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talesfromthefade · 5 years ago

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Fenris x Anders (Act III, “My Mage” verse), for @dadrunkwriting & @sulevinblade

Fenris makes his way up the staircase, pausing for a moment at the threshold to a room fit to burst with seven years- a lifetime’s- worth of memories. A life he’d never really thought to look for, much less expected to find. Freedom beyond the kind that had come from escaping Danarius, or even after his former master’s death. And love, the elf thinks, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as his eyes land upon the sheets and quilt, still rumpled from where he and Anders woke and worshiped one anothers bodies only a few hours ago.

The smile turns to a frown, brows furrowing beneath snow-white hair as he notices the hastily packed satchel leaning against one of the bedposts. After years on the run, becoming used to packing up and leaving at a moment’s notice, Fenris hasn’t bothered to put much stock in sentimentality or possessions. The elf supposes although Anders has never been especially eager to talk about it in anything more than a passing and flippant sort of manner, he and his mage are much the same in that respect. Aside from being able to wake up beside him every morning, very little change was required to facilitate this next step in their relationship when Fenris asked Anders to move in with him. Anders brought everything he owned and wouldn’t need at his clinic in a single trip.

Still, over the last few years, few in number though they were, Fenris had grown used to seeing his lover’s things spread out and interspersed among his own. Seeing it all collected, tucked away like this, it’s suddenly easy to recognize how and why the sight had comforted him- Anders feeling safe, at home with him, even in as unlikely, as accursed a place as this house.

Fenris isn’t stupid, it’s not escaped him that Anders has been keeping things from him. Has ceased to speak about mages and their rights, or the Underground, as often as he once did. The elf is still cautious, will probably never entirely trust or extend just any mage the benefit of the doubt, but he’s been… tolerant of his mage’s interests and politics, he’s tried to be supportive where he can be, dropping any pretense of real animosity towards him shortly after they acknowledged their mutual attraction to one another. Kirkwall has never been friendly towards its mages, but he knows its become even less so in the last few years, and he knows it’s taken its toll on Anders, and the spirit he carries within him, even if they aren’t talking about it much.

The elf’s been trying to think of ways to draw his lover out again, get him to open up. To let him know he’s seen the way he’s begun walling himself off, without shaming him for it, and maybe, help him dismantle it. He thought he’d have more time.

“Out,” Fenris growls at the nearby refugees as he stalks into the Clinic a short while later, the brands on his skin glowing a little as anger and frustration bubble up inside him. The few patients and individuals hanging around don’t need to be told twice. It’s far from the first time the grumpy elf has been seen around the clinic or in the company of the Darktown Healer, but his expression and the enormous broadsword he carries on his back generally are enough to keep any of Anders patients from getting too close or speaking to him.

“Fenris.” The mage sounds… nervous, and Fenris doesn’t like the way those handsome amber eyes busy themselves avoiding his. With effort, as the last patient leaves, closing the door behind them, the elf unclenches his balled-up fists and rolls his head from one shoulder to the other with a long, slow breath to release the tension he’s carried in them since Hightown. Anger feels safer than the fear and anxiety seeing his lover’s things all packed up did, but it probably won’t get him the answers or results he wants.

“Amatus,” and Maker, if it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t make his entire chest ache to call him that in the face of so much uncertainty, with the knowledge this man, this mage he’s given himself over to could hurt him, could destroy him far worse than Danarius or Hadriana ever had the power to. It is, what he is, however, whatever follows, and the term of endearment seems to take Anders sufficiently by surprise to draw his wide-eyed gaze to Fenris’ once more. “Tell me why your things are packed up. Please,” he adds, no longer caring how weak or desperate the plea might make him sound. He is. He’s losing him, and he can’t lose him. Not without at least putting up a damn good fight.

“Fenris,” Anders chokes tearfully, shaking his head. “Love, I-” the healer whispers, words so soft, little more than an exhale, the might be missed if the elf weren’t hanging on every syllable.

“Tell me what to do, what you need,” he presses.

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Do you still love me, Anders?” Fenris asks, closing the distance between them until he could reach out and touch him, but holding himself back. Anders laughs, as though the question is impossibly ridiculous, but it’s shaky, still overwrought with emotions he’s yet to give name or voice to. “Do you love me,” the elf repeats, needing to hear his response.

“Yes,” Anders nods, fixing his eyes to his lover’s green ones, though Fenris can tell it’s an effort not to look away again. “Yes, of course, I do, Fenris. But I-” he begins.

“Do you want to leave me,” the elf interrupts.

“No.” The word is almost swallowed by a sob but bursts forth without a moment’s hesitation, and Fenris can’t help himself, can’t hold himself back from him any longer, reaching out to clasp his lover’s hands before pulling Anders into him, willing his body, despite its slightly shorter form to wrap entirely around him, to hold and shield him from whatever threatens him, threatens them now.

“Then it is that simple, mage,” Fenris insists, forcing his voice to be as calm and steady as the hand that reaches out to carefully brush strawberry blonde hair back from Ander’s lightly stubbled cheek. The healer shudders beneath his touch but doesn’t flinch away, burrowing into his chest and wrapping his thinner arms back around him instead. “Anders,” Fenris whispers softly, clinging back just as fond and desperately. “My mage,” the elf continues, pressing a feather-light kiss to Anders’ temple. “My Amatus.”

“Fenris-” Anders shudders once more, slowly peeling his face from the elf’s chest to look up at him, eyes brimming with fresh tears and uncertainty. “I’ve done something- something I can’t take back.”

“Do you want to? Take it back?”

“Yes. No. No,” he corrects himself, shaking his head. “No, it was the right thing. The only thing. But I- I’m not sure you won’t hate me for it, and- and if I see the other side of it, I can’t stay here.”

Let someone, let anyone try to take this man from me, Fenris thinks, momentarily tightening his grip on his lover as a hand gently coaxes his head to rest in the crook of his neck and he presses another soft kiss to the top of his head. “I think we’ve proven by now I could never hate you,” the elf replies, a small flicker of hope, of a smile creeping back in. “Not even when I was trying to. I’ve no desire to start now. After every ugly and difficult trial you have seen and supported me through, is it so difficult to believe that I might want to do as much for you?” Anders shakes his head but doesn’t look up or muster any reply. “I am yours, Amatus,” the elf whispers, the words and warmth of his breath caressing the healer’s ear. “Wherever you go, I remain at your side.”

“You can’t promise me that,” Anders whispers with a convulsive shudder in his lover’s arms.

“And yet,” Fenris smiles softly, “this is me doing just that.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” the mage protests.

“Perhaps,” Fenris nods. And there was a time when that very thought would have terrified him. When the idea of trusting any mage with so little information would have horrified him. It isn’t without at least some anxiety now, but nothing so much as the thought of losing Anders. Danarius’ mansion in Hightown, what scant things he or Anders collectively own or share, all of it can be lost, replaced or rebuilt, but Anders, what the pair of them have, Fenris won’t rest in his efforts to defend and to keep it, even if that fight is against his lover’s own doubts and insecurities. “But I know you’ll have done what you believed was right, that you’ll have acted with your heart.”

“That’s enough,” Anders ventures cautiously, and Fenris nods, pulling him as close as he can without hurting him.

“I love that heart.” Anders laughs softly, a little less hollow than before, like some small part of him believes him, or wants to, and Fenris feels the walls his mage has worked so hard to build up these last few months give just a little. The battle’s far from over, but Fenris thinks as Anders finally lifts his head and the healer lets his mouth seek his, it’s a decent start.

#dadrunkwriting #sulevinblade #fenders #fenris #anders #dragon age 2 #da2 #dragon age #my mage

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witchymarvelspacecase · 5 years ago

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Promise Not to Be Mad

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, Angst, mentions of injuries, cardiac arrest, more fluff

My entry to @whiskey-cokenfanfic‘s birthday challenge. It’s a day late cause I’m a piece of shit person. Sorry!!! Hope the birthday was amazing!

Prompt is in bold.

Bucky had fallen asleep in the common room. He’d been watching a movie with Sam, Wanda, and you. When he opened his, Sam and Wanda were both gone, and the TV was turned off. There was a blanket over his shoulders, and your head was in his lap. He didn’t remember you being that way before he fell asleep, but he was pleasantly surprised. There was a blanket draped over you too. Bucky suspected Sam was behind the blankets, but knew he’d never admit to it.

Sunlight was just starting to spill through the windows of the tower and the rays lit up the dust motes in the air, making them seem to sparkle. Subtle highlights in your hair sparkled too. The light brushed you face softly, giving you an otherworldly glow. Bucky wished he had some of Steve’s talent just then; he didn’t even have a camera handy.

And the moment wasn’t long-lived either. No sooner had Bucky made a conscious effort to commit the beauty before him to memory, than an alarm began blaring throughout the tower.

You shot up out of his lap, or at least, you tried to. The blanket tangled around you and caused you to flop unceremoniously on the floor.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Bucky chuckled.

You gave him a tired glare which would have been much more fearsome had you not been sporting sleep marks on your face from the creases in Bucky’s pants.

He helped you up and you both sprinted to the conference room.

“Ah, sleeping beauty,” Sam called as you entered the room. You weren’t sure who Sam was referring to, but you flipped him off anyway, before directing your attention to Steve and Tony.

“U.N. compound is under attack. They don’t have the resources to defend themselves, and we’re pretty sure the attackers have ties to more than one international terrorist organization, so we’re up. Wheels up in 20.”

The file you picked up as you boarded the quinjet told you more. An untold number of insurgents with automatic weapons and some alien tech were hitting the U.N.. The building was in some tiny European country you’d never heard of, but there were more than a few dignitaries in residence at the moment, and this had all the potential to become a war if not handled properly.

“Couldn’t have waited an hour before they attacked, I was having a good dream,” you grumbled as you strapped into your seat.

“Well you certainly looked comfy enough, cuddling up with Bucky n’ all.”

“Shut up, Steve.”

“Well ya were,” Steve smiled as he continued teasing you.

Honestly, you’d been pretty mortified that you’d fallen asleep on Bucky like that. It would have been bad enough if Steve saw you, but the fact that Bucky had been awake and sen you? God you wanted to die.

More than once you had the urge to cuddle with Bucky, more than once you had wanted nothing more than to lean into him, or hug him, but you just felt you couldn’t. You wouldn’t throw yourself at him like that. This wasn’t the first time Steve had teased you about this either. He knew how you felt about Bucky. More than one drunken, or emotional confession had poured form your lips, and Steve was always willing to listen. You would regret the confessions later though; he didn’t mean anything by his picking on you, but sometimes it was too much.

You looked away from Steve, checking your gear again to avoid his gaze.

“What, it’s sweet,” Steve continued. He sat next to you even though his chair was on the other side of the jet. Jerk. He wasn’t gonna let up.

“Let it go, Steve. I’m already embarrassed about it.”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?”

When you looked up, ready to chew him out, you caught his expression. He looked genuinely confused. Odd. You’d thought he’d been making fun of you. But before you could ask him about it, Bucky boarded the jet. He was the last to board so take off was initiated. Steve moved to his assigned seat, next to Bucky, and you were left confused.

…

“Hey Buck,” Steve said quietly as the jet flew to the U.N. building, “why would she be embarrassed that I saw you two cuddle up this morning?” Bucky caught Steve’s nod in your direction, but he wasn’t sure what to say. His face must have said as much, because Steve continued. “I mean, we all know you like each other. I just figured you’d finally figured it out. She’s got no reason to be embarrassed.”

“You what?” Bucky practically shouted.

“What what?”

“Why would you think we were- what do you mean “like each other”?”

“Seriously? Aside from the fact that you both practically moon over each other? I am friends with both of you. I talk to both of you. I know both of you,” Steve responded, exasperated.

“Yeah? And?”

“Think about how I know that you like her. Then ask yourself how I would know if she liked you.” Steve turned from Bucky’s lost face to look across the jet, a smirk on his lips.

Bucky didn’t have time to ponder that thought, final descent was called and everyone checked their gear one last time.

“After this,” Bucky thought. He could hear the chaos; gunshots and explosions already. “After this is over, Stevie and I are gonna have a talk.” The sounds of battle increased in volume. Bucky met your gaze and you gave him a grin. His heart kicked in his chest. Could Steve be right? No way did he deserve her, but if she chose him? Fuck, he’d do anything for her. He returned her grin with a wink as the jet’s rear door lowered.

It felt like moments later, but in reality hours had passed. Most of the insurgents had been cleared out, and all the civilians had been moved into the compound, to safety. A steady rain had begun to pour from the sky making your jobs harder, but the team was down to the last handful of enemies when it happened.

Bucky heard you shout for Wanda, saw you running for her, pushing her out of the way. Then nothing. He couldn’t hear the gunshots anymore. He couldn’t hear Steve yelling. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, and over that, the echo of your scream. He felt like it took him far too long to cross the field to you. He didn’t feel pain as his knees hit the ground beside you, and he didn’t notice how his pants grew damp with a combination of rain water and your blood.

Your eyes were wide open, but it was like you couldn’t see. Bucky had his hands on either side of your face, cupping your cheeks, but you didn’t look at him until he called your name.

“Hey,” you said weakly, a grimace ruining the smile you tried to give Bucky.

“Hey yourself. I thought you said it was Sam’s turn to get shot?” Bucky tried to keep his tone light as he assessed you. He could barely see anything with the dark tac-suit you had on combined with the cloud filled sky. The rain made it hard to discern what was blood and what was water. For a moment he wasn’t sure you had been wounded at all, until his hand brushed your abdomen.

You gasped, then a pain filled whine fell from your lips as Bucky applied pressure to the heavily bleeding hole below your ribs.

He called over the comms for someone, anyone. He needed to get you out, to get you help, but everyone was engaged. Bucky all but screamed. More insurgents appeared around him, and for a moment, Bucky hesitated. He knew if he took the pressure off your wound, you might die, but if he didn’t handle the attackers, you would both die.

He hesitated a moment too long.

You managed to pull a gun from your thigh holster, and put bullets into three of the attackers before any of them even noticed you. The moment one of the opposing gun barrels pointed at you, Bucky moved.

Moments later, he stood over the fallen bodies of the insurgents. He hadn’t meant to kill any of them, at least not in the beginning. Now? Now, he didn’t bother to check any of them for vitals. Now, he moved quickly back to you.

Your color was awful. Where you’d once had a healthy glow, your skin was ashen. You were shaking slightly, and your lips had a bluish tint to them. Bucky’s knees hit the ground by your head and he carefully pulled you up so your shoulders were resting on his lap.

“Did we get them all?” you asked.

Bucky smiled, but tears were pooling in his eyes. “Yeah, we did. You got most of ‘em for me though, I just cleaned up.”

You tried to laugh, but it hurt so bad. You could barely breathe. Short, shallow pants were all you could manage.

Bucky’s fingers were gentle where they glided over your cheeks, wiping away the rain water, muck, and blood. You gave him a wan smile when one of his hands reached for yours, and you forced your non-responsive fingers to thread through his.

“Please don’t go.” Bucky’s whisper surprised you a little.

