#and there’s so much pressure especially on women to look young

[flammechesdoodles]

Found a genderbent Captain Hook I drew 10 years ago and thought it was due for a redraw.

[memento-mariii]

I'm not scared of getting older, I'm scared of new opportunities getting shut off from me :(

[and-then-there-were-n0ne]

I read this week that Instagram is pushing “overtly sexual adult videos” to young users. For a Wall Street Journal investigation, journalists created accounts that could belong to children, following young gymnasts, cheerleaders and influencers. The test accounts were soon served sexual and disturbing content on Instagram Reels, alongside ads for dating apps, livestream platforms with “adult nudity” and AI chatbots “built for cybersex”. Some were next to ads for kids’ brands like Disney.

This is something I’ve been trying to get across to parents about social media. The problem is not just porn sites. They are of course a massive concern. Kids as young as nine are addicted. The average age to discover porn is now 13, for boys and girls. And many in my generation are now realising just how much being raised on porn affected them, believing it “destroyed their brain” and distorted their view of sex.

But the problem is bigger than that. Porn is everywhere now. TikTok is serving up sex videos to minors and promoting sites like OnlyFans. The gaming platform Twitch is exposing kids to explicit live-streams. Ads for “AI sex workers” are all over Instagram, some featuring kids’ TV characters like SpongeBob and the Cookie Monster. And there’s also this sort of “soft-porn” now that pervades everything. Pretty much every category of content that kids could stumble across, from beauty trends to TikTok dances to fitness pages, is now pornified or sexualised in some way for clicks.

I think this does a lot of damage to Gen Z. I think it desensitises us to sex. I think it can ruin relationships. But beyond that, I also believe a major problem with everything being pornified is the pressure it puts on young girls to pornify themselves. To fit the sex doll beauty standard; to seek validation through self-sexualisation, and potentially monetise all this like the influencers they’re inundated with.

Which, of course, puts girls at risk of predators. Predators who are all over TikTok, Instagram and Snapchat. Predators whose algorithms helpfully deliver them more content of minors and steer them towards kids’ profiles. Predators who are taking TikToks of underage girls and putting them on platforms like Pornhub.

And this is even more terrifying because adolescent girls are especially vulnerable today. They are vulnerable anyway at that age—but today they have far less life experience than previous generations of girls did. They are extremely insecure and anxious, and much less resilient. Combine this with the fact that they are now more easily exposed to predatory men than ever before in history, and served to strangers by algorithms. And another thing: girls are also able to look way older now. They have AI editing apps to sexualise themselves. TikTok filters to pornify their bodies. And access to every kind of make-up and hair and fashion tutorial you can think of to look sexier and more mature. I don’t think enough parents realise how dangerous this situation is.

Which is why I find it so frustrating to see some progressives downplay the dangers of all this. Those that dismiss anyone concerned about the pornification of everything as a stuffy conservative. And somehow can’t see how the continual loosening of sexual norms might actually empower predatory men, and put pressure on vulnerable girls? That seems delusional to me.

Let’s just say I have little patience for those on the left who loudly celebrate women sexualising themselves online, selling it as fun, feminist and risk-free, but are then horrified to hear about 12 year-olds doing the same thing. C’mon. No wonder they want to.

But I also find it frustrating to see some on the right approach this with what seems like a complete lack of compassion. I don’t think it helps to relentlessly ridicule and blame young women for sexualising themselves online. I don’t think it’s fair either. We can’t give girls Instagram at 12 and then be surprised when as young women they base their self-worth on the approval of strangers. We can’t inundate kids with sexual content all the time and be shocked when they don’t see sex as sacred, or think sex work is just work! We can’t give them platforms as pre-teens where they are rewarded for sexualising themselves and presenting themselves like products and then shame them for starting an OnlyFans. We can’t expose them to online worlds where everything is sexualised and then be confused why some of Gen Z see their sexuality as their entire identity.

And again, on top of these platforms, girls are growing up in a culture that celebrates all of this. They are being raised to believe that they must be liberated from every restraint around sex and relationships to be free and happy, and many have never heard any different. Celebrities encourage them to be a slut, get naked, make/watch porn and make money! Mainstream magazines teach them how to up their nude selfie game! Influencers tell millions of young followers to start an OnlyFans, and pretend it’s about empowering young girls to do whatever they want with their bodies! I can’t say this enough: their world is one where the commodification and sexualisation the self is so normalised. It’s heartbreaking. And cruel that anyone celebrates it.

So sure, young women make their own choices. But when we have children sexualising themselves online, when girls as young as 13 are using fake IDs to post explicit content on OnlyFans, when a third of those selling nudes on Twitter are under the age of 18, I think it’s safe to say we are failing them from an early age.

I guess what I’m trying to get across is this: it’s tough for girls right now. It’s tough to be twelve and anxious and feel unattractive and this is how everyone else is getting attention. It’s tough to constantly compare yourself to the hyper-sexualised influencers that the boys you’re interested in are liking and following and thinking you have to compete. It’s tough to feel like the choice is sexualise yourself or nobody will notice you. The sad reality is we live in a superficial, pornified culture that rewards this stuff, and in many ways punishes you if you’re modest and sensitive and reserved, and a lot of girls are just trying to keep up with it.

We need serious cultural change. We need to wake up to how insane this all is, how utterly mental it is that we allow young girls anywhere near social media, and how we’ve let the liberalising of sexual mores escalate to the point where pre-teens are posing like porn stars and are lied to that it’s liberation. And where we need to start is with an absolute refusal from parents to let their kids on these platforms.

So please. If the relentless social comparison and obliteration of their attention span and confusion about their identity wasn’t enough, this has to be. Don’t let your daughters on social media.

[plus-size-reader]

Gentle

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated

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The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.

Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.

Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.

You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.

As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.

Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.

Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”

You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.

…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.

You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.

For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.

If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.

With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.

It was all set, just as you wanted it.

The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.

Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.

You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.

They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.

You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.

He was an interesting man, you’d decided.

Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.

They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.

Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.

A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.

Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.

You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.

It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.

That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.

The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.

Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.

After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.

None outside of you that was.

You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.

However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.

Surely he thought you were demented.

In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.

Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.

After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.

Naturally he was curious.

No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.

You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.

Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.

As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.

Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.

There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.

“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.

It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.

You didn’t answer at first.

Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.

If only he knew.

The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.

You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.

…What it felt like.

Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.

He hoped you weren’t afraid.

In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.

“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.

It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.

You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.

Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.

They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.

Never once had you looked away from him.

You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.

“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.

You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.

If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.

Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.

“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.

Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.

The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.

You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.

“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”

That was it.

There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.

After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?

“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.

Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.

While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.

It made them look small.

“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.

If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.

“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.

“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.

You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.

“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.

He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.

“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.

You had been right.

He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.

“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.

At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.

As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.

“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.

That was it.

In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.

…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.

[talktonytome]

Ok I couldn’t stop thinking about this post and how Eddie’s cultural background impacts his life so I’m adding some of my thoughts:

re: repression and emotions- unfortunately for those who subscribe to the machismo part of our culture, they are taught to repress emotions- boys&men shouldn’t cry, suck it up, showing pain is weak. And we see that with Eddie and his Dad, who ingrained that so much so Eddie resorted to unhealthy outlets (like cage fighting-another macho thing) and he was having panic attacks because his feelings and emotions had no where to go. He was so reluctant and skeptical of therapy (again another machismo/ Mexican thing)

re: being forced to grow up too fast- when he was a BOY, his dad told him he had to be the “man” of the house now and take care of the family, which segues into getting Shannon pregnant in their teens. By his dad’s measure, he was a man right? He was expected to get married and assume the role of husband and provider. And sure, religion plays into it as well. he felt pressured and never had the time to think what do I want to do? And as is the case for so many to escape their situation, he joined the army and boy do you grow up fast there.

re: relationships- he married his first serious girlfriend when they were so young and even though they loved each other, people change so much and they weren’t given the option to consider not being together. Eddie mostly assumed the role of provider because he didn’t know how to deal with everything going on, especially with Christopher. (btw I don’t think it’s fair how harsh some ppl are about Shannon bc she was left alone with a kid and Eddie’s parents who hated her) He wasn’t there to be a husband or a father because, as he said himself, he left first and ofc he felt guilt over that. His only impression of love and their relationship was stagnant and frozen in time. When he reunited with Shannon, he was only maybe just starting to get closure when she died and he fell into that grief and never let himself fully heal from it. After being with Christopher again, he fully took on the role of father and that is all he was. His subsequent relationships did not work because he was really looking for a mom for Christopher and again didn’t ask himself what he wants, he struggled with relationships, and as a result, the women he tried to date suffered.

We know that his aunt constantly tries to set him up with people and oh god if that isn’t relatable. If you’re Latinx, we hear it all the time! “Cuando te vas a casar?” (When are you getting married?) “No tienes novio(a)?” (You don’t have a gf/bf?) “Deja the presento a” (let me introduce you to). There’s this pressure and stigma about being alone and Eddie goes along with these set-ups, women that are not chosen by him so ofc it feels like a performance. (I mean dating already is when you’re just getting to know someone.) and there’s the expectation in our culture that you need a partner and nuclear family to be complete.

In conclusion, I wish more people could see the influence and impact all of this has on Eddie’s life and decisions, and how he’s hispanic man forced to grow up too soon and become a dad-coded. I wish that nuance was considered more often, and my hope for season 8 is that he finally breaks it all down and figures out what he wants and who he wants to be!

[kafkasmeow]

1 ꗃ A FAMILIAR TUNE

imagine! 7.2k words worth of slow-burn ─ dan heng x reader ─ second pov fem! reader ─ angst and fluff ─ father! jing yuan (strictly platonic) ─ i treated the reader more as an oc, i do apologise for that.

summery ─ leaving home was one of the hardest choices you’ve ever had to make, yet how could you stay when the life you lived could only ever bring you sadness and superficiality? 

aka dan heng x reader with mommy and daddy issues

disclaimer ─ this story may hold sensitive subjects such as mentioned death, neglect and the baggage that comes with it, mental illness, violence, harassment and talks of infertility. it has a very long introduction (my bad lol), a rather steamy end and takes inspiration from the original story line so be careful of spoilers and it was inspired by head-canons written here by @lyomeii , please go show some love. remember that this is a work of fiction and any names and characters written are my imagination alone. enjoy <3

taglist ─ @can-i-go-to-sleep-please ─ @can-i-stay-awake

There was a time when things felt easier, when the sun seemed to shine brighter despite the overwhelming shadow that was always cast on your family. You used to love the deep smell of green tea that enveloped the parlour each time the two of you took residence in it, and the wind that would swirl it around the whole of the office all while you laughed without a single care at the way it tugged your translucent shawl and hair. 

Jing Yuan adored that sound more than anything, it filled his heart with the warmest of contents yet the cruelest of longings. He would sip quietly on the tea you’d brewed for him and pretend to enjoy the frivolous moment with his eyes closed, but you both knew that when you looked away, another story would be told completely. 

Perhaps in reality, the sun never shined brighter than it seemed to and it was never easier to stomach. You were just too naive, too young to notice the thin cords bringing you and your father closer, and too ignorant to see the way they were slowly beginning to rip under the pressure. 

To the public eye, your father loved you more than anything in the world, that was no news to anyone atop the Xianzhou Luofu. You’ve always worn the most expensive silks to have ever been created, with the richest of accessories and jewels. Whenever a new Hanfu dress would reach your hands, he would parade you on the busiest streets himself, making sure everyone and their mothers would talk about it by noon the next day. 

He made sure you always had the most able and knowledgeable professors at your call, and if you ever needed anything, all you’d have to do is ask to whomever was closest to you at the very moment, and it would be fulfilled within seconds. Sometimes you didn’t know if the servants did it out of admiration for your father or obligation.

Jing Yuan made sure you never needed or wanted for more. Materially, that is. 

And things were bound to change as you grew, especially as he cruelly presented you to the scrutiny of high society. 

You quickly grew to understand that it was his way of apologising, like a crow that would chip away at your skin then bring you trinkets of appreciation. When you sat and listened to some woman criticise that your dress was too frivolous for the event, too out of fashion for society and that none of your jewels matched, he did not do much but smile and pat your shoulder. 

“Little [Y/n] will learn from your kind advice.” He assured her, but you barely held in a snort of frustration. When the other women joined in, when they begun pulling at your hair to adjust it, when they hit your hands with their fans as you purred tea for not angling your elbows right, when they shamed you as the hall hollered with laughter, he watched and smiled, so you took a deep breath and smiled back to everyone around you too.

Later that very evening he found you with tears running on your cheeks, a box of red and gold velvet in his hands. Your father did not speak, nor did he show much emotion on his face and it angered you. You wished to yell, to protest for the fact that he had not jumped to your defence, but as you opened the box, all protests died on your lips and the tears stilled, hands shaking at the most beautiful jade hair pin you’ve ever seen.

But his gifts stopped making up for his emotional absence around the third time it happened. 

And you knew they all watched you like a hawk. Every move you’d make before the higher ups would be analysed on a scale of “good enough” or “weak” by none other than your father’s so called friends, while every single gesture before the public was like pulling needles off your skin. Yesterday you wore your Hanfu scandalously low on your cleavage, today you didn’t say thank you when the guard accompanying you opened up your parasol, tomorrow you won’t hold your tea cup quite right and so on. 

Usually it was easy to ignore.

But that was before the daughters of the noblest of houses would begin to alienate you for shallow reasons, and before the sons of each commissioner would size you up as nothing but easy stock to win over, an easy marriage in the pocket, or so they thought. 

It was easy for them to have the audacity to criticise you to your face or try to win you over, after all, you were nothing but a spoiled brat who’s never heard no for as long as she’s lived. Surely, you’ve never faced a single hardship, so the public felt righteous enough to scold you into it while for those within you were noting but a charity case. 

So you tried to learn all you could, so you’d never feel as less in front of others ever again. Since the very evening of your debut, you insisted on having a book under your arm, a needle in your hand, a sword at your hip, or a qin in your lap while tea cups simmered on a table. It felt easier to overlook the loneliness when you did. You found that after a certain age, it felt comforting even to worry about making it in time to granny Hua’s qin lessons while leaving the swordplay hall behind, rather than sit pretty in a room and wait all day for your father to finish his duties as a general. There was no more room at social events for rude interventions, and no more room in your mid for uncomfortable questions to ask while doing so, really.  

