqueness

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stevieschrodinger · 4 months ago

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I do not have time to write this, but I really need to write it down.

All the events of Stranger things happen as normal - one crucial difference, Eddie gets involved, but not in the same way. He's an innocent by stander who never made friends with the kids. He's a vague background character to the action. He's an extra on set, effectively, and when he drops out of school and leaves town abruptly, someone might notice, but no one really questions it.

Years later, the only thing that feels real about the whole thing are the scars Steve still carries on his body. Sometimes, sometimes, he has to call Robin, just to check it was all real. That he hasn't lost his mind. He still flinches when a light flickers, to this day his ears ring for hours after a loud noise. He has headaches.

The only people he can talk to about it are Robin and the kids; but he feels bad. The kids aren't kids anymore, and they all seem to have just...gotten on with their lives. Seemed to have grown and evolved past it all, even though Steve regularly still wakes in the night, sweating and fighting with his bed covers. He doesn't put that on them, he sounds happy on the phone, and he is, loves hearing about their lives, their relationships, their plans and their own kids.

Robin has a girlfriend, she's happy and settled. Steve's the only one who seems...stuck. Like he cant move past it. He bums around. Stays with Nancy for a while, then Robin. Visits Argyle, makes loose acquaintances and sofa surfs. Drifts, aimlessly, through life.

It's about time in his cycle to visit Robin, but the relationship is serious this time and she nags him to find his own place to stay near by - loosing patience with him when he fails to be motivated and finding it for him herself. It's tiny, the kind of place where the bed is also the couch and the TV rests on a short run of kitchen counter because there's no where else. Feels okay though.

Steve gets a job. Spends a day on foot, door to door, walking through town; lands in a record shop of all places, even though CD's have now well and truly taken hold and vinyl isn't much of a thing. It's dark inside, the walls painted black, the bare brick red. A couple of people browse through, but Steve heads right for the counter.

There's some screamo rock stuff playing that Steve doesn't recognize, but it's quiet, so it's okay.

Behind the counter, someone Steve half recognizes from another life. Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. What are the odds.

Eddie isn't who Steve remembers. He's angry now. Bitter. Has a horrible scar that creeps up his neck and onto his face, pulling the corner of his lip down. Steve does his best to ignore it. Begs for work.

Eddie employs him, but only because he thinks it's fucking funny how far the king has fallen. Now the king works for the jester.

Steve does his best at the shop. Cleans a lot. Gets on well with the customers, charms plenty of sales.

Eddie walks with a cane and seems to hate everyone and everything; but nothing so much as a cold morning. Seems to be in more pain than usual.

Steve wants to ask, Eddie tells him it was an animal attack. In 86.

Steve's seen some of the scars by now, caught glimpses of how bad Eddie was hurt; helped Eddie even when Eddie was spitting angry about accepting any help.

What the fuck kind of animal could do that much damage in Hawkins?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

And Steve puts it together then, instantly and viscerally realizes in his bones what must have happened. No one ever believed Eddie. Why would they? How could anyone think that monsters coming out of the walls, out of the floors, out of glowing red portals could be the truth?

And Steve says, did it's face peel apart like a flower?

And then he tells Eddie. He tells Eddie everything. He shows Eddie his own scars. Tells him about every monster they ever come across. It was one of the demo dogs. Like Dart. Steve knew it must have been, but Eddie confirms with a description.

And then Eddie cries, because he finally has a explanation. He's not crazy. For the first time in his life, someone believes him.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eventual steddie #ficlet #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my writing #fic idea

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ceesimz · 5 months ago

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We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff!

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh, yeah, she beat my ass."

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