#but I definitely understand your frustration

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ）THIS WAY.

PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀in which, sunghoon, your boyfriend, gets jealous when he found out you hung out with one of his friends instead of himself.

（ 박성훈 ） — pairing = fem!reader x possessivebf!sunghoon ୨୧ warning = jealousy, possessive, threatening ୨୧ wc = 1,301 (??)

a/n : sadly.. unfinished. i didn't know how to carry it on !! i'm such a bad writer LMAO but, writers, if you see this and you think you want to finish it please ask me and i'll definitely let you !! for now, it's unfinished!!

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 a random Saturday, and Jay had offered to take you out to a Korean BBQ for lunch on him. The food was delicious, and being the foodie you are, you took a picture and uploaded it to your Instagram story. Sunghoon, your boyfriend, happened to see it and immediately texted you.

Hoon What is this? [one attachment]

Hoon Why didn't you tell me you met with him?

Hoon Y/n answer me now.

ㅤYou could practically feel his jealousy and possessiveness through the phone, as if he was right in front of you. But, at the moment, you were sitting at the bar while it was 11pm--sipping on the drink Jay bought you. You quickly texted Sunghoon back upon seeing his message,

Y/n Sunghoon we just got lunch together. It wasn't anything too important, so I didn't tell you about it.

ㅤSunghoon quickly read your reply, and that only made him even more upset. He lout a frustrated growl and began typing his response back.

Hoon 'Just lunch'? You shouldn't be alone with him. He shouldn't be paying for your food, I do that. You're my girlfriend, not his.

Hoon Don't let him touch you, or even get close to you.

ㅤHe sent back in a very firm manner. As Sunghoon waited for your reply after sending that text, he started becoming more and more agitated. His mind was racing with jealousy and possessive thoughts, and he couldn't stand the idea of another guy spending time with you, let alone buying you stuff.

ㅤ"I swear if she doesn't answer soon.." He muttered to himself as he continued waiting for your response.

ㅤHe wanted to know why you didn't tell him about the lunch and why you let Jay pay for your meal. He gripped his phone tightly, as if he was trying to break it.

Hoon And, you should've told me about it. Don't give me 'it's just lunch'. Like I said, you're my girlfriend Y/n.

Hoon You're not just some girl, and you're definitely not Jay's girl.

ㅤHe couldn't stand the idea of you being with another man, the thought alone filled him with jealousy. You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief,

Y/n Sunghoon, you're being dramatic. Far too dramatic. I'm at the bar right now, I just want a drink so leave me alone.

ㅤBefore you could see his reply, you quickly powered off your phone so he wouldn't bother you. Sunghoon's eyebrow twitched in irritation as he read your text, he couldn't believe your attitude, and the fact that you had the audacity to shut off your phone and tell him to leave you alone.

ㅤHe clenched his firsts, feeling a mixture of frustration and anger. He couldn't let this slide. Not when he knew guys would be eyeing you. He couldn't let them get near you. You were his.

Hoon Dramatic, huh? You're out with another man alone, drinking and shutting me out?

Hoon I don't think so.

ㅤHe put his phone in his pocket and got up to get his keys, starting up his car and driving over to the bar he usually could find you at. Once Sunghoon arrived at the bar, he quickly ran in as his eyes scanned the area for you. He was on a mission to find and confront you, to make you understand that he was in charge.

ㅤAs he walked deeper into the bar, casually sipping a drink. He made his way over to you, his footsteps firm and steady as the music of the bar filled his ears and yours. "What are you doing? Drinking and ignoring your boyfriend, aren't you?" He said sternly, eyes fixated on you as he stood directly behind you at the bar.

ㅤHe slowly took a seat on the stool behind you, leaning against the counter and staring hard into your eyes. "Explain." He growled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

ㅤYou looked at him in surprise, furrowing your eyebrows and whining at him. "Hoon!" You exclaimed, confused with how fast he got here. "You were fucking speeding weren't you?" You huffed at him, immediately going to hit his chest. Sunghoon chuckled at you,

ㅤHis grip on your waist firm, keeping you on his lap. He smirked slightly as he looked into your eyes, completely unfazed by your attempt at hurting him. "So what if I was? I care more about you than some stupid speeding ticket."

ㅤHe said confidently, not even batting an eye as he continued to stare at you. His eyes dropped down to the glass in your hand, his thick brows furrowing. "And who bought you that drink?"

ㅤSunghoon asked, his voice dropped to a low inquiry. His grip on your waist tightened a bit as he spoke, as if trying to keep you from even moving. [unfinished]

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.⠀⦂ ⠀@nheyri @uoalirie @moonpri @minaz-luv @ariiacxsx @jaeycn

[eir-trixa]

WOTTG SPOILERS AFTER THE CUT

.

.

.

Can you believe Rick is validating me in my Percy-is-the-most-empathic-character take? I have legal basis but boi does it feel nice to have canon confirmation.

Second that book was short af I got the gist of it all while reading for like an hour.

Third, we addressed everyone else’s trauma. Percy’s still the group therapist LMAO 😭😭😭

Fourth, my son is such a good kid yall, this is why I lose five years of my life when someone insults or when he insults himself jfc my child.

Im honestly still processing and I have to reread the ending. Did it address Percy’s issues? Im going to go with “a bit” and call it a night. I mean, I guess it did? Percy got to unload and help Gale and Hecuba. We got an insight to how he’s managing to stay up and fighting and good despite all the shit he’s put into. Honestly the fact that he saw the humanity in Gale and Hecuba, that he saw their pain and grief and thats what made them trust him, that is so good. And the way he related to them. Goodness. And it highlights again how good a person he is, how much he feels and cares. I mean, he cried cause he had to send Mrs O Leary away, I cant with this kid-

I supposed what Im left unsatisfied with is how he still perceives himself as dumb? Baby, you survived San Fran for two months as a homeless kid without memories and pursued by different monsters who cant die. Youre the furthest thing from dumb.

He cant see this of course and while it was slightly addressed(?) by Annabeth telling him to his face that she doesnt give him enough credit, that he’s pretty smart, I dont think thats enough for addressing this particular issue. There was a time in the middle that he almost snapped because he thought Annabeth probably thinks him too dumb to know what to do next. Which I understand is frustrating to him. But to be fair this book made him look at Annabeth for a solution a lot. Theres also little comments about how when he cant think of anything - which is every 60 seconds apparently according to him- he looks at Annabeth. This doesnt help the co dependent allegations LMAO. Idk, I will die on the Hill that Percy is one of the smartest people in the series, not just emotionally but also in strategy. And theres, of course, nothing wrong with looking at the genius strategist for answers. Ive mixed feelings because definitely this is more of a Percy-insecurity issue than an Annabeth-being-bossy issue. But okay. One more book, heres to hoping we get more heart to heart on that front because Im 999998% sure she doesnt mean to make him feel stupid, Percy’s just got a lot of demons to fight but this in particular they need to figure out together. Still, its obvious how much they care for each other still. If only Dave and Hana did not piss me off at the start Id probably be a little more lenient about this.

Annabeth’s fatal flaw also makes a comeback, we love to see it.

And Sally Estelle Jackson. Now we have to find out wth is Percy’s middle name cause if Sally has one odds are she gave her son too. Trust me. Im Filipino. Iykyk.

Lastly, while I will forever and ever and ever support the trio from pjotv (theyre perfect and have done nothing wrong ever) I can see Rick’s injecting their personalities into the books. Im not sure if he does this on purpose or just subconsciously LMAO. Some of Grover’s dialogue is definitely inspired by Aryan. Percy being Lanky? Walker through and through, especially with his growth spurt lmao, and Annabeth’s confidence? All Leah. I can see what Rick’s trying to do. Ive no opinion on this, just pointing it out. I do love love love the live action. Just. I can see you Rick. You aint slick.