But you couldn’t avoid them for an eternity, that was for sure. And neither could Jing Yuan, for even in tranquil moments when peace had the taste of green tea and the smell of fresh air after rain, your twinkling eyes were still a carbon copy of how hers were. 

In the better of these days, your father would pretend to laugh at a joke you made, while you pretended to be satisfied with his reaction. You’d move a piece on the xiangqi board with elegant hands and chatted about the latest passage you read in a philosophy book, and he hummed in agreement while placing his own piece down. A cleverly crafted strategy to his own defeat, one that you felt content with following despite the fragile shame that came with it. 

It was a play you both excelled at most, after all.

At the worst of it all, you can’t understand his harsh voice as he yells “That is enough, [Y/n]!” while slamming his tea cup on the table. The whole room would shake at his warning, but your hunger for answers was much stronger than any fear, so you really can’t understand his fury when you yell back “Father! It is not!” He look at you with sorrow in his heart and his eyes were twisted by a pain you’d never understand, as he could only see her in you. 

“I will not have this conversation with you!” He’d warn again, but you took it as an invitation to push even further. “I don’t know the first thing about my mother, Jing Yuan! Her name? Never heard of it. Her face? Never seen it. Do you not think it is cruel, father?” Hot tears streamed on your perfect porcelain cheeks, smearing the red eyeliner you had painted on. “No one ever speaks about her to me, everyone refuses to. But they all look at me like I’m some kind of…” Your voice trailed off with hard puffs and sobs. “Like I’m some kind of…” 

His own chest puffed and the sight of you felt like a stab to his heart. You couldn’t get your words out, you didn’t need to really. People constantly looked at you in one of two ways, no matter how perfectly you’ve learned to craft your smiles, or how good your tea brewing had became, you were either a charity case they’d pity, or a spoiled brat that knew none of what the real world would offer.

 But despite all of his anger, he was still your father, and as much as he loved to punish himself trough you, he still held back the need of snapping the heads off all of their shoulders. He would reach for the back of your neck with his hand, bringing you into his chest in a half hug. “You are enough. Never forget that.” He’d kiss the crown of your head and inhale the floral smell of your hair. It grounded him, even as you screamed into his chest and pushed him away, his grip stayed firm until you’d shed your last tear and you cried your last sob. 

Because despite of how much you hated to admit it, you were living and breathing for his approval, which you seemed to never ever gain.

Unbeknownst to you, everything about you was just like her. Your face, your hair, even the way you wore your Hanfu  a little out of place with the shawl falling all over the floor when you walked, or your mannerism as you spoke with a tiny accent on your tongue, it was all her and nothing of his except the mole under your left eye. You’ve never met her, he tried to reason. You’ve never seen her or heard of her deeds. Your mother has been an enigma to you ever since you could remember things, and yet the world punished him with her perfect copy in you when he tried to push her memory away the most. 

It felt bittersweet. To the outside eye, general Jing Yuan adored his daughter more than anything else in the world. But underneath the jewellery, there were unaddressed feelings, each pearl you wore for people on the Central Starskiff Heaven to see was a tear unshed, each new dress was a silent apology they’d never hear, each loving promenade you’d have with your father was there to hide for the public a question you asked when the cord was too tensed. One of these days it would snap in half, you were sure of it. 

So who could blame you when it all overflowed? When you could no longer smile in the face of those who envied you and when your father’s emotional absence felt like a hallow painting of what should have really been? When the dresses and the jewels weren’t smothering the pain any longer?

You felt it daily, building up, pressing down, tugging at your smiles until they became frowns and empty stares, and your ever growing depression was evident for anyone that roamed the gardens outside your window at night, as your qin carried into the world the saddest tune your heart feared to voice. And this time, not even a Hanfu made out of golden thread would ease your pain. 

“So, say you, general,” 

Your father hummed back to the woman before him as he placed his piece down on the board. Another noble nodded in agreement with his choice behind him. You saw them all from where you were sitting, fingers strumming the qin in a delicate tune for the whole room to enjoy, while gin purred from flasks and laughter echoed somewhere in the back. It wasn’t like you to agree partaking in parties like these, but how could you turn Jing Yuan down when he asked you to serenade him at the event?

“I would say you’d want to keep your daughter closest to you, am I not right?” The wicked tone in the noble’s voice made you shiver underneath the silver shawl that draped off your shoulders. “Quite so I fear, why is that?” 

“Well, I hoped to reach you when I first heard the news, but I was quite busy, yous see?” The woman, an esteemed elder of the Artisanship Commission, hid her face behind what was possibly the most obnoxious fan you’ve ever seen, and your fingers became stiff on the metal strings of your trusted instrument. “Pardon me?” The general stilled his movements on the xiangqi pieces while the chattering went quiet. Nothing but your trembling notes filled the air.

“You know, I wished to give you my deepest condolences the moment I heard. For your daughter’s… unfortunate situation, that is.” Confused, Jing Yuan tilts his head to where you stood, only to be met with the same questions on your face that you desperately tried to drown as you played your melody. He chuckled awkwardly, then, and returned his attention on the game. “I fear I don’t know what you’re going on about, ma’am.”

“Ah… You know, the fact that your daughter is unable to bear children has quite saddened us all. I was looking forward to sending my son as a potential suitor!” 

If eyes could kill, you would be sure that the place where the woman stood would have become scorched dust. An involuntary scoff left your lips loud enough to draw attention, but you pretended to be engrossed with tuning your qin before beginning to play another piece for the hall. 

“And where have you heard such news, I wonder?” But she held no fear in her eyes. 

“Well, for one, everyone in high society talks about it! You see, your daughter is already past the age of accepting suitors yet has never even been seen with a man, so people assume. That being said I personally was told so by a doctor that works under you, your grace.” 

‘Lies’, you told yourself, but it was not enough to cool the blush you had on your cheeks from embarrassment, no matter how much you have been shamed by the public eye, nothing could compare to this very moment now. 

“Is that so,” Your father trailed off, then placed his piece on the xiangqi board. “Well, from what I know, your son is welcome to send in his suitor application, for my daughter is more than healthy and cared for. In fact, now that I think about it,” But you didn’t wish to hear any more. 

With a sudden move, you jumped from your seat to your feet and rushed to gather the qin underneath its silk cloth. The commotion drew attention to you, and so murmurs begun filling your ears which only fed your ever growing shame. “Please excuse me.” You voiced as you bowed deeply to the room of lords and nobles, then picked up your instrument and hurried to the exit with a strained “Please enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

And you hoped that would be the last you’ve heard of it all, but as fate wanted it, that was far from how things would play. 

“Father! This is ridiculous!” You protested. For all reason and purposes, it really was. 

Not even a full day after what happened, he invited you to serve tea with him in the parlour. You found it odd, as he never requested your presence on Tuesday afternoons, but did not complain as you stepped into the room with haste. 

He took his time finding the courage to face you, and when he understood he would not be able to deliver the news to you with a straight face, he pushed a stack of paper to you without even meeting your eyes. There, in red ink, was your fate sealed by a simple signature. An agreement that had been made without your knowledge or permission, and a wound that would become the reason for the demise of cord that held your family together.

Marriage certificate. 

No one knows what was truly discussed that night in the evening, but what was known was that you’ve fled with tears in your eyes and anger on your face. And for better or for worse, that would become the last time anyone on the Xianzhou Luofu had seen you under the identity of the general’s daughter, for you found no more room in your heart for the pain that followed with it.

“You know, when you put it like that, I do think that green works best with coral!” March eagerly nodded her head, while Dan Heng took his time analysing Himeko’s theory. You and welt only listened to the conversation with one ear, while the other was being filled with questions over questions from Stelle. 

“I don’t believe that’s a wise move.” You chirped as Welt placed the piece down, and you followed with a quick movement that gained you his general. He groaned and pushed his glasses up away while massaging the bridge of his nose. Stelle wowed and wood at your victory, and March leaned from her seat across the express’ parlour with a “really?” look in her eyes. 

“You lost again, M. Yang?” 

“I swear I’m good at this game.” And you chuckled while placing the pieces back into their pouch. “Used is a keyword.” March continued to tease while everyone watched your movements, which, weirdly, felt more calming than before your time on the express. In truth, it was because they never snickered underneath their palms and never cherry picked your posture until you’d get it wrong. 

That being said, you could only care for one person’s eyes alone, and his stare felt like electricity on the back of your neck. 

“How did you learn to play like this, anyways? You’re like a mad genius at these.” Stelle intervened, and you couldn’t help but shiver as your father’s knowing eyes came into your mind. “Ah…” was all that escaped your lips, before you cured your pained expression in a calm and lovely smile. “My father taught me how to play. He always made it so I would win, though. Therefore, for the longest time I believed I was quite bad at it too.” 

Your voice felt like crystal in the quiet room, so quiet and soft to the ear that it was more akin to a melody than a spoken sentence. You never truly talked about your home, never about your family of your past, which is exactly why your friends turned to you with a cocktail of shocked expressions. Despite how polite and proper you always were, whenever someone asked about it, you would have the coldest glare thrown their way, sure, involuntarily, but scary nonetheless, and with time the crew learned to not ask about a past you so much wished to hide.

Despite that, they never judged you for any of it, not even when your friendship has been tried over and over by your cold heart. You were never outright rude per se, but distant hit the nail in the head best. When Himeko would extend an invitation to a “coffee party” for the crew as an example, you refused with a polite smile that felt ripped out of etiquette teaching picture books, saying you prefer tea instead. 

She feared you’d be left out, you feared being the centre of attention. 

“I believe I’ll head in for the day.” You spoke after finishing to arrange the xiangqi pieces on the board. March left out an “Oh…” and you could hear the sad face in her voice. Amongst the others, she was the saddest when you chose to sit the Xianzhou Luofu out, as ever since your addition to the crew, you never turned down an adventure. You explained that your bones hurt from the cold of Jarilo-VI and that you needed a rest, and with Stelle at their side, you were sure they would have no problems getting trough this one trail-blazing adventure. Sure, it was a bit of a shock for Himeko and Welt, but to March? It was a tragedy. Her new bestie leaving her behind? She swore the world would end.

“Please, have a safe journey and a swift return.” 

You nodded your head their way before picking up the xiangqi game and reaching for the door. Your fingers grazed the digital pad just in time to hear Dan Heng’s voice behind you. “I will do the same, didn’t quite finish storing the data bank after Jarilo-VI.” 

And so you ended up side by side, walking trough the corridors of the Express. However, as you stepped past his make-shift room, you found his steps synced with yours still and, confused, you turned to face him and painted one of your signature smiles. Fake but pretty all the same. 

“Can I help you, Dan Heng?”

It was exactly that cold yet perfect, more-like-a-painting-than-an-actual-human attitude that made Dan Heng distrust you from the moment you stepped on the Express. You left everything to speculation in a way in which even your clothes were a mass of black and colourless, without any culture behind or any story at all to tell. Always in a bland attire with no accessories at all. March made fun of you for being so tasteless, but he saw past the appearance.  He saw past the way you acted and into the way you wilded your swords like cranes flying in the wind, the way you prepared and steeped tea, and the way you handled xiangqi and go pieces like a native only could.

He peered into your eyes in a way that made you unravel before him without a single word, and he knew it was to hide a side of you that you’ve hidden deeply to the rest. But not quite to him.

And while he was trying to get over a sense of danger in you, fed by your secrecy, you found peace in his presence. Unbeknownst  to him, he was the one thing that reminded you of home and the good in it despite it all. If your memories were filled with torment and loneliness, he was the smell of freshly baked red bean sticky rice cakes in the market, or the sound of wind chimes in the summer rain. He was all of the little things you wanted to push away but found comfort in, and you didn’t know if you loved it or hated him for it.

“Yes, actually.” He nodded. “I find I can’t sleep as of late and I wanted to try one of your calming brews.” You frowned at his words but gave in without asking much, which he greatly appreciated. “Very well, please join me for some tea tonight, then.” And silence settled between you two as you lead him to your cabin with unease rolling off your shoulders. 

Your room was much like your clothes. Simple and colourless besides the coffer next to your bed, which was unmistakably made with the mastery of a Xianzhou artisanship. But if he noticed it, he didn’t speak on it at all, nor about the low table in the middle of the room that was in the same style, or… well really about anything. You appreciated that most. Even when you settled on the table a traditional set of cups, a clear tea spreading the most enchanting and calming aroma from them, he did not speak a single word.

As he drank, his eyes rested on your covered qin that sat atop your bed, and he did not need to speak for you to understand his intentions. You sat down quietly on the covers, revealing the  simple instrument like a truth you’d usually hide from. And he couldn’t help but watch you with sadness in his heart as you tuned the strings with shaky hands ‘till crystal clear notes echoed trough the room. 

You took a heavy inhale and looked upon the dark ebony wood as if greeting an old friend before propping it on your lap, but couldn’t handle to meet Dan Heng’s eyes. At least not when he stared at you as if he knew every single secret you feared to tell. 

As you raised your hands in the air, getting ready to pull at the string, his own palm engulfed your exposed skin in an unspoken plea, and you couldn’t help but give into his warmth. He pulled gently until your face was buried into his shoulder and his other arm was in your hair, and you didn’t even notice it when silent tears begun to stain the fabric of his coat. He didn’t protest nor ever addressed it, and you preferred the feeling of his body against yours to the coldness of his eyes on a normal day. 

As such, you spent the evening together afterwords. Him silently sipping on the calming tea as the sorrowful yet comforting sound of the qin filled your bedroom, until there were no more tears to shed and the pot on the table had gone cold. 

No one wanted to admit it, but it had to be said. Something changed between you and Dan Heng from then on and the first one to notice it was none other than March. 

They were getting ready to leave the express when she stated it for the whole crew to hear. 

“Is it me or are the two of you like, in love or something now?” She arched one of her eyebrows while her lips rested in a scowl. Now, don’t get her wrong she was more than happy for you two if it was the case, but what she could not stand for was the two of you ditching the adventure to enjoy a date over tea and qin music again. 