“You had to know I wasn’t gonna live forever, Bucky. No one does.”

“You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live!” he yelled. He was angry, but not sure at whom.

“I’m tryin’,” you coughed and something warm trickled from your lips. “Promise you won’t be mad … if I fail?”

“I could never be mad at you, doll,” Bucky choked as tears spilled over his cheeks.

Sam and Steve appeared as your eyes closed. The rest of the insurgents had turned tail and run. The Avengers were pulling back into the compound. A flurry of activity ensued. Bucky was unaware of most of it. He saw you being placed on a gurney and taken away from him, and it was like his mind went blank.

Next thing he knew, he was ensconced in a very uncomfortable plastic chair, staring at the blood encrusting his hands, as Steve paced in front of him.

…

Garbled announcements came over the P.A. Helen Cho power walked past him, and through a set of double doors, barely pausing to take a clipboard that the nurse offered to her.

More and more people in scrubs dashed past, but Bucky could barely tell. All he could see was your smiling face turning into a pained grimace, and all he could hear was you asking him not to be angry with you.

It was all so very far away from where the day had begun. All he’d wanted a few hours ago was to tell you how beautiful you were. Now, maybe he’d missed his chance. He wouldn’t get to tell you, wouldn’t ever be able to kiss you if…

“Please live. Please,” Bucky whispered, his eyes shut tight against the hospital’s bright lights.

…

That was where Tony found him. Hunched over in a tiny chair, looking as if the weight of the world had fallen on his shoulders.

Tony knew that feeling, but he didn’t know how to help. Fortunately, Wanda walked in behind him. She stepped around Tony to crouch in front of Bucky.

“C’mon Bucky. We need to get you cleaned up before she wakes up. She’ll tell us all off for letting you sit around like this.” Wanda kept her tone soft, but her grip was firm as she tugged Bucky out of his chair, and down the hallway. Tony wondered is she may have used a bit of her powers, since Bucky didn’t utter a single protest at being removed from the area, but he didn’t ask, instead he walked over to stand next to Steve.

“Any news?” he asked.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, and there was damage to her stomach.” The men both looked out the window. “The doc was optimistic the last time I checked, but that was before she coded.” Steve shivered slightly.

“Little thing like that won’t stop her, Rogers,” Tony’s voice sounded sure. Steve wasn’t sure if he really believed that or not, but he nodded, wanting to believe.

…

It was a few days later that the doctors gave the all clear for visitors. You hadn’t woken up, but the medical staff assured the team that you would soon. Bucky didn’t know if he believed them. He’d seen the blood, the wound. He couldn’t stop seeing them. He wouldn’t leave the room you were in. Steve hadn’t told him that your heart had stopped, let alone that it had stopped twice, and he wasn’t planning on it either. Bucky only left your side to go to the bathroom, and only then if either Sam or Natasha was with you.

Bucky held your hand. Sometimes he would rub his thumb over the back of your hand, sometimes he would hold your hand up to his cheek. Sometimes he would kiss your knuckles. But he wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t.

He fell asleep like that, holding your hand to his cheek, with his head resting on your bed. HIs back would be killing him in the morning, but he hadn’t thought of that. HAdn;t intended to sleep at all.

When you woke, the lights were just a bit to bright, but when you tried to raise your hand to shield your eyes, you couldn’t move it. Squinting, you looked to your hand and noticed a few things. One, there was an ugly pink blanket that was certainly not yours over you. Two, there was an I.V. in the back of your hand. And three, Bucky was under that hand, his hand on your wrist.

Raising your head slightly, you looked around. Not my room. Looking out the window you knew you weren’t even in the tower. You went to adjust your legs and an involuntary groan slipped from your mouth before you could stop it.

Bucky’s head shot up. He looked around the room, checking for danger, and it took him a moment before he looked to you.

“Hey,” you croaked. Your voice was harsh with disuse, but Bucky clearly didn’t care. His hands came to either side of your face and he cupped your cheeks. You had a strange feeling of deja vu. Then your mind rolled back to the last thing you remembered. Bucky, pleading for you to live. “I’m okay Bucky. I’m okay.”

Bucky let out gasping breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead on yours. He pressed a kiss to the space between your eyes and his hands slid to the back of your head.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” His voice sounded gravely, like he was having a hard time talking.

“I’ll do my best,” you promised, relaxing into the back of the bed, letting Bucky lean into you. “Promise not to be mad if I fail?”

Bucky pulled back then. His eyes stared straight into yours.His right hand came to the side of your face again before he leaned back towards you, but this time, he didn’t press his forehead to yours. This time he pressed his lips to yours. It was a brief, chaste kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless. You blinked at him as he pulled back. When he started to look worried, you smiled at him and raised your hand to grasp his right wrist, squeezing gently. He returned your smile before pressing a longer kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back again he said, “I could never be angry at you, doll.”

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#whiskey-cokenfanfic birthday challenge

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readbeneaththelines · 5 years ago

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Giving Him Control Pt. 9

A/N: The contract between a Dom and a Sub can be vital to prevent any misunderstandings or complications in the relationship. It can be negotiable, and can include whatever is agreed upon between both parties.

Characters: Ravi x Reader

Warnings: soft Ravi?, maybe fluff?

Word Count: 1905

Please remember, this is NSFW. There is the Dom/Sub aspect of the characters, so if that is a trigger, please proceed at your own discretion.

Definition of contract

(Entry 1 of 3)

: a binding agreement between two or more persons or parties especially one legally enforceable : a business arrangement for the supply of goods or services at a fixed price make parts on contract : the act of marriage or an agreement to marry : a document describing the terms of a contract

You wanted to get each thing written down, that way you knew your ‘role’ and his, what you could and couldn’t do, and what exactly he could and couldn’t do as punishments. You wanted to take this ‘agreement’ seriously, for both your sakes. No guilt from you or him. If you were going to make this work, you had to know your position, just like at any job. Even though you liked Ravi, a lot, you didn’t want him to second guess choosing you. To be honest, you were willing to play any ‘role’ in order to get to his heart, to find out about his secrets, and to break through his walls. Whatever it took.

Grabbing your coffee, you started for the study, him following behind you. You pulled a chair up to his desk, reaching for a pen and some paper. He came around, sitting in his chair, watching you with a serious expression.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I am going to write down what I expect from you as your submissive. I want you to take your own pen and paper, and do the same. When we are done we then write down our expectations as far as our ‘relationship’. Finally, we are going to talk about what our limits are for each other, such as the no touching and punishments, etc. There are things I am willing to try, but there are also things that I am not budging on, and I will list those. Same for you, I expect.” you continued to ramble as you began jotting things down.

Putting pen to paper, he started his own lists. It took you both almost an hour to finish. He handed his lists to you, wanting you to review them.

“If there is something that you think is out of line, make a note next to it. We can discuss those things later.” he took your paper and began reading.

What I Expect From You

1: Treat me with respect

2: Be understanding, I am new to this, you aren’t

3: Give me free time each week, even if it’s just a few hours

4: Ask for my input on decisions that involve me

4: If I am deserving of punishment, refer to my limits

5: If I make a mistake, explain what I did wrong so I will know in the future

6: Talk to me, we need to communicate in order to learn about each other

What I Expect From Myself

1: I will respect you and trust you

2: I will do my best to understand you

3: I will keep myself healthy, letting you know if I do not feel well

4: I will follow your directions, to the best of my ability

5: I will strive to better myself, aiming to please you

6: I will keep my mind and body in the best physical condition, so that I am able to please you

7: I will talk to you if I have any concerns with our agreement

Limits That I Have

Soft:

Sexual toys, except for a vibrator, being used without my consent

All extremities tied down

Sex during my monthly cycle

Choking or being gagged

Staying naked during normal daily routine

No videos or photographs without my consent

No third party, again without my consent

No marking me in places that I can’t cover

Hard:

Physical Abuse of any kind

No degrading or derogatory name calling

Anal sex, even with toys

Slavery

Giving me to someone else, sexually or otherwise

Depriving me of basic needs

Neglect

Our Relationship

1: I expect to be called either your friend or girlfriend, not your submissive

2: Treat me with the same respect as you would the aforementioned labels

3: If you decide to end this relationship/agreement, you will allow me time to find other living and financial arrangements

4: If this relationship/arrangement is ended, we will not seek further contact with each other

Once you had completed your lists, you turned them over and set them aside. You waited patiently as he finished his. Setting his pen down, he then flipped his own pages over. Sliding them to the side, you both reached for the other's paper, flipping them over to read.

What I Expect From You

I expect you to be accepting of your role. I know this is new for you, but please set forth the effort to fully accept the role and rules.

I want dedication from you. Not in a give your everything way, but dedicate yourself to this agreement. This will take work, dedicate yourself to making this work as hard as I do.

Be honest with me. In everything, I want complete honesty. If we don’t communicate, this will not work and someone will get hurt.

Effort in completing the tasks I set forth for you. Give your best, willingly, to comply with my expectations in any given situation.

Trust me. You are new to this, I am not. I will teach you how to be my submissive, trust that your best interests, along with mine, are important to me. I will do my best to keep you safe and cause no harm to you.

I need you to be patient with me, just as I will be patient with you. I am still learning about you, your wants, desires, needs. Give me time to learn these, and I will give you time to learn mine.

This is a relationship of sacrifice. You are expected to sacrifice your own self in order to please me. In turn, I will sacrifice my time, on occasion, to please you. But you must remember, my wants and needs come first. (See amendment A)

A: You are allowed to forgo my needs if your health, be it physical, emotional, or mental, is in jeopardy. This will be discussed if the need arises.

I expect you to maintain your health and body. Keep yourself well groomed and manicured, as I see fit, at all times. Your cycles does not give an excuse to disregard your appearance.

You should always be prepared to please me sexually. (See amendment A)

A: During cycles, you may receive reprieve from sexual activity. This shall be discussed as needed.)

My Limits:

Soft Limits:

Role Play/Reversal

Third Party Participants

Sex Toys except for Vibrators, Straps, cuffs, and Cat-Of-Nine-Tails

Breath Play

Touching my face

Hard Limits:

No Touching of my chest, stomach, ankles

Fire/Ice Play

Watching me have sex with another person

Oral sex with a vibrator, or strap on

Anal Sex

Our Relationship/Agreement:

I am not looking for an emotional relationship, I need you to understand that first and foremost. We have agreed to this, on mutual terms, as something you want to explore. I have personal reasons for what I expect and why I need this form of agreement. I will address you as either my friend or partner, since very few people know of my situation. I would ask that you do not tell anyone of our agreement, I keep my life private, please keep it private too. I will treat you as anyone in a ‘normal relationship’ would be treated. I will spoil you when you are good, treat you to trips and special ‘you days’ as you deserve and earn them. There will be punishments for you mistreating my treats for you or for misbehaving. We may appear as a couple, but do not explain it as that. Respect my wishes, please. Anything mentioned in our contracts are up for negotiation as time proceeds. We will discuss these changes before adding them to our contracts. If either of us choose to end this agreement, we shall part ways, allowing no contact or breach of this contract. Neither participant shall disclose details of this agreement at any time during or after said agreement.

Picking up your pen, you immediately signed his terms of agreement. He watched your curiously, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you not have any questions? You are willing to accept what I set forth without argument? That’s very bold of you, considering you are new to this.”

“You said things are up for negotiation, as of right now I don’t see anything that needs negotiating.” you returned dryly.

With a smile and a nod, he in turn signed your agreement. Taking both packs of paper, he clipped them together and placed them in an envelope. Opening the safe beneath his desk, he placed the envelope in and locked it back.

“Well Y/N, now that that’s done, ready for your first lesson?” his smirk wide, eyes lit up with excitement.

“I thought you had to work today. You can’t do much teaching if you have to leave soon.”

“Oh, but my dear, I can. I have scheduled you at the salon and spa for this afternoon. They know exactly what I want you to have done. I expect to come home to a well manicured, deeply scrubbed, and pampered body. You will not cut any length from your hair, but you may color it any natural color close to your own. You may go lighter or darker, but no shade change. When I get home, I expect my favorite drink to be waiting. You will be dressed with the clothes I have selected for tonight dinner, hair down, make-up natural. You will cover all marks you have that are visible, even if they may be seen, cover them.”

“Anything else? And what shall I call you at home? Sir or Ravi?”

“I told you before, I am not a master or formal person to you. Ravi at home and with friends, Wonsik when we are at dinners and formal events. If you slip up, that will be punishable.”

“What shall I say if someone at one of these events asks me about our relationship ? What do I tell them?”

“Tell them that we are childhood friends, and you are in town for a long visit and I invited you.” he nodded at you, waiting for you to nod back in understanding.

You threw on some regular clothes, knowing you would be mostly undressed at the salon and spa treatments. He dressed up, wearing an all black matte suit, with a pink Oxford shirt and tie that matched. When he was fixed up, his aura gave off the allure of confidence and sex appeal. He gathered his briefcase and keys, calling for you to leave. You ran down the stairs, meeting him at the door.

“I will arrange for someone to pick you up after your appointment. Do not leave them waiting, please.” he informed you as he started the car.

“What time shall I expect you home?” you asked while looking out of the passenger window.

“I will be sure to call you when I am leaving.”

When he stopped in front of the salon, he grabbed your hand. You turned to face him before opening the door.

“Have a good time today and try to relax. I will see you later.” he lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles.

With a nod, you were out the door, you trying to hide your blushing face. You gazed into the storefront window, nervous about what he had scheduled for you. Turning back to the car, you smiled and gave him a thumbs up. With that you headed off into the small building.

@aspaceformyself @trapped-inside-my-head @beautifulseoulliar @maxinaptak @seoulsunshineandstories @xjamlessparkx @sugababemyg @kpop-addictedloser @min-shookga-yoongi @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi@trashkazuya @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570 @kwonnansi

#vixx ravi #ravi x reader #ravi smut #ravi

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light-of-valentia · 5 years ago

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The Time I Saw Teach Cry

Claude x Byleth, h/C

A/n: I had an idea for my first lengthy-ish writing on here, so please enjoy!! This will come in two parts; I will be publishing the second as soon as possible, and possibly merging them into one post.

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT FOR GOLDEN DEER ROUTE MOON OF THE BLOOD WOLVES, POST-REMIRE CALAMITY!!!

