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thebibliosphere · 3 years ago

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So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

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ponyam · 3 years ago

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Heyyyyyy! I can’t express how much I love your writing honestly and I really want to request something if your still taking them. Could you do a Zhongli x reader? Zhongli takes reader on a date to propose to them and could you include the wedding too if that’s too much to ask? I would really appreciate it :)❤️❤️

thank you so much! and sorry this took so long omg

devout

zhongli x reader [gender neutral]

synopsis: zhongli takes you on a proposal-date and sweeps you of ur mfkn feet <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end, mentions of a [food] coma, i'm a sap

The light of the morning sun shone brightly, yet the air was brisk as it nipped at your cheeks. The crisp smell of sea air wafted in from the docks, while the rhythmic chime of ship’s bells echoed off the walls of buildings, indicating that sailors had risen to greet the day and the unruly tide that awaited them.

Your hand was pocketed with his, keeping your grip warm and secure as you walked closely together through the awakening streets of Liyue. At the brink of dawn, your lover began persistently nudging you awake, peppering your face in sweet kisses while promising you with an even sweeter meal as a form of bargain. How lucky he was that it appeared to have worked.

Mornings like this weren’t totally uncommon with Zhongli, however this seemingly newfound fervor for planning a whole day trip like this was a little out of the ordinary. When you asked him what the occasion was— out of slight concern that you might’ve forgotten it— he denied that there ever was one; he simply wanted to express his “love and adoration through a little quality time together.”

Before you could press any further, something had caught your lover’s attention, as you were suddenly being ushered in another direction. He escorted you to sit at one of the tables at the Wanmin Restaurant and, once you were settled, excused himself to order food, planting a quick peck to your cheek in the process. Looking around you noticed that the area wasn’t too crowded at this time of day; there was a certain peacefulness that had settled over the atmosphere that contrasted heavily with the normally bustling streets of the harbor. Perhaps that was what he intended by waking you up so damn early.

Breakfast was delicious, as promised. It also served to ease some of the bitterness you felt towards being jostled awake at the crack of dawn. Zhongli didn’t hold back, either. Anything and everything that you might like was placed on the table in front of you, and you weren’t sure how he was able to afford it, nor if you’d manage to finish it all without going into a coma.

On top of all that, your lover seemed to have brought his own food from home, though it was neatly wrapped and sat underneath the small table. Again, when you asked him about it— not having ever recalled him making it— his reply was as vague as ever; “oh it’s just a little something for later.”

After boxing all the leftovers from the meal that Chef Mao so kindly put together despite the large request, Zhongli offered to take you to visit Dihua Marsh to show you a few of his favorite sights, and maybe even enlighten you with some of the history as well.

There was something so enchanting about the way he spoke; his deep, honeyed voice coating over his words as he recounted tales of his many years of living. He exuded the calm and sophisticated aura of a scholar, which he practically was whether or not he chose to admit it, yet his occasional naivety and silliness were equally charming qualities of his.

You failed to realize how quickly you were drowning in his presence until he directed a question at you, which you had to embarrassingly ask him to repeat. Fortunately, Zhongli wasn’t irritated that you hadn’t been paying attention, in fact he found the dumbfounded expression you wore to be quite endearing.

“I said,” he began as he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his thumb and forefinger while tucking a few stray hairs and a glaze lily that he must’ve picked earlier, gently behind your ear.

He then leaned in, arms snaking around and pulling you towards him by the waist as his breath danced along the side of your neck, lips ghosting over your skin.

“...would you allow me to take you to see a few ruins with me? There is still so much that I wish to show you…”

A sudden tingle shot down your spine as Zhongli’s lips moved to decorate your neck in soft, delicate kisses that seemed to leave a burning imprint in their wake, leaving you slightly flushed. It was truly astonishing how easily he could leave you breathless, even with such little strenuous activity. His affectionate demeanor was slightly peculiar, too, but you were hardly in the position to complain about it.

“Then show me,” you replied, managing to tame the swarm of butterflies that had almost completely consumed you.

Letting out a deep chuckle, Zhongli withdrew his kisses while his hand moved to cup your cheek. He hummed in satisfaction, admiring you with his glowing amber gaze for a moment before speaking.

“Gladly.”

That afternoon was spent with Zhongli as your tour guide as you traversed the various decaying stone structures throughout the Guili Plains, Luhua Pool, and finally, Jueyun Karst, where Zhongli recalled some of his early memories of the adepti with a fond smile adorning his face. You quickly discovered him to be quite the archaeological expert, not that you ever doubted it of course, but he seemed to have quite the knack for uncovering intricate little mechanisms that had been hidden away and preserved in stone over the course of the last few millennia.

He was also very adamant about showing you many of Liyue’s great sights, and was not afraid to express this by taking you to every available vantage point, regardless of how far or out-of-reach it seemed. Even if you claimed to be exhausted, Zhongli would simply carry you the rest of the way because you were going to see this view. And what a view it was. From up high it was easy to take in almost the entirety of Liyue in all of its golden splendor, which was the original intention in bringing you here. This was something that he spent years constructing and cultivating, something he took great pride in and fought hard to protect. It was his world, and you were his crowned jewel.

As the sun was beginning to set, Zhongli escorted you back to the harbor before excusing himself to quickly go and “check something,” sending you off once again with a sweet kiss, and asking you to meet him at the peak of Mt. Tianheng in about twenty or so minutes. You smiled to yourself as you waved goodbye, curious as to what he had in mind and slightly amused by his frantic behavior. You thought back to your earlier denied inquiries regarding what was so special about today.

Perhaps now you would get some answers.

When you arrived at the rendezvous point, well, least to say you were taken aback. Laid out before you was a spread of a variety of your favorite foods, including desserts and a tea set, accompanied by an array of flickering candles that illuminated the small picnic blanket as well as the single glaze lily that grew nearby. Just past it stood the man that you had fallen in love with, his back turned as he watched the sun sink beneath the clouds.

“What’s all this?”

Immediately you caught his attention.

“Ah, there you are, my dear,” he said, turning slightly to face you. “Come here. I have something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

He extended his hand out towards you, a gesture for you to stand beside him. You approached him hesitantly in an attempt to not disturb the lovely display he had assembled for you, while letting his arm gently drape itself across your shoulders.

Your breath caught in your throat. By the Archons, the view was stunning. Sure, you had been sight-seeing all day and this could hardly be any different from the last dozen places you trekked to watch the skyline, but there was something about the way in which the glowing aura of the evening sky reflected off of Liyue and the twinkling sea of its harbor that left you in completely awestruck.

Had you not been quite as transfixed as you were in that moment, perhaps you would’ve caught sight of the distant, far-away look in your lover's eyes. Maybe you would have noticed the way he was fidgeting slightly, or the way his eyes were no longer trained on the view, but on something far more radiant.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, snapping him out of his trance.

Zhongli smiled, enjoying watching the awe and wonder twinkle in your irises.

“Indeed it is.”

You felt his arm lift away from your shoulders.

“But I think I have found something far more precious.”

You felt his hand slip into yours.

“Oh really? And what’s tha—”

When you turned, Zhongli, Rex Lapis, the former Geo Archon, was kneeling before you, regarding you with such an adoring gaze as if you were the deity to be revered, answering your question without needing to utter a single syllable: ‘You’

“(Y/N),” he began, giving your hands a light squeeze. “There is much I’ve been meaning to say to you, but I fear that I have such little time,” he sighed. “When I first gave up my gnosis, I found myself wandering aimlessly, unsure of my place in this world now that I was no longer Rex Lapis. I am now just a mortal man, with no duty to my people. It was a… foreign concept to me, at first. I wasn’t sure how to lead a carefree life, with a clear and resolute heart, until I met you.

“I never anticipated to meet someone quite like yourself, nor did I intend to fall in love as deeply as I have, but I hold no regrets. You have shown me true happiness, and for that I must thank you.”

Zhongli pressed a kiss to your knuckles as you felt your eyes begin to well up with tears.

“Each day spent with you is as valuable as gold to me. Our time together is boundless. I knew not my place in this world before, but I now realize that it has always been right here with you.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“(Y/N), my love, I cannot imagine a world without you in it, and I wish to form a new contract with you from here on out, so please…”

Reaching into his pocket, Zhongli produced a small, black box. Inside was a beautiful jade ring, crested and adorned with gold.

“...will you marry me?”

—

It was a warm summer’s night, and the moon rose full, its light ricocheting off of crystalline streams of water as they cascaded down the high cliffs which surrounded you. The air was humid, but somehow the combination of mist and the gentle night’s breeze made each inhale feel more rejuvenating than the last.

Fireflies were out tonight. They were dancing about you and your fiancé as you stood together side by side adorned in matching hanfu, rapidly beating hearts synchronizing to the same rhythm. It was a relatively quiet ceremony. There weren’t too many guests, and the venue was fairly secluded, making the process feel much more intimate.

After lighting the altar candles and paying respects, a tea ceremony was held, followed by the exchanging of vows. A few adepti were present, as well as some close friends and family members. Seldom did you release each other’s hand, regardless of what you were doing or who was looking. It provided a sense of security for the both of you, a silent reminder to one another that ‘yes, I’m still here, and yes, this is real.’

Although Zhongli is known for being a very composed gentleman, he still found it difficult to restrain himself from sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around while kissing you all over; he was overjoyed, though he was not the easiest person to read.

Instead of performing such an extravagant display of affection, Zhongli opted for a single, chaste kiss once you completed in saying your vows. It was extremely tempting to turn that one kiss into many, much more passionate kisses, but Zhongli was still quite aware of his audience, giving him reason to hold back.

After the wedding reception was held and you had just sent off the very last guest, your husband pulled you aside, albeit a little harsher than intended. You let out a small yelp as you collided with him, surprised by his sudden brazenness.

“You look divine,” he spoke softly, admiring you as you were bathed in moonlight.

A hand then moved to brush some of the hair away from your face, while his other remained gently clasped with yours. Soft lips moved to caress your forehead, and then your temples.

“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he continued.

His lips then moved to your cheek, then jaw, lingering there for a moment while his hand cradled your face.

“Longer than you can imagine,” his voice was deep, sultry, and right in your ear.

He moved to repeat the same process on the other side of your face.

“So forgive me if I’m a little selfish tonight.”

He kissed the tip of your nose before moving his lips to hover over yours, warm breath mingling with your own.

“I must make up for the lost time, after all.”

Zhongli sealed his promise with a kiss that was deep and devouring, conveying all the emotions he had ever felt for you as well as one last, simple message:

'I am utterly and wholly devoted to you.'

#i have summoned the zhongli simps #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #rex lapis x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #genshin #zhongli x you

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

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General Adult Trio Yan Hcs.

it’s been a while since i’ve gotten to flesh out my hcs for the adult trio!! my chrollo thirst has Picked back up once again, and with it, the other two hxh low-lives.

Chrollo Lucilfer;

Chrollo’s approach is, in part, tailored to you. The advantage in lacking a solid sense of self means the ability to wear many faces. A charming suitor, a thief willing to sweep you away into a night of thrills, a brooding yet misunderstood antihero... he can play every role perfectly. He might also take elements of each and form a perfect counterpart.

He goes out of his way to familiarize himself with those in your close circle. Your friends, coworkers, even your family; all will experience his charisma. Chrollo acts none the wiser but he knows what he’s doing. By getting their affirmation, he has more influence in your life. It won’t be uncommon to hear people ask why you’re not dating Chrollo.

“Oh, that?” he smiles, eyelids fluttering shut. “I ran into them by coincidence this morning. That look on your face... you don’t believe me, do you? Pity.”

Chrollo’s end goal is to have you traveling with him. He feels confident in his myriad of Nen to keep you from acting up, believing that if worst comes to worst, a stolen Manipulator ability would get the situation under control. Traveling with Chrollo is hectic, traversing multiple time zones and cultures. He’ll teach you about every place you’re going.

Generally doesn’t mind when you’re mouthy. Chrollo finds it amusing that you speak your thoughts so freely, but there are some subjects that remain best left unsaid. He wouldn’t care for any indication of attraction to someone other than him, speaking about past relationships in a positive light, stuff like that. There’d be a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Chrollo closes his book with more force than necessary. “Let’s move on from this topic, shall we?”

He has a penchant for challenging you. Loves watching your attempts at reasoning with him, which can feel infantilizing, not that telling him this will change anything. Chrollo will shrug your concern off, saying that he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He does know what you’re talking about...

Due to his interest in gothic style, you can expect numerous gifts relating to fashion. Chrollo’s favorites on you include colors like maroon and black, fishnets/sheer tights, choker necklaces, corset outfits, anything with lace, and off-shoulder tops. He loves whatever shows off your legs and collarbones.

“You look like a work of art,” he hums, circling you like a predator who’s spotted its prey. “It should come as no surprise that I want to steal you.”

Hisoka Morow;

Hisoka makes for a perplexing yandere. He’s a walking contradiction in every definition of the word, overbearing yet flaky, obsessive yet distant, and always intent on ruining your day. Being around you is thrilling and he’s unashamed of his addiction. Hisoka lives for himself and nothing else matters.

He prances into your life intending to disturb the status quo. Just when you think you’re free, Hisoka shows up again, welcoming himself into your home. The worst part about it is that getting frustrated and lashing out is what he wants. He looks oh so pleased at prying that reaction from you, licking his lips and emanating bloodlust while you tell him off.

“[First]... I could devour you here and now ♥.”

Ignoring him doesn’t feel like a viable option. Should you rely on this method, anything that you’re paying attention to instead of him will meet an untimely demise. Whether it be a person, technology, or a book; expect cards to soon be lodged in it. Hisoka doesn’t stick around for long. So when he is lurking around your area, he expects attention.

Hisoka’s bizarre nature created a new yandere subgenre. He’s a part-time yandere, typically allowing you to live your life as you please, finding immense gratification from how on edge this makes you. It’s not uncommon for Hisoka to leave for months and then pop up at your job with a sweet smile.

“Were you lonely without me? Embarrassing as it may be, I found myself missing you. I’m sure we have lots to catch up on.”

Overall, you can expect your quality of life to go down every time Hisoka rears his head. The good news is that when he disappears for the next few months, you’re able to live life as per usual, no longer held captive by his whims. Hisoka is a lenient yandere, meaning, he likely won’t kidnap you unless pushed to extremes. The benefits Hisoka has to offer end there.

The touchiest yandere of three listed here. His hands are always on you: whether it be your lower back, your waist, even “accidentally” brushing over your ass. Pushing him away is not going to help. Hisoka is just waiting for an excuse to connect himself to you with Bungee Gum, don’t give him a reason.

Illumi Zoldyck;

Catching Illumi’s attention is akin to opening the door one day to find the Grim Reaper staring back at you. Similar to drawing the tarot card Death, you can expect your normal way of life to become a distant memory. Illumi’s view towards relationships is warped, he believes that commitment means disregarding everything else, and this intense view is forced onto you.

“There’s no reason to be upset,” Illumi reasons, blinking at your hunched over form. “I’m taking care of everything. Why are you crying?”

He thinks in black and white terms. Illumi can provide for you in abundance, what else could you possibly need from a partner? There’s no getting through to him on this front -- no matter how much you plead -- as he feels you’re being irrational. That with time, you’ll come around. His family encourages this detrimental behavior.

Illumi is a straightforward yandere, but that doesn’t make him any less manipulative. He uses this honesty as a cover for what he’s trying to accomplish. Drumming phrases and ideas into your head, bluntly bringing up past hurts that could be associated with your life before him. There’s a mold that Illumi wants you to fill and he’s willing to push you into it.