“March, what kind of nonsense are you onto again?” You huffed with cherry red ears, while Dan Heng choked on the water he was previously drinking. All she could do was wave her hand while saying “yeah yeah,” over and over with a bored face before they set out on their way, but not before Welt pinned the two of you down with a knowing look.

The express stilled with their absence, reinforced by Pom-Pom who claimed to have some cleaning to do somewhere in the Express and Himeko who had some paperwork to finish. The parlour felt almost empty, despite Dan Heng’s presence right next to you. He still held his fist over his mouth as if preparing to cough, cheeks dusted pink and eyes on the starry sky before you, but he didn’t say a word about what happened. And something in you told you to follow his lead. 

You ate quietly at the sticky rice cake you tried your hand baking, and although the taste was very different from what you remembered, it was still as good as ever. With a tissue all crumpled up in your hand, you resulted to watching the sky along side your new friend, eyeing the stars one by one as they passed by. Yet you found your eyes sliding lower and lower from the window to the man before you, who you found already watching you with wide eyes. As if caught in headlights, he stammered out an incoherent string of words but did not move his gaze, not even as his body leaned to yours until his hand grazed your chin. 

You shuddered at his icy touch, but did not dare to move, not even as his fingertips reached for your lips. He gently wiped your lips then brought his thumb to his own mouth, licking off the excess red bean cream from the cake, and you were absolutely sure your face would explode from how hot it get in that very moment. “You had a bit,” He started, but his mouth closed shut when he noticed the dazed stare in your eyes. “Oh aeons, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” His voice shook and his own ears turned scarlet red, only now realising what he has done. You shook your head, head turning  so you could focus on the floor as if the tiles below your feet were now the best sight you have ever seen. “Ah, not at all! I was just surprised, ‘tis all.” Your sweaty palm gripped the tissue tighter. “Would you like some?” And Dan Heng looked at the half eaten cake you extended to him with an expression you’ve ever seen him give March or Stelle. He stared at the cake in his hands with a wholehearted fondness. “Yeah.” Was all he could manage to whisper back.

And somewhere in the back, you swore you heard Himeko giggle to herself. 

The same evening, you would hear three soft knocks on your door in the dead of night. There, in the hallway, with a sweat filled forehead and uneasy complexion, stood Dan Heng, and you would be a fool not to extend a hand to him when he begged for help with his tired eyes. 

“Quit hiding!” The criminal’s voice rang trough your head like a broken mantra. “Your true form… reveal it!” Dan Heng did his best to dodge the maniac attacks, all while you and Yanqing stood in an awkward stalemate in the middle of the platform.

Your blade screeched against Yanqing’s, but it was like fighting fire with fire, simply useless. No matter how lowkey you’ve been upon reaching the Xianzhou, he needed one singular look to know exactly who you were, even underneath the mask that covered the lower half of your face.

“You, little..” You trailed off with effort. Despite his usual sense of justice, that you’ve always commanded, his attacks felt awfully biased as he strikes your blade repeatedly with his icy ones. His technique felt as familiar as home did, her teaching seeping in his bones trough and trough, but so did  your father’s into yours, which you’ve had much more time to perfect than the little lapdog did. 

“Move, you idiot!” And with one harsh push of your blade, the young boy was off his feet, giving you enough time to reach Blade before he could get any damage done on Dan Heng. You yelled with each strike you struggled to par, until his crazy red eyes widened in glee and his sword flew from his hands and right by your chin. The sound of your friend’s cry in agony and the blade tearing trough skin and bone made you pause, and horror struck you as you refused to turn around and to even acknowledge what had happened. “You!” Was all you could let out, sword still pointed straight to Blade’s neck.

“I have news for you.” He laughed, and you took a step back. You would lie if you said your insides didn’t churn with fear, even as he was left completely disarmed before you.

“Behind you… Is none other,” The sound of water engulfed your ears as your head snapped back. “Than the traitor of the Xianzhou. A criminal, forever banished!” Your eyes widened as the barrier around Dan Heng rippled, leaving a water-made dragon to escape with rage all over its face. It roared and turned in the air, coiling until it fell right back to where it came from, and when light and wind filled the platform, you couldn’t help but shield your form with your arms. 

“The High Elder of the Vidyadhara… Imbibitor Lunae.” 

The hold on your sword weakened. You shuddered as the man you grew so attached to revealed himself before you in a form you’ve recognised from your father’s tales. Long silky hair and cold green eyes, horns and tail and lotus flowers and everything that made the Vidyadhara so revered. You could hardly believe your eyes. With a weak step forward, you pulled at the mask to reveal your strained expression, sword falling to your side numbly. 

“You really believed that the Stellaron Hunters were the only ones to infiltrate the Xianzhou?” 

Cold air begun pulling at your hair, and you shook off your stupor when Yanqing begun summoning his ice swords. Your body acted before your mind did at the new threat and your sword was back up within seconds, posture ready for a clash. 

“A wanted criminal, a banished person and a deserter. In this case, I will bring all three of you to justice!” 

The fight ended before it could even begin properly. Yanqing was strong, but Jingliu’s teaching could only get him so far against the three of you. Blade begun striking without mercy, taunting you and Dan Heng for holding back. “What’s wrong, your grace? Scared to harm the boy?” The criminal laughed as you sent only one out of the spirit swords you summoned towards Yanqing. Flashes of electricity begun shining trough your hair with anger, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do more. Not  even when Dan Heng delivered the final strike with a silent apology. 

Yanqing’s knees begun to buckle just as Kafka yelled “All of you, listen to me - stop!” 

You couldn’t help but stumble back, swords falling out of existence as Dan Heng’s feet stepped back on the floor and Blade’s weapon vanished before your eyes. “Well, Bladie? Are you satisfied?” She mused and he only hummed in response. 

“…What did you do?” Dan Heng called after a moment of silence. “Just clearing the stage for the grand entrance. Can’t have the four of you misbehaving in front of the Luofu’s hotshot general.” Your shoulders stiffened as a familiar laughter filled the platform. All heads turned towards the sight, yet you stayed rooted on your feet, back turned and head shaking in denial. “No, not like this.” You whispered. 

“Jing Yuan,” Blade huffed. “General!” Yanqing followed. 

The man stared at the sighed before him with a knowing smile just as you got the courage to turn and face him. If he felt anything upon the sight of you, he did not show it. “Many years have passed since the three of you have departed the Xianzhou, and yet the circumstances of your return appear to be equally unhappy. If you still thought of me as a friend,” His eyes went straight to yours, unspoken words weighting you down as you found it harder and harder to breathe. ‘As family’ was what he wished to say, yet he held back. “You should’ve forewarned me.” 

“My task is complete.” Was all the blade said. “Mhm. That it is.” Your father laughed in return. “Thank you for assisting the Xianzhou in this small matter. Take this person away, I will pretend I didn’t see anything this time.” He stated harshly despite Yanqing’s protest. Jing Yuan then stared at Dan Heng as the two Stellaron Hunters made their way to the boat at the edge of the platform. “It has been a long time, old friend.” But your friend answered harshly. “I’m not him.” 

“Mh. I’m sorry. You cannot leave yet, however. Your astral express friends are still waiting for you in Scalegorge Waterscape. Shall we go and see them together? And you…” The moment you have been trying to prepare yourself for most had arrived, and your father’s smile died on his lips as his eyes analysed your face. 

“I missed you terribly, my sweet flower.” Dan Heng stiffened next to you, but his hand fingertips grazed yours in protectiveness, to which you could only respond by accepting his palm into yours. The familiar nickname brought tears into your eyes, and despite the coldness of his face, your father’s voice felt like a familiar little tune you new by heart. Like a warm hug when you needed it most. How you wished you could’ve just forgotten it all and jumped into his chest, just like how you did when you were nothing but a sprout on two legs. 

“That being said, we will continue this conversation later. I’m afraid your friends might be in trouble, you see.”

You didn’t know how time had passed so fast, more like a blur than anything, truthfully. Your eyes were opened wide on the platform between the Xianzhou and Scalegorge Waterscape, blade in hand and senses aware as you parred each of the attacks your way. Then you blinked, and when you reopened them, a familiar sight greeted you. 

Three cups of steaming green tea on a low rise table, a board of xiangqi and pieces of go scattered all over the table. A sacred silence engulfed the room, besides the occasional sound of the chess pieces falling into place, and none of you could bring yourselves to shatter it just yet. 

Dan Heng watched you play with patience while occasionally bringing the cup to his lips, now back into the form you grew so familiar with. You hated to admit it, but his presence comforted you. It gave you the strength to hold yourself together in a situation in which you would have certainly shattered if alone, and your father’s keen eye did not glass over that fact. 

You sighed peacefully when your chariot was finally occupied in the middle of the palace, on your father’s side, in a perfect centroid checkmate. The man before you leaned back and sighed, a puzzled expression on his face. “You just had to go and get better than me at this game, did you not?” But you didn’t answer. You still didn’t know what to say, really. Were you feeling guilty for deserting your spot as a cloud knight? For leaving your father behind? Or for bailing on your responsibilities as his daughter? Well, no not quite, so apologising for it felt…strained and forced. But one thing felt real as your eyes met his and Dan Heng’s hand reached for yours across the table. You missed him terribly just as much. 

“Every single day that passes shapes you more and more like her.” He added. “I wish you could’ve been by my side for them all.” 

“Jing Yuan…” You whispered back, but he didn’t let you finish. “If your mother was here with us today, I assure you, my sweet flower, that things would have been so different.” For a moment, you could hear nothing but your heart beating against your chest.

“You are just like her. And I truly mean it. Your face, your personality, darn it all even the way you speak. And, as your father, I wish I could’ve offered you a better life.” 

“You did all you could.” Funny how even now, you were the one to reach with a warm heart, how you were the one to comfort and forgive, even when his heart couldn’t yield. 

“Not quite. I was foolish and believed that a firm hand would prepare you for the cruelty of the world. I failed to see, no. I failed to change when I saw that it was harming you more than anything.” You let out a sigh you’ve held in for a very long time and closed your eyes, a last attempt at holding in the tears you wished so disparately to shed. 

“I love you, father. Nothing will ever change that. However,” Despite how your hand shook in Dan Heng’s, your voice stood firm, and as you opened your eyes, both men shivered at their determination. “An apology, no matter how needed, will never make up for what has been. If this is your way of asking me to stay, I fear I’ve made my choice.” 

But his ever knowing smile was back on his lips, and his laughter caught you off guard. Your fingers tightened on Dan Heng’s fingertips, who had stayed quiet as you and your father voiced what both of you ever feared to before. 

“You see, that was not my intention. That being said, if you ever did wish to return, there will always be room for you into my arms, my darling flower.” And you only nodded back, lips slightly parted in surprise. 

“We should head out.” Dan Heng whispered to you after the tea had been finished and the conversation ended. He tapped the skin of your palm with gentle fingers, a quiet way of asking for your attention. His eyes were stricken with tiredness, and you doubted that yours were any better, excusing the puffiness brought by your tears. 

“Ah yes, I forgot!” The general mused. “There is no need to return to that hotel for the night. I asked for your room to be prepared, for you and your lover here. So you could rest comfortably before leaving.” The moment could be best described by a broken record being pulled abruptly from its recorder and screeching in your head. You eyed Dan Heng who refused to meet your gaze and who’s ears became scarlet red once more. “Father!” You protested. “He- He’s not-”

“Save it, [Y/n]. At least invite me if you do ever get married.” 

“Dad!” Shame engulfed you as you pushed Dan Heng out of the room all while the sound of Jing Yuan’s laughter taunted you from behind the doors of the seat of Devine Foresight. You couldn’t help but whisper muffled apologies into your hand that tried to shield your burning face from anyone that would watch, which in truth was as effective as searching for a needle in a haystack. 

What you didn’t expect was for Dan Heng’s hand to find yours and move it away, revealing cherry red cheeks that matched his own. He cleared his voice before leaning in just enough for his breath to fan over your ear as your back met the closed doors behind you. “I would not mind if I was.” He whispered before his velvet soft lips rested against the exposed skin of the back of your palm. You were sure your knees would’ve given in if it wasn’t for his arm that hooked around your waist, bringing you so close to him you shuddered. 

“I really would not mind it.” 

Later that evening, as his teeth grazed your exposed skin before kissing it with sweet words of praise, as your hands intertwined and your bodies became one under the silk sheets of your bed, you could tell that your heart began singing a familiar tune. With each kiss from Dan Heng’s, a new feeling invaded your senses. You were home. Here with him, in this very moment. You were home in his arms. 

And you wouldn’t changed it for anything else. 

Yes, not even as March yells “I fucking knew it!” the next morning, for the whole of Xianzhou Luofu to hear, upon seeing your neck caked in love marks you had no means of hiding and your hand held tightly by Dan Heng, who only smiled back to everyone as you buried your face into his chest with shame. 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Favors and Debts

Part II

Pairing: fae!Yuji/Sukuna x reader

Warnings: noncon, yandere, a bit of smut, murder, captivity, stalking, violence (not towards reader), Sukuna having a purity kink.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Of all creatures fickle and cruel, the fair folk are the ones inspiring fear and awe alike. You were unlucky enough to save one of them from captivity, and now you must pay for it.

Part I

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He lied to you. Since the night he ordered all his captors slaughtered, he has been following you like a shadow, waiting for you to slip up and finally let him in. Have you drown in your nightmares until you'd crack under pressure and take down your door clad in iron, throw away the mirrors of all shapes and sizes hanging down the walls of your tiny apartment.

You have resisted thus far. You've learned to live with a wicked fae breathing down your neck.

At first, you only saw him in your dreams. A response to a severe trauma, the doctors said, nodding knowingly. You haven't told them Yuji was one of the little folk: it was futile. Men of science would think you damaged beyond repair if you believed in elves and fairies. An abused man dreaming of revenge for 7 long years? Now, this was something. Of course, he could have found accomplices. Of course, they could have murdered men and women of the village. You kept quiet, letting police and doctors make their own conclusions. Nothing could be done to help dead villagers, anyway.