So there. I probably would need to reread the book properly at some point.

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

But I will say in regards to Dr Seward's off the charts bitchiness when Van Helsing tells him it's vampires I do completely understand where it's coming from. Dr. Seward was in the trenches in a way that Quincey and Arthur just weren't. Just try and put yourselves in Seward's shoes in late September

a) just initially in the beginning he is in love with a girl and got rejected. So he's already in that mental state + then he has to see her everyday because she's ill. And I'm not saying he wasn't happy to do that for her, but reading his diary it definitely did open up old wounds. He was definitely still crushing on her even knowing it was without hope. So he's already strung out on that emotional front

b) strung out more by the fact he is physically exhausted because he can't sleep a night through.

c) strung out intellectually because he cannot solve the problem of Lucy's illness and he's just so lost and frustrated as a human trying to solve a puzzle with logic.

d) strung along by Van Helsing 's constant hints that he knows more than he's saying

And then Lucy dies so

e) Even more emotionally strung out from his own grief and also being there for his friend. Arthur

So imagine the mental state. And then all the sudden Van Helsing is like "okay. I'm ready to tell you. *Doesn't tell him for like a whole monologue* okay, I'm really ready to tell you. Are you ready. Are you leaning in. Okay. It's vampires."

Like.

Would you not also.

Lose

Your

FUCKING

Mind?!!!

I think he's entitled to his hissy fit. And maybe a little arson.

[crescent-blades]

Refusing to talk to them | Kokushibo

| Warnings: slight hurt 💔 and fluff 💞| Warnings: None | WC: 0.7k | A/n: Kokushibo and y/n are married |

𖤐ˎˊ˗ Masterlist

  ̗̀➛ You two rarely argued, if at all. Both of you were understanding of each other, and Kokushibo being a man of little words along with his calm disposition really made it nearly impossible to engage in any arguments with him.

  ̗̀➛ But for the first time, you two had argued, so intensly infact- that for the first time you witnessed a side of him that you had never seen before-- he was so angry that for the first time- he had raised his voice at you.

  ̗̀➛ after the argument, he himself was pretty heated. Frustration had boiled up within him, and in an effort to release the pent-up energy, he just started training himself, perfecting his strikes and accuracy; as the frustration built up within him would be released in a series of slashes

  ̗̀➛ As time passed, the intensity of his anger began to fade, and he realized that the argument was ultimately all trivial anyways..

  ̗̀➛ Almost an entire day had passed since your heated argument. As always, Kokushibo, your husband came home, expecting you to have forgotten thibgs like him and moved on. Only to see that you were just completely ignoring him.

  ̗̀➛Kokushibo would be slightly taken aback at your behavior, deep down, hurt even. Did he really mess things up that bad? No.. he could not--perhaps you were still grappling with the situation.. So he just dismissed it entirely, beleiving that you'd forget it all eventually..

  ̗̀➛Until that time never actually came. What began as one day stretched into two, then three, until almost a week had gone by, and you still chose to completely disregard him. Refusing to even acknowledge his presence.

..."How childish--"

  ̗̀➛ He'd think.. yet deep down, he felt concerned. Why were you behaving like this? The only person who he had managed to form a connection with.. someone who he had genuinely learnt to care about had abruptly just cut all ties with him?

  ̗̀➛ A sense of pain began to settle in his chest-- in his heart.. yet still, he attempted to dismiss his feelings, regarding the situation as insignificant as he'd ventured out to release his frustrations through training, until even that ceased to provide relief anymore..

  ̗̀➛ But the the thought of you- your words, the smile that lit up your face when you saw him, those comforting embraces, and your soothing presence—had vanished. All of it, the argument he once considered trivial now kept replaying in his mind over and over--

Your silent treatment had deeply wounded a demon who nobody could even lay a scratch on.

  ̗̀➛ He understood that now even training wasn't helping with anything. Deep down, he sought your embrace once more.. he though the only way to undo all of this would be to make amends with you.

  ̗̀➛ So the next day, he decided to reach out to you. He was infact, a man with little words. Conversing with people seemed trivial to him, but as for you, not conversing with you seemed draining-

"The moon.. appears quite lovely today.. does it not?"

  ̗̀➛ He'd try talking to you, bringing up conversations, hopinig to draw you out, yet you remained unresponsive..

"Y/n, my dear... I understand I must have said things that must have.. upset you.. but please let us forget about these trivial matters.. my heart.. longs for your presence.."

  ̗̀➛ he'd apologise to you, for the hurtful words he had used. Definitely, having him yell at you like that, he brought out a side you never saw in him, and it definitely had hurt you. You would share your feelings with him, and he would listen attentively, do his best to understand you..

  ̗̀➛ But in the end, he'd never let you stay mad at him for too long. He didn't want to lose you. He valued your presence in his life, as you were someone in many centuries that actually understood him, and he learnt to genuinely love you. And letting some silly arguments jeapardize your entire relationship was something he'd never let happen..

  ̗̀➛ He'd write heartfelt poetry for you, to cheer you up.. he'd write about your beautiful smile, your delicate touch among other cherished qualities. He would craft a beautifully written love letter along, with some beautiful flowers hed give to you from time to time. Although he may not be a man of many words, he is dedicated to ensuring your happiness in every possible way.

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Running Late

You had never really been in shape, it was only natural that you avoided certain places around here, then. Places like the gym and most notably... the park. It was especially bad in late fall, that was when your local college started up track. So... what did you do? Same thing you always did, avoid it to the best of your ability.

Unfortunately for you, your abilities weren't quite good enough to stop fate from intervening. As usual you began your morning commute. It was simple and you liked the nice cool morning air, especially in the fall. Unfortunately... there was construction. You didn't know about it and now you would be late. This was going to be awful...

Your job wasn't amazing but it paid well enough. One other thing... you had been late quite a bit before... you were on one of your last strikes. So what would you do now? You called your boss, telling them you would be late due to construction... just hoping they would understand. Of course, they did not. They told you to go right to their office when you came in. Nothing good about that. So frustrated, you began walking absentmindedly to your better route... You hadn't thought this through.

When getting to the park you realized it too late, especially with the help of some dumb guy walking up to you. Right at the entrance. He wore a pair of athletic shorts that showed off his physique. He looked a bit upset but hard to tell through his shades. "What? Are you one of the people trying out for track? You're late." He looked you up and down. You looked angry, he looked annoyed... nothing good would come out of this.

You sighed and looked at him, "Look, I'm late for-"

He nodded. "Alright alright, I can tell you're late. What's your name? Gavin? Okay, Gavin we're running through the park and nature trail. If you can make it through that in... thirty minutes or less you're on the team."

"What? No you didn-" Again you didn't get to finish before he blew the whistle in your face. Instinctively and oddly you began running. Maybe it was to get out of the situation or maybe something else... Either way you ran. It was tough, you were huffing and puffing as your arms swayed side to side. Your chest was heaving with every labored movement. Your shoes were definitely not cut out for this.

As you kept going you started cussing, it helped you through the pain. Just a bit further and you could get out of the park... You kept running and running. Cussing out your boss, cussing out your co-workers, cussing out your job. "Fuck this" and "Fuck that" everywhere. With every step, every stride your mouth felt sore, your lips felt numb, your chest burnt. You felt like you were dying... but it also felt relieving. Your chest started to pump out, any fat or saggy man tits getting firm if not a bit jiggly. You were burning fat. Fat turned to muscle. Your chin? Yeah it felt like it was burning but really it was reshaping. You needed better air flow as you ran. Your lips were much softer, your chin was much more manly.

You ran your hands through your hair, unaware of the changes going on in your body. You grew hair on your chest, not much but notable. Your hair, nicely styled for your shitty office job, blew in the wind, shaping to a more... simple and trendy style. Helped and had a little bounce. Your head reshaped a bit too... What was going on?