He doesn’t see the point in wasting time. Illumi feels like you have the potential to benefit his family, and once he feels this way, is willing to do anything to make that vision a reality. He’ll make some stiff attempts at romance if he receives advice like that from his family. Dates will be shrouded in silence or awkward small talk, no in-between.

You’re expected to adjust to things unnaturally fast. Illumi lays down the groundwork of what becoming a member of the Zoldyck family entails, even if you’re in a distraught state. Rules are set into place immediately with the expectation that you’ll follow them. Butlers are always around to ensure this, or return you to your room should you break them.

“Now, this is important. Hm... you really aren’t paying much attention. That’s going to be a problem.”

Unlike Hisoka, Illumi oversees all details relating to your life. When you wake up, when you should sleep, the nutritional contents of your meals, everything is micromanaged. He claims it’s for the sake of keeping you healthy. Which it very well could be, but doesn’t excuse how overbearing he is.

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peachsayshi · 4 years ago

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Chapter 6 - Festival

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Teasing and a little bit of Fluff.

Summary: Your best friend Rina is curious about what's been keeping you so busy, and the two of you run into Gojo and his student at a food festival.

A/N: I have been working on my jjk fics but this chapter was a little bit difficult for me to write. A little bit of backstory and plot building here. Gojo and personal space? Non-existent. You can't tell me that the man wouldn't abuse his flirting rights.

- - -

“Aren’t you a little warm in that top?”

Rina glanced at the high collared t-shirt you were wearing under your mini dress. The top covered the marks that Gojo left on your neck but the material was a little too thick for the summer heat. Thankfully, there was a breeze cooling you off otherwise you would be dripping with sweat.

“I’m fine,” you replied, directing your attention onto the vendors instead of your best friend’s narrowed eyes.

Rina asked you to come along to check out a food festival set up in the city. The entire district was lined with painted stalls which made for a picture perfect scene. The rich aroma of cooked food danced around you, enticing the bustling crowd that was growing in numbers. From golden battered fried takoyaki balls to mouthwatering barbecued yakitori, rainbow cotton candy that sent strings of sugar into the air and sweet kakigori to cleanse the palette…

Everything was making your stomach grumble.

“Oh, let’s get okonomiyaki!” Rina suggested.

After picking up your orders, you both sat at an empty table where you could enjoy your meal. You were ignoring the way Rina continued looking at you suspiciously, clearly not letting go of her obsession with the top you were wearing.

“Okay, that’s it. Let me see it.”

“See what?” you questioned, covering your mouth as you tried to chew on your food.

“The hickey you are hiding.”

You nearly choked as you swallowed but Rina didn’t flinch at your reaction. You patted your chest lightly, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts.

“I’m not hiding anything!” you replied defensively.

Rina rolled her eyes at you, “then at least tell me who the guy is…”

You waved your arm nonchalantly in her direction, desperately trying to avoid getting into a losing battle with your best friend. If there was one person in the world who didn’t need superhuman abilities to tell what you were thinking - it was Rina. She read you like an open book, making it near impossible for you to keep a secret from her. How you managed to go this long without her figuring out you were hooking up with Gojo was a miracle.

“I just want to know exactly what has been keeping you so busy recently,” she continued, “I’m having a hard time believing it’s work because you would be in a miserable mood if you were spending all your free time at the office.”

“ Or we can talk about how absolutely delicious this is...” you blurted, letting her words travel in your ear and out the other as you pointed at the meal in front of you.

Rina lifted her brow, shaking her head in disapproval. She calmly placed her chopsticks on her plate, leaning forward a little closer to you before hooking her finger in the collar of your shirt and tugging it down to check your neck.

“LIAR!”

You clasped your hand over the mark, your eyes widening as you prodded your best friend with your other finger.

“Oh, you are in trouble!” a sly smile spread across her pretty face, “when did you start dating again? I thought you swore off men after what happened with the fitness instructor..”

“Please don’t remind me of him…”

“Then who is this mystery man that you are hiding?”

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to reveal the truth about the deal you and Gojo had made. Yes, you were having fun together and none of it was supposed to be as serious as you were making it out in your head. In fact, Rina would probably applaud you for initiating this to begin with.

But…

Rina also liked to ask hard questions: why were you using him instead of confronting your heartbreak? Why were you chasing after something false instead of trying for real love again? Do you really want to risk ruining the friendship you both have?

Those were questions that you didn’t have the answers to.

“It’s...It’s some guy at work, you don’t know him…” you stated, finally settling on a good enough excuse to satisfy her curiosity

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Just a few weeks…” you fibbed.

“Tell me what he’s like?”

“Uhh…he’s fun, I guess …handsome, kind of charming…but it’s only been a few dates, I still don’t really know him well yet.”

You swallowed hard, hating yourself for not having the courage to tell Rina the truth. Your best friend continued throwing questions at you while your brain spat out the answers before you could even think things through, your guilt twisting your insides with all the lies you were spewing.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner…”

Rina smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I just want you to be happy. If you like this guy, you should give him a chance. Who knows, maybe this could turn into something serious…”

“I am not really looking for anything serious,” you admitted, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “At least not right now…”

How could you want something serious after what happened?

You and your ex-boyfriend were together for five years. You met him when you were both at university and he swept you off your feet. His handsomeness showed through his kind personality and he always managed to make you smile. He was your first of many things, including this painful heartbreak.

You hated yourself for getting comfortable with him, for allowing your mind to plan a future that you both could share. You were disappointed that he made you fall in love with him but more so, that he abandoned you to piece together what was left.

You always felt like you never had your closure. When you asked him why he cheated, he never gave you a solid answer. He was ashamed for keeping his infidelity a secret for so long that his only response was a pathetic apology.

Who was this woman that he was willing to jeopardize your relationship for?

Why did he stop loving you?

You blamed yourself because you couldn’t understand.

One minute you were happy and the next you found yourself betrayed in the worst way possible.

You had enough respect for yourself to know that you couldn’t stay with a man who would treat you this way. When you broke up, you expected him to beg for your forgiveness. He was your prince charming, of course he would come crawling back.

You only knew that he had moved on with his lover when you caught the two of them at the supermarket together. They were buying peas, completely entranced with one another and the adoration that your former boyfriend used to look at you with was now passed on to the woman with golden hair.

He was your weakness and you…

You still loved him.

Rina’s eyes shifted to the crowd, pausing when she recognised a face among the sea of strangers.

“Oh! Look who is over there!”

You glanced over your shoulder, following her line of sight until you saw your dirty little secret wave at you from a distance.

Gojo was eating ice cream, mindlessly swerving around the crowd and looking exceptionally fine in his summer fit. Adorned on the top of his head were cat ears, a little souvenir trinket that some of the vendors were selling at their stalls. His free arm was draped across a teen boy’s shoulder, whose unamused face indicated that he was not keen on being here.

“Rina-chan!” Gojo sang as he approached your table, “it’s nice to see you!”

“You too! How are things?”

“Great! Busy with the usual but today I decided to stop by with my student. This is Megumi…”

The boy awkwardly bowed to greet you and Rina.

“It’s nice to meet you both…”

Gojo’s shades slid down his nose slightly, and you caught a glimpse of those blue eyes. When he winked in your direction, you couldn’t help but blush.

“What are you two up to?” he casually asked.

“Well, I finally got Miss “Busy All The Time” to myself today and we just had some okonomiyaki, that guy over there is selling it…”

Gojo hummed and swirled his tongue around his vanilla ice cream before calmly replying, “I know, she’s been so preoccupied lately! Oi, when are we going to have our catch up session?”

Your face grew warmer, Gojo was good at keeping secrets and him playing off like he hasn’t been the one taking up all of your spare time only resulted in you staring at him with furrowed brows.

Thankfully, Megumi interrupted the conversation.

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” he stated, turning his heel to walk away from your little group.

“I’ll meet up with you in a minute,” Gojo replied with a nod.

“I’m also going to use this opportunity to find the restroom. Gojo can keep you company until I get back,” Rina added, as she stood up from her seat.

Gojo gave her a thumbs up, “happily!”

The sorcerer took Rina’s place, sitting down across from you while his long legs bumped into yours as he adjusted his position. He paused for a moment, watching your friend and his student disperse into the crowd before finally returning his attention back to you.

“Nice outfit by the way but a little warm for today’s weather in my opinion.”

“I wonder whose fault that is…” you mused, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling at his teasing comment, “I bet you think you’re so cute assuming you’re completely innocent in all this.”

Gojo smiled, “Actually, I know I’m cute.”

You couldn’t deny it, even right now as you watched him with those ridiculous cat ears that pulled back his white locks. He definitely was catching the eye of every girl and guy who passed by.

You flicked one of the black ears on his head, “this is a new look for you…”

“I bought it for Megumi but he wasn’t too pleased wearing it around, kept saying that I was embarrassing him...” Gojo explained with a frown.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on your thighs and bringing the ice cream in his hand to your face.

“Want a taste?” he asked innocently.

Your heart skipped a beat, unaware that Gojo would get this close to you in public. He knew that you hadn't told anybody about what you both have been doing and you wondered if he was deliberately trying to put you in an awkward position. You subconsciously scanned the crowd to see if Rina or Megumi were around.

You tilted your head back slightly before asking, “do you understand the concept of personal space?”

“Relax,” Gojo said in a low voice, “no one is paying attention to us.”

“What if they come back…”

“I’ll see them before they see us,” he replied with confidence, grazing his free hand over your thigh. “Besides, you look like you could use something to cool you off…”

You arched your brow, deciding to give in and play this little flirtation game. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your hand around his slender fingers and slowly leaning forward to lick the ice cream off his cone. You kept your gaze on Gojo, focusing on the devilish smirk that spread across his lips as he watched with approval.

“Mmm, that is good…” you moaned, before looking at him with glittering eyes, “wait, I didn’t get any ice cream on my face, did I?”

Gojo chuckled under his breath, “you’ve got a little something right here…”

His hand moved up to your face, his fingers holding your chin as he brought your lips to his. You inhaled, holding your breath as you were caught off guard by him stealing a kiss. The moment was fleeting and before you knew it, he parted his lips from yours but trailed his hand down your neck to take a peek at the hickey he left on your skin.

“I usually don’t care about where I mark you but if it’s a big concern I’ll make sure to do it in places where only I can see…”

Even though he spoke in a low whisper, you felt like it was loud enough for the whole crowd to hear how flustered you just got by his words.

You cleared your throat, turning your face away from him to regain your composure. “Behave, Satoru…”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “I could keep going but Rina will be back in any minute…”

You sensed a hint of annoyance in his voice when he said that.

The sorcerer leaned back, inviting the space that separated you both as he ate his ice cream with indifference. Sometimes you wish you could flip the switch as easily as he did but you found it impossible.

Rina arrived before you could even respond to his statement.

“What did I miss?” she asked, patting Gojo lightly on the shoulder to request returning to her seat.

“Nothing special,” Gojo answered with a shrug as he stood up , “I think I’m going to head back and find this kid before he leaves without me knowing.”

“Enjoy the rest of your evening! Also, you should stop by the candy shop sometime. I’ve been working on some new treats I think you might like…”

“I will,” he promised, stretching the lying game even further. He proceeded to remove the headband he was wearing, his white hair flopping over his shades as he handed you the cat ears. “Hold on to these for me won’t you…”

You took it, puzzled by the sudden gesture.

“What for?”

“Just an excuse to pick it up from you later,” he remarked innocently, “otherwise I’ll never see you!”

Rina laughed, clearly not catching on to his hidden invitation. Gojo waved goodbye and walked away, leaving you both to return to your date.

For a moment you thought your lie was about to catch up to you but realised that it was easy keeping this secret because nobody would expect you to hook up with Gojo.

You guys have been playing this song and dance for a while, saving your flirtatious banter and curiosities for when you two were alone together. Maybe you’ll come clean eventually, but for now you wanted to enjoy the bubble you were in.

You played with the cat ears in your hand, completely unaware that you were smiling to yourself.

- CHAPTER 7: GAMES -

#Gojo Satoru x reader #Gojo Satoru x you #Gojo Satoru x ofc #Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru fan fic #Gojo smut #Gojo fluff #Gojo angst #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x female reader #Gojo Satoru smut #Gojo Satoru fan fiction #jjk

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shelbywanders · 4 years ago

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“Dear pregnant, glowing, happy friend,

Let’s cut to the chase: Yes I did ignore the scan photo, the maternity pictures where I’m sure you’re gently holding your swelling bump & gazing wistfully into the distance (I haven’t looked to be honest) and your invitation to the baby shower. There are no hearts or comments from me on those. I’ve put you on mute.

You have plenty of friends, half of whom are pregnant like you so I hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you clearly have. I hear you’re a bit upset with me over this. I’m honestly not a horrible person, so here’s why you’re suddenly dead to me, and I hope that you can try to understand:

I can’t stand looking at pregnant women at the moment, and unfortunately I can’t make an exception for you. Yes, you’re more than a walking womb – you’re my friend & we’ve got history, so how dare I ignore you just because you got pregnant, right? What kind of evil witch does that?

This cuts both ways though – as my friend you know exactly what I’ve been through trying to get pregnant. You see, I’m currently an infertile woman and you’re a pregnant woman, and absolutely everyone is happy to throw my mental health under a bus to make a fuss of you. Including you. I’m expected to suck it up for you, but it’s the end of the world if I expect the same consideration. That’s just the way it is apparently – I don’t make the rules.

We have all said “Be kind!” but do we mean it?

It doesn’t matter how much we say “be kind!” and “mental health is important!” when you’re a woman that’s not able to make babies. My mental health matters less than a like on a picture of a scan to some people – and definitely less than a party. You can withdraw our friendship because you think that I owe you the appropriate amount of fawning over your baby shower, even though you know I’m in the middle of IVF. Yes, that sounds appalling, I’m not proud of saying that, but as I will continue to mention – this is a mental health issue – it’s not about manners.

It is not your fault that you don’t understand what’s going on with women like me, and I’m not actually mad with you for that. I’m mad with a society that treats infertile women like they’re selfishly making a fuss, if they dare to try and excuse themselves from the carnival of joy that follows a pregnant woman into the office and beyond. That seems to forget about us & then gets annoyed when it’s reminded that we do exist. That can laugh kindly and be understanding about the emotional behaviour of a pregnant woman, but is quick to label us selfish or drama queens or jealous, if we are sensitive about trauma triggers such as pregnancy. It feels like we’re pitted against each other somehow, and it’s so unfair. We have phrases like “hormones” and “baby brain” to ensure that we make space for a pregnant woman’s reactions and emotions, but we don’t have a way to tactfully say to pregnant women “Hey, maybe you should give your friend with fertility struggles some space and not shove that big old pretty bump in her face right now!”

Of course pregnant women are in a vulnerable and unique position, and pregnancy is hard and of course we should all look out for them. I’m just saying – anonymously, because I know how deep this goes in society, that maybe we don’t have to routinely disregard the mental health of infertility sufferers, for the sake of special parties and social niceties? Those things could take place without us. You could graciously excuse us from all of that, if you knew how deep our suffering runs.

Instead we’re expected to fawn over people who (innocently) trigger our deepest feelings of sadness and anger, with a fake smile on our face and a congratulations card – and I’m sick of it. We’re all sick of it, but I’m just especially sick of it at the moment. I don’t deserve it – and you don’t deserve this bitter version of me that exists at the moment. What if I could just say hey – congratulations but I’m just having a hard time with this because I can’t get pregnant myself. You could say “OK, good luck with that. Not going to be offended if you don’t get involved right now, but you’re always welcome in the future!”

What if we could handle infertility vs pregnancy better?