Then, one day, the fae boy came to the apothecary, where you worked as a junior pharmacist. He has been wearing the face of an unremarkable city man who needed his stomach pills. When you turned away to the shelves and reached for them, he caged you with his body, somehow slipping through the counter, and murmured against your ear, "I'll eat your heart, little bird."

When you turned around in frenzy, hands shaking, expecting to find Yuji with his six horrifying hands ready to tear you apart, you found only an average-looking city man trying to hide a yawn behind the counter. He wasn't a fae. He was human, just like you, and yet Yuji found a way into him like found a way in your dreams.

You were never alone. He has been watching you like a hawk, making sure you never grew close to anyone, especially not men. Once there was a handsome boy with whom you exchanged pleasantries far too many times for fae's liking, and he took over him for a couple of seconds, face changing to Yuji's, black symbols appearing on his skin as he looked you up and down, the corners of his mouth tugged just slightly upward. "Keep yourself pure for me," the fae whispered into your ear as you stood frozen, afraid to move until the boy became himself again.

Least to say, you could afford having neither lovers nor friends. God knows what that fae would do to them if he could force himself into their bodies without much of a struggle.

Sometimes, you dreamt of different Yuji. That Yuji was just a kind fatherless boy who made jokes when you bandaged his hands and thanked you so sincerely when you gave him the ointment for treating his wounds. He nealry cried when you brought him your food and hid his face in his palms out of shame for having to rely on a young woman's pity. He was gentle with horses and dogs, and they flocked to him like he was their master, only enraging the villagers further.

Although you tried not to think of it much, you missed that boy. If it were him visiting your dreams, you wouldn't even mind.

The years are flying by, and soon the promised time will be up, but you aren't afraid. Your room is full of iron and mirrors. The door and every window are lined with a thick layer of salt. There's a sack of dried rowan berries under your pillow. Your stomach doesn't let you have as much sleeping pills as you like, but dreams are just dreams. He can't drag you away through them to his realm, or he would've done it already.

But it's the last night of the seventh year, and when you are running the streets of the city back to your safe heaven, you know you aren't asleep this time, the fairy catching up with you, his speed utterly terrifying. You barely have time to fly up the stairs, trying to lock your heavy door, but he is behind you, forcing you inside: the gushes of wind swipe the layers of salt you so cautiously poured on the floor, and the mirrors fall down the walls, all cracking like they're made of thin ice.

"I've waited for so long for you to show me the way," he says in a low voice, a grin lightening up his handsome features, and you see he is no longer a boy but a man, his shoulders a mile wide, his two heavy arms splitting in six again in front of your very eyes. "I have been patient, little bird."

You weren't, you want to say, but your tongue is numb, and so is your body as the fae advances on you, reaching out his many hands to place them on your face, your waist, and your hips. He seems content with how much you tremble before him.

"The brat misses you," he whispers, his hand tender on your chin as he makes you look up at him, and you raise your brows, unsure you heard him right. He laughs as you. "The boy. Yuji."

You blink. Isn't Yuji just a false name the villagers gave a fae to hide his true one? Why does he refer to him as his own person?

Because he is, the realization strikes you.

"Are you using Yuji's body?" You whimper, eyes already wet as you think of the tremendous difference between a gentle boy in the barn and a cruel creature taunting you in your dreams.

The fae smiles back at you, his face inches away from yours.

"If only you knew how much he pleads me to let you go," he bares his sharp teeth at you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey. "Poor child. He's been in love with you ever since you kicked away that iron girdle."

Horrified, you feel blood rushing to your head as you frantically think what to say, not realizing the fae keeps nudging you towards your bed, towering over you like a giant, mirrors coming further apart under his feet. His fingers are rough and calloused, but he is strangely gentle as if a part of him wishes you well. Is it him? Yuji, the kind boy, trying not to hurt you? Or is it his frightening master trying to trick you into submission?

When the fae lifts up your cotton dress, he tenderly strokes your skin until he reaches your waist, relief strangely washing over his sharp features. "You aren't wearing a girdle."

Biting down on your lips, you look at your ceiling, tears trailing down your cheeks. You thought of it. Iron was convenient to use against the fair folk, and many maidens in fairytales wore them as a protection against the fae charming their way in girls' bedrooms. Surely, with your rooms stuffed full of anything made of iron, it only made sense to wear something as well. And yet... and yet every time you went to blacksmith to commission a piece, you thought of wounded Yuji, his face pale, palms bleeding from the iron girdle forced into his hands.

In the end, you never bought it.

"My pliant little bird," he whispers against your bare skin and you squeeze your eyes shut, thinking how foolish you were to believe you can fend him off with your heavy iron door and mirrors hanging down your walls.

He lays you on your bed, carefully avoiding its iron frame, and soon you realize you are no longer in your room, your bed simply levitating somewhere in the dark, the fae your only companion. You're gone. Your time is finally up, and no one will save you from the monster who has been chasing you since the night you freed him from his shackles.

"Why are you cruel to me?" You ask him in a small voice, head on the pillow as he caresses the inner side of your thighs. "I've done you no wrong."

The fae laughs, "Cruel? You are to wed the Fairy King, little girl. I'll even give you that human brat as a wedding present. Now, stop crying and spread your pretty legs for me."

THE END

__________

Tags: @minshookie29

[merakiui]

we know and love our breeding obsessed tweels .. but there’s an obvious candidate whom I haven’t seen given much attention.. and it’s our favourite apple <3

back in harveston, it’s been mentioned how there isn’t much youngins around .. apart from epel and his cousin .. but in terms of ppl his age??? 0 … so it’d be easy for his family to talk him into stuffing you full and getting you pregnant when you come visit one day… you don’t know that epel secretly introduced you to his family as his wife .. and that the analytical eyes they give you and your body was bcs they wanted to see just how many kids you could handle birthing naturally at a time… truly terrifying how they put this much thought into the time you need to rest before being full with his baby again .. bcs they don’t do hospitals but instead the women in the family use their knowledge (midwivery) to advise you </3

aa just the thought of epel and his family peer pressuring you into giving them kids and continuing the family line has you feeling all guilty </3 like it doesn’t matter what u want bcs you’d be doing it for the betterment of the village! how they convince u that eventually, when u become a mother, you’d find happiness that comes w it .. (silly reader … your choice and wants never even mattered in the first place! bcs if you showed resistance they’d just drug u and put u to sleep w epel’s unique magic and get u pregnant anyways </3)

truullyyy terrifying! beware of dear grandma’s sad puppy dog eyes knowing u refuse to give her great-grandkids! (lies … she knows what she’d doing </3)

also! can I be epel felmier anon? 🍎💜

OMG THE SOMNO POTENTIAL WITH EPEL'S UM........ how could I have missed it,,, it's literally called Sleep Kiss. T_T uuuwaaaa Epel wanting to practice his UM and you agree to let him practice it on you because surely it won't have any negative impacts, right? But he puts you to sleep and somno ensues...... or he puts you to sleep and the other first years are around as well. >_< you're like a practice pussy for them......

If anyone's going to gaslight and manipulate you into having children, it's all of Harveston. ;;;;; and most of them do it unintentionally. They just think it's so darling Epel has a best friend (read: wifey) like you who is the sweetest thing they've ever met. You and Epel make such a cute couple (of hopefully expecting parents). All of Harveston dotes on you, showering you with affection every time you visit. You're practically part of the village by now. Whenever you come to visit, whether for a holiday or a break, Marja always welcomes you with open arms, as does the rest of Epel's family. But it's Marja who is especially pleased to see you. She checks you over, asks if you've been eating well at NRC, asks if Epel's been looking out for and taking care of you, and so on.

I feel like the entire village would throw such a huge celebration when you finally become pregnant. They make such an event out of it; it startles you at first, but Epel explains this is just because there are so few children around and everyone, especially the elders, are so very excited to finally see the village grow and become more lively with young folks! You'll have everyone's full support before, during, and after your pregnancy! They are just so fond of you and are always encouraging you to eat lots (of foods that improve fertility, but you don't need to know that...).

[natalyarose]

𝒜𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 & 𝒮𝓎𝓂𝒷𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒸 𝒜𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓎 - 𝕍𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕜𝕙𝕒 🐅🌸

using Mid-Mula Galactic Center ayanamsa ♥

Hey! So, many have fallen in love with the way Vedic astrology can be applied to understand appearance & symbolism in peoples' lives, and it constantly amazes me how much it makes sense. People have done a lot of phenomenal work analysing appearance & peoples' lives through Nakshatras, but I noticed that in a lot of these studies and compilations, there will be a couple of people included who kinda- don't fit? I've since learnt that it seems almost every time someone deviates from the patterns despite seemingly having the same placements; they are in fact a different Nakshatra when Applying Mid-Mula Galactic Center Ayanamsa. As always, I have no desire to pressure anyone else into using the same calculation, it's a personal journey- but I do aim to highlight the patterns I've seen 🩵

In this post I'm focusing on Vishakha natives- specifically Vishakha women; but you'll find a lot of these things apply to Vishakha men too anyway.

Vishakha Nakshatra is the Tiger yoni 🐅 As we know, tigers are fierce, they are known to be some of the strongest, fastest animals in the jungle & natives to Vishakha reflect that. Vishakha is known as 'the star of purpose'. Natives can feel an intense, passionate drive to fulfil a vision, or a sense of destiny. Being Jupiter ruled (the planet of expansion, fame, fortune, wisdom) & ruled by the powerful Vedic God, Indra 'King of the Gods'; Vishakha natives find themselves in a prime energetic position to have major influence . Once they find their footing in their career/goal, they can have major success and incredible power. Vishakha shines brightly in its courage, strength, power and influence.

You'll notice in the examples below, the intense focus & determined look in the eyes of Vishakha natives- like a tiger ready to pounce lol.

I've noticed Vishakha women (likely due to the Tiger yoni) often enjoy leopard or tiger print, so I've shown that in my examples. Also; I acknowledge that using examples who've had work done can be misleading so I've tried to balance it out!

Three of the women in this post are Swati Nakshatra in Lahiri- namely Priscilla, Kylie & Kendall; and I wanted to show them alongside other Vishakha ladies to demonstrate the significance of considering Mid-Mula Galactic Center ayanamsa.

𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂 - 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 (Swati in Lahiri) I've seen a strong theme of Vishakha women being known for their marriage. In fact, despite Vishakha & Jupiter's independent determined nature, Vishakha natives can intensely prioritise their marriage (Swati in contrast is loving, but not as enthused by the thought of being 'tied down'). The determination can be channelled into doing everything possible to make their marriages and other partnerships work out. Vishakha's connection to marriage is seen through its symbol being 'a triumphant archway'; directly related to the decorative archways we see in marriage celebrations & victory ceremonies.

While she of course had her own vibrant career; Priscilla was and still is especially famous for her marriage to Elvis. The most famous photos of her being her gorgeous self on their wedding day. It is said that Vishakha natives can get married young, which is true of Priscilla. Vishakha women often end up being the provider in partnerships- literally or emotionally. She is famous for her beauty also which can be a theme with Vishakha since it is mostly in sidereal Libra- associated with beauty, love, partnerships, etc.

𝓛𝓪𝓷𝓪 𝓓𝓮𝓵 𝓡𝓮𝔂 - 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽 Lana is another Vishakha woman who gives it all in relationships and we hear of this through her music. She also has that incredibly wide breadth of influence we see with Jupiter Nakshatras (especially Vishakha)- there are a lot of people who have achieved a level of fame, but having influence over the people to the point that you are worshipped is a different thing; and Lana has it. Vishakha's Shakti, meaning its power, is to achieve. The abundance this woman has in the way of creativity, wealth, power, intelligence, etc. is very Vishakha- Vishakha is directly associated with the word victory etymology-wise too.

Lana worked hard for years pursuing her goals in music; and of course that hard work came to fruition.

𝓚𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓙𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻 - 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 (Swati in Lahiri). I have seen research floating around on how Vishakha natives can often have a 'glow up' of sorts where they really take charge of their image and actively choose to embody an extremely seductive energy. Achieving magnetic power through their appearance. This is seen in Kylie's famous 'reinvention'. Again, she radiates this intensity, purpose, is very business driven etc. Whilst Swati radiates this airy sweetness, Vishakha radiates Lord Indra & Jupiter's sheer sense power & easily inspires a sense of worship from people.

𝓚𝓪𝓽𝔂 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 - 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 & 𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓾𝓶 (Swati Sun however- but notice how she has the more 'air-y' quality that the others don't due to this placement?) Katy Perry is another star who in her 'prime time' of fame was more than just another famous person; she had hugeee influence the way we see in Vishakha. Little girls everywhere were singing her songs & she was inescapable on the radio (not that that's a bad thing lol, her songs are vibes). Her song 'roar' and the video to it is incredibly Vishakha but also Swati- the song is in essence about getting back up on your feet and being determined even when someone knocks you down. I talked about in this write-up how in Swati there is a direct theme of natives being discouraged and needing to have faith in themselves and remember their gifts. In Vishakha there is a full embodiment of this power.

Aside from that, of course the song being called 'Roar' & the tiger/leopard/jungle imagery is as Vishakha as it gets!

𝓑𝓮𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 - 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 I confess, I really don't know much about Beyonce but I do know that she's got an incredible amount of influence! She is often referred to as the 'Queen'; which makes direct sense since Vishakha's ruler (Indra) is the king of the gods, so there is this theme of Vishakha energy being regarded as godly again. She is known for her incredibly powerful vocals too which we see a lot in Jupiter Nakshatras, Jupiter ruling the throat & the element of 'sound'. Beyonce and her marriage to Jay-Z is very famous, them both being artists in the public eye.

𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓙𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻, 𝓥𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓱𝓪 𝓢𝓾𝓷 (Swati in Lahiri) - side note that I've noticed all of the Kardashian sisters have a strong Tiger yoni Nakshatra in their chart with the exception of Kourtney. Kim with Chitra Sun & Mercury in Vishakha as her chart ruler, Kylie with Vishakha Moon, Kendall with Vishakha Sun, Khloe with Vishakha Mars ruling her Sun in Dhanishta & Moon in Mrigasira... I don't know much about the Kardashians aside from what's obvious in the media, but I found this so interesting and telling of the power and influence prominent Vishakha/tiger yoni natives can fall into. Of course, Kendall really embodies Vishakha appearance-wise too.