As you neared the turn to get out you just tossed your jacket off and kept running, right passed it! You tried to stop but your legs wouldn't It was like they needed to run... They were growing more muscular. You were getting more muscular. It was easier to breathe and run now. The movements you were making were better, more fitting of a runner who did this often. But your clothes were so restricting... You took off your shitty shirt and belt... but that still wasn't enough. You went down to your underwear... odd... it was now compression boxer briefs.

Your bulge bounced with every step, it grew in size and smell. You were starting to stink quite a bit... Must be the sweat. The scent was intoxicating. You were having trouble thinking of your job. What was it again? Fuck who cared running felt so good. You had passed like three guys so far! Shows them! And you were late!

Getting past a few more you heard some bros... or... guys? No bros felt way better on the brainage. Well either way they were laughing. By now you had caught up to them. "What's so funny?" Odd... you could hold conversation while laughing. One explained that you were doing better than expected. The other made fun of you for being new. He did mention you were doing well with hazing. Hazing? But you weren't even on the team. But before you knew it one sprinted off.

"Oh fuck no you don't!" You laughed and started to sprint after him. Your body was changing and mind solidifying.... and just as you got to the finish marker. You weren't yourself anymore but who cares. You beat that guy. He even shook your hand.

"Name's Hunter, what's yours rookie?"

He laughed as the coach came up to you. "God damn, Gavin. For someone so late I didn't think you had the grit." He patted your back and handed you a shirt. It was yours yeah? Yeah it had to be.

"Gavin, huh? Yeah I think you'll fit in well on varsity." Hunter smiled and started to walk off. "Think you can take the cooldown?" He smirked, smug of course.

You paused to try and think for a second before laughing and blurting out; "Cool down? I'm hardly done yet, dude!" With that Hunter nodded and you two ran again... Racing... Hunter had found a rival, you found purpose, not if only you could find where you left your pants...

Enjoy your new life, meathead.

[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 7:Her Vulnerability

Summary: Wednesday blames you as the reason she let her guard down, for the vulnerability that came with you.

Warning: Light Angst. Wednesday is back. !Mentions of death of a parent! Slow Burn.

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

Worklist.

Your heart raced as you grabbed your phone, frantically dialing your dad’s number. This wasn’t a “handle it yourself” kind of situation. You had nine high people on your hands, one of them being Wednesday Addams, and you knew things could go downhill fast.

"Dad.." you began, your voice shaky..

He definitely sensed the panic in your voice. “What happened? Everything alright?”

“Uh, not exactly,” you said, glancing nervously at the group. “So... Dad, do you remember how you always said if I ever needed you, no matter how stupid the reason, you’d come?”

Your dad paused, immediately suspicious. “Yeah? What did you do?”

“Okay, first of all, this is not my fault.” You shot a look toward Rick, who was now trying to chase his own shadow in circles, laughing like a maniac. “But... everyone here might be, uh, high. And Wednesday, well, she’s... Let’s just say I need help. Fast.”

Your dad’s voice came back with a groan. “Hey! You told me you guys were camping, what kind of camps do they even run?"

“We were camping, Dad! It’s an accident!” you snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Stop asking questions and just get here!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. What do I even bring to deal with this?” he asked,

You blinked, unsure how to answer. “Uh, a tranquilizer gun?”

Your dad chuckled. “I’ll figure it out. See you soon. Try to keep the casualties to a minimum.”

“Great,” you muttered. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be here... herding drunk cats.”

As you hung up, you sighed in relief but immediately felt the weight of the situation crash back in.

“Y/n,”

You jumped, nearly dropping your phone. “What the—Wednesday! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“You need to lift the magic.”

“Magic? What magic?” You frowned, thrown off by the comment.

“The one that keeps making me think about you all the time. Like right now. Like when I sleep.” She leaned closer, "It makes me feel... weird. Like... like I should stab you. But I can’t. I try, but it doesn’t feel right. Anyone else, I’d stab them. Like... like Brooke.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral. “Okay, but let’s agree not to stab Brooke,” you said, gently taking her arm.

Just then you heard Alex shout from across the camp. “Oh, baby! You complete me!”

“Oh, for the love of—” you groaned, rushing over to see Alex, arms wrapped around a thick tree trunk, “Alex, what the hell are you doing?”

Alex, now fully invested in his "relationship" with the tree, was whispering sweet nothings into its bark. "You're so... strong. You never hurt me, even when I hit you. I think... I love you."

"Alex!" You groaned, "Stop groping the tree. It doesn’t love you back."

He glanced at you, wide-eyed and sincere. “She… she gets me. She understands me. I love her.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should laugh or cry. “Alex, it’s a tree.”

“Don’t insult her!” he cried dramatically, clutching the bark tighter. “She’s... she’s the love of my life.”

“Rick! Don’t get in the water!” you shouted as you caught sight of him staggering toward the lake.

Rick paused, looked back, and said, “But the water… it calls to me!”

“No! You’ll drown!” You sprinted over, grabbing his arm and yanking him back just in time. He stumbled but managed to stay upright, looking at you as if you’d just ruined his dreams.

“Aw, come on! I just wanted to see the dolphin.”

“It's a lake Rick! There are no dolphins! Stay away from the water!”

You sighed, glancing around the camp to see what fresh disaster awaited you. And then, your heart stopped.

"Wednesday, don’t stab Brooke!" you shouted, seeing Wednesday approaching Brooke with a knife in hand.

“Why not?” Wednesday replied, her voice dangerously calm. “She looks stab-worthy.”

For a second, you thought you were in the clear—until Wednesday moved behind Brooke and, with one swift motion, sliced off her ponytail.

Brooke just kept laughing. “Hey! Free haircut!”

“Wednesday, what the hell!" you cried.

She turned to you with an unsettling smirk, eyes still glazed but sharp. Without warning, she threw the knife at you. You yelped, dodging just in time as the blade embedded itself in the tree behind you. “Seriously?!”

She grinned, grabbing another knife from god knows where. “It’s a game, Y/n. You dodge, I throw.” You ducked again as the second knife sailed past your head. “How many knives do you even have?!” “Enough,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. Before you could react, she pulled out another knife from her coat. “Okay, stop!” You ducked as the third knife soared past. “Are you done?” She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “No.” And out came knife number four. You barely dodged it as it flew past your head and stabbed Alex's newlywed wife... "My love! Noooo" Alex cried holding onto the tree.

“You’re really good at dodging,” Wednesday mumbled, her words slurring together. “I might like that about you.”

You weren’t sure whether to be flattered or terrified.

“Wednesday! Are you done?”

She frowned, swaying on her feet. “I’m out of knives."

"Thank god," you muttered but before you could catch your breath you saw Mike, who was trying to roast marshmallows... without the stick. He held the marshmallows directly over the fire with his bare hands, completely unaware of the flames licking at his skin.

“Mike!” you ran over and pulled him away. “Are you trying to set yourself on fire?!”

He blinked at you in confusion. “I was just... hungry.”

“Use a stick next time!” you cried, handing him one.

You sighed as you glanced at Wednesday, who had wandered off again, staring at the moon like it had personally offended her.

You jogged over to her, grabbing her by the arm before she could do anything else drastic. “Wednesday, stay with me, okay? Get a hold of yourself, stop acting weird.”

“I’m not weird,” she muttered, looking up at the sky with unfocused eyes. “The moon is weird. Look at it... all smug up there... thinking it’s so important. I could take it down if I wanted to.”

“Sure, Wednesday,” you said, humoring her. “But let’s not fight the moon right now, okay?”

She blinked, swaying slightly. “Why not? It deserves it. It’s always watching... judging... Like Weems, Can we kill Weems when we go back?”