So we don’t currently handle it that well, and I’m going to miss your whole pregnancy, and that’s obviously a big deal, right? I don’t actually want to miss a huge chunk of your life, but here’s the kicker – I have to. For my mental health. Because it’s just as important as your mental health. You, as a woman who hasn’t had fertility issues, and apparently got pregnant just by glancing at your husband’s penis in the shower- have no idea what’s happening to me. You will think – as society tells you to, that I am being bitter and uncaring and mean because it’s just in my nature to be like that. That I’m making it “all about me”, when I actually just want to slink away unnoticed. But why would you know any better if no-one ever tells you this stuff or talks about it? Can we just bloody stop this merry-go-round and get real about it please? I’m not mean or uncaring – I’m just struggling with pregnancy. Including yours.

Give me a pass for heaven’s sake. I couldn’t even cope if my cat got pregnant right now, never mind someone I went shopping at Tammy Girl with. Pregnancy is deeply, horribly triggering when you desperately wanted a baby and tried your hardest, but instead you had a miscarriage, a chemical pregnancy, a failed embryo implant, an ectopic pregnancy, a termination for medical reasons or a stillbirth. Show me a woman with fertility struggles who hasn’t had at least one of those. A scan is the very last thing you want to look at. A baby shower is the last place in the universe you want to be. But I’m not allowed to simply say “Thanks so much for the invite, truly happy for you but can’t deal with pregnancy RN because I’m doing IVF again” in case it impinges for five seconds upon your fairy-tale. I wonder if I’ll be the same if I ever get pregnant. Probably not, knowing what I know now.

Fertility struggles have given me a new perspective

So what is it that I know now? That infertility is traumatic. That IVF is mentally and physically hard, and it doesn’t always work. That it can cause relationship strain and feelings of inadequacy and mental health challenges galore. Financial struggles. Hormonal drugs. Constant stupid comments from people who don’t understand. There’s something else too.

Women with fertility issues have to track everything – periods, ovulations and appointments. They are often acutely aware of how old their own lost and maybe-babies would have been at any given time, as well as the ongoing sense of loss they experience from not being able to have a baby. Nature has a really cruddy way of timing baby showers in the same month as our due-dates that never were. Your baby shower is two weeks after my due date 2 years ago. I should be bringing my nearly 2 year old with me. See, I told you we track everything.

Do you really want me to explain that I’d be bringing the baggage of my lost child with me to this party? Do I owe you that? Or could you, you know, just be understanding that baby showers might just be a little bit hard for someone that’s been trying to get pregnant for longer than you’ve known your husband?

So that’s my confession, and I’m going to passive-aggressively post it on my wall and hope that you read it. I can’t come to you with my truth, because I’d risk “stressing you out” and “making it all about me” if I did. I can’t just suck it up, because my mental health is too fragile for that right now. So here I am as a woman with fertility struggles, asking for a little understanding from my friends. Can we call a truce? Can we be more honest with each other? Can we accept that pregnancy is wonderful for you but hard for others? As a woman trying so hard for a baby, I live in hope.”

https://bestfertility-now.com/letter-to-my-pregnant-friend-your-happiness-and-my-mental-health-are-not-compatible/?fbclid=IwAR2YARsPG6r_GLntyasTkwhf_fVJ_XTfG6YbMX6BEdpa6BGOlh9jR1EaB5g

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago

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Affection (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale

Word count: 1,5 k

Summary: OH3 Chapter 14 rewrite. Ethan supports Claire on the day of her Boards exam like a good boyfriend.

Warnings: None

A/N: I don’t know who the imposter in the book is. I don’t know this man. I also haven’t played the chapter yet, so that’s saying a lot. One could say this is what Ethan Ramsey could have been in book 3, but PB is playin.

„Call me as soon as the exam is over.” He muttered while pulling her closer. His lips found her hairline, pressing against it time and time again in short pecks.

“You’ve got it, boss.” She teased, earning herself a pinch to the side. He let her lean away an inch, just enough to let them see each other again.

“Keep that work up and you’re going to be my boss before we know it.” Ethan gave her a smirk, his eyes filling up with pride. It warmed her up from the inside, his belief in her so overwhelming, she almost started crying.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” It was Claire’s turn to smirk, slipping her hands beneath his sweater to feel his skin. A shiver ran through him, betraying his obvious interest in her, in any and every way.

“I’m serious, though.” He tightened his hold, his gaze intensifying. “I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

“Maybe I should torture you by not calling you, then.”

“… Noted.” He nodded his head, shame crossing his face. She smiled softly, a quiet sigh escaping her. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Though, I can’t lie, I appreciate you being the better half of me and not making the same mistakes your idiot boyfriend did.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, babe.” Claire laughed, standing on the tips of her toes to brush her nose against his. He moved his arms to surround her shoulders, his lips pressing against her cheek tenderly.

They remained entwined for a long time, gently swaying once in a while. He knew that he’d have to let her go sometime, but he was nowhere near ready to do so. He always missed her the moment she left his side. She wasn’t leaving forever – just a couple of hours until he’d see her again at the party. Claire didn’t even have to ask if he’d be there. He hated parties, but he wouldn’t dream of missing this one.

At last, his hold loosened, allowing her to step out of his embrace. Their eyes met again. Ethan nodded, certainty flooding to his face.

“Give them hell in there.”

His eyes searched the room for her – they always did. It took a while, but he finally found her, dancing with Sienna and Aurora. Her laughter was engraved into his mind so much that he heard it above the music – which was terrible, by the way – and overshadowed everything else. He decided to let her celebrate with her friends before joining them.

“The prodigy boyfriend returns.” He heard Tobias’s voice from behind him. Upon turning around, he felt his hand on his shoulder, slapping it slightly. Ethan hesitated when he heard what Tobias had said, his forehead creasing.

“What did she tell you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything, I just heard her leaving you a voicemail and I connected the dots.” He explained, easing Ethan’s mind a bit. But only a bit. He could see it in Tobias’s eyes, the judgement of his poor actions. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re getting your shit together.”

“Why do I feel like you wanted to say something else?” He tried to fight the grin, but ultimately lost, both men now laughing. Tobias raised his hands in surrender.

“She’s your girlfriend, I’m not saying anything. It’s just good to see you two back together.” He punched Ethan’s shoulder slightly. “Since you’re insufferable without her, and all.”

“How dare you.” Ethan laughed a bit louder, shaking his head. His eyes found Claire again, noticing her now standing off to the side by the table, talking to her friends. He excused himself from Tobias and walked over to her.

She stood with her back turned to him, allowing him to sneak up on her and wrap his arms around her. His lips brushed her cheek.

“How big of a bottle of champagne am I to buy for our celebration?” he muttered against her skin, laughing at the excited sound she made when she realized it was him.

She twirled in his embrace and threw her arms over his shoulders. Ethan kissed her cheek, then pulled her closer, hiding his face in her neck and pressing his lips to her skin again.

“The biggest one there is.” She giggled, brushing his hair back. He straightened his back, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His eyes caught hers, staring into them, silent for a moment.

“I missed you.” he mused, his voice low. Claire smiled softly, closing her eyes and focusing solely on the feeling of him by her side. When she looked at him again, she found an adoring smile lighting up his face.

“I’m here now. What are you going to do about it?”

“For now, I’m going to compliment your clothes. You’re putting everyone to shame, me included.” His hands moved to the small of her back, spreading his fingers to hug her tighter.

“High praise, coming from someone looking the way you do.” she winked, her nails scratching his neck. Ethan shook his head, then brushed his lips against her hairline.

“Ramsey, feel free to take her dancing. She’s been restless after the test, seems to me like she needs to blow some steam off.” Jackie noted, pulling the couple’s attention to the people gathered around the table. Aurora and Sienna nodded in confirmation, while Rafael grinned.

“Dancing or any other form of blowing off steam. Just, please, without details.”

“Or with details, that’s up to you.” Bryce joined in, nudging Ethan with his elbow. Claire blushed, hiding her face in her hands.

“Someone take that drink away from Lahela, he’s had more than enough already.” Ethan smirked, then looped his arm around Claire’s waist. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

They made their way to the dancefloor, choosing the very far end of it to gain some privacy. They wrapped their arms around each other, her forehead resting against his chin as they began to sway to the music.

“This is nice.” She commented, closing her eyes to immerse herself in that moment with him. Ethan hummed, changing the angle of his head slightly to press his lips to her skin.

“I agree. I don’t even mind all the commotion of the party.”

“That’s odd. What happened?” she joked, pinching his arm playfully.

“You’re here. I need nothing else.”

“Uh huh.” Claire grinned, leaning back to look at him. She saw hesitation in every move he made towards her. Every brush of his fingers, every look he sent her way, every embrace he engulfed her in – it all felt uncertain. And they both knew why.

Since their conversation in the Opera, he hasn’t kissed her on the lips. Anywhere else was fair game, his favorites being cheeks and forehead – he’s always been affectionate with her, but now, it’s all she’s been experiencing. She’s seen him eyeing her lips, like he used to do back when he still tried to stay away from her, but he hasn’t acted on his desires since that night.

He seemed afraid of pushing her too far. Aware of his errors, he, more than anything else, didn’t want to commit them again.

“Ethan, what’s going on?” she decided to ask, placing her hands on both sides of his face to make their eyes meet. He hesitated, then breathed out heavily.

“I don’t want to take you for granted. I did once, and I almost lost you.”

“You’re not taking me for granted by kissing me.” she argued, leaning up a fraction. Ethan continued, staring into her eyes.

“You’re too important to me, Claire. It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. I could kiss you every moment of every day for the rest of my life and I’d never need or want anything else, believe me.”

“Then do it.”

“Do what?” he asked, confused. She grinned at his adorableness, then climbed onto the tips of her toes, pulling him down towards her by his neck at the same time.

“Kiss me, Ethan. We’re not going to break.” Her words were barely heard above the music, but just enough to send his brain into overdrive.

He pressed his lips to hers, slowly at first, carefully. Once he realized that she wasn’t leaving, wasn’t disappearing from his side, his embrace tightened, and he kissed her harder. The intensity made him feverish, the sensation stealing his breath. Claire gripped the lapel of his jacket tightly, pulling him to her enthusiastically.

They came up for air, greedily stealing oxygen from their surroundings. Ethan didn’t let her step away even for an inch, both of them still as close together as they were seconds ago. Claire traced the features of his face with her fingers in wonder.

“Yeah, we’re definitely not going to break.”

Notes

I tell myself I don’t have time to write because exams are coming up, and then I proceed to attempt to clean up the mess PB is making out of OH. Oh, to be a hoe with at least some self control.

This fic takes place after my last one - hence the mention of the Opera conversation. I want this man to show growth, not for him to retreat to his starting position like PB is making him do. That ain’t funny and it sure as hell isn’t entertaining.

Thank you for reading! <3

Tagging separately

#open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc

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himboarcher · 4 years ago

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reasons i've seen folks say that grad critics hate grad:

they hate travis (in fairness, i’ve def seen some comments of people shitting on trav for the sake of shitting on trav, but it’s not super common and typically gets downvoted into oblivion on reddit.)

it's not balance / travis isn't griffin (???????)

they hate neurodivergent people (again, in fairness, i have seen a handful of comments that could come across this way! but most of the time when travis being ADHD or his NPD is brought up, it's by defenders saying that criticizing travis is ableist because he's neurodivergent or, in one particular comment, infantilizing him bc of it and literally comparing grad to putting a kid's artwork on the fridge. there were some comments early on that pointed to him being a narcissist as the reason for things people disliked about grad, but everyone seems to have realized that that's a shitty train of thought and left it behind.)

they're just toxic haters (again, there are a small handful of people like this because this is the internet, but the genuine criticism greatly outweighs their bullshit. i 100% think that the people, which is mostly just one dude who is also insufferable on reddit, who have been responding rudely to positive tweets under the episode announcements lately are out of line and need to stop. there's been an influx of that lately, presumably because people are frustrated that after over a year of grad going on, there's been no improvement to most of the major issues. that's still no excuse to be a dick to folks, though.)

vs some of the actual reasons i don't like grad:

the racism / racist tropes, and the way that they’ve straight up ignored this criticism and will likely never acknowledge it. pretty wild considering a core tenet of their brand is their willingness to acknowledge when they’ve messed up and do their best to course correct.

clumsy attempts at inclusion that are shallow and often end up being fairly offensive ("...ask me about my wheelchair," anyone?)

on a related note: i don't think that travis had bad intentions, but as an nonbinary person, it feels othering to me that travis only has enby characters give others their pronouns unprompted. i'm thinking specifically of kai here. having listened to their introduction, i don't think it's as bad or awkward as some people have said, but i can't remember travis ever having another NPC tell the PCs their pronouns, especially not a cis character. it's not a huge deal, but it's something that rubbed me the wrong way. admittedly, i don't think it would bother me so much if travis hadn't dropped the ball so much with performative inclusion in the past.

okay i'm putting the rest under a read more because even without getting into all of the problems i have with it, this got Long.

little to no player agency. player choices are ultimately meaningless and have little to no effect on the world. even when he seems to go along with a plan they come up with, it always ends with them having to go back to travis' pre-written script (see: subpoenaing the xorn, but not really because they had to go with travis' original plan of "send the xorn home through the rift".) the players repeatedly get told things about what they think or feel or what they've been doing to an unnecessary degree. fitzroy is the only one who really gets space to play and decide things for himself, and that's only because travis has decided he's the main character.

the NPCs are all too nice and willing to give the PCs anything they ask for and more, unless the PCs are trying to follow their own plan and then the NPCs are completely useless. but honestly, aside from gray, all of the NPCs are just.... nice. travis refuses to even let his antagonists be mean or cruel or even more than just slightly rude, because that'd be a bummer and we don't want that! the "twist" of gordy the lich king actually being polite and chill is not a twist at all because everyone is like that in this world. the NPCs are also wildly overpowered, but then suddenly absolutely useless when the PCs actually want their help.

too many cliffhangers that are dropped immediately at the beginning of the next episode. i feel bad for travis because so many of these cliffhangers actually set up good momentum and seemed like things were gonna get interesting, but almost every single time he just dropped them at the beginning of the next episode. like when althea showed up to interview the boys and the next episode started with travis being like "actually you went to sleep, she said she'll be back tomorrow!"

that time travis specifically said in his exposition dump that the thundermen left their horses behind because they thought the centaurs might be offended by them riding horses, only to later on rag on them for being surprised that the centaurs had horses they could ride.....

also the centaur arc in general, but i already listed racism above, so.

the way that the toxic positivity and parasocial tendencies in the mcelroy fandoms have made a large portion of the fandom take ANY criticism as a personal attack on travis and/or on themselves for enjoying something others consider bad, either morally or just quality-wise. it’s okay to admit that something you like has problematic elements or just isn’t as good as it once was. you can and should engage critically with the media you consume.

related to above: the way travis has handled genuine criticism, which is to throw public tantrums on his twitter or make weird passive aggressive tweets & ultimately ignore all the genuine criticism and advice he's been offered by claiming it's all subjective, even after he specifically asked for it and set up an email for folks to send in genuine, objective advice for him (after he threw a tantrum on twitter and replied to someone's criticism publicly, which resulted in his followers dogpiling on that person bc how dare they insult their internet best friend). while i was writing this last night, he actually announced that he’s taking a break from Twitter and acknowledged that he’s been using it as an echo chamber where he can easily get validation from folks, and honestly i’m happy for him that he’s recognized this problem and is stepping away for a while! i hope he’ll genuinely use this time to reflect on how he’s been behaving and find a more healthy way to use social media. i’m leaving this point in because i think his Twitter being such a positive echo chamber was encouraging him to do stuff like this, and him somewhat acknowledging his behavior doesn’t mean it can no longer be discussed.