Something cool to think about is that while Vishakha is so intimately connected to themes of beauty, power, infIuence, achievement, success & abundance, it is interestingly a Mleccha nakshatra; meaning 'outcaste'. As one can deduct from the name, Mleccha nakshatras are associated with 'shunning' and being a social pariah, even being regarded as animalistic. Mleccha Nakshatras deviate from the crowd in some way, they make a statement. It makes sense that a Mleccha Nakshatra be strongly associated with fame & influence, since those who are truly influential must be doing something original, or 'different' to what's already been seen/done. Even if that simply means being controversial. I've seen themes of Mleccha heavy people being shamed for their more 'outside the box' nature, and then getting their 'revenge' in a sense, later gaining extreme abundance due to that very same quality they were initially outcasted for.

I'll have to do a more formal/in depth write up on Vishakha sometime, this was more of a casual post to highlight the ayanamsa discrepancy and some connections.

I hope this is enjoyed by/interesting to someone! ♡

[balkanradfem]

Learning more about animals made me think about an interesting comparison on how we decide to reproduce, compared to how animals do it.

In the wild, animals will usually reproduce less, or simply survive less and thus do less populating, if the habitat isn't suitable for them, temperature is wrong, and if they don't have enough reliable food sources. Sometimes they will be able to adapt to a different habitat and temperature, like having their reproduction cycle delayed or done in a different time of year so that their young would survive, but if there's no food source, they'll reproduce in smaller numbers.

This is why sometimes animals will overpopulate the areas near humans, if they're able to access people's food storage, trashbags and pantries, it will give them a great, fulfilling source of food and thus an incentive to reproduce as much as they want to - after all, there's food for everyone.

But with humans, it's like we don't even pay attention to that. Or rather, our reproduction is governed by culture that isn't built around human needs and quality of life. We're taught that we need to reproduce, especially if we're women, because:

everyone else is doing it and it's the only normal thing to do

if we don't do it we're failing to contribute to future society

we're going to be an outcast if we don't do it

we're going to end up alone and unloved if we don't do it

there's a limited time frame in which we can do it, and if we don't we might regret it later

there's intense pressure all around us from our peers, relatives, family, cousins and others to do it, and they are all assuming we will and ask us why

if we don't we're contributing to extinction of the human species

we're supposed to want to do it

we're threatened of missing out on a fulfilled life if we don't do it

we're depicted as wasted potential if we don't do it

we're told it's what we exist for and it should be our only purpose to do it

And this fails to take into account absolutely everything that comes into being with creating human life. We aren't supposed to pay attention to the amount and quality of food that we have, to the state of the habitat all around us (if we can even access the information about it), the amount of energy, free time and willingness we have to nurture and raise a human child, or what kind of life this child can have in a world like this. It's almost like we're pushed to be more mindless than animals, reproducing simply because it's the thing that is done, rather than assessing the situation and making a reasonable call of whether someone should be living in a world in this state.

So whose idea was it to create a culture like this, who benefits from it? The answer is very simple, m*n. Just from looking at the culture they developed, it's obvious they don't care about the quality, length, or resources put into a new human's life, all they care about is producing as much offspring as possible, regardless of circumstances. All of the beliefs I've mentioned above, that are forced onto women, come from that simple-minded desire: let us multiply uncontrollably. That's also where the idea of taking away womens choices comes from; it makes it all male choice. They can decide for a woman, whether she'll have a child or not, giving them absolute control over human reproduction, while they clearly do not care what kind of society this builds or what are the consequences for the said children.

When this control is put into women's hands, all of these circumstances are taken into account. Quality of environment, available funds, food, energy, human influence, the amount of danger and threat to the child, the climate, the chance of that child having a safe and happy life, woman will be aware of all of this, because she is the one who will make sure that child stays alive and well. Fathers can ignore all of this because they know mothers will take on this labour on themselves if given no other options.

I've read recently, on how human lifespan increased so grandmothers would be able to take care of their grandchildren, giving the parents more time to work and care for themselves, and isn't it interesting? How only women were ever expected to do that. Every grandfather I've heard of was not only incapable of taking care of a child, but also incapable of taking care of himself, burdening his wife with his every need until his death. Often, they were also a danger to the children (not every single time, but often enough to be mentioned).

And we're stuck in the world where they're the ones making the calls to create more children endlessly, all while ignoring the circumstances of that child's life, and doing massive acts of violence, wars, terrorism, destruction and devastation of human life worldwide, ultimately killing both mothers and children.

It feels wrong on every level that anyone except women should have authority on human life, when to reproduce and in which circumstances. We have to endure devastating trauma and pain, intrusion in our own bodies and risk of death to make just one person. We evolved to live longer in order to take care of children, to create a better environment for them to live in, and we should let someone else make the call? It's insane.

Not only women should have the ultimate say in this, for the sake of quality of human life and the environment, but all of the culture surrounding reproduction should change. Making children in a world where we can't care for, feed and protect them isn't normal. Not paying attention to whether a creation of a child will only cause extra suffering to the child, is not how we create a future our children can live happily in. Males spreading their broken dna is not worth creating a human society that is built up on suffering, and will lead into more suffering.

[pablitogavii]

Panic

Everyone around you kept telling you 'he will cheat' or 'you'll never be enough for him' or 'he's probably thinking about those instagram models' and it was all you could think about.

What if they were right?? You were just a normal every day girl and Pablo had grown women on their knees for his attention. All of this was giving you so much anxiety!

"Good evening señora Y/l/n. How are you?" Pablo asked politely as your mom welcomed him inside smiling at his kindness. Unlike all your friends, your parents were very supportive of your relationship with the young football star.

"I'm doing pretty well Pablo, but Y/n is worrying me these days..she's barely eating and doesn't leave her room unless it's to go to school. I don't know what's wrong with my babygirl" woman said and Pablo got curious now also starting to worry what was going on since you haven't told him anything.

He's been busy last could of days preparing for champions league so you only had to face time before bed but you still didn't say something was bothering you.

"I will talk to her, don't worry. I am sure everything will be alright." Pablo smiled kindly walking upstairs where your room is at knocking at your door.

"Amor? Are you sleeping preciosa??" Pablo asked peeking into the dark room seeing you cuddled up on the bed with your phone in your hand highlighting your face.

"Pablo!!!" you said excitedly moving the blanket and opening your arms welcoming him in and he chuckled closing the door and laying besides you scooping you in his arms.

"How are you preciosa? Todo bien?" he said and you tried to fake a smile which he saw right through asking you the same question again making you sigh.

"Um..I'm feeling very anxious lately cariño.." you admit feeling tears collecting in your eyes already and he sits up a bit wanting to be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke.

"Why is that amorcito? Something happened at school or is it something about us?" he said and you got scared to answer. In your past relationship saying that something was wrong meant long hours of constant arguence.

"Um..it's nothing..don't worry about it Pablo" you try to dodge the subject but he wouldn't let you especially after hearing how worried your mom was about your health.

"If it makes you anxious, then it's something I want to worry about. It's alright, preciosa. You can tell me anything, I promise. Bueno?" he caressed you hair while speaking in a soothing tone that made you more relaxed.

"Um..everyone tells me that you will cheat..that I am not enough for you because you're a footballer..and..and I know that's not who you are but..I get scared..and then I panic" you were mumbling the last part afraid that Pablo will take offense but instead he held you tighter pulling your chin up and kissing your lips lovingly.

"Is this why you weren't eating and taking care of yourself huh princesa?" he asked holding your face gently and you nodded your head.

"And then..then I read today that Neymar cheated on his pregnant girlfriend for the second time because they sent it to me..so I just felt sick..and um I couldn't eat anything." you spoke feeling dumb for comparing someone else to Gavi who you knew loved you purely but constant pressures from the sides made you go crazy.

"Amor..listen to me. I know you're my smart girl and you already know this but every man is different and it also depends on the type of relationship he is in with a girl. Most of my friends don't want anything serious because they want that crazy lifestyle while they're young. Joder, I was the same until I met you at that coffee shop and you spilled tea into my lap..I fell in love with you amor. That's different from being attracted to you or thinking you're pretty. It's something worth staying loyal to and I would never do anything to hurt you my sweet girl..I could not bare it. All I want to do is hold you in my arms and protect you from their poisonous words!" Pablo finished hugging you tight and you sighed finally pushing those thought out of your mind and focusing on his words instead. You believed him completely, and you knew you both loved each other unconditionally.

"Are you mad at me now?" you ask fearfully looking up at his still very much soft eyes as he gave you a small smile.

"Why would I be mad amor?" he asked and once again your past relationship made you assume he would be toxic which he is not at all.

"Um..b..because I let them get into my head" you say and he shakes his head while kissing your forehead.

"No, I'm not mad because I get it. Hearing someone constantly saying something will happen makes you worried that it just might. They are jealous of us amor. They don't want us together because they can't have what we have with each other. But no way in hell am I going to let their poisonous words destroy the purest love i felt for someone in my life!" Pablo said and now you were the one who moved up and kissed his lips passionately.

"Neither will I...I'll stop talking to every single one of them. There is no one I care about more than you cariño. Tu eres mi vida." you say and Pablo kissed you again nodding his head in agreement.

"Whenever you need reassurance, just tell me preciosa..I will always give it to you." he promised and you smiled nodding your head and nuzzling it into his neck.

"Te amo Pablito.." you sigh in relief glad that was finally over and he was right there with you.

"Yo te amo muchisimo princesita" he said and the two of you cuddled up in silence for a few minutes. Shortly after, your stomach was rumbling and the two of you giggled because of it.

"Um..maybe we can have some dinner now??" you ask and he chuckled getting up and grabbing your head while walking downstairs.

"Mamá! I'm a bit hungry..is there any dinner" you say and the woman looked so relieved smiling at Pablo who nodded his head glad he could do something to help.

"Yes, it's done. And she already told us what you can eat on your diet, so don't you worry Pablo" she answered as you followed after her to the dinning room sitting at the table.

"Muchas gracias. Looks delicioso" Pablo said really loving the fact that he felt so comfortable with your family just as you do with his.

"Hopefully tastes the same! Bon appetite!" she said bringing the food while you and Pablo held hands underneath the table looking at each other longingly. It made you wonder how could you ever believe such stupid nonsense your fake friends told you.

It's really horrible what happened to Bruna again..I'm speechless but praying for her and her daughter to be finally happy <3

[swp2023]

SWP Account

TW: transphobia, transmisogyny, SA, gaslighting/manipulation, general trotskyist bullshit

I first joined the SWP as a minor during the Honor Oak demos. When I attended one of the protests for the first time in May 2023, I knew fairly little about the British left and its intricacies. I joined at a time when I was incredibly vulnerable - I was an isolated trans teenager with a poor home and school life and few friends. I initially joined SUTR but was soon syphoned into the SWP and became a formal member around 1.5 months in. After four months I was lucky enough to meet people outside of the party, find my own systems of support, and start drifting away from them. At the beginning of October I formally left the party and rescinded my membership. I essentially speedran the process. I know that I am not the first to come forward about their experiences in the SWP, and that my account won’t be as horrific or traumatic as others’. But the more I sit with the memories of spending time in the SWP, the more frustrated and angry I become with how poorly I was treated, especially as a trans teenager. A while ago, I compiled a list of everything I could recall about being in the party and its impact on me, and I’m hoping sharing it will draw more awareness to the extent that the Socialist Workers Party hasn’t changed and actively poses a threat to young activists. 

Structural/Functional Problems

Most people are aware of the SWP’s overt focus on recruitment, but within the party it’s even worse than it looks from the outside. Recruitment processes target those new to activism, especially young women and queer people. On multiple occasions, SWP leaflets were purposefully plastered outside my secondary school and other schools in the area. Once you’re involved with the party in any capacity, there’s a lot of pressure to ensure you formally join - if you’re not a member, within a month you’ll have membership papers being shoved in your face constantly. The worst instance of this was when I attended Marxism over the summer while I was in quite a bad place. I ended up having a breakdown in a corner of SOAS, and someone walked up to me when I was visibly upset and somehow tried to use it as a recruitment opportunity. Although far from the worst of their faults, the recruitment means the party is incredibly stagnant and frankly, boring. The same meetings repeat over and over, the same discussions are held, conferences are repetitive and demos are attended only for the purposes of recruiting or selling papers. 

The general attitude towards other, non-SWP activists is extremely condescending and patronising, especially in both formal and informal discussions of anarchism and grassroots organising. I consistently heard anarchists being reduced to a violent, ineffective group of rag tag young un’s who don’t know what they’re doing. I think it must have been in their handbook to describe anarchism as “grabbing 15 of your mates and beating up fascists”, because I heard that exact phrasing used at least twice. The belief that the SWP’s unwritten values and structures are the only correct ones runs deeply, and since I was a teenager my age was often used to dismiss my actions as immature or naive. I was told I was being pretentious for wearing a mask at demos - I’d been doxxed before and was looking out for my safety but apparently this made me appear “hostile and unwelcoming”. 

I can’t emphasise enough how much everyone in the SWP is treated as disposable unless you work for them. They don’t care about arrestee support, accountability, or building safe environments. I was a trans teenager so I looked good for their party, but ultimately they couldn’t care less what I had to say and I was often shut down or told my ideas weren’t appropriate. The SWP consistently seizes the politics of individuals’ marginalised identities to create a more appealing facade, while also discarding the same individuals as soon as they are no longer politically convenient. 

Lack of Accountability

From the beginning, it was clear that there were zero helpful routes for complaints or conflict resolution. I asked multiple times at meetings what their explicit process was for dealing with internal issues, and at best I got an off-hand mention to the central committee. Mostly I was shut down right away and told it wasn’t the right time to ask - a better time never became apparent. There is zero transparency and it didn’t take me too long to realise that I had no faith in anyone in the party to protect me or listen to me if something went south. You’ll hear them talk about their “disputes committee”, which was established as a response to the Comrade Delta coverup, but despite all the time I spent in the party I still have no idea who’s in this committee, how to access it, or whether it’s ever successfully resolved a dispute. 