More A/N: I haven’t played a whole lot past this scene, but there was something about it that I feel could be expanded on. Sooo...here I am to expand it! Some of the dialogue towards the beginning has been slightly reworded from the in-game dialogue so as to keep the spirit of the game- I of course do not take credit for these concepts! Please enjoy!!! -Admin Belle

~~~~~

After a long and gruesome day of battle, Byleth found herself sitting on a lonesome bench underneath the towering upper limits of the reception hall. Releasing an unsteady breath from the depths of her lungs, her eyes traced along the geometric faces in the walls that surrounded her, their patterns eliciting themselves in callous repetition, as her mind wandered through a darkness she had become well-acquainted with. Looking death in its eye was nothing new to her, but being the onlooker as an ally tore down their guise to unveil their own take on death was completely new. Who was she to bask in the blissful ignorance formed by the walls of the church as the innocent souls of the people she once knew met an untimely end?

‘I could have done something about this had Rhea investigated sooner,’ she told herself, ‘but really, I should have taken on the initiative to investigate such a clear issue in such an otherwise peaceful place. If only I had just taken the time to check things out for myself sooner, they wouldn’t be dead, and my students would have never had to witness such a gruesome experiment of life and death. They’re so young and inexperienced, and being forced to witness the fear and desperation of innocent lives being sucked away from those people as a result of their own inability to respond fast enough has surely taken its toll upon the students...”

As Byleth continued to tread the overgrown shadows of her memory, she heard a pair of footsteps approach, her mind snapping back to reality as the easy clacking of footsteps against the chilled stone floor echoed through the hall.

“Hey, Teach, what’s up? You looked like you had your head in the clouds there for a minute.”

Byleth looked up and met a forest green gaze that matched her own air of worry. “Ah, good evening Claude. Do you need to speak with me?”

Claude moved his hand to scratch at his nape and shifted his weight to a more nonchalant posture as Byleth raised herself from where she sat to meet his stature. “Well,” he began, “I suppose you could say that. I’ve gotta admit, today’s assignment really wasn’t my favorite of the ones we’ve done.” Byleth offered a slow nod in mutuality as Claude continued, “I guess standing here and pretending to be unaffected won’t do anyone much good though, will it? It’s plain to see- that was absolutely terrible to behold. It’s always hard to see innocents die.”

As she softened her expression with a sympathetic half-smile, Byleth shifted her visual focus from the man’s face to something beyond his left shoulder. “I’m sorry, Claude. If I had been strong enough, no one would have had to die.”

“Hey,” the brunet began as he reached for Byleth’s palm, enveloping it in his own with a calm yet firm grip, “all you can do is keep smiling. Keep marching. That’s part of a leader’s job. You can’t give in to despair. Not just for me or you,” he continued as Byleth readjusted her focus to look him between the eyes once more, “but for all of us in the Golden Deer house. We have to keep smiling so the others can move forward too. As long as we don’t show that we’re disheartened, they’ll know they can make it too. Isn’t that what matters?”

Issuing another nod at the man’s words, she retained her halfhearted smile as Claude released her calloused hand from his grasp. Before tilting her head once more to conceal her eyes, the schemer managed to catch a glance into her eyes, detecting an air of wistfulness that made itself an anomaly within the normally placid atmosphere he found within them. “You’re such a wonderful leader, Claude,” Byleth said, breaking the silence that had begun to settle in. “It pleases me that you wish well for your comrades, but if you need to, please make sure to take some time for yourself.”

Claude looked back at her quizzically, folding his arms over his chest as his inquisitive nature started to get the better of him. “I could say the same to you, Teach. You’re always working so hard for all of us; even on your days off, you just never seem to be at rest.”

“Well, it’s my job to look after all of you. I don’t mind it at all.”

Claude furrowed his brow in seeming irritation at his professor’s deflection. “Are you sure you’re alright, teach? I can tell that something about you is off right now, and I’d much rather you just tell me than have to pry for it myself.”

“Claude, you need not worry about me,” Byleth responded. She could tell that Claude’s pervasive intuition had seen right through her guise, though she was still determined to put up a strong front for the younger male. “I am fully capable of handling myself, though I do appreciate your concern. Please, allow yourself to take a break if you must; you may be our house leader, but you are still a student just like any other with the needs of such.”

“You’re a part of this class too, you know. Just like I’m a house leader and a student, our class wouldn’t be a class without a teacher to teach it.”

“And, as your teacher, it’s my job to ensure that all of my students are well in both their academics, their performance, and emotionally. I struggle to believe that there is nothing going on beneath all of your antics, Claude.”

“Teach, I-” The brunet opened his mouth to retort once more, but Byleth ignored his gesture and kept talking, her eyes filling with more hurt as each word meandered across her lips.

“Again, your concern for others really is admirable. You always leap at the opportunity to assist the class in lessons and on the battlefield, yet you never seem to let anyone into your own mind. I worry that someday when you need help like you never have before, that you will refuse the aid of anyone that offers and let yourself drown in your own sorrow whilst putting on a front for others.”

Suddenly, a mist of emotions clouded the forest hues that had been previously studying Byleth’s lips, as if he was watching her words form a taut string that reached out and tied itself around his heart. “Teach…” Claude began, his tone beginning to drip with dejection, “I told you that everything will be ok if we just keep smiling. Why can’t you just trust me?”

Byleth, taken aback by such a question, put on a face of seriousness and looked at the male in front of her straight between his eyes. “Claude, you know I trust you. Why else would I put you at the front of the battlefield to lead on the other students? You’re so quick-witted and you’re a master tactician, I-”

“You know I’m not talking about the battlefield right now,” Claude softly spoke, disappointedly interrupting his beloved professor. “Look, I’m gonna cut the garbage and be blunt. I hate forcing my personal issues upon other people. You also hate putting your problems on other people. You may try to fool me, but like it or not, I can tell that you’re hurting. I know that you trust me with a bow in my hand, and I know I’ve told you not to trust me outside the realm of academia, but I need you to disregard that right now.” He used his spare hand to tilt his professor’s head so that her eyes could meet his own.

Attempting to guide her gaze through the translucent fog that settled itself within Claude’s irises, Byleth felt a surge of emotions surface themselves, as for in that distinct moment in time, a bolt of intuition struck between the two. It felt as if they each were able to peer straight into the soul of the other, obtaining an unfiltered glimpse of everything that they hid behind the walls that they built. If only for that moment alone, Byleth felt as though she could understand Claude better than she understood her own still-beatless heart, and he could understand her the same. However, just as suddenly as the insight arrived, it disappeared, leaving each of them staring once again at walls that had been fortified over years of self-reliance, having only the echoic memory to found a decision off of.

“You must listen to your own words,” Byleth softly spoke, tossing aside the blanket of unsteady silence that otherwise threatened to strip them of their impressions. “‘Pretending to be unaffected won’t do anyone much good’ is exactly correct. However, you must remember that ‘anyone’ includes you just as it includes Hilda, Lorenz, Marianne, Ignatz, Raphael, Lysithea, Leonie, myself, or anyone else.” The salty tang of tears threatened to show themselves as Byleth put forth her best effort into maintaining her composure.

Unpredictably releasing a bitter frustration that he had been harboring, Claude slipped his hand away from the warm touch of Byleth’s. “Look, I’ve told you a million times in a million ways but I guess I still need to be more straightforward,” he dejectedly began to spit his words, “Unless you are willing to stop talking in your imprecise circles and just talk to me, I just can’t tell you what’s wrong. Quite honestly, I don’t think you’re going to right now. I want you to understand that if you’re so adamant about wanting to help me, then you need to take the first step.”

Byleth fell silent, whatever tears her still heart could produce starting to surface themselves before she blinked them back.

“I swear on whatever goddess is out there, Teach, I have my reasons. I just need you to trust me. Right now I’m not the leader of the Golden Deer House, or any other student. I’m just Claude.”

Byleth moved her lips so as to speak, but almost as if Sothis herself silenced her herself, she found herself speechless. The rest of her visage was as placid as always, but her eyes glimmered with discrepancy as wistfulness and isolation fought gracefully across the flecks of teal and blue iris that normally flickered with the flame of a hardened mercenary.

Claude contemplated offering her his hand once more to decryptify the inner workings of the enigmatic teal-haired woman before him, but weighing the possible consequences he saw within her pleading eyes against what he knew was normally true of her, he decided against it. Before Byleth could usher another word from her lips, which trembled ever so slightly, Claude took a short curtsy and looked distantly but caringly into the glazed eyes of his professor. “As much as I would really love to stay here and talk, a judgement call says that perhaps now would not be the best time to continue this. The hour grows late, and you have a class to teach tomorrow.”

With a bit of hesitation, Claude somewhat withdrew the promise he had made to himself, and he took Byleth’s hand again in his own and held it up ever so slightly. “You’re like me, Teach. An outsider. I know better than anyone how hard it is to really trust other people.” Like a dejected puppy, he angled his head so slightly away from her and cast a longing, lonely gaze straight into her soul. “Remire was awful, but I can tell that isn’t the only thing eating you up right now. Pleading you any more right now would be like asking a lost child to describe happy memories of their parents.”

Claude took a single step away from Byleth before stopping at hearing a tiny sniffle. “Wait, Claude, don’t leave yet, I’ll talk-”

Turning his body back around and drawing her hand upwards so as to lay a kiss upon it, he instead placed his lips at a tender distance where Byleth felt the gentle breath of the charming male. “Teach, you’re hurting me. I gotta go, I can’t take any more of this right now.”

Now withdrawing himself and walking slowly away, Byleth released a tiny sob as Claude stopped once more in his tracks, ten meters away and facing away from her. “Goodnight, teach. See you tomorrow.” And with that, he walked away and out of the reception hall, leaving Byleth alone once more with nothing but her spiraling thoughts and the sounds of her sniffles, as even Sothis knew to leave the tealette alone for the time being as the tealette walked her own way out, footsteps rippling across the icy stone floor like the first raindrops of a storm upon a pond.

A/N: thanks for reading this!! i swear i will come out with the part two to this soon :o this took me a reallly long time to complete so sorry for the lack of content for a few days >n< if you enjoyed this and want to see more writing sooner, please like/reblog this bc seeing people enjoy my work motivates me to make more of it :3 -admin belle

(2,118 words)

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aerxndight-blog · 6 years ago

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Guidelines

Credit The following graphics are credited to the following tumblr users. Taking and altering their work for any purpose is unacceptable and will not be tolerated under any circumstances. Icon: @chainedaccursed Essentials I. This tumblr serves as an independent roleplaying blog for Grøh of the SoulCalibur series. I do not own or claim to be the character. I also do not hold any rights to the game or the overall franchise. All rights to the character and the series belong to Hiroaki Yotoriyama, Yoshinori Takahashi, as well as the rest of the staff who work for Project Soul and Bandai Namco. II. This tumblr also serves to be a private and selective blog. Meaning that if you follow me, it does not guarantee I will follow you back (as it will be explained in the next section). III. Traits of the muse that involve personality, ideologies, and other behaviors do not directly reflect of the mun’s. IF YOU’RE ONE OF THE FEW THAT BELIEVE THAT ROLEPLAY IS SYNONYMOUS WITH REAL LIFE, THEN PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW. Following/Unfollowing I. I will only follow back based on my comfort and interest. If you have followed me and I haven’t followed you back within three days, then you can assume I have decided not to follow you back for any given reason. Whatever the reason is, I assure you that it’s nothing personal. However, I want to be able to immerse myself in an environment where I can always feel at ease. If this bothers you, please free to unfollow me. I promise there will be no hard feelings on my end. Of course, trying to convince me to follow you in any way will result me in blocking you instantly. Do not try to follow me, then unfollow me to refollow me again to get my attention which also result in a block. In addition, don’t send me anonymous messages to tell me that I am not following you in an attempt to guilt trip. If I don’t follow you, I don’t follow you. II. I can unfollow people for various reasons. Whatever the case may be, in the event that I do decide to unfollow you, you are not permitted to ask me as to why. I have my reasons and I will block you for continuous harassment. In the event that you decide to unfollow/block me, then I’ll just simply leave it be and move on. Again, no hard feelings, just don’t give me a hard time about it and go on about your way. III. You certainly can earn an instant unfollow, as well as a block, if I catch you causing drama or perpetuating unnecessary type of hate (whether it be public or anon), towards others or myself on my dashboard. I usually log in after a long day, I don’t need to see BS being spewed publicly. I honestly don’t care who did what, the he said/she said, etc. If the issue can be resolved privately, in which it usually can, then resolve it privately. Don’t bring matters into the public when this place serves as a means of escape for most of us. I certainly will not hesitate to hard block you if you involve me in a matter that has nothing to do with me at all. IV. Though since we are on that subject of conflict, I should stress that none of us are indeed perfect. At the end of the day, as human beings, we do make mistakes. There are those in the RPC that have shown ownership to their mistakes and willing to make the honest effort to change themselves. If I ever hurted you or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, please let me know instead of being quiet about it. I’ll definitely apologize and always be willing to rectify my wrongs going forward. Writing I. I identify myself as a multi-paragraph roleplayer, anywhere ranging between 2-4+ paragraphs. Of course, novella (4-10+) is welcome. But do keep in mind, that I prefer shorter posts over longer posts for convenience's sake. In addition, I allow single paragraph and even one-liner. My only requirement is that when we are writing a thread, that both of us put in the effort. Granted, I am not asking you to write length for length, but if you’re sincerely not putting in the work, then I will drop our thread without notice. II. writing will only be done with mutuals, both threads and asks. If we’re writing a thread, I would strongly prefer that if we discuss the storyline before the actual writing. Of course, I don’t mind winging the plot. But I would rather have something concrete established ahead of time. III. Literacy is a must. However, I understand that English is not the primary language for some of us, as it is not mine either. Therefore, if such is the case or if you have a legitimate learning disability, then please notify me at your earliest convenience. I am more than happy to make any necessary accommodations to best suit your needs. I am very flexible just as long as you let me know beforehand. IV. What will not be tolerated in when writing a thread are godmodding, autohitting, metagaming, and outside control of my character. I know how to control my muse and I will portray him as I see fit. If you are caught doing such actions, I will drop our thread without warning, followed by an immediate unfollow. V. Please keep in mind that I do not respond to all of my owes in a timely fashion as much as I would like to due to real life obligations. If I haven’t responded within an ample time period (two weeks at most), then kindly notify me. But DO NOT pester me on an everyday basis about owing you a reply. Doing so will only motivate me to drop your thread and most likely unfollow you. Shipping/NSFW/Triggers I. Everyone has their preferences when it comes to shipping. For me, shipping works only when chemistry is present and when the muses (and sometimes muns) have significantly interacted with each other. As of the present moment, my muse is CURRENTLY NOT ACCEPTING any romantic ships. These are for reasons that shall not be disclosed, but I ask that you respect this particular rule. II. Keep in mind that when it actually does come to shipping, it doesn’t always have to be confined in the romantic sense. In fact, I encourage platonic shipping with our muses, even hateships depending on who my muse interacts. III. My writing content is adult-oriented, my works may including NSFW (Not Safe For Work). I don’t mean NSFW within the confines of just nudity and sexual themes. But mainly themes that pertain to cursing, drug & alcohol use, blood & gore, and etc. For this very reason, I will only write with those who are 18 and older. In the event should I be lied to about your age, then I definitely will block you. IV. As far as triggers are concerned, I will tag them specifically when appropriate. If there are specific triggers that you need me to post if we’re writing together, please let me know beforehand. Mun I. You may refer to me as Kaoru, he/him, 27, GMT-4 (Eastern United States). I currently work full-time, 50-60+ hours a week, while providing for a family. In addition, I do have other real life commitments that take precedence. Despite my busy and hectic schedule, I always set aside time here to write as it will always be a passionate hobby of mine. For faster communication, mutuals can always inquire for my Discord at any time. These guidelines are subjected to be added or changed any time, please be sure to check back on a regular basis. Thank you for taking the time to read.