Rick was running back toward the lake again, you rubbed your temples. “Wednesday, please just sit down, we can kill Weems later, okay?.” you said before going for Rick.

“Rick! No!” You sprinted after him, pulling him away just before he could dive in.

“Man, you’re no fun!” Rick slurred, pouting like a child.

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to keep you all alive!”

Returning to Wednesday, you found her surprisingly obedient for once, sitting by the fire.

“You,” she muttered, pointing a finger at you again. “Why are you always fixing things? Its annoying.”

You sighed, catching your breath. “Trust me, I know.”

“But…” she paused, her brow furrowing in drunken confusion. “I also kind of like that you’re always… there.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, your heart doing a weird little flip despite the chaos. “Oh yeah? Well, I kind of like that you haven’t stabbed anyone yet.”

She smirked, getting up on her feet. “Give me some time.”

Just as you were about to respond, the distant ruffling from the woods.

Your dad had arrived, along with a few camp staff members who clearly had no idea what they were walking into.

“Okay,” your dad said, running a hand through his hair. “What the hell happened here?”

You crossed your arms, gesturing to the group. “This. This happened. Rick spiked the coffee. So… good luck. I’m getting Wednesday out of here. Give me your car keys.”

Your dad hesitated, his brows furrowing. "You don’t have a license yet, Y/n."

"I don’t care," you said firmly, glancing over at Wednesday, who was eyeing everyone with a dangerous gleam. "I need to get her out of here before she really does something."

He stared at you for a moment, then sighed, digging into his pocket and pulling out the car keys. "Here. And take this." He handed you a flashlight. "It’s dark out there."

"Thanks, Dad," you said, pocketing the keys and flashlight.

"Good luck," he called as you started to lead Wednesday away from the mess.

You led Wednesday through the dark jungle, her hand gripped tightly in yours, her steps unsteady but stubborn. Every twig that snapped had you jumping. “You’re scared,” Wednesday observed bluntly. You stiffened. “No, I’m not. I just don’t like… unexpected noises.” “You’re scared,” she repeated, her voice softer now, less mocking. “I can tell.” You sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little. It’s dark and creepy" You walked in silence for a few moments, the jungle seeming to close in around you, the air thick and heavy, but what felt even more dense.. was Wednesday's proximity near you.

“I’m scared too.” her voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in.

You blinked, “What? You? Scared? Of what?” you asked, half expecting her to say something completely ridiculous, like hugs.

“I’m scared… of getting close to you.” Her words came out slowly, as if she were forcing herself to admit it.

That made you stop in your tracks. You turned to look at her, your heartbeat suddenly louder in your ears.

“I’m scared about that too,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the sounds of the jungle. “I’m scared for you. That you’ll get close to me, and it’ll be... selfish.”

“Selfish?” she echoed, her brow furrowing. “Why would it be selfish?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn't.. you didn't want to lose her... not yet.

Wednesday’s gaze bore into you, waiting for an answer, but you squeezed her hand lightly, leading her forward through the jungle.

"Let’s just get out of here," you murmured.

She didn’t press further, just followed your lead, her steps slow but steady, her grip firm in yours. After what felt like an eternity, you finally saw the road ahead, your dad’s car parked at the edge of the road. Relief washed over you as you reached it. You helped Wednesday into the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel. Your hands shook as you gripped the steering wheel.

There was no way you were driving two hours to Nevermore in this state. Your house was only half an hour away, and you were way too tired to push through for that long.

“I’m taking you to my place,” you said, glancing over at Wednesday. “It’s closer.” She blinked slowly, her head resting against the window. “I don’t care… as long as it’s quiet.” You started the car, pulling onto the road and heading toward home. The drive was mostly silent, save for the occasional comment from Wednesday. “You’re a terrible driver,” she mumbled at one point, her eyes half-closed. “Gee, thanks,” you muttered. “And why is your car so… bright?” “It’s a normal car, Wednesday.” “I prefer hearses.” You chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spread through your chest despite the exhaustion. Even drunk, even high, she was still Wednesday Addams.

After what felt like both an eternity and a blink, you finally pulled into your driveway. You hadn’t been gone long, just a week, but somehow it felt like you’d been away for months. You missed it. You helped Wednesday out of the car, guiding her toward the front door. She blinked at the house, her lips curling into a half-frown. “It’s… too clean.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Where are the cobwebs? The dust? It’s too… colorful. It offends me.” You laughed softly, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Sorry to disappoint. Maybe I can add some cobwebs for you later.” Wednesday grunted, following you in. “You should.” You led her upstairs to the bathroom, handing her a towel and some spare clothes—luckily, you had some black ones. No way were you risking putting her in anything with colours. That might be the last mistake you ever made. "Just… take a shower. I’ll be right outside if you need anything," you said, standing awkwardly by the door. There was a pause, and then the sound of water running. You heard her muttering something under her breath, but you didn’t ask what.

After a few minutes, she emerged, dressed in the black shirt and pants you’d given her. She still looked disheveled, her hair damp and wild.. and... human? "Better?" you asked. She nodded once, her eyes flicking over you. "Tolerable." "Great." You led her to your room, where you helped her onto your bed. "You can sleep here. I’ll take the chair." Wednesday stared at the bed with disdain. “It’s too colorful.” “Would you prefer I get you a coffin?” Her eyes lit up "You can?" “No, I’m fresh out of coffins, so you’re stuck with this.” You said, watching as she reluctantly climbed onto the bed. She lay back, eyeing the bright blankets suspiciously. "Sweet dreams Wends." "Bitter nightmares Y/n." You sat down in the chair, resting your head on the table, exhausted from the day. As your eyelids grew heavier, you couldn’t help but feel… content. Despite everything that happened, the chaos, the stress—it was nice. It was nice… with Wednesday.

Wednesday woke up with a pounding headache, one that reminded her of the few times she'd experienced her visions—but this one was worse. Her skull felt like it was splitting in two. She blinked slowly, squinting against the unfamiliar light filtering through the room. Her mind began to sort through fragments of memories. The camp… those insufferable therapy sessions… the lake… She sat up abruptly, clutching her head as the pain intensified.

Her eyes flicked around the room, landing on your slumped figure, asleep at the desk. You were hunched over, your head resting on your arms, your breathing slow and steady. For some reason, her mind didn’t leap to the worst-case scenarios like it usually did. Normally, she would have assumed she’d been kidnapped or poisoned or worse, but this time, her immediate reaction was different. You were there. And for some strange, infuriating reason, that put her mind somewhat at ease. She quickly squashed that feeling, she needed answers.

“Y/N.” You jolted upright, startled and confused, your eyes wide as you tried to get your bearings. “Wednesday?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes, still half-asleep. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice sharper now. “And why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a freight train?” You stood, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “You’re at my house,” you said, a bit sheepish. “Uh, sorry about that. After everything that happened last night, I figured it was easier to bring you here instead of taking you all the way back to Nevermore.” Wednesday’s gaze narrowed. “And what, exactly, happened last night?” You grimaced. “It was Rick. He spiked the coffee, and… well, everyone got pretty messed up. You were high.”

A flicker of memory hit her like a punch to the gut. The coffee. Rick. Her emotions spilling out. She had been...drunk. And not just any kind of drunk—emotionally vulnerable drunk. A wave of nausea hit her. "I was what?"

"Yeah, you were... not yourself. And I had to, you know, keep you from stabbing people or throwing knives. At me, mostly." You gave her a nervous chuckle, trying to ease the tension. "So I took you home before you killed anyone."

Wednesday’s face darkened, her expression unreadable. She could vaguely remember the feel of the knife in her hand, the sheer frustration bubbling inside her, and then...she let her guard down. She had felt things—for you. Her hands tightened into fists.