No one talks about the coverup. This isn’t too surprising but every time I tried to ask about it, I was met with the same awkward dismissal. It’s creepy how everyone who’s been in the party for a while feeds you the same “that was a long time ago and we’ve changed and learned from it” schtick. Even a month in the party would be enough to show you that this isn’t true. The process of covering up the reputational damage from Comrade Delta is very much still active and the more time you spend around them, the more subtly intrinsic it becomes to everything you do. I was walking with a paid member of the SWP and watched him slap an SWP “trans rights now” sticker over one that read “the SWP protects rapists in their party”. No organisation that’s suitably addressed its failures should feel so threatened by the reminder of them. 

More widely, there are never any internal criticisms of the party. When I was in, I was in deep. I went to their weekly meetings, their organising meetings, their conferences - I went to fucking marxism. Not once did I hear a natural critique arise, there’s a complete lack of self awareness. It isn’t an environment where you’d feel comfortable expressing criticisms, and this has led to an echo chamber of sorts in which many members are incapable of conceiving themselves or the party as imperfect. It’s a dangerous amount of self-assuredness and this attitude allows for a culture of racism and bigotry to underlie the party’s supposedly anti-racist fronts - microaggressions don’t get called out, racism gets excused especially in the predominantly white spaces. There aren’t any attempts to actually foster anti-racist mindsets or incorporate it into how they organise, it’s largely just for external presentation and again, recruitment. 

Any issues that do get brought up are met with absurd amounts of gaslighting and guilt tripping. The party runs on guilt and censorship. If you ask too many questions people start acting cold or frame your comment as needlessly confrontational. Even now, I still struggle to process a lot of what happened because I was constantly told it was normal, that I was overreacting, that because I was relatively new to activism I didn’t know what I was talking about. 

Transphobia and Transmisogyny

As I’ve mentioned, my main involvement in the party was based around my identity as a trans youth, but there was very little regard for my safety as it pertained to this. For instance, without any warning a parcel was sent to my house with my chosen name on it. This put me in a bad situation because my parents hated the thought of me going by another name, I had to lie and endure my home life temporarily getting much worse. When I brought it up with someone I trusted in the SWP, it was dismissed without so much as an apology for putting me in a dangerous situation. I spoke to another trans ex-member about this and they told me about going through the exact same thing a few years back - the SWP doesn’t learn or change. 

There is consistent, blatant transphobia in the party. There were too many occurrences to list out here, but it’s so profoundly endemic to the party that I spent a considerable amount of time feeling uncomfortable and objectified. I had someone tell me they wouldn’t use they/them pronouns because “it’s too hard”. I was constantly misgendered, and although it was sometimes a careless mistake it was often very clearly intentionally weaponised. Almost every time it happened there was someone in the room who knew me well enough to know what my pronouns were and correct the mistake, but that never happened. No one stood up for me. 

There’s explicit transmisogyny. In addition to being generally misgendered and sexualised, trans women are often referred to with they/them pronouns and as a “person”. There was a trans woman quite deeply involved with the party who I spoke with a few times, she often got dismissed when she contributed at conferences and one time, a cis dude fully stood up and started talking over her while the chair of the meeting allowed it to happen. 

Contrary to what the SWP would have you believe, there just aren’t many trans people in the party. Certainly not a proportionate amount when compared to the wider left, which isn’t surprising once you’ve experienced being trans in there - there aren’t any attempts to make you feel any less isolated, ostracised, or used. There are, however, plenty of cis people who think that just because they’ve attended a trans demo or two they know more about the experiences of trans people than we do. 

I want to note that all the transphobia I experienced and witnessed took place while London branches of the SWP were spending their time at HO trans rights demos, handing out their placards, using it for recruitment, and taking credit for the work that was mainly being done by grassroots activists. Transphobia is just one example of how hollow their ideals are. 

Non-Existent Consent Culture

When I was sitting in a conference at SOAS, a man I didn’t know sat next to me and ran his hand down my back while we were talking, and then repeatedly tried to scoot closer to me when I moved away. 

A different time, someone tried to get me to sit close enough to them so that our legs were touching. 

Both of these incidents were extremely creepy and uncomfortable, and just to be clear: I was visibly/openly a minor during both. 

In general, physical contact is heavily normalised and sort of expected. There was always an expectation that you’d hug people, that you were okay with being patted on the back or having an arm around your shoulders or whatever. I always felt uncomfortable with this and although some people were fine with it and people’s intentions weren’t always harmful, there’s just generally zero consent culture and most times I wouldn’t have felt comfortable saying no. 

When I was in a transition phase of technically still being in the SWP but trying to spend as little time around them as possible, one of them came up to me at a demo (where, for the record, I’d just been through quite a traumatic incident - not that it should have to matter) and tried to pull me in for a hug without asking. When I flinched away without saying anything other than “hi”, she later commented to a comrade that I was being rude. The persistent entitlement to my body and my consent was disgusting. 

Exit Process

When I started spending less time with the SWP and more time with anarchists and antifascists, they were semi-aware of it so I got lots of calls and messages purporting to be “checking in”, but the undertone was very much “why aren’t you standing with us at demos anymore”. No one ever checked in on me when I was properly in the party. One of the calls was particularly lengthy and pretty much summed up to “we feel like you’re drifting away, we really miss you and you’re our comrade” - more guilt tripping. The feeling that I was trapped because I was constantly being contacted and approached at demos was bad enough to make me actively suicidal. 

The final breaking point for me was a conversation that happened in the South London SWP group chat that had reached an intolerable level of censorship. Someone, very politely, complained about how the branch had made a commitment to doing hybrid meetings but consistently struggled to actually have working tech/mics/etc. They also suggested a possible solution. They got shut down with a curt “our main focus has to be in the room rather than on our phones”, a comment that rightfully got called out as being explicitly ableist, especially since the following messages implied that attending online was insufficient or lazy. This conversation was concerning enough, but the original person then got told they “sounded harsh” (they didn’t - I’ve seen more lively conversations in my extended family’s whatsapp group), and was explicitly told to delete their message. I finally had a good answer to what happens when you criticise anything the SWP does, and this was a fairly mild criticism too. 

Then, a comrade I know very gently expressed their support for the original person - literally just said that they agreed with them and didn’t think they were being harsh. This comrade (also a teen) got two separate DMs telling them that they “misunderstood” what was happening and to delete their message as well. The hierarchies and power structures within the SWP are so obviously corrupt, and this whole incident just made that much more clear to me. 

I sent a final message on this chat, calling out the patterns of behaviour I’d noticed and advising people to do what I had - take a step back and look at who actually gets listened to in the party, at the corruption that’s so deeply rooted in it. Then I left that chat. The next day I was removed from every SWP-related chat I was in - fine by me, I was done. I did get sent one DM telling me that I had misread the situation, was overreacting, etc. It was incredibly infantilizing and blamed the fact that I’d been associating with other people as the reason I’d formed these opinions - clearly the SWP was reliant on my isolation. 

I was out of the chats but I did get the aforementioned comrade to update me on the aftermath, which was mostly damage control. The upcoming conference got plugged, people talked shit about me for being immature and overreacting. I’ve got screenshots of this incident in particular but I honestly don’t think they’re too worth sharing. I firmly believe that painting the bigger picture of the party and how and why it operates like this is much more important. 

I’d say I made it very clear that I wanted nothing more to do with the SWP and its members, but to this day I still have issues with them at demos. I’ve had people come up to me and try to touch me in various ways - hugs, back pats, etc - that I’ve expressed I’m uncomfortable with. There’s someone who winks at me. The general attitude towards me seems to be either glaring me down when I walk by (I don’t mind this honestly), or being overly nice as if I hadn’t been groomed into their cult (this is considerably worse).

I think this summarises it pretty well. It’s not everything - some stuff is hard to talk about, some would involve revealing info about me that I need to be private, and honestly my brain has defensively blocked out a lot of the time I spent around the SWP, so I’m still remembering stuff out of the blue. But please listen to me, listen to everyone else who’s been through their pipeline and made it out the other end. They aren’t just an annoyance with boring placards, they hurt people. They prey on young queers and women and don’t actually give a shit about anyone. Kick them out of your demos, kick them out of your circles, and also - try to get people out! I owe my life to the anarchists who were like “hey, we see you’re in there and you probably don’t want to be - you can hang out with us”. Most of the people the SWP recruits are sucked in before they have a chance to form other networks, and it’s hard as fuck to leave a party when all your activism takes place within it and you’ve got nowhere else to go. The Socialist Workers Party is broken beyond repair and needs to be dissolved, and I would encourage its current membership to resign. Thanks for reading. 

[xchronicles]

Okay… real talk now, just between us girlies.

Aaron, if you’re reading this, you’re one of us and you’re always welcome in.

We joke, argue, and moan a lot about the J/C stuff - especially now with Prodigy being the latest new canon story. We all know, at the end of the day, they’re not real. However, what they represent and the impact they have on the audience is very real.

I watched Voyager back in the day when I was in primary school. My emotionally undeveloped self quickly picked up on the J/C stuff, and soon I found myself watching the show more and more, hoping that today’s episode would be about them or at least feature a lot of scenes with them together. I vividly remember the heartbreak after watching "Endgame" and being so confused on what I had just witnessed. I remember expecting the next episode, which never came, and feeling so confused. I felt betrayed by the show and didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. I was just a kid - exactly the target audience that Prodigy aims to reach.

Now, as an adult, that kid in me still feels that betrayal. I’ve always leaned on imaginary characters as a coping mechanism. As a girl who never quite fit into traditional gender roles and was often criticized for not being "girly" enough or not aligning with societal expectations, I found solace in the reversed gender norms between Janeway and Chakotay. At the time, I didn’t realize that this was what appealed to me so much.

What I’m trying to say is that making Janeway and Chakotay canon, no questions hanging, healthy relationship and all, is an incredible narrative tool to show that women can be in the position of power, having a career while also being in a loving, supportive relationship. It would teach younger audiences, especially girls, that they don’t have to choose between career and relationship and, more importantly, that they don’t have to strip down parts of who they really are to fit into a gender role box to be accepted as a proper woman.

I get frustrated watching interviews with Kate because whenever she asks why fans want the J/C relationship to become romantic, she never gets a good answer. I understand her pushback to some extent because I don’t think a man could ever give her an answer that truly resonated with her. Men don’t think about the constant criticism that women face about not being "womanly" enough. Kate gets told that fans want the relationship because she deserves it and that is the problem. It’s not about what she deserves - it's about the women who have been constantly told from a young age what is “appropriate” for them and that if they don't change they'll end up alone cause no man will want them. They’re the ones who truly deserve to see that they can have both, represented in a strong character like Janeway, whom they’ve admired be it for a year or over 20 years

Men do face their own set of pressures though, like being told they aren’t “man enough,” which can contribute to toxic masculinity. However, Prodigy has addressed this issue beautifully through Chakotay. He’s a wonderful example of strong, non-toxic masculinity, embodying the true essence of what it means to be a man. Season 2 did a fantastic job showcasing this with both Dal and Chakotay. I just wish we could see that same level of depth and growth for Janeway, particularly for young girls who look up to her. Right now, the message feels as if you have to choose between pursuing a career or pursuing a relationship.

Truth be told, I think a big part of the issue is that Kate views Janeway as Prodigy’s lead character, which might make her feel that maintaining the “will they or won’t they” tension is necessary to keep the audience engaged. That perspective might be true if the show were solely focused on Janeway like Voyager was, but Prodigy is so much more than that. The core of Prodigy is really about the young crew and their journey. In fact, younger viewers are likely more interested in the relationship between Gwyn and Dal. I truly believe that making J/C canon wouldn’t hurt the show - instead, it could provide a positive example for the young crew and their audience to look up to. Find solace in them just as I have when I was their age, minus the horrible heartbreak thanks to Endgame lol

[wanderingelvis]

First things first, in love with your writing style! Have a little request for you: teenage!Elvis taking a bubbly!bookworm! reader to a high school dance at Humes. The reader lives at Lauderdale Courts as well and he often spots her reading on the grass in front of the building. The two bond increasingly over books (he could listen to her enthusing over novels for hours) and this led to his asking. A very cute, softhearted romance overall. Thank you, let me know what you think! 💜

i love this request sm, it was meant to be short but i got carried away and now it's the longest request i've written! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 4,762

pairing: 50s elvis x bubbly, bookworm female! reader

Oh Lord, Elvis adored you. You were practically the human version of a golden retriever and he thought you were awful sweet.

Elvis had a tough time at high school, he was a bit different, he liked to style his hair differently and enjoyed different music to most of the folks at school. Girls loved him, but finding friends was a challenge.

It meant that Elvis was fairly reserved, which was often mistaken for stand-offish and intimidating, when actually, Elvis just wanted to make sure he was surrounded by kind people.

Your mother and father had warned you about the boy from Lauderdale Courts, the one that looked "rebellious" and sinful, even if they actually quite liked Gladys and Vernon Presley. But you knew that Elvis wasn't a mean spirited person, he'd never made fun of you at school like some other people had, when he'd had every opportunity to do so.

You didn't let mean comments from school get to you. You knew that it was just a reflection of the whoever had said the nasty words and that they'd learn better eventually. That's what your book had told you, all the characters that had been the subject of harsh words never let it get to them and you decided that you wouldn't let the words get to you either.

You loved books, they were your passion and you would rarely be found without a book in your hands. Between classes, at the breakfast table, on the lawn in front of Lauderdale Courts, you always managed to find time to start reading your latest favourite novel.

And that's how Elvis first approached you, on the lawn of Lauderdale Courts, under your favourite tree with your nose buried in a book. You hadn't even noticed him standing over you until he coughed to get your attention.

Elvis had been through a rough day, he was graduating high school along with you, but he'd started talks with a record label and there was a possibility of even touring and performing some songs. It was exciting albeit stressful and there were a lot of people applying a lot of pressure onto the young star.

Elvis just wanted to relax when he arrived home after some meetings, to unwind and calm down a little, and when he spotted you basking in the warm, golden sunlight, giggling adorably at the book, he figured that whatever happiness you held was infectious - and he walked over straight to you.