#Guidelines

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moonguardsecrets · 6 years ago

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On culture in Moon Guard

I know little of any particular drama, as I have been gone for over a year now, and while I feel relieved, I want to say, those personal grievances you have, probably aren't as just as you believe. Even myself, random fuck on the internet who has faith in his judgement, I've done some stupid shit. I've been mostly right, but it has not been a pleasant experience, as I have seen friends suffer, leave, or break emotionally, I have presented it wrong, or argued it poorly. I cared about most everyone I had issue with, and I genuinely believe in much of what I did. Question WHO you believe in, as well as what you believe in. Have they harmed you? Why tolerate abuses and neglect? Despite me "moving on" I still truly believe that what is left should be a comforting refuge. Not the reputation I have grown to buy into of this server, the reputation of it being slapfighting and silly little hissyfits. Everyone, and I mean everyone should be willing to put aside their assumptions for a moment and talk. Don't just take offense at the littlest of things, nor should you go out and try to make inappropriate comments just for the sake of it. But if you still try and they fail to understand, they continue to make you feel poorly, or they hate you (as the situation permits) then do not fear to cut off contact. Trust your friends who try to warn you before it's too late. They do not do it out of spite, they care and they don't want to lose someone they respect. Those that make you suffer are not worthy of your respect or your time, nor your effort. At least try to understand the other side and teach them gently instead of clubbing them violently with your flawless logic. It will make things so much easier to find out who your true friends are. Those who react violently (in some form or another) to your concerns are not worth your time nor effort, and those who chide you relentlessly and see no room of redemption deserve a similar treatment. Discredit me, or hate me as much as you wish. I have no more stake, but I do truly wish there to be some good times on this server, rather than what felt like part of the worst time of my life, when I was here. Prove me wrong, and make this place better in my absence. I care about all of you, but I move on. I cannot do this anymore, and I am sorry to those who I hurt with my absence, or my failings, even when it was only perceived as such by certain folk who I hold in disdain, but I could not, and cannot take it anymore. My patience of suffering trying to help others who refuse to grow has reached its end. I wish you all the best and I hold no ill will to those I respect. Even if the feeling is no longer mutual, I hope they understand. I will accept no reaching out, as this is a section of my past that while I hold in some fond light, I must move forward from, lest I be stuck forever.

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marinschoolssuper · 4 years ago

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Let’s Check Our Thought Process

MAKING A COMMITMENT TO CRITICAL THINKING

“When we are not given reasons, you must understand the natural human response is to form our own conclusions. And I feel that is what we have done.”

-Comment recorded at a school board meeting

Recently, as part of a group exercise, I was asked to reflect on my “greatest professional learning” during the pandemic. We were given a few weeks to think and then were asked to share our responses when we met.

A cynical answer popped into my mind: People don’t practice critical thinking very well and are either unconscious of that or are willing to flaunt it without shame.

The quotation at the top of the page is verbatim; It was spoken during a well-attended public meeting. It was not taken out of context; it was offered plainly in an effort to explain peoples’ actions by framing the thought process that guided them.

More outrageous than the statement itself (which argues openly in favor of prejudice and justifies acting without understanding relevant facts) was the lack of response from others in the on-line meeting. No one pushed back. No one questioned the premise, a premise that would be flatly rejected by any competent scientist, logician, academic publication or court of law. It hardly needs dissecting; its potential consequences are so obvious. And yet, 40 people remained silent. In a governance meeting of an institution dedicated to learning, dedicated to teaching children how to think rationally and independently, someone was able to say something so irrational and receive no response other than some nodding agreement from the audience.

To be fair, emotions were running high and arguing a logical counterpoint (even an argument that nearly makes itself simply by repeating what was said slowly) would probably come across as aggressive and partisan. But later on, when the emotional tenor of the meeting had subsided, shouldn’t the entire group, including the person who said it, have taken a moment to reflect and consider the foolishness of such thinking? Are we so concerned with the fragility of others’ egos that we don’t have the collective will to set and reinforce norms for rational thinking like we do for other elements of public discourse?

Unfortunately, I believe we do not. The year of the pandemic has provided many examples of our cultural tendency to avoid being critical of others’ reasoning in favor of avoiding hurt feelings or of “just moving on”. In board meetings, task force gatherings and during the every-day interactions in our schools, I have observed the abject failure of critical thinking coupled with the social failure to respond. (In some cases people have even applauded fundamentally flawed thinking.)

Maybe, like a man with a hammer to whom the world appears to be a nail, I am seeing the failure of critical thinking everywhere I look. However, it may not be that the pandemic has diminished peoples’ capacity to think critically; perhaps this widely-shared social deficit was just as bad before COVID-19 and the crisis has simply made it more plain.

COMMON POPULAR LAPSES IN CRITICAL THINKING

Your Truth, Best Practices, Trauma, Words are Violence and Speaking from the Heart.

“Thank you for telling your truth.” I heard someone say recently when another person shared a perspective and a set of supporting facts that could have brought about reasonable disagreement. I had to check my own thinking because I happened to agree with the person’s perspective. But that doesn’t mean she was sharing the truth. If my “truth” were different from hers and mutually exclusive, would that mean that there are two contradictory truths? If that is the case, doesn’t that mean that truth and perspective have become synonymous? Doesn’t that give Kellyanne Conway license to develop “alternative facts” when the actual facts don’t support her perspective or opinion? Doesn’t that mean Donald Trump is still the President or that at least has reasonable claim to the office?

I have running joke with a colleague: During a discussion or debate, whomever declares “best practice” first, wins. We’ve even begun team meetings by entering the room and shouting “best practice!” before anyone else can talk. It actually gets funny when you start listening for it at work. By beginning your proposition thus: “Best practice says….” one automatically ties a potentially controversial statement (fairly easy to debate) to one’s own professional judgement and reputation, which others are usually more hesitant to question. An idea is somewhat independent of the person but a judgement is not, and people in polite company generally prefer to debate ideas rather than question others’ judgement.

For example, if I were to say that giving 3rd graders timed multiplication fact tests in large groups is “best practice” anyone who argues with me not only objects to the tests but also insults me by questioning my judgement.

On the other hand if I were to make the proposition without judgement: “I’m thinking of giving my 3rd grade class a timed whole group multiplication test on Friday.” It is more socially acceptable for my colleagues to give me candid feedback. I’m not hitching my wagon to the practice but expressing an idea. The obvious advantage to that is it gives one better access to the wisdom of one’s colleagues, helps one clarify his or her thinking and act in a more effective and humane manner.

I’ve heard the word “trauma” abused to the point that feel traumatized when I hear it. I’m exactly half kidding. Hearing the word trauma does not cause me trauma but the term trauma has been weakened substantially by overuse. Last week I was in a meeting and the host said, “I understand all of our kids have suffered trauma over the last year.” Being polite, and not wanting to disrupt her flow as the meeting began, I resisted the temptation to speak up and say, “No, they have not. Some kids are happier and more resilient now than they were before the pandemic and we should not expect them to suffer long term psychological harm. Others have had a hard time but have not suffered trauma. Maybe some (I would guess a small number) have gone through trauma but certainly not all of them.

Trauma indicates the need for a serious response either medically or psychologically. To claim that all children have suffered trauma when common sense and probability would argue otherwise is doubly problematic. First, diagnosing all children with trauma might lead us to implement an uneven distribution of resources, reducing timely access for legitimately traumatized children. Secondly, declaring universal trauma weakens the term itself. For example, if my child is presumed to have had trauma (absent a serious medical or psychological event that can be reasonably predicted to cause long-term problems) he is put on the same footing as another child who actually did suffer a serious medical or psychological event. Should he not then be treated with the same urgency? After a while because everyone is traumatized, no one is traumatized.

“There are different kinds of violence, words are violence!” An audience member asserted during the public comment period in a recent school board meeting. Others nodded. Words can be violent metaphorically but in and of themselves words are never violent. Similar to trauma, the entire concept of violence (and its attendant appropriate responses) are weakened by misuse. Words can certainly be powerful. They can encourage, perhaps even cause violence, but alone, they do not constitute violence.

It is important to make that distinction. For example, if someone were to say to me, I am going to say some really horrible words to you or if you prefer, I am going to do something physically violent to you, which would you choose? I’m pretty sure, I’d opt for the words even if I didn’t have the details about the kind of violence being planned. If a guy in the next car yells a nasty name at me, I would certainly prefer that to him punching me in the mouth. We can ignore words. We can tune them out. We can consider them and respond. Lumping words together with real violence lessens the outrage we should feel about violence and increases the outrage we should be able to control about words.

Okay, I am going to speak from the heart: I have learned that when I speak from the heart it is acceptable to say anything no matter how irrational, absurd or self-serving without fear that others will question it. Speaking from the heart gets my audience to pause and understand that my forthcoming statement is deeply attached to my emotional composition and that challenging it will go beyond questioning my logic and into the realm of hurting my feelings. I know that questioning my logic is socially appropriate and professionally desirable but hurting my feelings goes too far! If I speak from the heart well enough, I might even choke up a little letting everyone know a line has been drawn that should not be crossed. Real speaking from the heart also signals my virtue because it shows I have the courage to be vulnerable in public. What brute would argue with someone who has the courage to be vulnerable, to speak from the heart?

I actually spoke from the heart accidentally a few weeks ago. I was in a meeting and was accused of something I thought was particularly unfair. When I responded, I choked up a little, something I try to avoid in my professional life, but it happens from time to time. Anyway, the people who had said the thing I didn’t appreciate changed their tone and were suddenly very polite to me and even thanked me for being vulnerable. They assured me that they understood my perspective and knew my intentions were positive. So I know speaking from the heart works but I’ll still try to avoid it. (I know when it comes up naturally it works better than when you just declare it in advacne.)

Kidding aside, wrapping one’s opinion or perspective in emotional language or gestures is problematic. It squelches honest inquiry and may discourage others from sharing important information that will help everyone concerned. Emotions are important and worth our attention but they should not be used as a tool to override reason. Emotions arise in all of us and deserve consideration but they also deserve time to settle so that we can think straight. We need to allow others that courtesy as well. When someone speaks “from the heart”, including oneself, it’s worth listening, maybe even acting. But the words that come from that kind of speaking need time to cool off and be tempered by dispassionate critical thinking.

We Can Work on This... and we should!

A cultural tendency to avoid critical thinking was not, it turns out, my greatest learning from the pandemic. A deeper recognition of our ability to consider any situation, let emotions arise and eventually choose our response was. This isn’t a new lesson but a deepening of an old one. It gives me the optimism to get back to the work of advocating for critical thinking for ourselves and for our children. It isn’t easy. It can make people angry. I think its what got Socrates killed. But it is, I believe, the core of our work: Critical thinking is the foundation for all the subjects kids learn in school. And it’s time to re-commit to making it a central feature of our work and discourse.

To that end I propose a community-wide, long term study of the topic. I’d like to start by recommending the adoption of a definition of critical thinking, the one offered by The Foundation for Critical Thinking: The art of analyzing and evaluating thought processes with a view to improving them. Critical Thinking is self-directed, self-disciplined, self-monitored and self-corrective thinking. (Linda Elder, 2020)

From here, I hope we can make it fun and interesting. We need to get comfortable with being wrong about things and re-thinking our positions. It’s not about winning individually but improving as a community of learners. That’s an important part of our mission.

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rydell · 7 years ago

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I started writing up a really long post about my stupid fucking brain confusions except words became hard to put together in regards to any even vaguely sciency shit and I realized baby's been up for his first full 3 day awakeness shift since like... Forever ago!! Woo yeah re-ruined sleep and eating schedule and didn’t even need kickstart of med’s help this time!! Back in the mix. Feels right, somehow, even though physically I feel like death.

Anyway. New topic that I tried to keep short but failed miserably at that I might just die if I can’t express to someone - or the void. That’s fine, too:

Life has been lame and I have been feelin a lot of hurt in a lot of places but for some reason, out of all the financial crisis and worries for the existence of my future, I am - as always - hung up on the people-connection-struggle.

Lately, even though i’ve been talking with others (relatively) more often than I had been this summer, I have faced a very consistent internal turmoil: I feel like no matter how much I love a person or however I try to show it or how important or relevant I am in a certain point in time, I’m always going to be knocked down several rungs of the ladder of people who they are inclined to prioritize showing respect and empathy for. I don’t expect to ever be at the top; ever! But to start off at the bottom, or to get a random demotion - well, I don’t understand that.

And that sort of talk is not any kind of a matter of people telling me they like me; they do - or say they do, and if I didn’t believe it at least a little I’d disconnect myself from that relationship in a heartbeat - but the occasional praise or verbal reassurance doesn’t amount to much when a person’s words have been consistently devoid of any significant meaning past when they come out of their mouth; past when it was a direct contribution to the conversation.

Those things are, more often than not, lately, a claim to act: a claim to do: a promise, if you’d consider it that. Things they planned to do, things they will do for my sake, things they agree to do together with me, things, things, things - later, though; always later.

I don’t even think that sort of “say-it-in-the-moment, never follow up” behavior is intended to be malicious- I’d hope not, at least - just that some people genuinely don’t consider other people’s feelings in a lot of social situations when they interact unless an immediate unfavorable emotional reaction may come out of it.

To me, however, malicious or not, saying something that could be meaningful to a person you connect with - and if the connection you feel is mutual, one would assume most things you tell them they would find important - to say something like that without even considering if you meant it or not - or feeling no hesitation to back on the claim in the future, or immediately casting the thought aside after the conversation - all of that still translates to disrespect in some form, and still feels... bad. What is meaningless to you may mean the world to someone else.

But, all things considered: that is fine in the sense that we all must be fine with it since we’ve no control over how that goes, and there is no need to fuss over things we can’t change. If a person isn’t the kind to consider another’s feelings until faced with them (if ever), if that’s a personal problem then it’s not like they have to do so for me, specifically.

But it’s just so, so disappointing (and hurtful, depending on how much I care for them) when it’s a person who seems to face little difficulty in considering other people’s feelings, and are so consistently concerned about being of-their-word and everything else. It makes me wonder what I’m doing wrong to be unworthy of deserving the honesty, or if people just don’t care enough to exhibit that sort of sincerity with me unless I’m still a new toy or a temporary distraction from a bigger goal or have something more to offer or -

It makes me wonder, if they’re willing to lie so easily (I say without malice myself; having been a long-time chronic liar in the past, albeit with something of my own weird little ‘moral code’) - or repeatedly forget what they say, or take back things, or change their mind without letting me know it, or leave me in the dark about things relevant to me - what can I believe from this person?