"This was your fault," she said, her voice low, dangerous. “You. You're the reason this happened.”

You blinked in surprise, then frowned. “What? How is this my fault?”

“You.” Her eyes burned with anger, her lips curling into a scowl. “Yesterday, I let you in. And look where that got me—drunk, vulnerable, and completely out of control.”

Her words stung. You had never seen her so agitated, so vulnerable, and yet so defensive at the same time. Your heart sank a little, but you stepped closer to her. “Wednesday, it’s okay. I was there, wasn’t I? I’ll always be there if you need me.”

“That's not the point!” Wednesday snapped. “The point is that I’m never like this. I never allow myself to be anything other than in control. But you... you make me lose that control. You distract me. You’re the reason I wasn’t on guard, the reason I didn’t see it coming.”

For a moment, you were speechless. It wasn’t often that you saw Wednesday like this—raw, emotional, admitting that she wasn’t as impenetrable as she wanted to be. But instead of backing down, you felt your own frustration rising.

“So, what? You’re mad because I’m not a threat to you? Because I make you feel something?”

Her eyes flashed. “Yes!”

You stared at her, genuinely taken aback by her admission. “You’re blaming me for something you’re not used to dealing with that I had no control of.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You had control, you entered my life. I never asked you to get close to me," she hissed.

You stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. You shook your head slowly. “You know what? Fine. Be mad. Blame me for all of it. Blame me because you’re scared to admit that you actually care about someone. Go ahead.”

Wednesday’s eyes flashed a bit of emotions, but you didn’t stop.

“Because I can’t do this,” you said, your voice laced with frustration. “I can't keep taking the fault just because you’re too stubborn to admit that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to be alone all the time.”

“I am not alone,” Wednesday said coldly. “I choose this.”

You looked at her, and for a second, something shifted in your expression. Hurt, maybe. Or disappointment. “Fine. Then go. Be strong and alone, just like you always do.”

The words stung more than she cared to admit. She felt her anger surge again, but this time, there was something else beneath it—an ache she couldn’t name. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her mind racing.

Back in your room, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. The frustration, the anger—it was all swirling inside you like a storm. You hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but damn it, Wednesday knew how to push every button.

Still, you couldn’t just leave things like this. Not after everything that had happened.

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, running a hand through your hair as you headed out to find her.

Wednesday stood outside, her arms crossed tightly against her chest as the morning air bit at her skin. She stood rigid, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. What part of Jericho is she even in?

She was stuck in this place—your place. A house that felt almost too normal for her liking, too...warm. It was unsettling. And yet, it wasn’t just the unfamiliarity of the setting that rattled her. It was you.

She wasn’t going back inside.

Her pride wouldn’t allow it. She could navigate the situation on her own—she didn’t need help. Wednesday Addams never needed help.

You were the one person she could blame for her current predicament. Yet, somehow, you were also the only person she found herself thinking about.

Her head was still pounding, the remnants of the drug-fueled haze clinging to her like a persistent shadow. It was disorienting and left her feeling unusually out of control.

And that—more than anything—infuriated her.

She wasn’t used to this. Losing control, feeling vulnerable, feeling anything.

It was your fault. You had wormed your way into her life, into her mind, and now, into her emotions. And for what? You were unpredictable, infuriatingly cheerful, and entirely too comfortable in her presence. No one had ever made her feel this conflicted before. And she hated it.

No, she hated you. Right?

What had she said last night? What had you seen? She remembered the rush of emotions flooding her mind, the dizzying sensation of being drunk—something she never allowed herself to be.

And somehow, you had been there, in the middle of it all. And you are still here now...

“Is it really that bad to let someone in, Wednesday?” She stiffened at the sound of your voice, not bothering to turn to face you.

“Yes,” she replied coldly, the answer immediate and sharp. “It would make me weak. Vulnerable.”

You sighed softly, taking a few slow steps toward her, careful not to intrude on her space but just close enough that she couldn’t ignore your presence.

“Vulnerability,” you mused, glancing down at your feet before looking back at her with a sad smile. “I wish I felt vulnerable sometimes. The vulnerability of a mother’s love."

Wednesday’s sharp gaze turned to you, a question forming in her eyes but remaining unspoken.

“My mother died giving birth to me,” you continued, "Talk about being born only to murder your mother,” you chuckled, though it wasn’t filled with your usual warmth. It was tinged with something deeper—pain.

That hit harder than she anticipated. Wednesday wasn’t one for empathy, but something about the way you said it, the way you tried to laugh off the tragedy, made something in her chest tighten. She wasn’t sure why, but the pain in your voice resonated with her.

“I watched as the others played with their mothers,” you continued, your eyes distant now, as if you were seeing something far away. “Dad tried, he really did. But he had work. The cars in his garage weren’t going to fix themselves.”

Wednesday stayed silent, her eyes locked on your profile. She could see the sadness in your eyes now, the weight of it pressing down on you like a dark cloud. You were trying to make a joke of it, trying to downplay the loss, but she could tell how much it still hurt you.

“Why am I telling you all this?” you asked, your voice softer now, more vulnerable than she had ever heard it. “Because, Wednesday... sometimes, the thing we think will make us weak or vulnerable... is actually the thing that’s missing. The thing that could make us whole.”

She remained silent, the words hanging in the air between you both. For the first time in a long time, Wednesday didn’t have a sharp retort, didn’t have some sarcastic comment to throw back at you. She just...stood there. Listening.

What the hell am I even doing?

Her mind raced, and she felt an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach. You clearly had nothing to hide, no ulterior motives that she could detect. Maybe...maybe she could trust you. But trust was dangerous. She had built her life around never needing to trust anyone. Why should you be any different?

Still, something about your words lingered in her mind, gnawing at her resolve. Vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, you had said. It was the missing piece.

For a moment, she considered the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, letting you in didn’t mean losing control. Maybe it was something else entirely.

She clenched her jaw, finally turning to face you. “Where does this leave us?”

You met her gaze, your expression unreadable for a moment. Then, you gave a soft, almost tired smile.

“What even is this?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. It was a rare admission of uncertainty from her, and it made her feel exposed in a way she hated.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging slightly. “But does it really need to have a name? This...whatever this is...it can just be ‘this’ till we enjoy each other’s company.” You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I clearly enjoy yours. I don’t know about you.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes, but there was no real malice in the gesture. “You aren’t entirely intolerable,” she muttered under her breath, her voice softer than usual.

You laughed at that, a genuine laugh that seemed to lift some of the tension between you. “High praise coming from you,” you teased.

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t need to. The fact that she hadn’t immediately insulted you or walked away was enough of a response.

Then, after a moment, you stretched and yawned, clearly still recovering from the night’s chaos. “Anyway,” you said, “I clearly need coffee. Preferably not spiked" You took a few steps forward, then paused, looking back over your shoulder at her. “You coming?”

She sighed, her expression impassive as she finally moved to follow you.

Whatever this was, it went deeper than that. The things she did for you, the things you made her feel...they weren’t just born from friendship. But no, this wasn’t something romantic either, at least not yet. She wasn’t sure what it was.

And maybe, just for now, that was okay.

This didn’t need a name.