He'd always noticed you but you'd never exactly paid him much attention as your stories were your top priority.

"Hello darlin'," Elvis said, crouching down by you as you peered up at him, squinting a little to avoid the blinding evening sun. "Mind if I join ya?" He asked.

You were a little taken aback at first, no-one ever approached you, especially when you were reading and you knew that Elvis was popular with the girls at school, so you wondered why he wanted to spend time with you. Nevertheless, you didn't question it too much, he was friendly enough.

"Sure!" You smiled, turning your head back to your book in your hands, it was Little Women, a book you'd read before but you really couldn't get enough of it, this must've been the fourth, no, fifth time you've read it?

"You're Y/N right?" Elvis interrupted, making you turn your attention back to him.

"Yup. You're Elvis Presley." You said softly.

"You know who I am?"

"Sure, you're in my History class, you sit next to Jonny Albright. You live on the floor above me!" You said gently.

"And you're the girl who loves books ain't ya?" Elvis pointed out, not in a mean way, just observatory as he laid down on the grass, propping his upper body up by leaning on his elbows as you sat with your back leaning against your favourite tree.

"Guess I am." You giggled. "Do you like books?" You asked after realising that Elvis was wanting a conversation.

"Sure I do, maybe not as much as you do, but I like 'em, I see you a lot out here readin' y'know." Elvis said, making you feel an odd sensation for the first time and you blushed a little at him admitting to noticing your habits.

"I love books and stories, my Momma and Papa, they say that it's good to read but I gotta try to make some friends more and I know they're right but I just can't help it, I start readin' a book and I can't put it down until I know what happens at the end!" You said with a soft smile, you did want some more friends but you felt like you found friends in the characters of all the stories you were reading and you didn't actually mind if they weren't exactly real. You looked up at Elvis who was just watching you with sheer interest and intrigue. "You know, my Papa even put me on a ban from buyin' any new books the other week. I just been readin' all my old ones all over again." You confessed.

"So that one ya got there, that ain't a new story?" Elvis chuckled, you were very sweet, he was starting to regret not having approached you sooner. His thoughts about his meetings were already slipping away.

"Nope, this is my favourite book, it's Little Women, have you read it?" You asked.

"No, but I'd like to, when I got some more time maybe." Elvis said, he wasn't exactly sure if he would like to read it, he didn't really know what it was about truthfully, but he was starting to like you a little already, and when your face lit up with a smile at him suggesting he might read your favourite book, he knew he'd said the right thing.

"Oh wow!" You said, excited at the prospect of sharing your love of books with someone. "Well, I'd let ya borrow this copy but my little dog, Basil, he tore out a few bits of a few pages, it's not too bad because I've read this maybe five times or somethin' like that, so I can understand the missin' bits, but it might not make sense otherwise. But maybe, um, maybe you could try the school library! I could even look for you tomorrow at school if ya wanted me to! I really wouldn't mind!" You said, beginning to ramble, but you were just so excited.

"That copy is sure lookin' worse for wear sweetheart." Elvis chuckled, the spine was torn and chunks of pages were missing and you'd sure like a new one but your Papa was right, you couldn't be spending anymore money on new books.

"I know, but it's my favourite story." You said fondly. "The main character, Jo, well she wants to be a writer ya see, and that's kinda what I wanna do when I grow up, maybe." You confessed.

"A writer say?" Elvis said, raising an eyebrow, impressed.

"Uh-huh! A writer! I ain't written much yet but I got dreams and I got ideas and I think maybe, one day, other people would like to read what I got to write." You told him eagerly.

"I'd read anything you wrote darlin'." Elvis said, being simultaneously flirtatious and sincere.

You blushed at the words, no boy had ever said such kind words to you, let alone one as handsome as the one laid out in front of you.

You babbled on some more in the sticky summer air, explaining why you loved certain books, giving Elvis recommendations and answering all the questions he had - which were a lot. It was only when your mother hollered at you from your window that you had to bid Elvis goodbye and scurry in for your dinner. Elvis watched you dash away, turning back whilst running to give him a wave, knowing he was smitten with you.

You were adorable in every sense of the word, cheery, chatty and charming. It didn't hurt that you were awful cute looking too.

After spending all night thinking about your amazing evening with Elvis, you decided to make a beeline for the library during school the next day. You loved the library and librarians and whilst you wanted to be a writer, you sure did want to be a librarian too. The idea of looking after so many books and being surrounded by like-minded bookworms was such an exciting idea for you.

It didn't take you long to find a copy of Little Women and you took it out straight away. You didn't really know where Elvis would hang out but you decided to wander around the hallways looking for him.

You eventually found him, standing next to what you assumed was his locker. He was chatting to some friends who you would later come to know were Billy and George. Tentatively, you approached him, tapping his arm to get his attention. He turned around, looking down at you with a smile when he realised who it was.

Standing next to him, you couldn't help but notice how tall he was compared to you, you felt so little and the way he spoke to you sometimes made you feel that way too.

"M'sorry, I don't wanna interrupt," You said as you realised he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Not interrupting anythin' important sweet thing," Elvis said, making you blush at the pet name. "Billy, George, I'll meet ya at gym." He said, dismissing them before turning his attention back to you.

"I just went to the library, they had a copy of Little Women, well actually they had three copies, can you believe it!?" You enthused, making Elvis chuckle at how cute you were. "Well, um, anyways, I got one for ya, I figured you might be busy, my Momma said last night that your Momma told her that you got a lotta meetin's and stuff so I thought I'd get ya this! You don't gotta read it but it's real good!" You explained, trying to catch your breath from speaking so quickly.

You were a little nervous in front of him and you weren't sure why, he was very attentive in the short time you'd spoken to him, he didn't make you feel bad for being a bookworm, so you were a little confused at your feelings. You supposed you just didn't want to bore him.

"Slow down lil' mama, you gotta catch some air honey." Elvis laughed at your rambling and you giggled. "But that's awful thoughtful of ya honey. Y'know what I'm gonna do?" Elvis said, as you shook your head, waiting to find out. "I'm gonna come join ya after school by your favourite lil' tree and read some of this with ya, if that's okay of course, I know it's ya favourite lil' spot." Elvis said, as you placed the copy in Elvis' large hands.

"Of course it's okay Elvis! I'd really like that y'know! Oh! It will be like a mini book club, kinda! I always wanted to go t'one of them! We could talk about our favourite characters! I mean ya already know that mines Jo, but you might have a different favourite, I like Laurie a lot too, actually, I kinda like all the characters in a way!" You babbled, beside your little self with joy at the prospect of Elvis reading with you.

"This is awful kind of ya, baby." Elvis acknowledged.

He really was taken aback at your gesture. Lately, he'd been in many situations where people were looking to see what they could get out of him and he was finding it difficult to trust people and accomodate everyones expectations of him. It seemed like you were something of a little guardian angel, finding him at just the right time, with no bad intentions, just a whole lotta love.

"S'okay! You got three weeks until I gotta give it back or renew it but Barbara, the librarian, she's real nice and she lets me keep 'em for longer sometimes, especially when they're my favourites, so, um, so you don't gotta read it right away or nothin'!" You insisted, not wanting to pressure him.

"Thank you, Y/N, I mean it, this is awful kind. I gotta get t'gym, but I'll catch ya by your tree?" Elvis checked, he really wanted to spend his time with you. You were oh so bright and bubbly and it just radiated off you, onto him.

"Sure! Bye Elvis!" You beamed, waving at him again cutely, dashing off, not wanting to waste any of your recess time away from your books.

Elvis watched you leave once again and he shook his head, he was falling and falling hard.

Like clockwork Elvis met you by your tree. You were dressed in your little linen white dress, a smock scarf around your hair, protecting your head from the beaming sun and your bare feet with rested on the cool grass as the sprinklers would dust you with droplets of water, instantly cooling you down from the heat. You were practically in heaven, but the heat was a little much for you, even though you usually loved it. It had just been a tough day of classes, you were finding them a little harder as they went on, so you'd concentrate extra hard, giving you a bit of a headache. Mixed with the head, you were finding the words on the page a bit challenging to focus your attention onto.

"Hey darlin, how's ya book comin' along? Think you can guess the ending yet?" Elvis teased, knowing you'd read the book a million times over already.

"Can't really focus, my head kinda hurts." You admitted, feeling kinda frustrated. All you'd been looking forward to during those difficult classes was coming to your tree to read and now your head wasn't letting you.

Instantly, Elvis' protective and attentive attitude kicked in, he was already feeling attached to you and he just wanted to make you feel better.

"Shit honey, can I make you feel better? Can I get ya anythin'? You want some lemonade doll? My Momma just made a whole jug, it's real nice, a bit sweet but you'd like it." Elvis said, suddenly quite worried about you.

You couldn't help but softly giggle at his reaction. You hadn't actually heard anyone you knew curse before, you'd heard strangers do it but never someone you were friends with. "It's okay Elvis, just a little headache from school and the sun s'all. I just wish I could focus on my book, I'd been looking forward to it all day." You said, gazing up at him, admiring the golden glow the sun was giving him.

Elvis instantly removed the light jacket he had on, he didn't need it in this heat anyway. You watched him curiously as he draped it over one of the branches of the tree, offering you a decent sized patch of shade near where you were sitting. Elvis moved to sit down by you, taking the copy of Little Women that you'd got him earlier in the day, with the patch of shade covering his lap.

"Here, lie down honey, it'll help stop the headache if ya rest, you can put ya head on my lap like it's a pillow or somethin', so it's in the shade. Y'know if it's a bit cooler, it'll help stop the pain?" Elvis cooed. "And I can read the story to ya, as long as ya don't mind me startin' from the beginning?" He quizzed.

You felt those funny feelings coming back into your body again, making you feel happy, fuzzy and confused all at the same time. You obediently laid down, resting your head in Elvis' lap as he smiled lovingly down at you. You'd never been so intimate with a boy before, but you felt like you'd known Elvis so much longer than just a mere 24 hours, and Elvis felt the same way too.

The pair of you had such a kinship already that it was hard not to feel utterly relaxed in each others company.

"See? Not so bad is it?" Elvis said, tenderly brushing some hair away from your face that had clung to your temples from the summer air.

"It's nice." You said quietly.

You turned your head to look out at the lawn, watching as the sprinklers periodically spun around, hydrating the surrounding area. It was relaxing to watch as you listened to Elvis' deep voice reading you your favourite story.

You never wanted the moment to end, you finally found a friend who wanted to love everything you loved, and you were in nothing short of paradise.

It was near the end of Chapter 2 that you dozed off in the golden, evening sun, the droplets from the sprinklers hitting your exposed, tanned legs as well as the white little dress you had on, making your thighs appear through the damp wet fabric.

Elvis stumbled on his words after his eyes caught the sight, you were everything he wanted and he wanted all of you.

He paused, noticing the way that your chest rise and fell peacefully as you slept, completely relaxed and headache-free after everything Elvis had done for you. Elvis continued reading the book in silence, enjoying the story and realising why you loved it so much.

It wasn't until a while later that your Momma hollered for you yet again, signalling that your supper was ready, that Elvis pried you awake, your cute little whines making him smile.

"Aw, I'm sorry lil' mama, but you gotta go feed that belly of yours." Elvis chuckled softly, as you pushed yourself up from his lap, a grumpy yet adorable little pout plastered on your face from being woken.

"I gotta go already?" You mumbled sadly, realising you'd drifted off during your time with Elvis.

"Afraid so baby, but we can do this again tomorrow, we can do it whenever you like, kid." Elvis insisted, hoping that you'd ask him to spend every waking second with you.

You nodded, rubbing your eyes.

"You feelin' better now darlin'?" Elvis checked and you gave him another sleepy nod of confirmation.

"Uh-huh. Wanna stay with you." You said shyly.

"I know doll, I wanna stay with you too, you gotta go get your food though, otherwise you won't have any energy to read all your stories." Elvis said and you nodded, knowing he was right. "C'mere." Elvis said gently, opening his arms, indicating for you to let him give you a cuddle - one that you needed right now.

Despite being hesitant, you'd never actually given a boy your age a cuddle, you molded yourself into his arms, relaxing with a soft sight, inhaling his scent of Old Spice aftershave.

"Catch ya later, kiddo." Elvis smiled, kissing the top of your head, making those funny little feelings escalate.

"Ba-bye Elvis." You said, adorably, making Elvis' heart flutter. You were just precious.

Days turned into weeks, and every day after that you and Elvis would meet outside Lauderdale Courts, reading and chatting. He wouldn't often say much, he just loved listening to you enthusiastically babbling away at the current book you were reading. He was impressed at the speed of your reading, you could put away a short novel in an afternoon sometimes and Elvis would try to keep up with you but you'd read more than anyone else he knew.

He loved listening to you every day until you were called in for your dinner. His feelings for you were growing stronger with every word that came out of your mouth and the same went for you, you figured you maybe had a crush on Elvis and you really did hope that he liked you back. He'd never made you feel like a weirdo for being a bookworm, in fact he tried to emulate your passion, just to be able to spend time with you which you thought was awful sweet of him.

You would both look forward to seeing each other in the late afternoons every day, watching the clocks go by in the classroom and counting down until you saw each other. You'd even started walking home together, sometimes Elvis would even drive you if he'd gone for another meeting, which was a special treat for you.

It wasn't until a couple of months later in mid-July that Elvis finally mustered up the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind after your head hit his lap on that second day, all those weeks ago.

"Y/N?" Elvis said, taking the book that you were reading out of your hands and placing it down on the grass. Elvis was sat against the tree, with his legs opened wide so you could sit in between them and rest your back against his chest.

"Hey!" You said at him taking away your book, you were just getting to the good part.

"I gotta question for you, it's serious now, I'll give you your book back in a minute but you gotta listen to me carefully honey." Elvis said as you sat up and turned around so you could look directly at him, curiosity painting your face.

"What's wrong? Did I give ya a bad book? I can replace it if ya want? Or are you sick? That can happen with the heat remember! I can try and make some shade if you are, or get you some water! You shouldn't be out here if ya-"

"Baby, I'm okay, you just gotta listen, okay?" Elvis said, taking your little hands in his large ones as you watched him intently. Elvis sighed deeply, his nerves getting a little better of him. "Here goes nothin'" He said, partially to himself. "Y/N, I wanna take you to the dance next week. What do ya say?" Elvis said, watching for your reaction.