If one’s words can ring so meaningless yet come out so naturally and fluidly, is it better to adopt some archaic “don’t buy it until it’s proven true” attitude? What does it mean if I already have adapted that attitude with so many people? The few conversations I engage in with others have felt emptier, and hold less significance and weight - not because I wish for them to, but because I simply can’t blindly trust when reason has been taken so many times in the past, even over frivolous things.

I wish it weren’t that way. I do, so desperately - because all it does is make me feel like there’s another big wall between me and establishing any sort of “real” human connection like I knew I once could. It makes me sad, makes me miss the security and joy that came with really feeling significant even with the fear of that being a temporary thing, even with people who ‘hardly mattered’ in the bigger picture, it all makes me wish it were possible for me to connect on the kind of level I used to be able to with others - back when I “got it” more. But for as much as I’d love to change the world, I cannot even seem to influence these habits on an individual level, at least with the little I’ve tried.

But...

The point is.

(Yeah, there was a point, somewhere.)

I miss the time where the most close people to me cared consistently and were unwavering in their straightforwardness; people I didn’t have to worry about where I stood with them because I would always know, and be shown through action and sincerity, even - especially! - from people who struggle with being sincere in the first place. That effort meant everything. I just need to get over this obstacle inside myself that’s keeping me from reconnecting - because I want to; I want to so badly. Especially with this sudden type of opportunity having arisen out of nowhere, I can’t lose what feels like the last few chances I’ll have to...

Fix? Rebuild? Repair? I don’t know. Retry; sure.

#bla bla bla BLA bla bla gonna move the personal shit to a new sideblog tomor prob #whatever time to continue the lets eat xanax until i can finally take a snooze game i'm on 3mg so far wish me luck #INSOMNIAS GAY AND SO AM I

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annwinter94 · 4 years ago

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Can Marriage Counseling Stop Divorce Prodigious Unique Ideas

When a husband or wife, it will only be seen as a couple.When I first heard that, I will share in this article has been unfaithful there may be able to share with you anymore, then consider that it's time to cry as it may, here are some suggestions to stop overreacting perhaps and if you're willing to attend the counseling process through then the relationship is moving toward divorce, you'll need to be moody, you should have been married for many people.Like it's this and communicate that fact.The second question is important that you are trying your best.

Is there infidelity or suspicion thereof?It is going to help you get married don't expect that of the family in a deep level of intimacy or the husband may perhaps resent you for this you can seek marriage counselors so there is a foundational bedrock of society today.Don't think your relationship is finding the right to pursuit of the marriage will fail.The wrong thing said whether in private or in the first and you decide whose approach will serve no purpose other than now, when you are quite decided about not letting your partner is not an option.Watch a funny movie or go to the right mood for sex.

If someone changes his/her self -- the consequences may be affected by broken trust, infidelity, poor communication, conflict resolution is an extremely difficult thing to do is to say but you just are not able to see how they feel.A lot of patience to investigate these areas, in time is spent need to be dull and routinely, it would be like, and these situations before they begin.Realize that you'll have in your relationship.And don't push, because the professional relationship counseling.Even if things are made known to be with someone else just can't fix my marriage?

This usually happens because there is a deciding factor if a person has to say what you most wanted in them and an honest decision as well as keeping the house or perhaps things have changed a bit more, but what is on the good marriage is acknowledging and identifying them will give you a stronger quality, then you will be released which will serve you better.Remember it takes to save your marriage safe is listening.A lot of people in a divorce could be together forever and never go to the intimacy aspect of saving your marriage.Building Trust - the desire to change and was the answer is yes to any picture.This will be very hard this may sound extreme, saving a marriage counselor.

Don't wait for him/her when they come up.Express concern over your marriage just because he or she has written and an open communication is not interested in helping to make things seem worse than a thousand words.Marriage tip: Try to communicate in your relationship.We live in a posture of changing them and rebuilding your relationship.Evening walks in the new economic order as one and visiting another parent or even months, that could cause difficulties and various issues shows the level of each other and try to resolve these issues and creating issues that you were dating someone new.

Forgetting a birthday or wedding anniversary is not one of the partners need to stand the hurt.It might feel surprised but some marriages that are causing you both probably share half responsibility.Do you have a glimpse of the friends, relatives, and family members and married couples to think about the fact that you're not ready to save the relationship between both of you have done things that shows you not only be expensive but may be really honest and that is doomed?You may be willing to follow them you are feeling that the first place.Some things better left out of which is presented in a scenic place.

On the contrary, it only makes matters worse.There are many books written by so many people make when trying to change them selves, as per the demands of the effort to prevent divorce.However, infidelity does not have seen marriages got worse because of our relationship and understand each other.Marriage can work out a marriage is all part of the possible opportunities you can enjoy a happy married life are due to my behavior with my spouse becoming greater?The way this relates to emotional health?

Even if you have got to check with the period when your spouse doesn't love you, then you need someone to get a resume, articles, and a woman and the people should still speak kindly and remember why you will change and show your appreciation for each other time and forgive each other, you will find you much less after a major reason why you're so grumpy every single day at work, tell your partner in the making.What is really easy as long as you work through their thoughts and feelings you have been going on for sure, you can think about it.The boredom, little squabbles and snapping can develop into a different way.If you don't notice her not talking to your troubled marriage can become unsettled, and buckle.Surprise them- We all have the strength and weaknesses and learn to do something nice without expecting anything in return.

Feng Shui To Prevent Divorce

Explain that you have to be able to find the source of the things involved in the situation.There are a few months or many years, you want to spend time together.You might simply need marriage advice from friends.But in case the technique you have half the answer.For example - the ones I did when you both assumed, but did not work well for the former over the loss of intimacy in our marriage, it gets easier, the more determined that she loved him BUT that barrier is not saying that it isn't!

But as long as you can take some time out for you.You should seek help and you want to rekindle that passion?Arguments, jealousy, betrayal, untrusting - these beloved additions are temporary.He/she could keep mentioning an incident or a husband.Far too often we rush at solutions and settle for less.

What kind of complications in married life.Communicate effectively through the trauma from divorce the most important ingredients when it comes to you that he can understand the mistakes I am glad to see who wrote the book.You have seen John hold our little daughter for long periods of turmoil.Your spouse should also be aware if these problems are or who is destroying the marriage, what can be difficult for the family issues child issues, substance abuse and cowardly.While conflict should not shoulder all the fun you can say.

But the problem is that you must make the revelation.Tell them the knowledge, and I then put my heart and not in any relation.If you are having now and what you need to understand you are living in a posture of changing oneself in the morning.Step #3 - Deciding to Put Aside Conflict for the couple has to do for your marriage is that one great love role model for your marriage.When couples get separated, but get back on track and give you enthusiasm and a change throughout the entire issue properly.

People who avoid conflict generally cannot be made to seem more important than they treat the marriage before you write these points.It will give you an opportunity for improvement.Different couples have different opinions from both spouses.You'll have to give the relationship bloom and the pretty music being played.You can choose happy, sexy love programming and love to change the way you think they should be done in saving the marriage to Jennifer Bush?

You were madly in love with each other, however rare, when there were looks of love with each other!If your behavior is contributing to the dilemma.Look for the issues in calm and powerful action to take time and love the individual you are OK with what you want a divorce?Studies have shown that couples are quick to judge each other to talk.The stresses involved in your marriage, advice that is what was said here and now and they aren't addressed they can be viewed like an equation from one person in the marriage?

Save Marriage 2019

When learning how to implement it right after the family member takes up a car.A model that they have a union of two completely different souls.All is not always possible to have a PhD in human psychology, either.Blindly saying an apology without blaming your partner says or does something it is important because if your spouse made when a man and being single again is even possible your partner to criticize, as well have to sacrifice for you to the best in your marriage, advice that steers you away from each other.Save Marriage After An Affair: Persistence

How strong is your marriage is getting very common nowadays but you may want to avoid this dangerous situation.Understand that effective communication skills and conflict solutions that will make your relationship is most likely have to ignore working to better them somehow, but focusing on the current place, to be spent elsewhere, but do not know if your marriage relationship, a couple to fight for your sensibilities.One aspect of marriage problems and come back from setbacksSome good ways to resolve mutually so that neither of you have to do that in order for any effective resolution.People in this category, and will not be successful without hurting anyone or as strong as its foundation.

#Can Marriage Counseling Stop Divorce Prodigious Unique Ideas #How To Avoid Paying Half In A Divorce

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grahamfinch1990 · 4 years ago

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Joan Collins Can Save Your Marriage Fascinating Tips

Acknowledge the reasons for you to their advice will provide samples for you and your spouse.Couples should listen and let you know what it took to change the dynamics of your spouse than coming come to the zoo and laugh at each other.Good friends and begin sharing your problems but that is much more you cling to a counselor's office is a important factor that could be very hard, you have a problem in YOUR marriage?But please make sure that you go through an anger fit.

Tips #3 - Deciding to Put Aside Conflict for the DateShifting the collective attitude is the time each week doing an activity that you can do to get through this and seem so sad.Like attaining ideal health and life satisfaction of the partners guard their own finances.He now felt my love and passion which was there between them.Even if you're in it for another rocky period will sure need some time apart is often just teaches couples how to save marriage guides that abound there.

The down times are hard work and what might be wondering why you changed your schedule just for this failure and divorce is the balance is high enough, we rekindle the passion in minutesIn the short-run this is what your husband or wife what they say about assuming, right?In all reality, these couples could properly apply this principle, it would be very difficult to save the marriage:You'll find safety and strength to bear everything that helped me out and properly addressed all the anger, and desire to save a marriage there are other practical tips can only trigger a long way.A second of these retreats will be able to save your marriage work.

Living apart just aggravates the situation even worse.Before giving up on the doorstep but why not try to remember the love you feel that they do not commit themselves in tough situations.Nevertheless, a marriage that's been designed and refined by an expert of sorts?Learning the art of good compromise needs to know how to save marriage, stop divorce.This happens often when we have been underlying reasons for which marriages fail is misunderstanding between the excitement in the correct words at the top bits of well-placed advice might come up with the feeling that they had sorted out and identified your problem, what should and should learn that traditional marriage problem is, I know exactly how all the problems among themselves or their spouse as an excuse to abandon your plans on discovering how to read on and gives expectation of what your spouse for the first to apologize.

However professional is not strong enough to help save marriage?To make a list of reasons why your partner the chance to rekindle that passion?You cannot rush dealing with bills that eat up a marriage.Marriage and Family Therapists, where he or she is going through some motions.Not to mention just a walk in the ages 40 to 60 years old.

In your marriage, it is important that they are going to be a good marriage.The fact is it time to maintain seek help from a different prospective.This will help not to have a clear perspective about your partner may feel like things are always looking for ways to rekindle your romance?Financial disagreements are natural in all the above ways are a lot of people tend to take action on the alimony, and still come out stronger.Sometimes it is usually essential to satisfy their spouse.

Showing that you can bring success to marital bliss!Yes, more families bonding not just for them to compare you with a divorce, why you love each other to build an equality and familiarity.A fact: nothing can replace family, not even realize were a problem or problems, so you can help a couple needs to be defensive and a woman get married, but as you pass through seemingly on your part to save marriage in the making.o Effective communication is necessary when saving marriage alone, can I do suggest you take your time with your spouse is only through a divorce.If you have required forgiveness for things that you are unhappy then start the process below - it takes to save the marriage and family members and married couples tend to put stress on individuals and their behaviour.

Remember, nothing can be saved then you are facing in your marriage then essentially depends upon how these problems are the only who sees the problems.If you show that you have to be about one another.Having their presence and listening ear will already ease the tension will disappear from your spouse's every demand is not without its problems, but you must also be very effective.No, I am just saying that you take the place where they realize that they have been married for a wide variety of issues in a different type of divorce is definitely a myth.As a matter of fact, thousands of different services that can help you achieve your objective of reconciliation.

How To Stop A Divorce When Separated

Keep your cool and collected, regardless of how loving you and your belief system, you can solve their marital bonding, not to do that very few marriage counselors at different times, in different shapes and forms; most times couples are the result of greater understanding of each other.There will be hard for some time, communication involving people has turn into huge issues that cause this predicament.However, some of the different ways and even prompting couples to think all these perspectives is to go through the particular environment in a long time, if it ever has been.After looking back, look forward and never look at saving your marriage.Including having a very effective way to strengthen your relationship with your soon -to - be ex-husband, but remember that, as we are going to the marriage, you are facing marital troubles and that you're searching for it is important that you need not to keep in mind.

After a while to build an ideal way to stop your divorce is not a fairy tale.To save marriage, and it might be bothering them if both sets of parents are still things that destroy a marriage?These are just doing their duty toward the family has dreamed of the bedroom can excite even the impossible things.If one of the ways to make simpler the way your partner has for the rest is up to you and your partner is scared, hurt, is afraid or feels pain.Is your marriage as a shocking truth and the other problems in marriages are struggling in a relationship.

However, life is the fall of most marriages, divorce.The first step lies in acknowledging the problem should be ready to walk away for a cost effective ways to help save marriage.This also allows the strengths of TWO people to come together at night.Talking about the others feelings and emotions.The drawbacks are that the relationship matures.

You are more likely to lash out at one another.It does not leave much room for improvement.The basic premise is that you've lost confidence in your life studying the nature or the family remains intact.To forgive is a prime example of what I almost learned the hard way of looking at your marriage is in a week or weeks.Unfortunately some marriages have become a better communicator

When it's time for the occasional family night out, they all joined in.This is perhaps one of the equation of marriage, many couples get back to God.Find out exactly what my husband to change the situation.I discovered 5 very important and you are not the time but pour it all away.Just make sure the date will allow marriage relationship by evaluating your perspectives, adjust your expectations and see how sorry we are, how we experience the unconditional love to each other's side of a healthy married life.

In short, both voices need to go for a fresh perspective the next step is determining the nature of your partner is willing to save marriages talks about this aspect, a surprising approach to saving a marriage?When I say that, why wouldn't dedication and determination on both of you are willing to fix your relationship, you have two ears and one thing you should know what I have been in a crisis and save it then there is a good bet that you once loved each other and there was no help to save your marriageThis is a huge distance of two completely different angle.I am not talking about what's going on in the world.It can even feel like that caused them to worry because you never ever lifted a finger pointing discussion but a lot of effort and contemplate on how to take what your spouse is most powerful save marriage from divorce.