[notedchampagne]

finished reading exordia! its a book about people having fucked up relationships and making terrible decisions all while staying true to themselves. it took me a while to get into the flow because seth dickinson loves his slow buildup and 5 billion chess pieces and ultra-detailed sci-fi worldbuilding, but i think it all came together fantastically and im left with an emotion i cant parse after the ending.

my book rec below, no spoilers:

youll like this book if you like: unhealthy relationships, seeking out truth through well-done worldbuilding, fun new dynamics classifications! homestucks in looking at you; the agony of feeling like a wallflower and being at odds with your family (this is specifically targeted to one character, chaya panaguiton, a ugandan-filipino butch with issues on how she matters to other people), aliens that fascinate and disgust, morality questions, and ESPECIALLY meta commentary on the essence of narratives itself

things that may frustrate you about this book if youre not fond of them: multiple POVs, intricate details on worldbuilding, im talking physics and aircraft and geopolitics mentions - but to be fair, dickinson tends to be good at clearing up the more abstract concepts. he likes to retierate and reclassify terms he WANTS you to remember in metaphor upon metaphor, so if you have the patience then you wont mind - pop culture references (not a dealbreaker, just a bit annoying as someone who lives under a rock), loss and the feeling of grief piling upon itself trolley-question style. seth doesnt shy away from giving you death and loss to understand the gravity of the situation, and i think he is good at playing with tragedy and hope in this way.

you should definitely have a little translator app ready with you. theres a lot of interjections from multiple languages that give nice snippets of insight if you do translate them

[tinybitsubby]

Conflict is difficult in any relationship. If you practice D/s, it can make conflict easier to work through, but it’s also possible that it makes even harder. Power dynamics will always come into play when someone is hurt or feeling overlooked.

We had some conflict over the weekend. He hurt my feelings and it felt like he stole the joy out of a situation that usually makes me happy. I waited a bit and then told him he really hurt my feelings and it’s hard not to resent times he puts a dark cloud over things I love to do. He said he needed time to process the information.

It frustrates me when he wants time to process. Although it can be a healthy strategy for getting things right, and not just running with your first reaction, in that moment of letting him know I’m hurt, I’d really like some reassurance right then. I don’t think there’s any wisdom in trying to force the conversation if one party isn’t ready. So asked him to please let me know right away when he could talk about it.

Without D/s, I’m sure I wouldn’t respect the space he needed and would have instead pushed him to keep the conversation going. But he told me to give him space and I did. Understand that I can only do that because I know he loves me and I trust that we will be revisiting my hurt. This would not work with someone I cannot trust or that would just brush it off and never let it be brought back up.

He came to me after an hour or so (THAT FELT LIKE ETERNITY) and listened, apologized and we discussed how it might have been handled better. Before D/s it definitely would have blown up OR I might have just kept my feelings to myself. Just another way D/s is the right choice for us.

[nottheletterkay]

Songbird

“I’m not special. Not like her.”

“You’re not,” he said quickly, definitively.

“You’re special like you.”

Chapter 1

“Mom, we’ve been over this.” 

You exhaled for what felt like the millionth time when, in reality, you’ve only been on the phone with your mother for maybe twenty minutes.

“I’m just saying, honey, New York? You’ve lived a lot of places— dreamed about living a lot of places, and New York has never been on either of those lists,” she continued. “And it’s so far away…”

You could hear the irritation in her voice, but, even moreso, the sadness.

You rubbed at your face and threw your head back in silent frustration before proceeding with as much empathy and understanding as you could muster.

“Look, Mom, I know it isn’t ideal, but this will be really good for Maevis. I’ve done the research, I’ve saved the money, I’ve almost packed everything up– alone, as a single mother, might I add,” you sprinkled in that last part for comedic relief.

Based on her silence, it didn't quite land.

“It’s what’s best for her,” you concluded gently.

You could practically hear the gears turning in her head over the phone.

“I’m not saying I don’t want the absolute best for my grandbaby, but, come on. She’s barely five years old! Can’t the fancy, expensive, oh-so-far-away-from-your-family boarding schools wait until she’s at least in the double digits?”

That made you giggle, but you stood your ground. “This will be good for her, I promise. You’ll see.”

Your mind began to wander as you packed the last box in you and your daughter’s small apartment.

The truth is, your mother wouldn’t see-- not the real ways this new school would really be helping her granddaughter, anyway. 

See, you hadn’t actually done any research, and this wasn’t costing you anything, thank goodness, at least as far as tuition is concerned. In fact, you hadn’t heard of this school at all before Charles Xavier had found you.

Before he’d found Maevis.

She was so young. 

She was so young and what you knew about mutants was so scarce.

At first, it was easy to dismiss the early signs. To rationalize the flickering lights during bedtime temper tantrums. To convince yourself that it was certainly within the realm of her physical capabilities to throw a sippy cup at that velocity and distance after you had denied her another cookie. That was the only explanation as to how it could have ended up all the way across the kitchen in tiny, plastic shards… 

Right?

It wasn’t until the last couple of months that you’d finally admitted to yourself that Maevis’ behavior was something different.

Something special.

The times between her outbursts were growing shorter, and the destruction that took place during, becoming more profound.

You scolding her in the car turned into blinking, dysfunctional traffic lights. Telling her she couldn’t buy a toy at the store resulted in entire product displays toppling over. There were only so many times you could apologize to the store clerks for “being clumsy.”

Then there were  the more peculiar things, the things you knew there were no logical explanation for– the times you could not only perceive Maevis’ emotions, but could physically feel them. 

When she’d fallen off of her bike and you hurried to scoop her scared, crying frame, you swore you’d felt that scrape on your knee, too.

Or when you caught her trying to hide the potted plant she’d accidentally knocked over and reached for you in apology, it was her shame that coursed through your body.

It wasn’t normal. None of it was.

And that didn't matter to you because what was “normal,” anyway?

Your daughter was special.

But, even so, you couldn’t deny the fact that whatever was happening with Maevis was intensifying, and quickly, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that she could hurt someone else or herself.

You had to do something, you just didn’t know what.

That’s why when Professor Charles Xavier showed up at your doorstep that day, with that gorgeous, regal woman you’d come to know as Dr. Jean Grey, you knew in your bones there was no other option.

You hadn’t explained any of this to your mother, of course. How could you when you didn’t even understand it yourself? You would wait until you and Maevis were settled, until there was some semblance of understanding and control and routine and—

“Fine.” You startled at the sound of your mother’s voice, her words cutting your trip down memory lane rather short.

“I trust you. I’m just going to miss my girls, that’s all.”

“We’re gonna miss you, too, Mom,” you assured her. You really did understand her concern.

“But you can visit as much as you like, you know. Phoenix and New York City have some pretty accessible airports,” you joke nervously.

“Just, like, when we’re all settled in and I’m comfortable in my new classroom and all that,” you add a little too quickly.

You really did want her to visit, just… maybe not anytime soon.

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

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble under your breath as you approach the ancient, but, admittedly, beautiful stone building.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters

You giggled at the school’s name, propping your daughter a little higher on your hip. “Well, Maeve, you are a ‘youngster,’ that’s for sure.”

And she was.

In fact, according to Professor Xavier, she would the youngest student the school has had in… well, ever.

You recall your first conversation the two of you ever had.

You were in somewhat of a haze, trying to process all of the information the two strangers had just provided you with.

You had heard about mutants, of course, anyone with a television or ears had. But you’d never considered that you’d given birth to one.

At least, not until now.

 “I- I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Professor Xavier, but I-” you started, but honestly didn’t know where the sentence was going to end.

“Charles,” he corrected warmly. You tried your best to appear polite and collected as you continued to respond.

“Right, yes. Charles.” It sounded a bit strange addressing him so informally, especially after only having known him for, what? Maybe an hour?

“Again, I really appreciate this— Maevis and I both do, and I know shecould use the guidance, I just… I mean, do you even have a kindergarten at this school of yours?”

You understood how important it was for your daughter to receive guidance on her mutation; it wasn’t something you or any other neurotypical facility could offer her.

But the teacher in you– the mother in you–  couldn’t help but wonder about her academic and social development. She needed to be around kids her age, learning the same things they were.

Mutation or not, that was important, too, right?

“Of course it’s important, dear.”

You startled at the sound of Professor Xavier’s voice.

You didn’t say that out loud, did you?