You felt your heart skip a beat. You had decided you weren't going to go, even if secretly you'd wanted to. You knew it'd be filled with couples and you hadn't really wanted to surround yourself with that if you were going to be on your lonesome.

"Can I bring my book?" You asked shyly and Elvis beamed.

"Of course ya can, sweet thing. Can I take that as a yes?" Elvis chuckled, petting your soft hair.

"Uh-huh!" You giggled, biting your lip excitedly. "Oh boy, I've never been to a dance, I know there was a Spring one last year, but I just didn't have anyone t'go with, and I kinda, actually, no I wanted to go real bad to this one! And I didn't really wanna go with just anyone either ya see, but I just would've thought you would've had loads a girls to ask, I see girls tryna talk to you all the time at school! Especially Sue-Ellen, she sure does like you, sometimes it makes me feel-" You paused, realising you were rambling and maybe saying just a little too much.

"Makes you feel like what, little un'?" Elvis asked curiously. He thought Sue-Ellen was nice, sure, but he and her only talked so much because the pair of you were partners for a Lab test.

"No, it's silly, forget it." You said, brushing it aside.

"No, I wanna know Y/N. How does it make you feel when you see me talkin' to other girls, tell me." Elvis insisted, starting to enjoy seeing you wriggle around. He knew what your answer would be, he just really needed to hear it.

"It makes me, I don't know, I guess, it just makes me sorta wish that, sorta wish that it was me that you were talkin' to," You said gently, looking down at your lap as your sun-kissed cheeks started turning a little pink. "It makes me sorta, maybe, jealous." You practically whispered, but Elvis heard every word.

Elvis took your cheeks in his large hands, lifting your head so you would look directly at him.

"You know you're my number one girl, don't ya?" Elvis grinned, making your tummy do somersaults. You recoiled with giggles at the words, you were just putty in his hands at this point.

You ended up chatting away as the evening drew on, telling Elvis about the perfect dress that your Momma wore to her own dance, you'd actually tailored it a little so it would fit you and be able to attach a corsage onto it.

When your Momma called for you at the same time as usual, you gave Elvis a hug, telling him that you couldn't wait to go the dance with him and you thanked him for asking you.

You glanced at him momentarily before pushing yourself forward and placing your pink lips on his cheek, giving him a gentle kiss. It was the most forward thing you'd ever done but you felt so comfortable around Elvis that you didn't mind.

Elvis was a little stunned, he watched you as you giggled and crawled off his lap, running towards your Momma with bare feet on the grass and your dress flying up every now and again, exposing your thighs as usual.

Elvis would be the first to admit that he'd never experienced love in a romantic way but after today, he was sure that had changed.

When the dance finally came around, you were naturally a little anxious, even skittish, constantly fiddling with the corsage that Elvis had given you, as well as the lilac tulle of your dress. Elvis kept reassuring you throughout the evening that not only did you look completely beautiful but that you were both going to have a great time and that there was nothing to worry your pretty little head over.

"Y/N, I wanted to give ya somethin, it's nothing big or anythin' but I wanted you to have it." Elvis said before the pair of you arrived at the dance.

He placed a familiar shaped item in your hands, wrapped up in brown paper with a wonky bow on it. You glanced up at him, looking for him to give the go-ahead to open it, which he did. You didn't waste any time in taking off the wrapping, only for a gasp to leave your pink lips.

"Elvis..." You said, little tears pooling in your eyes, touched at the gift. It was a brand new, latest edition of Little Women, one that didn't have half of the pages ripped out.

"Is it the right one? The lady in the store said it was the best one they had, and I know you love that raggedy old one ya got but I thought my little girl should have one that at least has all the pages intact." Elvis said, hoping that you'd love it.

You'd never had anyone do anything so thoughtful for you before. You looked up at him with your glassy eyes and he immediately cooed. "Oh baby, don't cry now, it's just a book." Elvis said, thumbing away the tears.

"It's more than a book, Elvis, it's the nicest thing anyones ever done for me." You told him with a wobbly voice. Elvis leaned over and kissed your cheek, making you blush. Little did you know, that Elvis went to the store the day after he'd met you and bought that book for you, all those weeks ago. "And I can fit it in my purse!" You said with pride, showing Elvis who laughed at how adorable you were, as you looked forward to taking it to the dance.

The pair of you began to make your way to the dance, with Elvis holding your hand tightly, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand soothingly as you entered the dance hall. Your eyes lit up as you looked around, admiring how beautiful and pretty everyone looked as well as all of the pretty decorations.

"Wow..." You gasped as Elvis chuckled, looking down at you and watching your reaction. "I feel like a real grown up Elvis." You whispered to him.

"Not quite lil' mama, the fruit punch ain't got no alcohol in it just yet." Elvis laughed. "Wanna dance with me?" Elvis offered, leading you to the little dancefloor.

The pair of you slow danced to the music, Elvis occasionally pulling a funny face to make you do that giggle that he would now hear in his dreams, he loved it so much. You felt your spine tingle as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Neither of you noticed all the eyes on you, the odd pairing of the up and coming rock 'n' roll star student and his little, bubbly, bookworm, but as the night went on, everyone got a little more used to it and no-one even noticed when you two headed off in search of the library in your party dress and Elvis' smart jacket, desperate to curl up together with that sparkly new copy of Little Women that you'd stashed in your bag.

[theblackfemininesociety]

Why 'Hoe Culture' is a Detriment to Our Society, Particularly the Black Community.

Hey Besties,

Welcome to The Black Feminine Society! We pride ourselves on creating a safe space for Black Women to heal, grow, and embrace their femininity. Our mission goes beyond just creating a supportive environment. We believe it is our duty to have open and honest discussions about the challenges that can be detrimental to our culture, while also shining a light on the right paths for Black women to take.

At The Black Feminine Society, we are committed to holding ourselves and each other accountable. Our goal is not to tear down another Black woman, but rather to empower and uplift one another. We firmly believe that by addressing the issues within our community, we can drive positive change for the greater good.

So let's talk about it…

As 'Hoe Culture' is gaining increasing momentum, particularly within the Black community. It is a matter of grave concern that such a culture is being propagated, especially considering its adverse impacts on the perception of Black women and young girls.

The music industry, a formidable influencer of society, plays a significant role in this degradation. Many lyrics and music videos often depict women as objects of desire, thereby demeaning their worth. This portrayal of Black women is not only disrespectful but also aids in perpetuating stereotypes that have haunted the community for centuries.

The lack of genuinely empowering role models for young girls is distressing. Our society seems to drown out voices that advocate for respect and dignity, while those who succumb to the pressures of being overly sexualized for relevance are amplified. It is heartbreaking to witness the precious innocence of young minds being corrupted by such destructive ideologies.

The propagation of 'Hoe Culture' also distorts the perception of what healthy relationships should look like. It fuels lust over love, leading to superficial connections devoid of real affection or respect. This is not what relationships should represent. Relationships should be about mutual respect, understanding, and love, not superficial attractions.

Also, the media tends to glamorize 'Hoe Culture', conveniently ignoring the trauma associated with it. It is not all fun and games, as they would have us believe. The reality is much harsher, filled with emotional turmoil and personal distress.

This brings us to the concept of trauma bonding, a situation where individuals develop a strong emotional attachment to those who hurt them. It is a cycle of abuse and reconciliation that can lead to severe psychological effects, including low self-esteem and chronic mental health issues.

In the world of social media, especially on platforms like Instagram, young girls often feel pressured to participate in 'Hoe Culture', fearing that they might be ostracized otherwise. Behind the glamorous pictures and seemingly perfect lives of IG models lies a sad reality of mistreatment and deception. It is vital to remember that these are curated images, not reflecting the reality of their lives.

Before I conclude, I want to leave you with a motivating message:

To all the beautiful Black women out there, remember that you are so much more than what society tries to label you as. You are strong, beautiful, and worthy. Your body is your temple, a sacred sanctuary that deserves respect and honor. Protect your heart, keep it exclusive for those who genuinely deserve it. There is no rush to fit into societal norms; remember, it's okay to be selective. Your worth is not defined by the number of likes or followers, but by the strength of your character and the depth of your spirit. Be proud of who you are and never let anyone dim your light.

[mahi-wayy]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐈𝐈𝐈 | 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑫𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫

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“I love someone else.” 

He is pretty sure he has sounded this harsh and straightforward a handful of times, his whole focus right now was the woman refusing to break eye contact with him, the fact that Kattappa and his mother was still in the room was pretty much a blur in his mind.

“So you won't marry me? Is that what you're saying?”

Since she was so good at reading silence he decided to remain silent looking back at her with the same challenge he saw in her eyes.

“And here I thought you said he would never let your words down.”

The woman turns her body towards his mother, he can see her jaw clenching before she speaks.

“He will keep my word.”

“He just said he doesn't want to marry me, what brand of keeping words is this?”

Now that statement had no answer other than Sivagami giving him an enraged and disappointed look before looking away. Damn it.

“See in case I wasn't clear enough, I'm not the one who has anything to lose, I'm not even interested in marriage, this is just for survival. The one who has to lose is a kingdom with a population of lakhs. I have already lost my palace, yours however would be massacred, all because you had this crazy delusion that you have an obedient son who respected and loved you enough to keep your words but turns out you have no control over him whatsoever. Not going to lie I am starting to doubt if you even run this kingdo-”

“Enough!”

He yelled out louder than he anticipated but the way that woman was talking with a straight face and flat tone with undercurrents of mocking from the very beginning of this whole conversation has exhausted his patience.

“You're crossing more lines than you think, Maharani.”

She looks back at him with blank eyes and something tells him that the animated personality they have seen her portray till now was all an illusion,  an illusion casted by her to get them right where she wanted.

“I never said no, you just assumed it."

He has no idea what would happen but he is not going to let his mother hear these kinds of things, even if it cost him the woman he loved.

“My apologies, my prince. I misread your silence.”

Her body shifts to face his mother again before she continues.

“Apologies to you too, my queen.”

Good lord he never thought one person can sound so different in a span of seconds. The way her tone went from underlying provoking to totally blank had a chill running up his spine.

She curtsied lightly before walking out of the room and the sudden heaviness and pressure lifting off the room had him conscious of his staying on his feet and didn't fall back on the chair.

“So you love Devasena”

Nevermind, he slums down in the chair right behind him just as his mother sits down. He was beyond exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically but this conversation needs to happen.

“Ma-”

The way she raised her hand to cut him off really told him she wasn't happy with him at the moment. 

“She isn't suitable for you Bahu, the better you accept that the better.”

He licks his bottom lip, it's dry just like his throat right now, he knew that Devsena wasn't his mother's favourite exactly but that can't change the fact that he was in love with her.

“Ma, janta hun rajkumari ko aap naapasand karti hai isliye mere yogya nahi manti. Lekin mein prem karta hun unse aur hamesha karunga, is baat ko badala nahi jaa sakta. ”

With that he stands up bows in a good night greeting before walking out, he wants to faceplant in his bed now because tomorrow isn't going to be nice.

It was quiet. 

That was the first thing that the young prince noticed the next morning, the palace was too normal to have three such strong women staying in it, especially when neither of them seemed to like each other.

But seriously Bahubali thinks it has to do something to do with his stars or something, how else does one land up in a situation like where the only one even remotely ready to listen to anything was him and only him.

For now he just  sighs walking towards the training grounds so he can physically let some tension go when he runs into Kattappa.

“Suprabhat mama.”

He wishes the man in a tired voice only to receive a couple of strong pats on his back as they both walk side by side.

“You seem tired, couldn't sleep last night?” 

“Yeah, I just can't stop thinking.”

The older male gives him a sympathetic smile while squeezing his shoulder and he feels just a little better. It's good to know he isn't alone here.

The two chat up a little more before Kattappa notices some soldiers standing outside of the training area.

“Why are you all here? When you are suppose to be preparing for helping the prince in his training??” The general asks, his voice authoritative and commanding.

“We-um, the grounds are already occupied sir.”

“Occupied and by whom? Who dares to use the training area knowing very well the prince comes out to train at this hour?”

Kattappa gets his answer in the form of sword clanking sounds, they make their way towards the commotion, where Bahubali decided to contemplate his stars again when the people sparring turn out to be the two royal guests.

Ayudhina and Devasena were having it out right infront of them. Though dressed in similar training outfits of a dhoti and armor the females wielded two very different weapons. The latter was swinging her sword with both a practised and dangerous ease while the former's contol over the spear appears natural.

He hears the audible gasp from the soldiers behind him when the sword collides with the body of the spear after which Ayudhina kicks the Kuntal princess back.

Yeah he takes back the sparring part, they are out to hurt each other. 

Everyone watches as they get more and more intense with no idea of how this all even began, they were cleary not friendly, as they can see, in anyway to have this initiated as a friendly spar.

“Rajkumari…”

Kattappa's concerned voice brings him out of his head again and he looks infront to see Devsena dodge the spear by a hair length and he swears he has never heard his own heartbeat but right now he can.

This needs to end, they need to be broken away before a mishap takes place.

He steps forward to tell the girls to knock it off when the princess gains a upper hand and it freezes him in spot when Devsena first gets the hold of Ayudhina's spear, lands a blow from the back of her sword right to her gut and then uses all her force in elbowing the older woman before kicking her back.

The armor cracks under Devsena's force as her opponent falls back right into the water pool that usually kept the weapons hidden from sight.

“Next time you pick a fight make sure you're strong enough.”

He has never heard the princess speak like the way she just did, it made his stomach churn and not in good way. At all.

“That's enough.”

He says joining the princess by her side, his voice low and calm not letting his nerves show, he recieves a nod in answer.

The sound of water gives them the conformation that the supposed queen of Chandresha was alright too was alright too.

“One last shot.”

Before he could tell Devsena not to, the woman had already picked up the spear and launched towards the rising figure from the water.

_______________

taglist : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @rambheem-is-real [let me know if you wanna be added]