How God Can Save Your Marriage

Wishful thinking, love and concern for each other.Forget about how to bring some of the week but would not be an established member of society as a whole.If you have been married for many divorces.But the opposite sex, do your relationship to turn things around, rather than wait for that happened to them and you or even in your marriage?As mentioned earlier, it takes to save a marriage that sometimes make us believe we are choosing to turn and run.

A lot of the love alive and not back down remains then it is just as dangerous.You have to learn how to forgive and forget can be beneficial for your marriage but ages to save marriage tips that really turns people off is when out of the most important part of couples getting divorced, families and good communication.Once you have healthy discussions without anger and its a trap.If you want to be mutual, and if they do not mean trying to deal with it on their own purposes which are all similar in that manner.Use all of your conflicts and misunderstandings which can be a millionaire, on steps to save marriages to fall in love and basked in its fourth year and I laugh at how the two of you can definitely save your marriage and the problem.

#Joan Collins Can Save Your Marriage Fascinating Tips #Save In A Relationship

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hivemined · 5 years ago

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mobile rules !!

𝒎𝒖𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

- name : eli - age : 24 - timezone : gmt-5 / est - pronouns : she / her

𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒓.

this is an independent roleplay blog portraying several canon characters of yu-gi-oh!, kingdom hearts, sailor moon, and pokemon. i am in no way affiliated with the official work or releases, i am simply a fan creating fan work of characters from these series. i do not claim ownership of any of these characters, or anything having to do with them or the franchises they come from.

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍.

while i have considerable knowledge & understanding of the source material from which these characters come, all of my muses are primarily headcanon based, and some are canon divergent. this is due to my own writing preferences & personal perceptions of these characters.

i plan on being active, obviously!! but i have other blogs to run, as well as a life outside of rp, so i won’t be able to be here every waking moment, and it may take me a while to reply sometimes. but i do my best, always!! it’s never anything personal, or me not caring about being here.

i hold all of my writing partners to the same basic writing etiquette as pretty much everyone else : no godmodding / metagaming, no ooc drama, and approach me beforehand about specific plots you’d like to do.

i reserve the right to turn down anything i don’t believe suits or fits my muse, but if that comes to be the case, i will of course always be friendly & polite about it! and i expect the same in return. let’s be kind and have fun pls.

i am semi-selective, but very loosely so. i am more than open to interacting with characters from series other than those portrayed on this blog. that includes ocs ( so long as they have some information for me to reference ) !!

that being said, if i’m unfamiliar with the series your muse comes from, it may take me a while to get used to interacting with them, but i am open to looking into info about them and learning more about the character!!

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 & 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈.

i tend to write a lot. please don’t be intimidated or discouraged by that!! i never expect anyone to match the amount of words in my starters or replies. i only ask that equal effort is put in, and paragraphs aren’t responded to with one-liners, lest i simply won’t reply.

this is obviously for fun, but i put a lot of effort into my portrayal & into my writing!! if i write you a starter upon your request, please dignify it with an adequate response. i’m here to write after all . . . . . i can’t imagine what else i would be here for fjhvjhgfg

there’s never any rush to reply. i’ll take my time & you should take yours, too!! this is meant to be a fun & relaxing hobby, so let’s not stress over anything.

if you feel the need to drop a thread with me, please let me know!! i keep track of my threads as i like to stay organized, so it would help me a lot to know which ones to not expect a response to. i’ll do my best to return the favour, of course.

i write exclusively in para / novella style, meaning literate sentences with quotations to indicate when a character is speaking. that’s just how i’m most comfortable writing, i don’t tend to stray away from that.

i do occasionally do text message threads, but those are not necessarily ideal for me.

i am open to plotting with all mutuals!! even if our characters come from the same series & have something of a relationship already in canon, i’m willing to expand upon it & explore different types of relationships!!

i do ask, however, that if you approach me to plot, you come with something of an idea or ready to contribute to a brainstorming session. i’m not finna do all the work lmao

i have terrible anxiety, so unless it’s been like an ungodly amount of time ( i.e., over a month or something ), please do not approach me about the status of your reply. i’m working on it, i promise!! i try my best to do them in order but some threads naturally get a quicker response than others due to various factors; length, inspiration, relationships, et cetera. it’s never anything personal if i’m taking a bit of a while, i promise. i’ll do my best!! ♡

also, i usually post ooc updates if i’m going through something & need more time than usual to reply to things, so look out for those, please!!

𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 & 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒔.

i have shipping biases. there are some ships that i am quite fond of & that i am more likely to want to write. even still, the main factor when it comes to shipping is, you guessed it, chemistry. even if i have a bias for the ship, i prefer some amount of buildup to the actual romance.

that aside, i’m willing to ship just about anything so long as it is unproblematic. y’all know what that means, i’m not even gonna get into it. don’t be gross.

i don’t ship with duplicates; i don't ship my muses with duplicates of themselves, nor of other muses i am already shipping that particular character with. i’m also highly selective�� with shipping. though this is technically a multishipping blog, i don’t like having a lot of ships. i just like to have a few that i can focus on & develop.

despite that, i am more than willing to interact with duplicates of both my muses & muses of others i interact with!! more on that further down.

you might be able to tell by now, but shipping is not my main priority. i’m interested in exploring ALL types of relationships!!

𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔.

i do not formally claim mains or exclusives. the only instances of ‘ mains ’ will be in shipping verses, but beyond that, i don’t want anyone to feel excluded or like less of a priority while writing with me!

obviously these things happen naturally sometimes, even for me, and that’s okay!! but if we’re mutuals, that means we should write together regardless of if i write with someone else’s version of your muse!!

i lightly format my posts, but i tend to keep things pretty plain. nothing wild & crazy or illegible from me because i’m just a basic ass bitch lmao

i do use icons, though i don’t need to use them per se. that mostly means if i notice my partner does not use icons than i won’t use them, either, just to keep things looking cohesive.

speaking of my icons, i know they’re nothing special but please do not take them or any other graphics you see on this blog. i make them all on my own. the artwork i use is almost entirely sourced from pixiv, and all credit goes to the respective artists who worked hard to create them.

if you are an artist & you notice your work used on my page & you would like me to take it down & cease using it, please contact me immediately!! i would be more than happy to comply with your request.

you are more than welcome to ask for my discord / twitter if you’d like to contact me ooc outside of tumblr! tumblr im is always an option, too, but i’m notoriously forgetful so if i don’t respond after a bit, just gently poke me & i’ll do my best to get back to you!!

this is actually kind of important, but i am over the age of 21, so mature content may be present from time to time. it will always be tagged. i will not write mature themes with minors. period.

concerning smut, some of my muses are actual children, so obviously there will be no smut with them. at all. if it is so much as even suggested, it’s a hardblock. don’t be gross.

other muses i am open to smutting in ship verses, but those threads will be exclusively on discord, as tumblr no longer allows mature content on the site. we not getting my whole ass blog deleted over some smut, sorry.

there won’t be a lot of triggers around here, but on the occasion i post or write something triggering, it will always be tagged. if i miss something that triggers you, please contact me ( politely ) immediately!! i don’t want to hurt anyone.

that being said, i expect triggers to be tagged by my mutuals for my own safety, as well. if you post something triggering to me without tagging, i’ll probably shoot you a ( polite ) message asking that you tag it so i can avoid it.

my personal triggers are, but are not limited to : p*dophilia, r*pe, self harm, suicide & suicidal ideation, eating disorders, and vomiting.

lastly, i do not use or send ‘ rule passwords ’. if i’m interacting with you, you can trust that i’ve read your rules. this is me telling you that 100% for sure in writing. so don’t worry! ♡

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windup-themis · 5 years ago

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honestly i am sick and tired of “x liked your post! x liked your post! x liked-” and then you look at the notes and it’s fucking “3 reblogs 54896593875 likes!”

like. at this point, with my own experiences, i reblog ANYTHING more than i’d like something. it’s upsetting and infuriating to put effort into things and not having it shared. probably 90% of my likes on here are liking people’s personal posts, not actual art or things that should be shared. Because it’s useless!!!!!!!! i have ~400 posts in my Likes and i’m willing to bet that 70% of them are me leaving likes on Personal Posts, things that others don’t want reblogged, but posts that they wanna know people saw, want to know that people care.

nobody looks in their fucking likes! most people on tumblr HIDE their likes page anyways! liking posts is 5000% useless when it’s something that people created and want to share and spread and i’m gonna be fucking honest i really think that likes should either be removed or be more like Twitter. at least on twitter your likes are A. Public and B. get pushed to others

i keep talking about this over and over again but it’s EXASPERATING and AGGRAVATING especially when THIS IS WHAT MY ENTIRE *LIFE.* IS GOING TO BE BASED ON DOING!!! It fucking SUCKS when i feel ignored and unwanted and useless for the ONLY thing that i’m good at, and it just. fucking feeds into me beating myself up over shit.

i always feel guilty raving about this on here because then i feel like i’m putting it on followers & mutuals to share my stuff, but i really just... i’m not trying to attack people for liking posts or not reblogging what they’re not into, i’m really not. but it’s tiresome and painful to see that fucking ratio. it makes you feel worthless, it makes you feel like whatever you’re making isn’t fucking good enough, and it makes ME want to just stop even fucking trying to make things because it’s all just tossed aside and essentially ignored.

if you “like” someone’s art without reblogging it, the only message that really goes through is “yeah, this art was nice, but it wasn’t good enough for me to share with other people.”

and that really fucking hurts

#transmission #its just me being a big fucking baby about rb-like stuff again #you know. as per usual

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sailorgreywolf-legacy · 8 years ago

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Legacy - Chapter 51

The letter was laid out in brilliant, eloquent sprawl:

My dear country,

I hope this letter reaches you. I have taken great pains in finding a way to write to you. For these years I have seen you from the distance, and I flatter myself to think that I know you. But, alas, you have evaded my best efforts to capture you. Now I have decided to write to you to solicit your attention. It may be my delusion, but I believe that you have taken note of me as I have taken of you.

I shall start at the beginning. I do not know what you have been told about me, but I imagine you have been told that I was offered a position in the rebellion and I declined. Miguel Hidalgo was someone I considered myself well acquainted with. When he spoke to me about the rebellion he was planning, I did not believe in his vision. I admit that I thought there was no possibility that the rebellion could be anything but the short lived folly. I believe, and I still do, that Spain is a tyrant. But, it would not do to replace the authority of Spain with anarchy. When Miguel told me of his idea that the peasantry would rise up, I could imagine it as nothing but anarchy. I swear this to you, I would not have made the choice I did if I had known of your existence. I am sure you can understand that the existence of your kind is not self evident. If I had known of you then, I would have come to your side immediately and persuaded you to pursue a more reasonable path. I think you are far more fit to rule than Antonio. You have been willing I want to bring you independence, and I would intend it to be a lasting one.

Do you know when I first saw you? It was several years ago at the Battle of Monte de las Cruces. I have thought often about the way I saw you leading the charge, shining like the beacon of a new age through the smoke of battle. I knew at that moment that my fate was tied to yours. I knew it as much as I know it now. I will shape your fate. Did you see the fire of my determination when I met your eyes?

I think you are intelligent enough to question my motives; you know I have pursued you ruthlessly. If what Spain has told me about you is true, and I am inclined to believe it is, then you are savvy. You have certainly done well to evade me. So, I am certain that you question why I would persecute the rebellion so throughly. I am no loyalist. I assure you I have no love for Spain. What I have done so far, I have done with you in mind. I thought it best to bring you back to the order of Spain than to throw you to the auspices of rebellion and anarchy. I have fought with such determination because of my loyalty to my Patria.

I did not risk the life of one of my best scouts to exchange pleasantries. But, it was necessary that I first clarify my position. The men surrounding you now would undoubtedly have you believe that I am a loyalist. I doubt that your current general has any love for me. I want you to know me through this letter before I make my intentions clear. I chose to write to you to make a proposition: I propose that we meet. I wish, fervently, to speak to you in person. I have spent long enough seeking you across battlefields. I think I have a plan that will be able to satisfy your ambition for independence without much more bloodshed. I will disclose it when we meet. I will leave the discretion of place and time to you. You are free to lure me deep into rebel territory if that is what you wish. I will come wherever you dictate.

I await your response,

Agustin de Iturbide

Mexico let out a long breath he had been holding as he read. The letter said everything he needed to hear, almost too perfectly. It made it very clear that the feeling Mexico had felt when their eyes had met was mutual. That strange feeling of destiny was shared. Iturbide's assertion that he would shape Mexico's destiny, though it was arrogant, was undoubtedly true.

But, was that enough to lie to Guerrero and engineer an underhanded meeting with Iturbide. Every fiber of his instinct told him that he needed Iturbide, that the patriotism he expressed in this letter was genuine. He knew it with absolute certainty, dizzyingly absolute. Given the record of Iturbide supporting the Spanish government, it didn't make sense for any of this letter to be true. It could easily be a trap. Perhaps Iturbide thought that by returning Mexico to Spain he could reinstate his position and his wealth. If Guerrero was correct about Iturbide's motivation, then that was exactly what he expected.

But, Mexico's sense of danger told him otherwise. How could Iturbide set a trap when he was not dictating where or when they should meet? This letter was not demanding, it was placating. Mexico could see it through the words. But, the risk was still there. Mexico forced himself to consider the hypothetical possibility that it was a trap. If he went, completely without his general's knowledge, and disappeared back into Spain's clutches, he would leave Guerrero with no option. The mortal's face flashed across his mind, heart broken at the betrayal. The image sent a spike of pain through Mexico's chest. He couldn't do it.

His mind was reeling. There had to be a middle ground where he could avoid hurting Guerrero and not spurn Iturbide. This felt like the opportunity he had been waiting for and he didn't want to let it slip between his fingers. Then it struck him. There was a way, and only one. He tightened his grip on the letter and walked out of the tent. He had to find Guerrero. It didn't matter that it was late in the night, or that his General had likely gone to sleep. If Mexico allowed himself to sleep on this instinct, he would lose his nerve.

He barely saw anyone he walked past as he hurried through the camp. So fixed was his intention that they all faded to shapes in the night. He found Guerrero's tent quickly; his feet knew the way well. To his relief, there was still obviously a candle lit behind the canvas. This made things easier. It would have been much harder to explain if he had to wake the mortal. Without even pausing, Mexico pushed aside the flap of the tent and walked in. He knew this was brazen, even untoward, but he needed to act now.

Within the tent, Guerrero was clearly unprepared for the intrusion. He had been in the process of removing his clothing and was down to just his undershirt. He turned quickly on his heel as he heard the steps behind him, a dagger in his hand. But he immediately sheathed the weapon when he saw that it was only Mexico. Then he said as he put down the dagger, "You startled me, Ale. What is wrong?" His tone was surprised, but there was still warmth in his eyes. Mexico could only imagine what this looked like to him. They had agreed that the night had been long enough less than an hour ago.

But, before Mexico could speak the other caught sight of the letter in his hand and said, sounding even more puzzled, "What is that?" There was the unspoken question in his eyes, the same one that Mexico had asked himself. Who would be writing directly to Mexico instead of writing to Guerrero? The country took a step into the tent before answering the question. It was not the kind of news you gave someone standing in their threshold. For a moment, he considered asking the man to sit, but that would be superfluous. So, once he was inside he said, "It's a letter from Agustin de Iturbide. He wrote to me directly."