With furrowed eyebrows, you started, “I’m sorry, did I-”

He only chuckled at your confusion. “No, you didn’t say that out loud. Reading the minds of others is one of my mutations,” the Professor explained, except you were watching his face the entire time and his mouth didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyebrows shot up in– what? Disbelief? Offense?

“I do apologize,” he started.

All you could do was blink at the man decidedly not talking to you.

“I try not to make a habit of reading the thoughts of those around me without their consent.”

You nodded skeptically as he continued and added half-heartedly, “and what about talking inside of their heads? Do you make a habit out of that?”

He found your sense of humor in what he considered to be a very heavy, very tricky situation, endearing.

“I do not,” he chuckled and continued, actually speaking this time. “But you’re right. Her academic and social development are just as important as refining her gift. And although she is the youngest student the academy will have ever enrolled, I can promise you we have the means to provide the resources that any child of her age could possibly require.”

He seemed so sure, so confident in this proposition.

You wish you could say the same about yourself.

He slowly inched closer to you before speaking again. 

“I understand your apprehension, but, surely, we can’t send her off to school down the street where she’ll be telekinetically tossing toys off of shelves in the classroom, or forcing her emotions onto every peer she so much as disagrees with on the playground,” Charles waved his hands in slight amusement.

You chewed your lip anxiously as you considered this.

You knew he was right.

But he said she was the youngest mutant to ever be offered enrollment at his school– the youngest mutant he, or anyone, has ever heard of manifesting their powers so early, period. If there weren’t any kids her own age at school, would she ever be able to be around normal kids her own age without risking hurting them?

Without risking hurting herself? 

Your heart sank at the true fear that had been festering deep within you since Maevis’ very first display of power.

Would she ever feel normal if you did this?

Would she ever feel normal at all?

You could feel your heart racing at the thought of all of this going painfully south.

“She will be able to be around kids her own age,” the Professor said, once again, snapping you out of your anxious spiraling.

“Think of this as…” he looked around the room, trying to come up with the words to convince you, “ a specialized homeschooling program. Dr. Grey and Ms. Munroe will teach her everything she needs to know, including that of a typical kindergarten academic curriculum, and as soon as she’s ready, we’ll make sure she is able to join her peers out there.” He motioned to the window displaying the outside of your apartment building as he said this, but his words implied a space much vaster.

You churned in consideration, but didn’t speak just yet.

“It’s what is safest for everyone. It’s what is safest for Maevis,” Professor Xavier emphasized.

You continued to bite your lip, glancing behind Professor Xavier at Dr. Grey, who only sat quietly with a look of never-ending patience upon her face.

Her demeanor is what finally had you nodding in agreement.

“Plus," the Professor added, "you’ll be at the academy, teaching just a few halls down. You’ll be there every step of the way.”

He’s right. This is what’s safest for everyone. For Maevis.

It’s what’s best for Maevis.

“Okay,” you said simply.

Both Professor Xavier and Dr. Grey smiled, and the genuine relief and joy you saw in their faces sort of made your chest ache. 

“This is what’s best for Maevis,” you repeated in your head.

“But,” you added, gaining the shocked attention of your guests, “ if we do this, please, ‘try not to read my mind without my consent’ anymore,” you quipped, only half joking. 

The Professor chuckled at that.

“Of course, dear.”

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

“Oh, it is so good to see you again!” Dr. Grey said earnestly, squeezing your shoulder in a way that made you feel slightly more at ease.

She turned to Maevis.

“And it’s good to see you again, too, you gorgeous girl.”

She clung to you rather tightly, but she still greeted Dr. Grey warmly, reaching for her face.

You panicked suddenly, not wanting Jean to be overwhelmed with whatever rollercoaster of emotions Maevis might be feeling right now.

It wasn’t a constant transfer of energy, but it was a powerful one.

“Oh, no, sweetie, remember, we can’t touch people’s bodies without asking them,” you gently remind her. She retracted her hand sadly, but you reassured her.

“It’s okay, Maev. But remember boundaries? We just have to be careful,” you tell her softly, nudging your nose gently against hers.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, almost ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”

Dr. Grey was watching the entire interaction affectionately. “That’s okay, Maevis,” she said. “Your mother is right,” she continued, looking between the two of you. “It is important to remember people’s boundaries, especially your own. You should always ask before you enter someone’s personal space.”

Maevis only nodded shyly in agreement.

“But,” Dr. Grey  added, “if it’s okay with you, and your mother, I would like for you to tell me hello again– the way you were going to.”

Both Dr. Grey  and Maevis were looking to you for approval now. “Oh. I mean…” You were nervous and you couldn’t pinpoint why. This is what you were here for– what Maevis was here for, right?

“I mean, of course,” you said. “As long as you’re comfortable with it, Maev,” you looked at her, waiting.

Maevis looked between the two of you before speaking. “I’m comfortable,” she said, reaching for Dr. Grey’s face again. “I can show you my feelings.”

You smiled. Something about her referring to this part of her mutation as “showing her feelings” always felt so innocent. So delicate. Like there was no part of this that was dangerous or unmanageable.

Of course, that wasn’t reality.

As soon as Maevis’ hand touched Dr. Grey’s face, it was like she was somewhere else– lost in her mind.

Or, rather, Maevis’ mind.

A small smile spread across her face as she gripped the tiny hand that was touching her cheek a little tighter.

Finally, Maevis retracted.

“Incredible,” Dr. Grey said, breathless. “You are a very special person, Maevis.”

Your daughter only smiled and nuzzled into your neck.

“She is,” you agreed, smiling.

“And we here at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters are thrilled to, not only have her as a pupil, but to have her remarkable mother teaching at the institute as well.”

You turned around to follow Dr. Grey’s gaze, not surprised to see Professor Xavier gliding across the large foyer to greet you. 

You smiled, “Hello, Professor. Say hello, Maevis,” you say, waving your hand in example.

“Hi, Charles,” you daughter smiled and did the same. Professor Xavier returned the gesture before adding, “At least one of you remembered to call me Charles,” he said.

You both chuckled at that before he continued.

“We are so happy you’re here with us, dear,” he said with that same genuineness he had at your first meeting.

Before you could respond, assuring him that you were just as happy to be here, he continued.

“There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

You almost didn’t notice the two people next to him, which was shocking, considering one of them was the most breathtaking woman– all dark skin, crystal eyes, and hair white as snow, and the other is probably the largest man you’ve ever seen in person.

“What a hot couple,” you think to yourself.

The gorgeous woman extends her hand, an unsurprisingly perfect smile aimed directly at you.

“Hey, there. I’m Ororo Munroe, but the kids like to call me Storm. I’ll be Maevis’ primary educator during her time here at the academy.”

You shake her hand and introduce yourself before she turns her attention to the little girl in your arms.

“And you must be the lady of the hour, “ Ms. Munroe says to Maevis brightly. “I am so happy to meet you, sweetie. I’ll be your new teacher.”

Maevis is anything but reserved, so she takes to her almost immediately.

You wondered if it’s her extroverted nature that makes all of this go smoothly, or if there’s some unspoken tether that mutants feel between one another. 

That would make sense, especially in an evolutionary regard. It could be why Maevis has been so inexplicably drawn to Dr. Grey since meeting her.

You try to ignore the unexpected twinge you feel in your stomach at that thought.

You’re pulled out of this strange line of thinking at the sound of the tree trunk of a man now speaking. 

“I’m Logan.”

He doesn’t extend a hand.

In fact, he doesn’t make a move to do or say anything more, and you kind of just stand there expectantly.

You figured, if he’s as friendly as everyone else you’ve met so far, he might throw in a, “nice to meet you”?

A school title?

A cool, somewhat unnecessary superhero nickname?

As if reading your mind, he adds, “Logan’s fine.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in realization.

“Wait, can you read minds, too?” you ask.