rainer. extremely cool concept in theory and i was very into it until that awkward "does anyone want to ask about my wheelchair?" moment. also when travis had her use her mobility aid to RAM INTO A DOOR instead of just fucking knocking???? also all the times travis has tried to force a romantic relationship between her and fitzroy, despite fitzroy displaying no interest in her in that way. also, just to clarify: as an ace person, i don’t think this is aphobic! (and it’s kind of a stretch to call it that imo, especially since griffin never explicitly said that fitzroy's aromantic!) i just think it’s weird and awkward and a little uncomfortable for me personally, mostly because it reminds me of the times i’ve been in similar situations.

less of a problem than a lot of the other stuff and more just bad writing, but the forced emotional moments. in general, nothing in grad feels earned (why are the boys heading a war? when they have multiple actual heroes with combat experience on their side and a supposedly powerful secret organization? and the thundermen are like 21 years old max and have only had like ~10 fights in the entire campaign?) but there've been a couple times where travis has tried to force unearned emotional moments, presumably because he knows people enjoyed those with the last campaigns. but the difference is that in balance, the big emotional moments happened because they were earned. in grad, it's just travis throwing a baby pegasus at us for a few minutes and then the next time she shows up, it's supposed to be a tearful goodbye.

there are absolutely no stakes. remember when the thundermen got told that if they left, gray would kill 10 students? and then they left and came back and it turns out that what gray actually meant was, "i'll tie ten students who are mostly nameless NPCs to a tree and throw some dogs at them that you can easily stop in time, then throw a tantrum because how dare you but i'll leave before you can really do anything to hurt me lol" travis did have fitzroy's magic get taken away, but like. it didn't really do anything? also all he had to get it back was be coerced into using drugs by an authority figure and trip in the woods?

we're told that the school is weird and the hero system is corrupt, but the world of nua is still presented as more of a liberal utopia than anything? althea getting fired because of a corrupt villain is the only time we've somewhat seen corruption, but even then, she was still allowed to get (what seems to me, anyway, but admittedly i don't know for sure bc nothing about the HOG makes much sense) a fairly important job from the very people who stripped her of her hero license or whatever the fuck heroes need?

travis doesn't actually seem to understand how capitalism or bureaucracy works and just chalks up everything to "red tape." also more on the rest of the boys than him specifically, but the "let's destroy capitalism!" thing turning into just pushing some filing cabinets over................... okay.

and one last piece of extremely subjective criticism: it's just kind of.... boring. i think a lot of people, myself included, would be willing to overlook 90% of the problems with graduation if it didn't feel like such a slog to get through.

also people saying that we can't or shouldn't criticize graduation because it's "free" is absolutely absurd for several reasons. first, something being free does not make it above criticism. second, there ARE people who directly financially support the show with monthly donations. three, there's a difference between something being free and something being not for profit. podcasting is their full time job. they make their living off of money made from TAZ and MBMBAM (and probably their other shows to a lesser extent). this not a fun home game that they are graciously recording and sharing with us. it is a product they are producing that they make money off of, both from ads in the episodes and merch & books based off of these podcasts. they have marketed themselves as professionals, and both griffin and travis have been on panels where they are marketed as professional DMs and appear alongside other professional DMs (which makes it incredibly frustrating when people say that travis is just a newbie DM and we can't criticize him because of that. if he's a newbie, then he should not be taking part of panels as a professional DM where he speaks as an expert). TAZ is free in the same way that an episode of NCIS is free. i may not pay for it directly, but the creators are paid to create it and profit off of me consuming this product. so saying we should be grateful for any mcelnoise that the benevolent good boys share with us and that we're not allowed to criticize it "because it's free" is absolutely wild.

#negativity cw #i guess #anyway this is not meant to say that you cannot enjoy grad.#but i'm tired of folks on this website acting like there aren't genuine problems with it #and saying that people just dislike it bc they hate travis etc etc #taz graduation #i genuinely don't expect anyone to read this bc it's so long #but here ya go.#long post

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booksonablog · 4 years ago

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Robby Keene Headcanon

Request: May I request Dating headcanon about Robby Keene with a Fem s/o? Pls🥺 (P.O.C. reader 4c hair type, appreciation/being attracted to skin color, comfort from racist)

Author’s Note: This may be my first headcanon, as I’m not too positive of the difference, but I swear I did my research, Enjoy! Also I got too excited so I’m sorry if it seems like the ramblings of a lunatic

Dating Robby Keene Would Include:

Lots of intimate connection

Whether it was small things like hand holding, playing with each other’s hair or sitting together in solitude, he truly enjoyed connecting with you

You can expect lots of hair playing

He loved the small curls of your hair. He’d admire it any chance he got, but he’d love to twirl each individual thread between his fingers.

Sometimes when you were tired, you’d lay your head in his lap and you’d find his hand tangled in your hair. Even in mid-conversation with someone else, he’d still be caught twisting a curl around his finger

He’d slip flowers into your hair when the two of you would lay in the grass on a picnic at the park

Once, he asked you to teach him to do your hair. You admired his curiosity and gladly showed him a few hairstyles you often did with your hair. He’d pay attention with a focused eye and when it was his turn he was very careful. He wasn’t great with it at first, your hair popping out on one side, but he’d eventually grasp the concept, he was persistent. You’d end up throwing on a movie as you sat on the ground between his legs - he’d have your hair in his hands, his tongue sticking out. He was so happy once he accomplished at least two styles as good as you’d do them. There are at least 50 photos in the album he’s dedicated to you that are just you showing off how perfectly he did your hair.

He’d let you play with his hair and braid it

He comforted you when you were upset & he was always there when you needed him

If you needed help with homework, or needed a study buddy, he was already offering his assistance, and he was very good at it. He remained focused, no funny business, always made sure you 100% understood the material before moving on, and he’d only ask for kisses in exchange.

Asks you randomly what things make you happy, when you ask him why he asked he said he’s making a list of what to do when you’re sad

He followed the handy little list he made ahead of time

He even created a “Happy Box” of some of those things on that list for the occasions when he wasn’t available

As soon as he was available he’d be ready with open arms

He’d pull you to his chest and let you cry till & if you were comfortable enough to tell him what was wrong

He’d plant soft kisses on the inside of your palm after wiping the tears off your face

He’d stay with you for as long as you’d allow him, during this time he’d tell you to get cozy as he’d run to the store to get both of you some candy & you’d have a netflix night

He’d teach you everything he’s been learning from Daniel

Hanging out with the Larusso’s at their pool

He admired how your skin glistened in the sun & how every color suited you so perfectly

The Larussos loved you - who wouldn’t!?

When you weren’t around, Sam would whisper to him how perfect you were for him, that he was even happier than when her dad took him in

You’d encourage him to make amends with his dad. He’d be hesitant but he listened to your reasoning and he trusted what you had to say

Which led him to finally responding to Johnny’s request on taking him out to dinner. They actually had a great time! They laughed, they cried, and they spoke about you. Johnny was happy to see his son happy.

They started to get along so well that Johnny wanted to meet you!

When Robby told you this, you immediately felt the rush of nerves erupting in your stomach, though he assured you that you’d be okay

Johnny took the two of you out to the same arcade he used to hangout at. Afterwards he took you guys out for milkshakes.

When Robby had excused himself to the bathroom, Johnny had thanked you for bringing the two of them together. You saw him get a little emotional, even you got a little teary eyed. You kept the moment as a secret between the two of you

Going to the skate park together

You knew Robby was no quitter as he tried time and time again to accomplish this one obstacle in particular

The two of you celebrated once he did - his fists up with a grin as you’d run up to him, he’d pick you up and spin you around, the two of you giggling

Unfortunately, when you tried the obstacle you ended up with a cut knee

Not so unfortunately for you, he’d carry you to the nearest bench where he’d bandage you up. He’d place a kiss on top of the band-aid, winking up at you.

Sometimes you would text him in the middle of class, “Wish you were here 🥺” and he’d reply with, “Right outside 😘”

He’d wait for you outside of school, sometimes with your favorite treat

Once in a blue moon, he’d sneak into the lunchroom at your school & kept you company during lunch

In the times when he couldn’t visit, you’d find funny little notes from him hidden away in your backpack

Having a lazy day together

The two of you resting on a hammock: you - sound asleep on his chest while his foot hangs off the side, gently rocking it back and forth

He snuck you out some nights to go stare at the stars

Sharing a dessert at a local diner

Walking down the shore, eating ice cream and watching the sunset together

The two of you would receive stares of disapproval when you would hold hands - he would pause, hold your face in his hands & plant a breathless kiss

He enjoyed seeing you in your space, the expression when you thought no one was watching, to him, that was true beauty

Purchased flowers for you just because

Makeout sessions in places where it was just the two of you

Will look out for your well being, not just because you’re dating but because he truly cared about you

“Did you get home okay”

“Be safe”

The two of you actually met by him pretending to be your boyfriend when he watched as someone had been following you

Will speak up if he thinks you’re being unsafe

Being complimented as the cutest couple

Hope you guys enjoyed this one! I love Robby and I think he is a sweet little puppy with good intentions, so this was fun to write. Additionally, I really appreciate the request for a p.o.c. reader. I myself have encountered imagines where the reader is described with blonde hair and blue eyes, and while there is nothing wrong with a person that fits that description, I have to pause my reading and adjust the words in my head to suit what I look like (I myself am a p.o.c. reader.) I try to write my imagines with the reader in mind, trying to keep little to no description of the reader so the person reading can easily imagine themselves into the story. With that being said, I was elated writing this prompt, I don’t think people understand how important representation in writing is (mind you I am still learning.)

Requests are always open! 💕

Tags:

@ceooflovingpizza

#robby keene imagine #robby keene #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #tanner buchanan #tanner buchanan imagine #imagine blog #fanfic #imagine #headcanon #robby keene headcanon #poc reader #poc imagine

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puppyluvstummies · 4 years ago

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hey hunnies, thanks for checking out my blog! you can call me peanut, please read this before following or messaging me!

🍄 you must be 18+ to interact with me! if you’re under 18, you’re getting BLOCKED. if you don’t have your age in your bio, you’re getting BLOCKED. i do not want to interact with anyone who might be a minor, please respect that.

🍄 yes, this is a kink blog for feedism. if that grosses you out, kindly just leave, block me if you want.

🍄 if i reblog something from you and you want it removed for whatever reason, please let me know and i’ll take it down asap

🍄 i’ll generally only post/reblog sfw kink content. if something involves s*x/n*dity, it’ll be tagged #nsfw

🍄 i am a fat admirer/feeder, i am not a feedee.

🍄 i am a bisexual enby. my pronouns are they/them only, even if i refer to myself as a girl from time to time (for convenience, gender is confusing). if i think you’re a sexist, homophobe, or transphobe, kindly choke 💕

🍄 i am black!! if i think you are a racist, meaning you support/excuse racism, do not support BLM or ACAB, don’t care about racial injustice, or fetishize black people (with terms like ebony, cocoa, chocolate, etc) kindly choke 💕

🍄 this is a soft(er) feedism blog. just because it is a kink doesn’t mean it can’t still be consensual, respectful and body positive. death feedism, glorification of eating disorders, fatphobia, fetishizing obesity-related illnesses (diabetes, heart attacks, etc), degradation of any kind, and non-consensual fat shaming (including pig/cow play) are not allowed here. i don’t have beef with death feedism, just not into it myself.

🍄 i’m not into immobility or serious mobility issues. i am not into vore. i am not into scat. i am not into harsh/intense bd//sm. i am not into dd//lg or adjacent kinks. all of these, though i have no problem with them, turn me off. just because it’s your kink doesn’t mean it’s mine. post what you want, but please keep it on your blog

🍄 this blog may have some pet play as well. while i am not necessarily a furry, furries are absolutely welcome on this blog! i am not into age play or age regressing but it doesn’t bother me and is also welcome. z**philia, b**stiality and p*dophilia are absolutely not welcome and you will be blocked. all pet play fantasies are between consenting adult humans only.

🍄 fetishizing candid photos of fat people just existing without their consent is gross

🍄 editing photos of people without their consent is gross

🍄 stealing content from models/content creators is gross (i try to check before posting but if i accidentally/unknowingly rb stolen content, pls lmk!!)

🍄 drawing kink art of real people without consent or minors, fictional or not, is gross

🍄 i personally do not like feedist discussions with people i don’t know. i’m not interested in being anyone’s feeder unless we have an actual relationship (platonic or romantic). if you want to chat with me, please do not assume i want to see your belly/genitals. we can talk, but that’s it unless we come to know each other a bit more. i may be open to rp with or without ocs

🍄 i’m often busy with school or work; pls don’t expect me to respond right away. if i don’t respond ever, do yourself a favor and take the hint ♥️

🍄 if you are a cishet man, do not message me. follow, reblog, even comment, but do not dm me, i will not respond. yes, i’m still bisexual. no, i don’t wanna tease you or sext you or date you or meet you. i’ve had too many bad experiences with y’all and i’m over it. ♥️

tl;dr i just want this blog to be a respectful, safe space to express this kink. always keep in mind that there are human beings on the other end of what you post and we all just want to have a good time horny-posting. thanks for reading, loves!!

#non kink #about me

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harpyloon · 4 years ago

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little red

Pairing: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley (BUT this is more of a Ginny Weasley and Sirius Black friendship HC if you will)

Summary: “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. - Chapter 33: Fight and Flight (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)

Warnings: Small battle scene, minor mentions of blood and injuries, small mentions of death... I think that’s about it? Mostly fluff and humor.

Word Count: 6.8k+ (oops)

A/N: hello! This is my first time posting an HP fic here so I hope you'll be kind! This idea has been an itch in my brain I've been wanting to scratch ever since I re-read OOTP. It's mostly canon apart from the ending (y'all know what ending I'm talking about lol). Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Order of the Phoenix missing moments

Read on AO3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sirius always knew. He thinks he's known from the very beginning, but even more so when he chanced upon her creeping down the rickety stairs of Grimmauld Place—clutching a hand full of round mud brown pellets that looked all too familiar—with a mischievous glint in her eyes and lips pursed in strict concentration. With as little noise as she could possibly yield, she made it to the bottom of the second landing, eyeing the offending door with the equally offending Silencing Charms casted to muffle whatever it was the "children" were not allowed to hear.

Leaning over the bannister to get a good view of her target, her fiery red mane tumbled over one shoulder like a curtain, concealing half of her determined face from Sirius who was gazing up at the show with amusement; he was suddenly in no hurry to get back to the meeting that was getting fouler by the day. Although the sounds were muffled, he knew exactly how riled up everyone was behind that door, the very reason he had to step out in the first place.

Fighting in the first war, Sirius knew that every moment for members of the Order of the Phoenix was as good as their last. "We might as well seal our deaths," James's voice echoed through his thoughts at the distant memory of him and his friends officially joining the Order that one bleak winter evening. He could still feel Lily's grip on both his and James's hands as she sat between the two, not once glancing at anyone as Dumbledore spelled out every possible danger being a member of the Order would entail.

"Might as well," Lily breathed out and looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye, "Count us in."

Dumbledore didn't need to look at the rest of the gentleman for approval. Lily might have been James's woman, but whatever Lily Evans said the Marauders always followed.

Almost always.

"Ah, crud."

Sirius is yanked back into the dreary hall of Grimmauld Place, just as a putrid ball of manure bounces off the charmed kitchen door and zooms past the cobwebby chandelier, straight for his startled face. Times like these made Sirius truly grateful for his canine instincts, as he stepped aside just in the nick of time.

The mud brown ball splattered onto a worn-out tapestry, right beside the large troll’s leg umbrella stand.