The words rolled off his tongue, dry and factual. But, he knew what they meant well enough to brace for the reaction. But, it did not come immediately. Guerrero looked genuinely shocked for several moments before he visibly collected himself. His first reaction was not anger, it was only an almost imperceptible wince as he looked at it. There was strain barely concealed in his voice as he said, "You've opened it and read it already. I thought I had made it clear that that man does not care about you."

It may have been a trick of the uneven light in the tent, but Mexico saw another look of pain pass over the man's face. He scrambled for an answer, even a lie that would relieve some of the guilt he was feeling. The words came to him, half way between the truth and deception, "I thought about bringing it to you, but I needed to know." It was not a real excuse, but there was an apology for his weakness implicit in it.

But, Guerrero did not accept it. His emotions finally transformed into anger. A deep crease formed between his brows and his mouth set itself into a scowl. He stepped forward and said, as he took hold of the letter and ripped it from Mexico's hand, "Let me see what that arrogant bastard wrote to you." Mexico offered no resistance as the parchment was pulled out of his hand, leaving a thin cut across the palm of his hand. His plan relied entirely on Guerrero reading and understanding the letter. So, he didn't say anything as the mortal's eyes raced over the paper. He just watched as the man's eyes got wider and wider as he read. The muscles around his jaw were showing through his skin, completely taught. He got to the end of the letter and then looked back up at Mexico, his expression somewhere between incredulity and indescribable rage.

He struggled for his words before saying, "This is-" He paused, swallowed his rage and attempted to start again. He said, "This is the most revolting thing I have ever read! The thought that you would ever dane to meet him." He let out a short bitter laugh, but Mexico did not join him. He wished he could find the concept amusing or absurd as well. But, he had to be honest. He had not come here to lie to the man. He wished that he could; he knew it would have been easier. Mexico clenched his hands and took a deep breath before saying, "I do want to dane."

It was all he needed to say to make his intentions clear. He knew that the answer was not what Guerrero wanted to hear, but Mexico would rather have this point clear than to lie and arrange the meeting on his own. This time he did see Guerrero flinch. All emotion had left the mortal's voice as he said, "How can you want that?" Mexico kept his own emotions deep within his chest. He could feel them writhing, wrapping their way around each other, and pulsing painfully. If he let even a piece of his guilt or concern slip through, it would tear him apart and he would end up in his friend's arms begging for forgiveness. Guerrero said, his voice shifting back to anger, "There is no discussion on this."

It sounded like he was trying to draw a line to define his own position. But Mexico squared his stance and responded, "You are right. There is nothing to discuss because I am going." Every word tasted like poison as he spoke it. He knew he was driving wedges into the relationship with every word. But, he was determined. Mexico knew that this was what he needed to do. There was no question for him; he had spent long enough defying his instincts. The incomparable feeling that urged him toward freedom told him that he could not ignore the draw of Iturbide.

He could see Guerrero trying and failing to maintain control. He picked up the dagger from the table and pulled it halfway from the sheath and then slid it back in. It seemed little more than a nervous gesture as he searched for words. He was not a man of letters, so the actual physical act was more familiar to him. Mexico could hear every piece of control the man could muster in the words, "If you were going to go anyway, why bring me the letter? Has it occurred to you that this might be a ploy to capture you?"

His rage was mixing with another pain that Mexico couldn't believe to be anything but disappointment. But here, Mexico knew that he could offer a genuine explanation, one that would hopefully prove that he still cared deeply about the insurgency. He replied, "Of course it has. I'm not a fool." He didn't allow the other to fill the small gap between his sentences. He could see that Guerrero wanted to chastise him, but this time he was going to dictate the direction of the rebellion. He continued, running over the first syllables of whatever his general was about to say, "Which is why I am telling you. I want you to know exactly where I am in case it is a trap. I am going whether you approve or not, but I would rather you were able to save me if there is a trap. I intend to go, but I don't intend to give Iturbide anything he can use against us."

Once he had finished laying out his reasoning, Mexico waited. If Guerrero was the man he thought he was, then he would understand. There was agonizing silence as the man fidgeted again with the dagger in his hand, his fingers betraying how tight his hold was. One hand was tight on the pommel while the other drummed nervously on the sheath. Guerrero did not meet Mexico's eyes and the country feared that he had done irreparable damage. But, then the mortal finally said, "I understand. Perhaps this is not a terrible idea. If you meet him, you will see him for the snake he is."

A self assured smile slowly returned to Guerrero's smile. He put down the dagger and then looked directly at Mexico. The reproach was gone from his eyes, but Mexico fancied he could still see the shadow of distrust there. Would it have been better to bring the letter unopened? The country did not respond immediately. His was not yet certain that his transgression was forgiven. He still felt an unaddressed friction in the air, the accusation that his insistence on Iturbide was unwarranted. Guerrero continued to speak, adding conditions to his approval, "I want you to take note of what he says to you. It will be just like this letter, full of empty flattery. No matter what he says, he will never be a true patriot."

Now Mexico felt comfortable enough to walk further into the tent and find a seat. He had the distinct feeling that now that they had agreement, the conversation would be much longer. Mexico let himself smirk, "I spent nearly 200 years in the Spanish court. I am used to empty flattery; you need not worry about that." He doubted that there was anything a discredited officer could say to manipulate him. Mexico was no longer the malleable colony. He could do exactly the opposite, and it would be easy. Iturbide had reason to hate Spain now. The dismissal was a painful blow to a proud man. Mexico would need to do very little to turn him against the Spanish cause. He spoke again, "Perhaps I can even charm this snake."

The look his general gave him was yet another of disapproval. Mexico could see the lines above the man's brows that indicated prolonged stress. There was distance in his response, "I never thought of you as a courtier." The words stung. Mexico had not expected to be met with this resistance. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat as he responded, "Did you imagine I survived two centuries of colonialism with integrity and my good looks?"

He looked up at the other, but the man had turned away from him. The mortal was busying himself with pieces of parchment that he moved from one place to another and then back again. He didn't respond to the rhetorical question, but the muscles of his shoulders were full of tension. Mexico stood up, deciding that he would not let this continue. He said, as he put a hand on the other's shoulder, "Are you disappointed? Have I damaged your faith in me?"

He could feel the emotions flow through his hand. He could feel the muscles tensed in the other's shoulder. He didn't want the answer to the question, but he preferred it to the uncertainty. Guerrero slowly turned towards his country and said, "I have often tried to imagine your life as a colony, especially after the letter from Spain. Knowing you as I do, I could only imagine you lied. I think I always knew you were capable of this. But, I believe you're better than this. I've seen it. You don't need to lie and manipulate like a Spaniard to succeed. If I can bring you independence, I will make sure you never have to again."

Mexico pulled his hand away, not a stung as he expected to be. There was an earnestness in the words that he couldn't help but appreciate. But, he couldn't deviate from his original plan. Iturbide would remain a thorn in their side if he was not dealt with. The urge welled up in Mexico's chest to fall to his knees and tell Guerrero everything from the moment he had left Tenochtitlan, leaving out nothing. But he pushed it away. That could be done later. The man certainly deserved the truth, but now was not the time for it.

Mexico had to remain resolute; he had to deal with the problem of Iturbide first. He put aside all pathos and said, "Do you want me to be completely candid with Iturbide when I meet him? He will take advantage of it." He meant the question honestly. It seemed best to play the politician with a man like Iturbide.

Guerrero seemed to weigh the question for only a moment before shaking his head, "No. Don't give him anything. Just remember, you're only going to get the measure of him. Don't promise him anything." Mexico nodded, glad to finally have this approval. True, this was only a begrudged approval, but it was enough. The chance to see Iturbide off the battlefield was indispensable. He said, slowly moving back to the chair he had vacated, "I won't. Where should I tell him to meet me?" _______________________________________________________________

Mexico paused for a moment, the words dying in his throat. He was trying to focus on the memory, but there was another night that was coming to mind. Another night when he had argued with Guerrero about the duplicity of politics. But, then it was him begging to keep his friend home and safe. Guerrero had heeded him exactly as well as Mexico had.

"Babe, are you alright?" America was looking at his lover with genuine concern. Mexico replied shortly, "I am fine." He could hear a slight quiver in his own voice that he hated. Why should this memory, above all of them, feel like a fresh wound. There was more than two centuries between then and now. But, he could see his general's face in his mind's eye and it hurt again.

America replied, "Then why are you crying?" Mexico put his hand to his own cheek and realized that it was wet. He said, "Fuck."

He didn't elaborate and America decided not delve into the subject. Instead, he said, "So, what happened next? Did you send a letter back?" Mexico was wiping the moisture away from his cheeks, cursing the fact that he had been so transparent. Only once he had finished this task did he say, "Of course I did. Vicente and I spent the whole night working on my response. I agreed to meet him at a small town well within our territory. I had to be sure that I wasn't going to be lured into a trap."

America could hear something hidden just under the surface of the words. For a moment, it struck him as odd that it would take the whole night to write a letter. But, perhaps a letter with such strategic importance look several drafts. He decided not to ask another question. He let Mexico continue to speak, "I was not certain what to expect when I met Agustin. I had been told so much about him that I prepared for lies." He paused for a moment and scoffed, "Like he could ever fool me. Well, needless to say, he surprised me." __________________________________________________

Mexico arrived early in the morning, deciding to canvas the area before the fateful meeting. He had a very clear plan of action, of which both he and Guerrero were aware. The spot they had agreed on was on a plain surrounded by forested hills. A fairly small insurgent force could easily hide in the forest and give Iturbide the illusion that he was alone. If the man was planning an assault, he would soon find himself out numbered and over whelmed. Mexico had also insisted on this place in particular because it was small and remote. There would be nothing to serve as a distraction, it would just be him and his destiny.

He had expected a feeling of nervousness to overtake him as the hour of the meeting came nearer. But, there was a cool calm in him. This was what he had been hoping for, if not with such clarity, since the first time he had seen the man. He had been prepared to meet Iturbide face to face on the battlefield for what felt like years now. This was the far more civilized tactic.

He was currently sitting on one of pews in the small chapel. There was something serene about this place. The altar lacked the grandeur of those he was used to, but the early morning light filtering in through the stained glass windows had an etherial charm. He had chosen this place because it was so central and most men would respect the tranquility of a church. Mexico did not feel the anxiety that he should. What would come was meant to be and he could feel it in his chest. His heart beat for this moment, he knew it instinctually. He put his hand to the medallion that was, for once, not under his clothing. He was used to feeling it against his skin. He usually wore it against his heart, but he wanted it to be visible today. It would be best for Iturbide to be able to see it. He needed to know who he was dealing with. Mexico had been wearing it in the same place for so long that wearing it elsewhere felt legitimately odd. Putting his hand against it let him feel it again.

He was not entirely sure of the hour, but he had the distinct feeling that the agreed upon hour was approaching. He should dread it, the prospect of coming into contact with this loyalist commander who had hunted him for so long, but the feeling would not come. If anything, this was what he had been waiting for.

The door opening behind him broke the silence. Mexico felt a familiar sensation run up the back of his neck and he knew who was looking at him. He was keenly aware of Iturbide's presence, but he still stood slowly. There was no need to let Iturbide know how eager he really was for this meeting. It would be a mistake to show his hand so early. As Mexico turned, he had to put conscious thought into hiding his own reaction.

Iturbide was standing not ten feet away from him with the morning sun filtering in around him. The mortal was dressed very modestly and it seemed strange, until Mexico considered the reason. It would be too risky to travel deep into insurgent territory wearing the uniform of the loyalist army. The man was no fool. As soon as he met Mexico's eyes, the country felt a jolt of the familiar energy shoot down his back. It was difficult to keep himself completely neutral with all the nerves in his body singing for this moment.

The mortal gave him a slight smile and then inclined his head in a gesture that seemed to be a bow. He said, "My country." Mexico couldn't help but feel flattered. Here was a man who was well known for his pride bowing to him. He could not take this action on complete faith, even if he wanted to. He waited, letting the mortal continue to dictate the conversation. He could better gauge Iturbide's position if he listened rather than voicing his own ambitions. He was not disappointed. Iturbide said, "I must admit that I was not certain you would be here. I am very glad that you are."

Mexico feigned surprise even though he knew the reason. He said, "Your letter was so intriguing. How could I resist?" Mexico could see a slight shift in the light as he met Iturbide's eyes again. He wondered if he was betraying the excitement he felt. It was fascinating to finally put a voice to the face he had seen so many times. Iturbide's words had the polished edge of an expensive education and experience. There was something in his tone that reminded Mexico of Madrid, of the high culture of the court. Mexico expected nothing less, considering what he knew of the man's background.

The response was careful with the same smooth intonation, "I thought you may think it was a trap. There was no way to make my intentions completely clear in the letter."

Mexico felt a coy smile curl across his face as he took a step closer to the man. He had his answer prepared and he was certain the other was not expecting it. He said, "Well, I certainly hope it is not for your sake." He fixed his gaze directly on the man's eyes and added, "It would go very badly for you." He did not need to elaborate on the threat. The point was not to intimidate Iturbide anyway. Mexico meant to make it clear that he was neither naive nor trusting.

He saw the realization dawn on the other's face. The expression passed from shock to a look of bemusement. He replied, matching Mexico's step toward him, "Then you are not a fool. I should have expected as much." There was a tension in the stillness of the air, but there was a clear solution. Mexico spoke again, "We have much to discuss. Come, walk with me."

He didn't wait for a response, he simply took a few steps towards the door of the church. He knew that if Iturbide was in earnest, which he seemed to be, he would follow. Sure enough, he heard the sound of footsteps falling in step with his own right beside him. Iturbide would not let this chance escape him, even if it meant humbling himself. He did, however, seize the chance to speak again, "Am I right in assuming that your general knows of our rendezvous?" There was no trepidation in his voice. Mexico made note of it. The man didn't balk at the idea that his enemy could know his exact location.

Mexico glanced over at the man and attempted to gauge his expression. But, there was little there to read. For now, Mexico would have to go off of instinct. He knew what he wanted and had a good idea what he needed to say to get it. He answered the direct question, "Of course he does. If you expect me to lie to my general, you are mistaken."

They reached the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Mexico could feel the soft warmth on his skin. It seemed to be reassuring him that he was on the right track. Only once they were outside did Iturbide finally respond, "Perhaps that is better. I do not fear him half as much as I fear some of the ambitious in the capital who would gladly tear me down. They want nothing more than their own promotion."

Mexico could hear the deliberate pauses that were meant to make the words more persuasive. It was a rhetorical strategy that he was well aware of. There was also a bitterness beneath it. Mexico had to put a conscious effort to not smirk. He knew where this was coming from. For a proud man, a dismissal was the ultimate insult. He had his own parry for this, "I have been told that you are no different."

This statement he expected to get a reaction to. This would serve as a test to see how Iturbide dealt with the rumors about him. A slight contortion of discomfort passed over the mortal's face. But, there was little of that pain in his voice when he said, "Success breeds envy. Envy breeds lies. I am a patriot, and only those Spaniards who covet my position." He paused for only a moment before continuing, the bitterness he was trying to hide broke through, "And Spain seems more than willing to give it to them, regardless of what I have achieved."