"Oops."

He glanced back up at Ginny Weasley who was grinning sheepishly down at him from the second landing, "Sorry, Sirius."

"Good aim," said Sirius, winking up at her, "Although I believe your mother has the door Imperturbed, little red."

Ginny scrunched up her nose and it reminded him too much of another red head he knew, "That's no good. Well if Dungbombs won’t work then it's a long shot for Fred and George's Extendable Ears."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "Extendable Ears?"

Ginny waved a hand, "Eavesdropping contraptions they made up over the summer—" she stopped short and eyed Sirius warily, "Will you tell? Because if mum finds out, you didn't hear it from me."

Sirius grinned. As if anyone would expect Sirius Black, 1/4 of the Marauders, to ever tattle about anyone's mischief. "Bound me by oath, I shall tell no living soul."

Ginny sighed in relief and tucked her hair behind her ears, leaning over the bannister even further. If Sirius didn't catch the tips of her shoes hooked through the railing, he'd be afraid she'd fall flat on her face.

"What are you doing out here?" she inquired curiously, "That door may be Imperturbed but I'm almost positive I heard yelling."

"Precisely why I'm not in there," he sighed and glanced at the kitchen door. He didn't feel like going back inside the chaos at all.

"Really?" Ginny looked even more interested than she was a minute ago. "Don't tell me it's boring?"

Sirius nearly scoffed, "No, little red. Quite the contrary. But being in a room discussing plans for a war you cannot participate in can get quite stale."

He grimaced at his own tone. Sirius wanted to stop feeling sorry for himself, truly and largely through with all the pitiful stares Remus kept sending his way (although discreet) every time Dumbledore so much as shrugged off his requests at lending a hand (or paw) to anything the Order might need. He knew he was being overbearing, which was the last thing he wanted to make anybody feel with his presence. Although being stuck in his wicked mother's house filled with nothing but forbidding memories did no good to his sanity or his morals. He glanced back up at Ginny who was chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

"Anyway, little red, up you go before your mother finds ou—"

"Wanna play Quidditch?"

Sirius blinked.

"Quidditch?"

"I need to practice."

"Trying out for the team are you?" he asked.

Ginny shrugged, "I think Ron wants to have a go, but he's always been Keeper. Just staying on my toes in case Angelina needs a new Chaser this year."

"Chaser, eh?" said Sirius smiling. "Was Keeper myself back in the old days. James, however, was—"

"Chaser, I know. I also knew you were Keeper," said Ginny impatiently. "So do you want to play?"

Sirius peered curiously up at her once again. He wasn't sure even his own godson knew of his Quidditch history. "How did you know I was Keeper?"

Now Ginny had the nerve to look shameful.

"I've been walking past the Trophy room on the third floor to all my classes since first year," she blushed, "Charms was always fun. Professor Flitwick never really minded if I took too long in the loo."

Her embarrassment ebbed when she saw Sirius's proud grin.

"Anyway, all the Gryffindor teams over the years are listed on the Quidditch board," she said.

"And you have them memorized?"

She ignored him. "So? Will you help me practice? Or were you no good?"

Her eyes held a glint of a challenge and was filled with outpouring mischief Sirius hadn't felt in years.

Dreadful meeting forgotten, he asked, "And where do you propose we are to practice? I've played quite a few years to know we need more than a grimy hallway to fly, little red."

Ginny's eyes were filled with mirth, "I know just the place."

----—-----

Ginny Weasley was a fantastic flyer. Her small but built frame made her agile and quick enough to score a couple (more than a couple) past Sirius, who, admittedly, was rusty on a broom, but could neither deny the fact that the girl was akin to a zapping ball of flame, whizzing past him zealously.

The small alcove behind Grimmauld Place (that Sirius previously remembered to be a dump for old furniture the Black family disposed of ) was cleared and mowed into a backyard of sorts; although the grass was a dying shade of brown, weeds scattered the soil, and the lone shrub by the fence seemed to be in its last breath.

"Mum had Bill and I clear it out just in case the kitchen got too full," explained Ginny. "But nobody's used it yet, and we've still got room. Mad Eye had the surroundings Disillusioned so we can fly as high as the attic."

Sirius spent the next couple of weeks training with Ginny on a Comet Two Sixty they borrowed from Tonks. It was the highlight of his days, superbly scheduled right after Order meetings. An angry Sirius coming out of the kitchens to practice was something Ginny looked forward to (and often hoped, although she'd never admit), only because he wouldn't have the mind to hold out on blocking her Quaffles— almost saving every attempt she had at a perfect goal. There were days when the twins and Ron would come out for a match, three-on-two, and Sirius would give Ron tips on how to Keep.

“You’re fast,” he told Ginny at one point, trying to catch his breath after her third goal of the day; the Quaffle zoomed behind his broom and into the makeshift goal post after her clever diversion of swerving around his front. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say Duh. He rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever considered Seeking?” he inquired.

“Seeking?” she frowned. “Nope. Never. Besides, that position’s not up in the air anytime soon anyway.”

The perpetual loneliness was in no hurry to crawl back into Sirius's mind. Out of all the members of the Order (children included), it was Ginny Weasley (apart from his godson) who made him feel the most welcomed into the world once again; treated humanely, and not some fugitive on the run. She even managed to find the time to occasionally rally him with a game of Exploding Snap.

One particular night that summer, Molly walked in the living room carrying a tray of sandwiches which she set down beside the two.

"Would you know where the extra sheets are, Sirius?" asked Molly, "I need to prepare Harry's bed for tomorrow."

Sirius doesn't miss the way Ginny paused the slightest, then carried on with playing a card down. He swiftly taps the top card with his wand, his opponent only seconds behind. He grins at her cheekily. She missed.

"That point was mine thank you— Ah yes, Molly, of course. I'll have Kreacher bring the sheets up to Ron and Harry's room."

"Harry's arriving, mum?" asked Ginny behind her cards, seeming as though she was deciding which one to play next.

But Sirius could register her unfocused eyes.

"Mad Eye and the rest are leaving at dusk tomorrow. You best tell Hermione and Ron as well. Like twitching worms those two are, can't stop asking when Harry'll be arriving," Molly sighs wistfully, "My poor boy."

Although he hadn't been in the best moods with Molly these days, Sirius couldn't help but grasp her hand to give it a light squeeze.

"No need to worry, Molly. You know Mad Eye. He'll be very thorough."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," said Molly, squeezing Sirius's hand back and reached out to rake her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"Not tired yet, Ginerva? You spent the whole afternoon flying," she looked back at Sirius reproachingly.

He merely shrugged with a small smile.

"I'll sleep when I beat him," said Ginny, finally looking up from her cards.

"Fat chance, Weasley," said Sirius.

Molly sighed tiredly. "Oh why do I even bother," she grumbled as she gathered the empty mugs on the coffee table and walked back into the kitchen.

"Love you, mum!" Ginny yelled after her mother as she grabbed a sandwich on the tray and started nibbling.

"You haven't drawn," she said with a frown.

Looking from the cards piled on the floor and back to the ones she held, "It's your turn. Go draw."

But Sirius didn't draw.

He gazed at his cards instead, as if concentrating hard.

"So," he spoke casually, "my godson will finally be gracing us with his presence. About time."

Ginny didn't answer.

He looked up from his cards to see her shuffling with her own, mumbling to herself.

"I suppose you two are friends?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh yeah— er — well, sort of..." she trailed off, clearly having no intention to confirm nor deny.

Sirius waited two beats before realizing she wasn't going to elaborate, "Sort of?" He never really saw much of Ginny around the trio while he tailed them restlessly in dog form through Harry's third year.

"Aren't you going to draw?" she snapped irritably, making a show of how annoyed she was that he was interrupting their game.

"Are you?" he spoke slowly, "Friends with my godson?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."

"But you haven't answered."

"I have! I said yes!"

"Actually, you said 'sort of'."

"Well, I meant 'yes'!" Ginny huffed indignantly, her ears were turning pink. "Are we still playing or not?"

"Fred said you never talked around him," he said casually.

At this remark, blood swiftly rushed to her cheeks and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he now?"

Sirius no longer bothered to hide his grin.

"George said you fancy him even."

Ginny was so red, her freckles were more prominent than ever before. She seemed to be debating whether or not to abandon their game and flee to the safety of her room, or abandon their game to run off and hex her tattle tale twin brothers.

"For your information," she finally spoke, swallowing a lump in her throat before proceeding, "I used to fancy him a little bit. Not anymore, not for a very long time now actually."

“Oh?”

“Over him. Done. Moved on.”

A pair of cards exploded between them, emitting red and orange sparks.

“You’ve done it now,” groaned Ginny. She glanced up at Sirius whom she saw was smiling knowingly at her, his cards abandoned.

“You know what?” she said, “I’m going to bed. Good night, Sirius.”

“Oh come on,” he laughed as she gathered the cards and neatly put them away in a box, “Is Harry that bad? Can’t be as bad as James can he? That git never had the balls to man up to Lily until our 7th yea—"

“I’m seeing someone,” Ginny announced suddenly, which shut Sirius up quickly.

“Seeing someone?” he blinked up at her as she stood from the carpeted floor where they sat and began to gather the cushions around her.

“Yes. Michael Corner. He’s in Ron and Harry’s year, but in Ravenclaw. He's cute. We met at the Yule Ball and been writing at the start summer,” she had a small smile as she mentioned their exchange of letters, as if she had a nice little secret tucked inside her pocket.

Sirius’s brain, however, seemed to have stopped working.

Michael Corner?

His godson was losing a battle to a boy who did his homework? And who maybe even enjoyed it?

"Although I haven't heard from him since we moved here. Can't owl to him now either," she said with a frown, as if she didn't like the thought. "Maybe I should ask Dad to check if I've got post at the Burrow..."

Sirius's head continued to spin at the outrageous thought, but he looked at Ginny calmly.

“Yule Ball, eh? A dancing chap then,” he swallowed the profanities doing somersaults in his brain. “So, a Ravenclaw...”

Ginny eyed him warily, “That’s right.”

He forced an excited grin, “Splendid! Does he play Quidditch? Bet we can invite him over sometime.”

Impossible, Sirius thought. First of all, he was still a fugitive. He reckoned Michael Corner wouldn’t want to be tossing Quaffles with a man who escaped Azkaban; and second, wanted or not, he didn't think he’d ever let Harry get away with letting a girl like Ginny escape from his fingers. He didn’t let James cower away, he sure won’t let Harry either.

He heard her sigh and focused on keeping his face devoid of any inner turmoil.

“He doesn’t play Quidditch," said Ginny.

DOESN’T PLAY QUIDDI—

“Doesn’t play Quidditch?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone neutral. “Interesting.”

What’s she going to do with a bloke who doesn’t play bloody Quidditc—

“So what does he do?” he clears his throat, “in his spare time? Any hobbies?” He seriously should consider an acting career once his name got cleared.

Wrapping the quilt she was sitting on around her shoulders and balancing the tray of sandwiches her mother left on her hip, Ginny pursed her lips at Sirius and huffed, “Nothing that would concern you, Mr. Sirius Black. After all, what other hobbies did you have back in the old days? Other than stirring up trouble?”

She gathered the trail of her quilt with her spare hand and started walking towards the stairs, up to the bedrooms.

“Oh, come on, little red!” said Sirius exasperatedly, “What did I say? Tell me more about Michael Corner! What does he do? What sort of lot does he hang out with?”

He blanched at a sudden thought, gaping at her retreating back in horror.

“Michael Corner doesn’t hang out with Madam Pince does he?”

Ginny trudges up the stairs and doesn’t look back, but her steps progressed louder and heavier.

“If you stop saying his name like that, maybe I’ll think about answering your questions!” she growled and was out of sight.

----—----

Dear Padfoot,

You were right! I did get Seeker! But only because Harry received a lifetime Quidditch ban from Umbridge. I’m sure you’ve heard. That old hag. Fred and George got banned too. I wasn’t supposed to tryout till next year, but Angelina was desperate. You should’ve seen her face. Nearly close to tears every time I see her at breakfast.

I’m sorry you can’t floo anymore. I kept everyone out of the common room the last time. Pavarti left her Herbology homework by the fire but I convinced her to pick it up in the morning instead. I also told the Creeveys that the house elves were cleaning out the common room that night. Nobody wanted to bother them and welcome a bad breakfast. I hope you got to talk to Harry enough. If that old toad didn’t barge in, I’m sure he would’ve told you more about the D.A.

He’s a really good teacher Harry. REALLY good. He reminds me a lot of Remus, the way he teaches. Did you know he can produce a corporeal Patronus? I’ve known of course, from Ron, but seeing it up close was bloody brilliant. You’d be proud. Especially since his Patronus is a stag. Didn’t you say his dad was Prongs?

He’s also seeing this girl, Cho Chang. She’s nice. Very pretty. A Ravenclaw. She plays Quidditch as well. I guess we both have a thing for Ravenclaws? She always cries though, I’ve noticed. It must be hard for her, dealing with Cedric’s death. They were a thing before he died you see. I hope she doesn’t make Harry too sad at least. He’s been looking a lot gloomy these days. Always BROODING. And don’t get me started on his temper.

Anyway, this will likely be my last letter before Christmas. They don’t bother monitoring my owls as much as they do Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s, but it’d be best if you didn’t write back till after the holidays. Hopefully I see you for Christmas. I’ve already got you a present.

Don’t go sulking around too much!

With love,

Ginny

----—----

Never in her life has Ginny ever seen Harry Potter as broken and desolate as he was now, right before her eyes. That is to say she's seen quite a bit of his dismal days. But it was nothing like this. Although, of course, she knew she couldn't feel the extent of his pain, but pain she still felt; the hollow ache in her chest reverberated, first through her arms, paving way for gooseflesh to rise up to the very tips of her fingers, then down her legs and she felt her knees wobble desperately, as if they were telling her, We can carry you no longer.

With her sprained ankle and failing knees, she gripped the bed post nearest her so tightly it croaked beneath her weight. She watched as Harry did his very best to stand back helplessly and watch the healers fuss around Sirius's frail and pale body, casting stabilizing charms and fixing various droughts by the bed where he lay in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

It almost hit him.

Ginny whimpered at the memory of waking to Sirius's barking voice echo through the Department of Mysteries. Despite her busted ankle, she dragged herself up and registered Luna and Hermione passed out cold, while Ron struggled through the binding tentacles of thought wheeling out of the brain that held him captive. Neville and Harry were nowhere to be found.

"RON!" she yelled at her brother, who seemed to have finally snapped out of the laughing jinx he was in. "Hold still—"

"I HATE BRAINS!" screamed Ron. He managed to have pierced a tentacle with the tip of his wand and the bindings around his torso pulsated, as if the brain yelped in pain although no sound came out.

"GINNY, NOW!"

"Diffindo!"

The brain's tentacles weren't severed as Ginny would have hoped, but it weakened its hold on Ron most definitely that he succeeded in wiggling his way out.

"I've got it," mumbled Ron when she bent down to reach for him, "It might get you too." He finally kicked the tentacles of thought away and it trembled furiously on the cold floor, flashes of memories fluctuating.

Both siblings were panting heavily as they paused to catch their breaths. Ron's right knee jutted out in an odd angle that didn't look particularly natural. He shifted his weight to his left backside, scanned the room, and spotted Hermione lying across the room from him with her eyes wide open. His face paled.

"Hermione," whispered Ron weakly.

Ginny glanced over at her and Luna's lying forms.

"They're stunned," she said. "We need to get them back to school. We all need to get out of here."

She wouldn't have known if Ron heard her for his eyes were fixed solely on Hermione, but he gave a quick nod, "Yeah we—," his eyes suddenly darted around, searching, then he looked back at Ginny in panic.

"Where's Neville?" his eyes were filled with fear, "Where's Harry?"

A deep booming yell echoed from the open door, and Ron's face first scrunched up in confusion, then suddenly turned to a hopeful expression.

"Is that— is that Moody I hear?" his voice was almost weepy.

"Yes," said Ginny, struggling back up on one foot. "And I think I heard Sirius too."

She tried helping her brother up to his feet but to no avail. His right knee was most definitely not okay.

"I'm going to get help," she said. "Stay here and look after the others."

Ron looked like he was about to protest but swallowed the argument quickly. "Wait—" he quickly glances at Hermione then at Ginny's angry and swollen ankle, "you can barely walk."

"Compared to you I can," she said and winced as she shifted her weight. "Look after the others."

Ron swallowed painfully but nodded, his eyes finding Hermione again. No one would dare doubt Ginny's hexing skills, but as the older brother it was instinct to worry.

"Hurry back, yeah?"

Ginny stared at her youngest brother and felt her heart swell almost as much as her throbbing ankle (the pain intensifying to the point of numbness, which made it easier to ignore). People always thought it was Bill that she favored the most among her brothers, them being particularly close as the eldest and youngest. But while their closeness was unquestionable, there was one brother whom Ginny revered the most. Sheer—although closeted—admiration.

Ron always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to clam it up—which Ginny admired profusely, if not envied at times. While he regularly complained under his breath about the state of poverty their family lived in, his face often falling behind his mother's back whenever he found out he'd be inheriting something of his older brothers' (like Charlie's old set of school robes instead of getting fresh, personally tailored ones from Madam Malkin's)—it was exactly this that made him all the more benign.

It was Ron who always lent Ginny his hand-me-down broom after an afternoon of spitting out tantrums all over the Burrow when her other brothers refused to let her play along, Ron who merely huffs in annoyance every time she barges in his room, plopping down on his bed as she talked his ear off—though he let her anyway; Ron who was just so selfless despite all his lamenting, never thinking twice about giving.

You're my hero, Ron, Ginny thought to herself as she gave her brother a nimble nod.

"Wand out," she cautioned him, and he snorted.

"I'll give those Death Eaters a Bat-Bogey hex in your honor."

Ginny had to swallow back her tears. She didn't know why she was getting emotional at this point. Perhaps it was the thought of death not very far from where they stood, as Death Eaters swarmed the Ministry. She pointed her wand to his knees to distract him from the glassy sheen forming in her eyes.

"Ferula."

Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. He winced as they secured themselves and then he heaved a grateful sigh. "Thanks. Hold out yours."

Ankle patched and throbbing dulled to a minimum, Ginny limped out of the Brain Room, wand out and ready.

If Sirius and the others are here, we'll be alright, she thought, fighting down the growing panic that if the Death Eaters didn't get to him first, the Ministry would capture him instantly. He was, after all, still a mass murderer on the lose. She refused to think about Harry, who was god-knows-where, probably being impulsive and angry and careless with a helpless Neville on his toes.

Ginny evaded all abhorrent thoughts and swiped traitorous tears from her cheeks angrily.

He has to be okay. They all have to be.

She headed straight to the only other door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come. Gripping the frame tightly as she fought through the pain on her ankle, she saw—to her horror—Mad-Eye lying on his side in the middle of the room by the dais, bleeding from the head, his magic eye spinning across the floor near a paralyzed Dolohov; Kingsley was swaying across her field of vision, battling with a now mask-less Rookwood, and she saw Remus, who had successfully disarmed Lucius Malfoy.

Her eyes scanned the room in panic, but was suddenly swept with utmost relief at the sight of Harry and Neville hobbling up the stone steps towards her.

Ginny stopped the scream from bubbling out of her throat, noticing the glass spherical prophecy tightly clutched by Neville's hand, not wanting to draw attention to them any further.

“Come on!” she heard Harry cry desperately, hauling at Neville’s robes. “Just try and push with your legs —”

Something hot like liquid heat was suddenly melting down Ginny's ankle. She looked down to see that the bandages Ron had given her were glowing a deep purple. It's not the bandages, she realized, it's my foot— the glowing stopped.

What the—

"It won't last, Ms. Weasley, but it'll do long enough."

Ginny turned, wand raised, to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind her, his own wand equally aloft, his face white and furious. She felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body—they were saved.

"Professor," she stammered, "I—"

"Mr. Longbottom is in need of your assistance, dear one," Dumbledore said with no preamble. "Go. The spell on your ankle won't last long."

She wasted no time.

Running down the stone steps, she ran into Neville, clutched him by the arm, and he almost sagged on top of her completely if it weren't for Harry holding him up.

"Ginny!" Harry looked at her in panic. "Where's Ron?"

"He's fine," she panted, hitching one of Neville's arms over her shoulders, "They're all fine. Harry, listen. Dumbledo—"

Announcing his presence was futile, she realized, as screams of fury suddenly rang throughout the chamber.

All three of them turned back to see one of the Death Eaters running for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line.

Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Ginny saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: He was laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light barely missed his head. Sirius staggered backwards in shock. Ginny saw Bellatrix's face erupt into a triumphant smile as she raised her wand, pointing straight for his chest—

She heard Harry yell to her right but she had no more time to think, adrenaline and desperation pumping through her veins. She grabbed the prophecy from Neville who's grip had slackened in fright. This is way lighter than a Quaffle, a voice spoke in the back of her head as she let go of Neville, though unaware of doing so, shifted her weight back for a split second and released the glass orb with all her might, aiming for the space between Sirius and the tip of Bellatrix's wand.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It almost hit him

The jet of green light flashed through Ginny's memory, colliding with the the spherical orb of the prophecy instead of Sirius's chest, although its force was so strong that it knocked him off his feet, he passed out cold on the Death Chamber floor....

"Ginerva? Ginerva, dear, I told you to lie back down— Oh, my sweet," Madam Pomfrey's voice shook her out of her painful daze. She was back in the hospital wing, hand numb from clutching the bed post so tightly; the pain from her ankle was making her dizzy that she didn't realize the tears pouring out of her eyes.

"Is," she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve messily, "is he going to be—"

"The healers are doing everything they can," Madam Pomfrey murmured quietly although her face was grim. "Let me have a look at your—"

"I'm okay," said Ginny stubbornly. She wouldn't move an inch farther away from Harry and Sirius than she already was.

"Ginny, I swear if you don't let Madam Pomfrey look at your leg I'll hex you myself," she heard Ron growl, although tiredly, from the bed behind her. "There's nothing you can do just lie back down."

Ginny gritted her teach so hard they almost hurt as much as everything else. She stared at Sirius's lying form helplessly from afar, then shifted her eyes back to Harry who now had a tired-looking Remus guarding him from shaking his godfather awake.

She gave a defeated sigh and let the school matron lead her to bed, sleep consuming her instantly no matter how hard she fought it.

----—----

It's been almost a week. A week. And Sirius still hasn't woken.

Ginny was finally discharged after four days; Madam Pomfrey casted final charms to fully mend her ankle and prescribed her with the Potion for Dreamless Sleep to help her with her shock and nightmares.

Ron and Neville had to stay for two more nights, and Hermione for another week—the curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud (Hermione had cast a Silencing Charm on him before he attacked), had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey’s words, “quite enough damage to be going on with.” Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day and although she was improving greatly, was already bored with the hospital wing.

This gave Ginny every excuse to drop by everyday without fail. She brought everyone Honeydukes sweets, some pastries from Dobby, and fresh flowers for Sirius's bedside. She's also piled his stash of Pumpkin Pasties so much that she heard one of the healers attending to him scoff in disdain.

"If the rebound curse won't kill him, those sweets will, deary," said the healer in disapproval.

But Ginny didn't care, of course, she merely hid the stash under his bed, away from prying eyes. He would thank her when he woke up. For a laugh (more for her than anyone, really), she also hoarded volumes of The Quibbler from Luna, specifically the editions flooded with speculations of Sirius being the innocent singing sensation Stubby Boardman, lead of the band The Hobogoblins.

"You have to wake up now," she told his sleeping form, making sure to sound as miffed as she possibly could. Dumbledore said that talking to him might help, although she suspected he only said so for Ginny's sake. She sat on the edge of his bed one Hogsmeade morning. She barely went anywhere besides the hospital wing these days—despite Dean Thomas's efforts in coaxing her a trip to the Three Broomsticks. "You haven't even seen me play Seeker, Stubby, what happens when your godson takes it back next term?"

But she was only met with Sirius's steady breathing. Which was a good thing, at least is what the healers from St. Mungo's said. The collision that the Killing Curse and the prophecy made was enough to block the curse's intentions, but was able to emit some kind of stunning aftermath, knocking Sirius out cold. She remembered when they all thought him dead, Harry shaking with fury as he dashed out of the Death Chamber after Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You should've seen him, Stubby," she whispered, her eyes roaming all over Sirius's pale, gaunt face. "He looked like he would've killed for you."

She thought she saw a hitch in his breathing, a change so subtle that she held her own. But the following breaths after that were as steady as it had bin, making her convince herself it was only her hopeful imagination.

"Ginny?"

She was so focused on studying Sirius's breathing that she didn't hear privacy curtain open behind her.

Harry Potter, skinny, pale, and hair mussed up as ever, stood awkwardly by the foot of his godfather's bed, his hands holding a bowl of what smelled like onion soup with sides of sliced bread. His glasses were askew and misty from the spring wind and he looked like he just shimmied out of bed and put on the first jumper he saw, because he was wearing one with a big 'R' on his chest.

It was then that Ginny realized that she hasn't seen much of Sirius's godson in the long period that he's been lying in the hospital wing. Every time she visited, even when the others were still around, Harry would've already left to god-knows-where, or she would have had classes and missed running into him. Even sightings in the common room or at the Great Hall were rare.

It's not as if you've been avoiding him, Ginny thought to herself as she stood up to leave, it's just bad timing is all.

"Harry," she smiled at him and nodded at his bowl of soup, "That for the dog?"

He gave out a laugh that made her insides thump erratically. She hasn't seen a smile on his face for so long and she's missed it terribly.

"Yeah," he said with a small smile, and looked at Sirius. "Looks like he's not hungry still."

His smile still held its place but his eyes were almost cheerless.

Crossing her arms dramatically, Ginny turned to glare at the benumbed form before them, "Hear that, Stubby? Your godson's been bringing you breakfast and this is how you repay him?"

Again, they were met with silence and she heard Harry chuckle, "Maybe that'll work," he said, "I've been spitting praises all over to try to get him to wake."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't spoil him," she warned although she smiled fondly down at Sirius, "he might be enjoying it too much."

Harry let out a tiny laugh once again, making her warm all over. She loved seeing him not brooding. It was a rare sight this term, and now that Umbridge was gone, she hoped she'd see more of it.

"Well," she started as she scanned the floor for her book bag, "I'll leave you with the rascal then—"

"You don't have to leave," said Harry and she looked up at him to meet his alarmed gaze. "Really, Ginny I—," he stammered, "you don't have to go."

Ginny stared at him worryingly, "Are you sure? You don't have any secrets to talk about?"

He chuckled, "Yes. I mean no. No—we— I have no secrets," he was surely flushing now, and Ginny sniggered.

"Well alright then," she said, hoisting herself back up on the edge of Sirius's bed. "Is that onion soup I smell? Haven’t had breakfast."

Harry sighed with relief and rounded the bed, grabbing two spoons from his godfather's bedside drawer and sagged down the chair beside Ginny's legs. They sipped the onion soup in silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat and glanced up at her.

"I—," his face was red and she was sure it was because of the soup, "I never got to thank you."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him questioningly before slurping loudly from her spoon. Harry burst out laughing.

She grinned cheekily at him, legs swinging back and forth on the edge of the bed, "What for?"

He shook his head, "What do you mean 'what for?' You saved Sirius."

It was Ginny’s turn to look embarrassed. Seeing as this was the first time they were actually talking about what happened at the Ministry (the first time talking at all after the Ministry), the subject of the prophecy that Ginny so careless sent flying (quite literally) was never mentioned, not even by the others. She didn't think anybody even knew about it—apart from Harry and Neville and other members of the Order present in the Death Chamber. She had little thought for it, all her worries focused on her friends and her brother getting better.

"Barely," replied Ginny, shrugging nonchalantly at the boy in front of her. "To be honest, I could've thrown something more durable," Harry laughed at this, "but balls are the only thing I'm good at aiming with and that was the closest thing." She frowned after a thought, "To be honest, I wasn't thinking at all."

Harry shook his head again and looked at her with something she could've described as awe, "Well I'm glad you didn't think," he said and a hint of despair flashed in his eyes, although quickly appeased. "I don't even want to think about what would've if you did."

They were quiet for a moment, both now focused on Sirius's rhythmic breathing. Ginny chanced a deceitful glance at the boy she so perplexingly pined for for so long. She couldn't deny that her fourth year in Hogwarts drastically changed now that Harry was more to her than just her brother's best friend. She could actually call him her friend. She couldn't believe it took her this long to woman up and finally start talking around him, realizing how much of an awkward bloke he was.

Well, I won't miss out on you anymore, Harry Potter.

She smiled wistfully at the fact that his hair was as unkept as ever, not realizing that her own hand was reaching out in a foolish attempt to tame it...

"Hey, I was thinking!"

Ginny gave a startled jump, Harry's voice slicing through her shameful haze, and reared back her hand so fast that her elbow hit Sirius's knee.

"OW," she yelped, clutching her joint closely.

"Wha— are you okay?"

"What in the—what is this man made of? Steel?" She rubbed her elbow, wincing, and hoped Harry took no notice of her mortifying intentions.

He merely laughed, "No, I don't reckon Sirius is much of a Superman."

"A super what?"

His eyes were full of amusement as he gazed a Ginny's disgruntled face. "Never mind. Listen, what do you think about trying out for Chaser next year?"

She blinked at him.

"Chaser?"

Harry blushed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah I mean—er—I know you're Seeker now," Ginny was smirking now, "but uh, you have really good aim and— well, that's not saying you're not a good Seeker already. I mean— I don't even know if next year's Captain will take me back in if—"

Before Ginny could stop herself, she grabbed a piece of uneaten bread from the meal they just shared and flicked it straight for Harry's face.

It hit him square in between his eyebrows, nudging his round glasses even more askew.

His expression was priceless.

She laughed boisterously at his stunned look. He was gawking at her.

"That aim good enough for you, Potter?"

It took him a beat to recover, a wide playful grin spreading across his face. "Pretty good, Weasley," he admitted, then tapped on his forehead mockingly, "Could definitely use some practice though, you missed the scar."

Nothing but absurd and ridiculous banter issued after that, their conversation flowing with so much ease, that Ginny swore to herself she would never allow her foolish feelings to keep her from Harry ever again.

And if she wasn't so enamored by his breath-taking laughter, she might have noticed the impish ghost of a smirk from the patient lying on the bed.

#by gabi #hinny fic #ginny weasley and sirius black friendship #harry potter #ginny weasley #sirius black #ootp #order of the phoenix missing moments #Sirius lives #byGabi

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years ago

Note

NMJ is in Cloud Recesses while LWJ is being punished for visiting WWX at Burial Mounds. LXC tells him what happened, and the 2 decide to go there to see with their own eyes exactly what is going on. A-Yuan has them wrapped around his little finger in .5 seconds, and NMJ is not inclined to put him down. Also, WQ takes one look at him and tells him he's deviating and he's gonna die in less than a year if it's not cured. He might just be in love.

“Your brother is being punished?” Nie Mingjue asked, more than a little surprised. “Your brother? Did we switch brothers again?”