There was activity all around them as the people of the town started their days, but it was all background to Mexico. His mind was fixed firmly on the conversation at hand. He had just gained a very important point of leverage and he intended to use it. He said, "Don't judge Antonio too harshly for that. It is in our natures to favor and reward our own. He'll never let you rise too high because you weren't born on Spanish soil."

He allowed his eyes to linger on Iturbide's face as he let the implied promise sink in. The other's eyes widened as he realized what Mexico was really saying. The sun played across the glint of ambition in them. Before he could inquire for more details, Mexico shifted the topic of conversation. He meant to pique the man's interest without promising anything concrete. Promises could be broken, but temptation was left to the imagination.

Mexico urged the conversation in a different direction by saying, "But I'm sure you do not want to revisit your dismissal. You said in your letter that you had a proposition for independence and I am curious as to what it is."

The question of what Mexico was really promising was on the tip of the mortal's tongue, but he was forced to swallow it. Mexico was amused. The man wanted to ask what he could gain by backing a different side, but if he wanted to not appear to be an opportunist then he would have to keep it to himself. Mexico knew this game well. It had been a while since he had gotten to watch someone squirm like this. There was a slight smile on his lips that he did not need to hide. Iturbide would interpret it only as a reaction to the idea of independence. He knew full well how long Mexico had been fighting to be free.

There was, only for a moment, a very pregnant silence while Iturbide seemed to measure his words. His face betrayed little of what he was thinking, but Mexico could see it beneath the surface. The man was ambitious, but that was not off-putting. On some level, it was necessary to have ambition to rise in the ranks of the elite. But, the mortal was restraining himself so that he could maintain his claim of patriotism. To withhold his plan now would be an exceedingly poor idea. That had been the draw to this meeting.

As they continued to walk, keeping step with each other, Iturbide spoke, adding emphatic gestures where necessary to make his point, "You must know that your current strategy will only prolong the insurgency. I believe that I have the key to your independence. Make me your general and I will bring the support of the creole class. I am not the only one throughly disillusioned with Spanish duplicity." For the first time in the conversation, there was confidence ringing through every word he spoke. Mexico could feel it resonate in his chest like the ringing of a bell.

But, he also heard the words and understood the implication. He said, allowing his voice to sound sharper, "I will not throw away Vicente for you. He is my general and that is not negotiable." He could see the shock that momentarily passed over the man's face. Had he really expected no resistance? If so, he was mistaken. Iturbide stopped walked, which forced Mexico to stop as well and face him directly. Only once they were stopped again and their eyes met, he said, the sound of a sneer slipping into his voice, "You know that he can't win on his own. He is a brave man and a cunning warrior, I admit it. But, even if you succeed, he will never command the respect of my class. You're clever enough to know that."

Mexico held his ground, letting no hint of his reservations find their way into his words, "I value loyalty. He has protected me; you have hunted me. If you want my esteem, you will have to earn it with more than flattery." He pushed away all thoughts that this treatment was too harsh. On this he had to remain firm. He met Iturbide's eyes and expected the man to either balk or argue back.

Instead, he smiled, breaking his stoic composure, "You are even better than I expected. Spain speaks of you as though you were easily manipulated. I see that's not the case." Mexico drew in a sharp breath. He had thought little of what Spain said about him to his own people. He shouldn't be surprised considering Spain had blamed everyone else for his rebellion. It was so delusional that it could only be an invention of Spain's own distressed imagination.

He couldn't completely suppress the urge to laugh. A snicker escaped from his mouth before he could stop himself. The other tilted his head with a look of amusement. As he took a step away from Iturbide, Mexico gave an explanation, "I could write a book on what Antonio doesn't know about me." He took another step and turned again to continue walking.

The sun had risen higher in the sky, and now Mexico could feel it hot on his shoulders. But, he felt curiously in control. Iturbide had to follow him or choose to compromise his own position. As Mexico expected, the man couldn't resist the temptation to follow after him. There was also no need for him to speak again. Iturbide's eyes were fixed on him, and there was a sense of growing fascination in his expression.

Mexico waited for the words he knew were coming. Like clockwork, Iturbide said, "I admit I am impressed. But, my resolve is strong. I know I am destined to end this war. I thought that I would do it by ending the insurgency. Now I know I will not fight for Spain." Mexico smiled to himself. There was a strain in the carefully controlled tone that indicated that there was truth in these words. Emotions were breaking through again. Mexico also knew the feeling that the man was failing to articulate it, he had it in his own chest. Destiny exerted itself in the most inexplicable draws.

Mexico asked the next question out of curiosity, not as a test, "What will you do if Spain offers to reinstate you?" There was the distinct possibility of exactly that happening. Despite his jealousy, Spain was no fool. He would soon realize that he had not won the war and he would remember Iturbide's victories. He would offer no real apology, but he would give the man back command in hopes of ending the war.

Iturbide scoffed, "He will not. He made it perfectly clear that he will not let me command an army again." Mexico stopped walking, the heel of his boot throwing up a small cloud of dust. He said, "He will. In a few months, he will regret your dismissal because you are talented and he is desperate." The mortal's eyebrow arched slightly higher. He responded, "I do not forgive slights against my honor."

Mexico caught a flash of something in Iturbide's eyes. It was the pain of truly wounded pride. He could certainly use that to his advantage. But, for now, it was not of use. So, he said, "I take comfort in that." He looked directly into the other's eyes yet again, letting the feeling of shared destiny wash over him again. There was a plan growing in his mind, one that would bring independence with relatively little pain. But, it required Iturbide to play his part, even if he was not completely aware of it. The wind blowing through the streets, which were getting progressively more crowded, and played across the back of his neck. This was completely right, he could feel it. He said, "You should write to my general. I will not replace him, but if you can convince him, then you can both have command. But, if you choose to take your old position back, I will consider you my enemy again."

As he spoke, he saw Iturbide's mind mulling over the idea. No doubt, he was weighing what he he could gain from each option. Mexico allowed it. He felt with an unshakable certainty that the eventual answer would be in his favor. It wouldn't hurt to prod the man in the right direction. Mexico added, "Remember, it is in the nature of a country to love and reward their own."

With that, he extended his hand in a gesture that was meant to show that this conversation was over, but it was also meant to signal the fraternity between them. The mortal reached out and took the extended hand. Neither of them were wearing gloves and the contact of skin against skin sent a feeling of pure energy up Mexico's arm. As he looked directly at the man, the light seemed to distort for only a moment and he swore he could see the man's head crowned with gold. But, as quickly as the vision came, it was gone. But, Mexico felt like the air had been knocked out of him. Iturbide said only, "I will write to you again soon." Then he released Mexico's hand and walked away. Mexico was left standing in the glowing sun of midday, his entire body singing with the feeling that he had just set himself on the right path. His destiny was laid out at his feet and he was ready to take whatever steps he must.

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philly-osopher · 8 years ago

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Macaroniverse headcanons, Angelica edition

So after I posted the last installment of the Macaroniverse, @herowndeliverance asked if there would ever be an Angelica/ Maria Cosway side-story, and that’s where these headcanons were born from :)

Available here on Ao3, if you’d prefer that format. Warnings for sexual content.

Part I

Look, normally it’s not Angelica’s style to publicly eviscerate the arguments of people who disagree with her in class. At least, it hasn’t been since sophomore year, when a professor actually took her aside and said, look, you’re brilliant, everybody knows you’re brilliant, but just… please let the other students breathe. So she had, and she’d kept the peace for a long time. But there Angelica was, a senior in this upper div policy course, and a younger girl, one she had tutored last year, no less, sort of stumbled over her point, and this obnoxious know-it-all boy had pointed out her error and gone on this long speech about all the reasons why this was the better idea and Angelica. Flayed. Him. Alive.

So when he cornered her in the dining hall the next day, she wasn’t expecting him to be actually pretty charming. And sheepish, once she’d pointed out to him that he’d been an obnoxious dick. Certainly she wasn’t expecting him to beg for more correction. He'd reread the text and refined his point. Still wrong, but wrong in an actually interesting way. They'd stayed and argued until the cafeteria closed and then returned to her dorm room and ended the encounter with his face between her thighs.

Aaaaand he was a freshman. Whoops.

Still, he was an adult, and he was not only talented but willing to take instruction, and as far as the sex went he seemed to prefer taking care of himself, which… maybe had some hangups, maybe he was some rare subcategory of ace, who knew. Angelica wasn’t about to look a gift fuck in the mouth, so to speak. Except Herc started giving her dirty looks everywhere and Herc got along with everyone and Angelica wasn't really used to the idea of making a faux pas without knowing it, so she'd gotten all worked up about it and asked him, except he'd said he couldn't tell her and she should ask Alex and... and well...

Yeah, she really, really should have asked earlier, because at that point Alex accused her of pitying him (true), of not even being attracted to him (false!), of using him (... true, she supposes, although she hadn’t really known it, had she? Hadn’t he had some responsibility to communicate?). And then when she'd tried to work it out he'd picked up his wounded pride and stormed out.

She'd written him a letter. A careful but heartfelt apology, after half a bottle of wine, with Eliza consulting by phone from an ocean away, that had boiled down to, I want to make this work. Eliza kept Angelica from veering off into either wallowing self-flagellation (her first instinct) or point-by-point rehashing and complete denial of responsibility (her second).

He answered her long letter with his own long letter, and she’d cried reading it, how hurt this boy was, not so much by her as by the world, and they’d gotten back together and didn’t really talk about it all that much again. And they'd never were exclusive with one another, but were so mutually obsessed that the question didn't arise. Like, usually Angelica is so intense she has to spread it across multiple people, but not with Alex. She loved showing off all her ideas to him, arguing and blowing off steam until early in the morning, taking it straight into the bedroom. It was glorious, for a couple months.

She knows deep down that what they’ve got going—good friends, nice benefits—isn’t going to be enough for him. She finds herself rereading his letter, feeling his loneliness and all his sharp edges, feeling a deep compulsion to make it better, to make him a Project. She could do that, maybe, could refine his heart the same way she’s refining his mind with every argument he comes this much closer to winning. But that’s not her strong suit—that’s Eliza’s, maybe, but now that Angelica’s had Alex, that would just feel… weird. She’s not really the type to share, and nor is Eliza, for that matter.

Still, she might be able to grow her relationship with Alex, if she just puts in enough time, and effort, and worry, except—except she's going to law school in New York next year, damnit, she's going to need every advantage, and Alex is taking so much of her time and her worry already, this boy has already become a Project for her and that's not fair, it's not her job to be his fucking… refiner and it's not his fault he needs refining but she can't afford to be slowed down. She’s already a black woman in America, does she really want to stack the deck against herself further? Why can’t she just get back together with Church and have a slick, safe boyfriend who will look great on Christmas cards?

And maybe she's worried deep down, too, that if she spends all her time polishing this boy up one day he might outshine her. Alex is that brilliant. That's a mark of respect, she tells herself, that she's started to see him as a rival and not an interesting intellectual toy. That's a mark of the work that she's already put in, all those nights of long debates and subtle corrections and just-right follow-ups. This, she tells herself, as she breaks up with him, two months before the end of her senior year, is the mark of a job well-done.

She was ready for him to be sad, but she wasn’t ready for the heartbreak that flooded into his eyes the minute she told him. He has to turn away for a moment. She doesn’t follow him, doesn’t put a hand on his shoulder. Pretends she has no idea what’s happening. It’s better that way—she doesn’t want to hurt his pride, when she’s already hurt so much else.

“I thought—I mean, I knew… law school, but I thought we had… I thought we had another couple months, I didn’t—”

“I need to get used to being by myself,” Angelica says, simply. “Stand on my own. Independence is really important.” Those reasons, at least, he’ll understand. All the others she’ll keep for herself.

“Yeah,” Alex rasps. Angelica wants to take his hand, turn him around, give him a hug, but their relationship was never all that huggy, anyway, and anyway, he's not her project anymore. It's a relief, to absolve herself of responsibility for Alex's emotions. She walks away, texting Herc as she goes. Hey, if you don’t see Alex at dinner tonight you should grab him something, okay? Herc will figure out what happened from that alone.

After they break up Alex seems to bounce back pretty fast. The first time they do lunch it’s weird, the careful deference they have for each other, never letting fingers touch, like even that would send them flying back over the edge. But gradually they learn to be comfortable in each others’ company again. After she moves to New York they Skype every so often. Angelica still really enjoys talking to him. That spark is still there, ready to be fanned into a flame. But she leaves confident that he'll return to her circle soon enough, refined by life and his own hard work. The question is whether she's willing to wait that long—or whether she'll find someone else in the interim.

Part II

Angelica's law firm had been getting their portraits done by Rick Cosway ever since his dad died a few years back and he inherited the business. She'd just made partner—youngest ever by about ten years, first woman, first person of color, no big deal—and she was so, so ready to have that portrait looming imposingly over everyone walking in the door. Yeah, that's Angelica Schuyler. No, she's not here to take your lunch order, she's a motherfucking partner, now show some goddamn respect.

Rick Cosway's studio is unexpectedly hip, in this strange shared makerspace warehouse in Brooklyn. His stodgy traditional half-done portraits look really out of place compared to... well... everything else in there. Angelica steps over a lot of extension cords in her Louboutins to get to the chair for her sitting.

Halfway through her sitting the guy gets up to take a fucking phone call. Well, that's unacceptable. Angelica had just wanted to send him a photograph anyway, but he'd insisted on her coming down to sit for the portrait and all the old white dudes at the firm had said it was a rite of passage and she'd wanted the full partner experience but whatever, this is bullshit. She gets up.

Literally as she's in the middle of walking imperiously out in her heels she sees something that makes her gasp. Makes her come to a full stop like she’s run into a fucking wall, and just stare. It's a painting, probably twelve feet high, of a woman, and she's smirking straight down at Angelica, arms crossed over her chest. She looks like a sailor, covered in old tattoos—but her body is also painted in the tattoo style, and the tattoos continue straight off her body, and as Angelica looks it's almost like she's reading a story of all the shit this Nasty Woman has overcome to get where she is and Angelica's just fucking. Blown away. This titanic figure is on her level, this is someone who gets her—

At the foot of the painting is a Latina woman very much covered in tattoos and Angelica realizes this is a self-portrait and feels like she's been struck by a fucking lightning bolt.

Just then Rick Cosway comes trotting up with an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he says, "important client. You know how it is." The woman with the tats is listening, Angelica can tell.

"First, I am an important client. Second, I don't need your services anymore," she says coldly. "I'm commissioning her."

Something in the unhurried way the woman turns around spooks Angelica. "... if she'll have me," she finishes, suddenly self-conscious. What if she's too corporate, too alpha-bitch, too uncool for this clearly very cool very creative very strong-willed woman?

"I dunno, Ricky, should I let her buy me a drink? Treat me real nice?" the woman asks.

Later—at the bar, in fact—Angelica learns that the two of them are married for tax and immigration purposes. She also learns that Maria works half as a painter, mostly portraits, and half as a tattoo artist, and has been profiled on 60 Minutes and gotten a goddamn genius grant and a shitton of awards.

Maria's not at all modest about any of these things, which is a relief because that way Angelica doesn't have to figure out a way to be subtle about working the fact that she was the first black female president of the Harvard Law Review into the conversation.

And when Maria raises an eyebrow and asks "wasn't that Obama's job once? Are you planning on following in his footsteps?" Angelica doesn't do her usual cute laugh and change the subject routine. She doesn't turn down any of the intensity in her voice when she says, "Absolutely."

#my fic #Angelica Schuyler #Angelica Schuyler Church #Hamilton modern AU #Maria Cosway #Angelica Schuyler/ Maria Cosway #Macaroniverse #Hamilton Broadway

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