Lan Xichen had to press his lips together to stop from laughing at the reminder of that time when they’d tried to swap the two babies (well, baby and toddler) while their elders had been distracted during a discussion conference – Nie Mingjue’s father was always complaining about how weak and low-energy his new son was, while Lan Qiren scowled about how much noise Lan Zhan made, and they’d thought it was a perfect solution to both problems. It hadn’t worked, of course, given the difference a year made for very young children, and they’d both been punished (while their elders coughed badly-suppressed laughter into their sleeves), but all in all it’d been an interesting first meeting.

“He visited the Burial Mounds without permission,” he explained. “Uncle was very upset.”

“Your uncle isn’t sect leader,” Nie Mingjue said, a little sharply. He’d had some struggles for control and respect when he became sect leader himself, given how young he’d been – at the time Lan Xichen had thought they were being ridiculous, though in retrospect he realized with a pang exactly how much of his friend’s childhood had been lost to a responsibility exceeding that of even most adults – and it remained a sensitive subject. “And merely visiting a place isn’t against your family rules…you approved the punishment, then?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, because he hadn’t. Approval wasn’t considered as necessary in the Lan sect as it was in the Nie; elders were allowed to discipline juniors without consulting the Sect Leader even when it was outside the family rules – the two of them often argued whether such a system left openings for abuse (Nie Mingjue’s position) or encouraged trust (Lan Xichen’s view).

“Well, he went without permission,” he temporized.

Nie Mingjue snorted, seeing through the excuse at once. “He hasn’t needed to get permission to go places even before he fought in a war, Xichen,” he pointed out. “He was a very good general.”

That was very high praise, from Nie Mingjue, with particular emphasis on Lan Wangji’s reliable judgment; otherwise, he would have used different words.

“It’s the Burial Mounds,” Lan Xichen insisted, still trying to defend his uncle’s judgment. “Wei Wuxian is dangerous –”

“So is night-hunting.”

“You’re just being contrary for the sake of arguing with me,” Lan Xichen said. Nie Mingjue didn’t deny it, though he wouldn’t: it was a measure of his trust in Lan Xichen that he would break etiquette enough to casually pick a fight like this. “Fine, have it your way: I’ll put an end to the punishment now, and we’ll go ourselves to Yiling. If it’s more dangerous than night-hunting, the punishment resumes; if it’s less, it’s absolved, and I will apologize to Wangji myself. Agreed?”

“How did I get roped into this?” Nie Mingjue pretended to complain. “What business is it of mine how your Lan sect teaches its disciples…? But since you insist, I will of course accompany you.”

“Your acquiescence is appreciated – even if a less polite man than I might speculate that you just don’t want to meet with all the minor sect leaders that routinely take advantage of your visits to come by with requests.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t smile – he never did, anymore, which was a pity – but his brow wasn’t furrowed in anger for once, and that was very nearly the same.

Lan Xichen was just as inclined to avoid the inevitable pestering as Nie Mingjue, so he put his plan into action at once and headed out before his uncle could notice what was going on outside his door – not that it was a problem if his uncle objected, of course, he was the sect leader now, but still, why start trouble that could be avoided? Especially since Lan Xichen was going with Nie Mingjue, which significantly lessened the chance of danger; there was little that could stand up against the two of them together. Including Wei Wuxian’s defensive arrays, brilliant as they were, which shattered after a few gestures - after all, it wouldn’t be much of an evaluation if there was time for the Yiling Patriarch to cover things up while they were waiting for permission to enter.

Not that there seemed to be much to cover up.

The Burial Mounds weren’t anything at all like what Lan Xichen had heard, and judging by the increasingly black look on Nie Mingjue’s face, the same was true for him; the ragged collection of farmers tending to an even more ragged collection of crops was far away from the roving army of fierce corpses Wei Wuxian was reputed to be raising here.

“He’s not raising people,” Lan Xichen murmured.

“Well, one,” Nie Mingjue said. Lan Xichen turned to look, but it appeared that what Nie Mingjue was referring to was a small child, buried waist deep into the mud and beaming about it. Lan Xichen gave Nie Mingjue a look, because now was not the appropriate moment for his friend’s deeply buried sense of humor to re-emerge as if greeting the spring…great, now he was making planting jokes, even if only within his own mind. “Xichen, there are hardly any cultivators here.”

“The remnants of the Wen sect?” Lan Xichen guessed, politely ignoring the piece of spiced meat Nie Mingjue had taken out from his pocket to give to the child, who was trying to wiggle his way out of the dirt in order to demand a ride on Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “I hadn’t realized they were quite so reduced. Rumor seems to have blown things quite out of proportion…”

“Don’t touch him!” a woman snapped, and they both turned; her clothing was faded, but still recognizable as the colors of the Wen sect, and Lan Xichen could feel the way Nie Mingjue tensed, the way Baxia, on his back, began to quiver in anticipation. “A-Yuan, come here, quick.”

“No!” the child said, clinging to Nie Mingjue’s leg. “I wanna ride!”

“I don’t give rides to radishes,” Nie Mingjue said, his eyes still fixed on the approaching woman – Wen Qing, if Lan Xichen is recalling her name correctly. A doctor, once. “Didn’t you say you were a radish?”

“I’m human! I’m human!”

“If you’re a human, you need to listen to your seniors. Get her permission first.”

“You don’t have it,” Wen Qing snapped. “Get away from him at once, A-Yuan. That man is dangerous.”

“We don’t mean any harm,” Lan Xichen interjected quickly before things went south.

“You may not,” she said. “But the one next to you is halfway down the road to a qi deviation; I wouldn’t trust him with any child, least of all one of blood that he despises.”

There was no way to salvage this, but Lan Xichen was determined to try regardless. “Lady Wen –”

“If I recall correctly, her title was Supervisory Office Leader.” Nie Mingjue’s voice was cold and biting. “In Yiling, no less. If I recall correctly, Office Leader Wen Qing refused to dirty her hands by raising a sword directly, and, valued as she was by Wen Ruohan, he did not force her. And so Yiling became a place to keep prisoners – isn’t that right?”

“I was a doctor,” she said, voice equally stiff. “I cared for all sick and injured without distinction –”

“Until they were well enough to be executed –”

“We are guests here, Mingjue-xiong,” Lan Xichen reminded him desperately. “And the war is over, and Lady Wen is a civilian now.”

“She’s still a cultivator,” Nie Mingjue said through gritted teeth. “I do not generally permit cultivators of any sect to say that I harm children; would you prefer I challenge her to defend her words against my saber? I am willing – Office Leader Wen can name the time and place. Unless she prefers to continue to hide behind the cloak of the powerful?”

This was a disaster.

“No one is fighting anyone,” Lan Xichen said firmly. “Lady Wen will apologize for the implication, said in a moment of anger and out of concern for her…for her young relative; in return, we will apologize for arriving without an invitation or forewarning, and then we will all limit ourselves to saying only polite things.”

Both of them open their mouths to protest, and he adds sharply, “Now, if you please.”

He shot Nie Mingjue a look, urging him to recall that he was here at Lan Xichen’s invitation, and his friend scowled but begrudgingly nodded his agreement. Lan Xichen turned his stare onto Wen Qing next – her lips were pressed tightly together, unwilling to yield, but after a few seconds, she finally gave in.

“The implication was wrongly said, and inappropriate,” she said begrudgingly. “Sect Leader Nie’s strict discipline and ethical code are well-known. Even in battle, I’ve never heard of you attacking children…your qi is unsettled, though.”

“That isn’t any of your business,” he said, and she shrugged.

“You’re right, it isn’t, except that you’ve challenged me as a monster when I believe myself to be a doctor,” she said, and now it was her turn to cross her arms. “My own ethical code demands that I treat any injury in those I see; if I fail to do so, then my forbearance during all those years of war will be rendered meaningless and I’d be as guilty as you say I am.”

“I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts as a doctor,” Lan Xichen said, deciding to ignore the way the two of them were still glaring daggers at each other. “I’ve read your works before; they were highly innovative.”

They both looked at him as though he was absolutely crazy, pretending that there hadn’t been a war since the last time one of Wen Qing’s medical texts had been passed around at a discussion conference, but Lan Xichen was determined to ignore the awkwardness until it passed and he smiled that determination right at the two of them until they both gave in.

“You may as well come in for lunch,” she finally said. “We don’t have much, but we’ll share it.”

“We can share our provisions as well,” Lan Xichen said. “Thank you for the invitation…is Wei Wuxian not here? I would have thought he’d have come running with all the noise we’re making.”

“No, he’s down the mountain,” Wen Qing said, rubbing at her nose and turning to lead them further into their camp – there were some tables set out, clearly made by those lacking experience in carpentry. “His shijie’s wedding is coming up soon…he’s trying to find materials for a gift.”

Lan Xichen hummed agreeably, and elbowed Nie Mingjue. His friend scowled further, but obediently picked up the line of polite conversation. Or, his view of it, anyway. “What are you planning on sending?”

Wen Qing stopped and turned to look at him. “What? Me? Why would I send anything? I don’t know her.”

Nie Mingjue looked at her in disbelief. “Your benefactor’s shijie is marrying, and you’re not sending anything? Do you want to be accepted by the cultivation world or not?”

“I don’t think a wedding present is going to be the thing that helps convince the cultivation world that we’re not all blood-sucking demons.”

“Why not?” Nie Mingjue said. “My ancestors were butchers; you think the gentlemen cultivators of the other sect, whether yours or Xichen’s, accepted them as a legitimate sect at the start? The only way to win legitimacy is to force everyone to accept you as you are.”

Wen Qing had an expression on her face that suggested she hadn’t thought of that.

“They call Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriatch,” Lan Xichen said thoughtfully. “A patriarch should have a sect beneath him, shouldn’t he? And it’s the sect leader’s right hand’s duty to send gifts on behalf of the sect, in addition to any personal gifts sent on behalf of the sect leader himself.”

“…even if I wanted to send something on behalf of - of Yiling Wei, or whatever, we don’t have anything.”

Lan Xichen smiled. “Neither did the Cloud Recesses, during the years of war. You’re very fortunate: etiquette covers that precise situation, and suggests you reach out to another sect to borrow something. That helps bind your sects closer together as allies in the future – and before you say you don’t have anyone to ask, you have two Sect Leaders right here.”

Wen Qing appeared dumbstruck. “Would you share?”

Nie Mingjue huffed. “We’re not so poor that we can’t afford to lend out wedding gifts,” he said. “Even to a criminal. If you’re a sect, you’re a sect - this would hardly be the first sect that hosts someone I want to see dead.”

“I’m pretty sure that would be most of them,” Lan Xichen laughed. “I’ve seen you at parties.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan xichen #wen qing #wen yuan #lan sizhui #my fic #my fics #up to you if you find this shippy or not #people using the reasonable part of their brains #also these fills are getting longer and longer #I'm going to have to post them all on ao3 #help #amethystshipper

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griimhilde-a · 4 years ago

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if you know, you know.

——— a response to those who refuse to move on.

EDIT: after some encouragement and realizing that, while i tried to be respectful and private about this situation, i was not given the same treatment, i’ve decided to be upfront and filterless. here is a link to my page of receipts that i did not provide in this post.

i would like to point out that when i made the DNI, it was buried and sandwiched in my super long rules purposely so that it wasn’t explicitly visible and drawing attention. it was specifically put there for mutuals to understand my boundaries for the new blog, and as soon as i moved blogs, my guidelines underwent heavy reconstruction and the DNI section was removed overall ( i don’t like DNIs for myself ), as well as on this blog. all statements made in the DNI were what i felt to be true and based off of not only my experiences, but others’ as well, backed up with evidence i have saved that i didn’t feel the need to provide because it wasn’t meant to be a big deal, but i also felt i needed to explain why this person was on a DNI and that it wasn’t done out of malicious intent. again, if something sounds bad it is because “bad” things were done and i can’t control that.

reading the call-out had me ( and others ) confused on where it was i had bullied her, when i had her blocked since november, where it was i had manipulated her, and so forth. i’m always wanting to be a better person, so i was extremely confused on where i had done anything wrong. i also didn’t appreciate my new blog url being attached to it as it had nothing to do with it and i was trying to move forward, and it read very much like an attempt to blacklist. despite everything, i never wanted it to be a spectacle. the pinned, public call-out by this person doesn’t read to me as someone wanting to move on, but wanting to drag things further. this is not a call-out post, this is me defending myself. i will not name drop. if you know who this is about, i ask you just read this to understand the full story.

this is going to be a long boi ( i really tried to keep it short but alkfjdklfksldf nope ). i would also like to apologize for any dryness here, but i am aiming to just state facts as they are. it feels ---- ridiculous writing this all out because it’s something that could and should have been handled privately. but, here we go !!

everything on the DNI is true. i will not post or reveal the sources because one, they are not my stories to tell, and two, i am not going to give her the excuse to bother them. they deserve to be safe, and i am walking proof of what happens when you speak out against someone like her. if i have to bear that burden, then so be it.

it stopped being about “just a url” a long time ago. it became more about how i was treated in that interaction, and how i was continued to be treated afterwards. not to mention the increasing tension within the rpc and having to second-guess whether or not i was truly wanted. it was about how it was affecting those around me, my time in a hobby i love, and my mental health. the amount of times a mutual has tagged me by accident when they meant to tag her is insane. it most definitely did not feel good !!! if that kept happening, it was a problem. i also had to shut off the anon feature because of the amount of anons i was receiving. some had good intentions, but others had resorted to hate.

regarding the messages on discord --- i stand by them. i thought if you were friends with someone on discord and have previously talked over time, it was okay to message, otherwise what was the point of discord? i didn't realize it would make her uncomfortable to do so, and i’m more careful about how i approach people now !!!

regarding the messages: there was no change in tone other than that i grew exhausted and extremely anxious ( shaking !!! palms sweaty !!! knees weak !!!! mom’s spaghetti !!! ) and wasn’t in the proper mindset to sound happy while i was being invalidated to my face. i have even apologized there if i came off as mean. i don’t “present myself” in a way. that’s just how i talk, i prefer communicating one-on-one and i try to alleviate tension that arises no matter what because these types of conversations aren’t always a walk in the park. i wanted things to be good and not stressful for all parties involved. i’m sorry my tone came off as insincere. after being in desc rpc for a year, i was a little surprised seeing a near-identical url so i think it was fair for me to message her about it. she made the decision use it, and i was allowed to react. it was said misspellings in urls made her anxious so i wanted to help and i was shot down and vilified, essentially told i made her feel unsafe and shouldn’t have messaged. if it wasn’t okay to claim i felt “unsafe” and “paranoid”, why was it okay for her to claim the same based on a choice she made herself, but not me to feel anxious about those choices?

i have never told a blog to block her. i have never initiated conversation about her, nor have i spoken negatively about her as a person. ever. i have, in fact, even stated that i didn’t want anyone blocking and that it would be okay to interact. here’s one example after i was approached about her. i cannot control what other people do.

hardblocking her on my end was to avoid seeing her on dash as much as possible.

i am allowed to softblock / unfollow people who interact with her after months of trying to be okay with it. what kickstarted this process was someone i thought was a close friend had dropped me and suddenly i realized i didn’t need to sacrifice my comfort for the sake of keeping a mutual. if they could do it, so could i. while i adore the descendants rpc, the rpc is not a family, we’re not obligated to interact IC or be mutuals with every single person in the rpc. it’s not causing a rift when we don’t interact on dash. i have even emphasized that i would love to stay in contact via discord and write there if possible !! why am i being vilified for trying to make my blog a safe space for me?

regarding the “vagues”: they were all responses. a mutual wrote the post, i reblogged it, my tags were in response to the post ( said mutual’s url wasn’t even blocked out so ... ). if it felt like a vague, i can’t control that. the meaning behind the url post was circulating on dash, i didn’t see any vaguing in it other than me recounting my process of choosing this url, which was true ( was i not allowed to participate?? ). the shrek meme was in response to a public dash event ( which i originally thought was a joke ) that had received copious amounts of criticism for. it wasn’t a vague and it was explicit on what it was referring to, it was meant to be silly dash commentary, nothing deep.

this is in my rules but i have explicitly stated that my headcanons about my characters are not a vague if they differ from yours. the talk about hair styles was actually initiated in a conversation with my friends in private. it had absolutely nothing to do with her. if it sounded like a drag, i encourage everyone to look at how i’ve “dragged” many other things including the original outfits for descendants, evie thinking mermaid dresses are ugly, evie not liking wine, and so forth. my portrayal of evie =/= other portrayals of evie. while she may never do so-and-so, it doesn’t make it wrong for another portrayal to do it. ( why was my blog being kept tabs on and compared with, in the first place? that’s not duplicate friendly ).

regarding sex week: i've stated it was an inappropriate event because the descendants rpc had been heavily criticized for smutting and felt it wasn't the best response, nor was it the best way to promote sex positivity. it was insanely uncomfortable to witness, as someone in this rpc. it doesn’t matter if the people or the muses involved were adults, i would still call it inappropriate had it happened in any other rpc. it wasn’t a “block and move on” situation. i’m also allowed to defend myself because i didn’t want to be associated with something she posted. i didn’t want it tied to my url. i would like to clarify that when i said "embarrassing" in the responses under that anon, it was directed at the anon for misreading the url, nobody else. ostracizing occurred when the descendants rpc was being added to DNIs because of sex week / smutting, which was posted by this person ( if you post it, you start it. simple ). i had been blocked simply because i am a descendants blog and that had never happened before.

i was also notified that people uninvolved with this have been namedropping me on dash in an attempt to have me “written off” ( their words, not mine ) because my rules stated that i was open to exploring evie’s sexuality. below is a screenshot of my rule regarding smut. i deleted the rules page from this blog when i moved so i snatched it from my other canon descendants blog that i reuse on all blogs. the second is my elaboration on sexual content in my new evie rules. the third is what’s on my google doc, a condensed version of my rules. there is a major difference between smutting and posting a public dash event dedicated to sex versus being open to explore sexuality as a topic. they are not the same. also, me not choosing to smut does not dictate my opinion on smut, so do not make assumptions about that either. if you want to move on, why are you still talking about me on dash, especially when unprompted? if you just want to move on, why are you upset that i’m not “written off”?

this person has vagued me multiple times ( which they conveniently did not show in the call-out ), this person has been shown to talk badly of me in private ( and now, publicly as well ) ---- all of which i have not done. i have screenshots sent by others to show for it, but do not feel it’s relevant to share because this is not about her. this is just about defending myself.

i have spent three months apologizing for feeling things, apologizing for reacting, apologizing for things i should not have been apologizing for. i have spent so long accepting blame because i felt it would help. i’m done doing that. i know what i did and what i didn’t do. people know what i did and didn’t do.

all in all, i am confused on why a call-out was made when the content provides nothing other than catty remarks meant to air out personal drama. the messages exchanged only show how i tried to remedy things. the screenshots of my “vagues” were just responses, and most of which had nothing to do with this person. my initial silly dash commentary and later discomfort over a sexual dash event posted by this person is not a vague.

if you ( referring to maker of the call-out and others who partook ) are upset about people not talking about me in regards to the “rest of the call-out”, maybe consider the fact that there was nothing about me in it that warranted a call-out in the first place. people saw that i did nothing wrong. the only thing of substance in the call-out was something the maker themselves did : the public, sexual dash event. people are allowed to identify that as a more prominent issue as opposed to how my messages or public posts could be perceived through basic, biased narrative manipulation.

me deciding to unfollow / softblock blogs that interact with this person =/= involving the descendants rpc or making it public. i am allowed to softblock whoever i want to cultivate my dash experience. most people i know have it in their rules that they are okay with people softblocking for their comfort and that it won’t be taken personally. you know what IS making it public and involving the entire descendants rpc? this person messaging a descendants server and name dropping me in the server, reducing the situation to just being about a “url” and publicly announcing it in the server. here are the facts to consider: her message was sent jan. 21. my DNI went up feb 2.

so, regarding the call-out: there was no bullying, no manipulation, no harassment, no gaslighting, nothing from my end, and the call-out shows precisely that the claims are just that: claims. whatever was felt is valid, but feelings =/= gravity of the actual action itself - the most common thing pointed out in therapy: feelings are valid, but are they justified? call-outs should be reserved for people who cause actual harm, not because someone wants an excuse to blacklist. if i am a “bully” for unfollowing blogs for my own comfort, then i think the rpc really needs to reevaluate what these terms mean because the misuse is harmful.

here are the things i did do: treated everyone i talked to with respect. approached things civilly. communicated. tried to accommodate for others. attempted to make a safe space for myself. did not involve the entire rpc by announcing it in a server. did not make a call-out post nor pin it. did not continue to name drop afterwards despite claiming to want to move on.

this entire situation is absurd and should have never been public, much less made a call-out for !! while this was meant to defend myself and state facts, i understand it may not change minds. a friend has told me that people will hate me because they want to hate me, no matter what. and i can’t do anything about that !! all i have to say is that holding hate in your heart never ends well. i hope everyone can find peace at some point.

so please, let me move on. let me write with my friends. let me unfollow / softblock people to keep my dash comfortable. let me take a break from descendants while also having the choice to return at anytime. please stop talking about me when i’m not even giving this another thought and haven’t since i moved blogs. please stop name dropping. stop keeping tabs on me, stop stalking my new blog. please leave me alone. i hold absolutely nothing against anyone i may have softblocked / unfollowed or am not currently interacting with on my new blog. my IMS / discord is always available, you will not be violating my safety by messaging me, everyone is welcome, but i also understand if you feel the need to separate yourself !!! as for those of you who have interacted with the call-out post, i wish you the best but i hope you understand why i do not want to interact with you by any means in the future.

i’m hoping this post lays everything to rest, seeing as my first one did not. honestly, what are you trying to prove if you still have to post about this? it helps nobody. this back-and-forth is exhausting and unneeded. no more. let’s be better people, yeah?

i hope everyone takes care of themselves, i hope you all have a great day / night !!! thank you for reading this long boi !!

#this is a long boi.#thank u to everyone who's offered their support these past few days!#i refuse to let people push me out with baseless claims !!!#so here are all the facts #i really don't want to talk about this anymore but if u need proof of the things this person has done u can msg me #otherwise. this ends here.#pls don't reblog!

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amariemelody · 4 years ago

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Under the Bonnet Debate, it Smells like Misogynoir

I know that the discourse over Black women wearing bonnets, scarves, head wraps, do-rags, etc. in public is nothing new. I know a lot of the discussion on what Black women can and cannot, should and should not say or do in public period is nothing new.

I am a Black woman who admittedly would not wear a bonnet (I'll shorten the many coverings we can wear to just "bonnet" from here on out) in public. The most I'll wear it outside is if I'm just checking the mail box, picking up a package outside the door, and/or taking some trash out. Otherwise, I'm inside my home when I wear my head wraps. I sport an afro and admit I've only started wearing coverings regularly as recently as last year. They've helped my hair retain moisture and start to grow even more; they've helped me stop an anxiety tic of mine wherein I pull, tug, twist, etc. at my hair until it's breaking off and my hands have leeched all the moisture out; they’ve also helped protect my hair from the heat of my shower, right under my shower cap.

So I'm a Bonnet-in-the-house Black girl...and I am still 10,000% down for Black women who wear bonnets outside of their home.

There seems to be a reinvigorated camp for those who say that Black women should never wear bonnets outside of their house. I'm not surprised but one of their justifications stands out to me because it is...an empty, dangerous platitude. That platitude is, to paraphrase, "We should want to look and be our best at all times. Because remember one of us represents all of us."

One of us represents all of us.

Initially it can sound...comforting and empowering. Simple social common sense for Black women constantly under besiege from misogynoir. It possibly even echoes of popular expressions and movements like #BlackGirlMagic or #BlackGirlsRock, both of which I use and enjoy quite a bit.

But it's not any of those things.

And I don't despise it simply because it's wrong-I despise it because it's actually only half-true and it is a half-truth Black women the world over should reject.

When it comes to bonnets, we're being told that we shouldn't want to be represented on one side of the half-that is, the half wherein we appear less than presentable in public. And bonnets in public are considered less than presentable.

This is playing into a game that all Black women of all shapes, sizes, shades, socioeconomic status, etc. are well familiar: the game of body policing.

Body policing based upon white supremacist, kyriarchal standards. Body policing that neither really benefits anyone nor lets anyone win-not even cishet, able-bodied, conventional white men can win at the end of the day and certainly never Black women.

And truly the policing of bonnets is but a longtime sibling of overall body policing, which begins even before anyone cares about what we do and do not put on our heads. And that body policing is not just dangerous because of the immense psychological and emotional damage it can create, but because for the most part 1.) black women cannot readily escape our bodies and 2.) a lot of the vitriolic misogynoir is often directed at how our bodies simply naturally occur.

Take my natural body for example. Regardless of the fact that I don't wear bonnets in public myself.

I am a plus-sized, dark-skinned black woman. I am 5"6; weigh well over 200 lbs (stress been making me gain weight long before the pandemic); have broad/wide shoulders; have a natural 'fro; and did I mention that I'm plus-sized?

From the time of my childhood, because of the intersections of misogynoir, sizeism, and fatphobia against my natural body, I have been made to feel that:

Just by existing in public, I automatically take up too much space/more than my fair share of space. It is always space that I do not deserve and I should always work to shrink myself as much as possible and stay out of other people’s way.

I am automatically aggressive, antagonistic, and angry/easy to anger. I'm a hair trigger always just waiting for my moment.

I am naturally dirty/unhygienic and unkempt.

I am neither attractive/desirable (at least not within the context of my own agency and consent) nor should I even think about expressing attraction/desire for someone else.

There's no way in the world I possess any kind of varied, valuable intelligence and thoughts.

There's no way in the world I possess any kind of healthy, mature communication skills.

That was a lot to unpack in not so many bullet points.

And understand this is just what I've learned is projected onto my body as it naturally occurs. This is before I even open my mouth to say "Hello". This is before getting to what I’m wearing. This is before getting to my actual demeanor/aura.

All of this comes before whatever I may or may not be wearing on my head.

On a side note, I hadn't realized how much of this I had subconsciously internalized and how it influenced how the way I moved and navigated my body in public. For example if I need to brush past people, I of course always say, "Excuse me"; I also often give a smile if the person can see it. I do this so easily that it's all but a reflex. But because of the breadth of my body and the brownness of my skin, there's been many a time when I feel that I actually bowled the other person over and shouted at them to get out of my way.

I'm still working on feeling safe and comfortable enough to naturally claim public space.

But yes, that is my natural body which, again, is something that I can neither readily change nor escape. It is often found quite wanting for being positive representation of my fellow Black women.

That means that I have to contend with one side of that half-truth: my natural body as it simply exists is deemed not positive representation of Black women as a whole, is considered to be the rule proven.

And the rule is that, as a Black woman, I am not presentable no matter what I step out of the house looking like. Bonnet or no bonnet.

Now when you get to my personality, traits, habits, etc…I’m very much the opposite of what is projected onto my body. The contradiction people don’t expect often starts with my voice: it’s naturally soft, pretty low in volume, and a little high in pitch. I smile readily and easily (hell, sometimes I smile and make funny faces in my bathroom mirror to make myself feel better). I’m often so agreeable and companionable that when I was a senior in high school I won the senior superlative of “Friendliest” out of 400+ other senior students. And to this day people still say that I am [one of] the sweetest, kindest people they’ve ever met.

I am a giant nerd who absolutely loves to learn and has generally done well in school all my life; when I can quiet and clear my mind enough for it, I am an avid reader. As an adult, I still often find myself being as inquisitive about the world around me as when I was a child.

More or less to White and non-Black people of color, all of these are considered positive representations of a Black woman. And people typically just have to get to the “Hello” phase with me to find out one of my above traits.

But when those positive traits are brought to light-and they’re often brought to light quickly-I am now pigeonholed on the other end of the spectrum. That is, I am no longer the rule proven but the exception to the rule.

The psyche of bigotry cannot and does not want to conceive that their target can ever be anything other than the negativities and deficiencies it projects onto them. When said target proves those projections wrong, it is just often far too difficult-possibly even unthinkable-that that single positive can renew and refresh the perception of the whole. Instead, it is much easier for the single positive be treated as an outlier, an exception so that the perception of the whole can remain the same.

White supremacy has many neuroses in place that make sure to always allow White people to win while people of color, especially Black people, always lose. One such neurosis is that when people of color have negative attributes, setbacks, traits, etc. applied to them, they remain the sore thumb that proves the rule, but if they have positive attributes, accomplishments, traits, etc. applied to them…they then become an exception to the rule.

The true phenomenon is not, “Black women, every time you step out of your house, you represent all of us as a whole” but actually, “Black women, every time you step out of your house and you say/do/are something bad or simply perceived as bad (i.e, wearing bonnets in public), then you represent us as a whole. But every time you step out of your house and you say/do/are something positive or simply perceived as positive (i.e, not wearing bonnets in public), then and only then do you represent yourself as an exception to the rule.”

And to digress a little, in my experience it honestly is not fun being deemed the positive exception. It caused me to grow up suffering a huge disassociation between who I was and what I was. From everyone including other Black girls that bullied me for being different from them to well-meaning White teachers, I started to internalize that my personality meant I was not a typical Black girl. Or barely a Black girl at all.

Long story short, it wasn’t until about my early twenties that I was able to start on the road to un-internalize that terrible mess. I learned that I can say that I am nice and kind and smart and giggly and still Black. I am a lot of good things and I am also Black Black Blackity Black. Generally positive traits are not paradoxical with Blackness because to be Black is not a bad thing that must compensated for.

Black girls and women can be and are a lot of good things and our Blackness is one of those good things.

So I’m definitely not saying that being considered an exception to the rule is any kind of accomplishment. It can actually be very psychologically damaging and take a long, long time to unlearn it.

It’s true that Black women will always be burdened with the dichotomy of the half-truth “One of us represents all of us!” because it is an inescapable part of the many neuroses of white supremacy-we lose no matter what we step out of the house looking like.

The core of the issue is not Black women leaving their houses and being visible in public with bonnets on, but Black women leaving their houses and being visible in public period. For goodness’ sake, once upon a time it was the law for Black women to cover their hair in public-hello there, Tignon.

But being unable to escape such a burden does not mean we should be surrendering to it.

We shouldn’t want to believe and buy into the idea that part of taking care of each other is taking on the impossible strain of all of us representing each other. That is not an empowering statement-it is disempowering to the extreme because it’s perpetuating the mindset that we are a monolith undeserving of our individuality. My god, we Black women come in every kind of shade and shape and size and music taste and food taste and language and dialect and we don’t all know each other and we don’t always even like each other.

I just…I’m not yet that old, but the older I get the more and more I feel that sometimes as black women we can not only be our own worst enemies and each other’s worst policers. And I wish deeply and desperately that black women would stop policing each other and policing each other for, of all things, an arbitrary acceptance that ultimately means nothing even if we could achieve it.

One of us represents just that: one of us.

#Misogynoir #Internalized misogynoir #Anti-black racism #Black hair #Anxiety tw #Amarie talks

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