Storm, Charles, and Jean all laugh, but Logan only half-smiles. 

“No, he’s just a smartass,” Ms. Munroe chides, then immediately covers her mouth, eyes darting between you and Maevis.

“I am so sorry. Oh my gosh, little ears! I haven’t been around a child this young in… well, like, ever. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes go even wider somehow and she smacks herself in the forehead.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I truly didn’t even realize I cursed this much,” she all but screams, then turns to her friends. “How come none of you told me I had such a potty mouth?!”

You’re full on giggling now as you reach with your free had to give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay! Seriously, it’s okay. I don’t always have the most restraint around her, either, and I’m her mother. Unfortunately, she has heard worse,” you laugh and feel relieved when the Professor, Dr. Grey, and Ms. Munroe all laugh alongside you and don’t give you that stuffy, judgey look that most people do when you accidentally (or not so accidentally) curse around your daughter.

You all chat for a few more minutes, everyone’s excitement becoming more apparent. 

Well, almost everyone. 

Logan seemed uninterested, to say the least. This didn’t necessarily bother you, though; you understood that not everyone is experienced with or comfortable around children. You weren’t going to fault him for that if that were the case. 

It just confused you more than anything. 

Ms. Munroe would be leading Maev’s academics, Dr. Grey would be her mentoring her in her mutation, Professor Xavier had sought the two of you out and was acting Dean of the school— everyone had their purpose, so it seemed.

So what was Logan’s?

“I’m here to help you get settled in.”

You blinked in surprise.

How did he do that?

“You’re really not reading my mind?” you ask, skeptically.

He almost laughed at that.

“Doesn’t take a telepath to recognize a confused stare,” he replied.

He voice was gruff, but his tone was light.

That didn’t stop your face from heating up with embarrassment, though.

Were you really staring?

“Logan teaches history in the classroom adjacent to yours,” Professor Xavier added. 

“A perfect fit, considering he was alive for most of it,” Dr. Grey prodded, nudging Logan slightly in the ribs.

He scoffed while everyone else chuckled and looked down at her with a soft smile.

The way she was gazing up at him made you think maybe he and Ms. Munroe were, in fact, not the hot couple in this equation.

“Your and Maevis’ new living quarters are also located in the same wing of the mansion as his. I figured it was most logical for him to help you get adjusted, “ Charles finished.

“That, and his welcoming personality,” Ms. Munroe added, faux excitement absolutely dripping with sarcasm, clapping Logan on the shoulder in jest.

You smiled, admiring the relationship between the four of them, affectionate and comfortable.

Even Logan in his own reserved, somewhat brooding way.

Although their histories, both individual and relational, were unclear to you, they were a family, you could see that.

Anyone could.

Dr. Grey suddenly made a surprised sound.

“Oh, shoot!” she said, collecting herself. “I have session with a student in less than five minutes— I should get going.”

You mouthed a wordless, “oh,” in understanding, adjusting Maevis to rest on your other hip.

Goodness, she’s getting so big.

Turning to the two of you, she continues, “Again, we are so happy to have you. All of this is just such a gift,” she says with that sincere tone that makes you want to burst into tears.

She murmurs her goodbye to the others, walking away, lightly squeezing Logan’s abnormally large bicep on the way.

“Professor, we should really get going, too if we’re going to make it to New Student Orientation on time, “ says Ms. Munroe.

“Ah, yes,” Professor Xavier agrees, repositioning his chair. “Well, dear, I hope you enjoy getting acquainted with the mansion. And please let me know if you or Maevis need anything at all.”

He turns to look at Logan, the two of them locking eyes momentarily as if having a fleeting, silent conversation of their own. 

Which, you now realize, is totally possible.

As the Professor fades into the distance of the ever-growing hallway, you feel a stiff, awkward tension begin to form between you and Logan.

He isn’t nearly as welcoming or chatty as the others, and you know yourself. If you sit in this uncomfortable silence for too long, you’re going to start rambling and its going to be painful for everyone.

“I can show you your room,” Logan interrupts your self-deprecating line of thinking, grabbing the suitcase at your side and starting off without so much as a word to you or Maev.

You pucker your lips in submission.

“Cool. Right behind you,” you mutter a little sarcastically.

Maevis giggles and mimics you a little louder: “Cool! Right behind you!”

You can’t help but laugh with her as you follow Logan down the long hall, up the winding stairs, and into your new life.

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

This is my first marvel fanfiction! It's definitely going to be a series, I just don't know how long yet. Ahh, hope you like it so far.

[iniziare]

ignoring aventurine's blatant gay coding is really something

Other things have had me a little salty this morning, so in case that influences my perception of how you intended this, my sincere apologies. Either way, forgive me for being serious for a moment, but I want to use this as a PSA to make a point going forward on this blog.

I have nothing against opposing views, and I have nothing against people disagreeing with me, but what I have something against on principle, are potentially snarky messages like this one that seem to have only one aim, which is to try and taint my character by making insinuations that are wholly unfounded (that you think me to be anti-LGBT?) and based on something that you genuinely cannot draw any such thing from. Now whether Aventurine is 'gay-coded' as you so put it, or a bisexual man (on which note: it's real saddening to see that in 2024, in-house fighting against bisexuality's mere existence still reigns supreme, good job, you're really making admirable strides) doesn't matter for what I'm going to touch on. Although out of respect for the character himself and the person who wrote him, I can't move on without noting that you may want to reread some character stories, some dialogues (particularly things said by the Harmony to him, for instance), to see whether that seals your faith in your claim, or diminishes it. Either way, I want to remind you: being bisexual doesn't reduce the significance of being drawn to the same sex.

Alright, continuing what I was saying: messages like these don't accomplish anything, outside of making you feel like you're on a pedestal; is it cold up there? I don't envy you. In all seriousness however, in all my years on any of my blogs, I have always aimed to be canon-strict with my portrayals, with which I set myself up for something that I deem imperative for myself in RP: to be criticized by the masses. I have always tried to engage with my follower base, I have always encouraged them to come to me if I'm wrong on something, I value people trying to poke holes in my logic. And if you succeed in proving that I overlooked something, I will happily admit it, and stand corrected. In that, I aim to say that I thoroughly enjoy debate and discussion (based in rationale, and not feelings), which I think are fundamental to our society even outside of Tumblr. If someone disagrees with me, my notes are open, if you want to question something that I think or have posted, my askbox (as you've learned and have made use of) is open. But all I ask is that you open a line of healthy debate with me, and not send something that is entirely baseless if you don't even substantiate your claim in your same message. But also, what I don't understand is that my post doesn't even directly diminish the popular Aventurine/Ratio ship in the fandom, it instead simply expresses frustration that not more people see the depth of the Aventurine/Topaz dynamic, and recognize it as a good ship as well, because there is a lot within the game that aims at a definite potential there. Granted, yes, that comes with having to acknowledge that Aventurine may just be a bisexual man who is also into women, but if that's something that doesn't sit quite right with you, then maybe the issue that you're pointing at me, should be returned to you, the one who initially pointed the accusatory finger here.

Again, if you want to have a conversation about this and tell me why you think that I'm wrong by substantiating your own claim, you're very welcome to, and I'd be happy to engage with you. But until then, this is all that I have for you. And before I might get a 'why do I need to substantiate my thing, Sae', it's nothing against you personally, and instead it's the simple 101 of debate. You disagree with a point that I make? Then it is up to you to tell me why you disagree, so that I can give you a fruitful counter that you can then do something with.

Regardless of the intention of your message, anon, I wish you a good day, and I hope that it's raining less over there, wherever you may be, than it is over here. I'm not motivated to go get my groceries!

[sugarushwriting]

vampire enhypen ot7, you’re their human blood bank (part eight and last part!!) (or is it the end?)

last part! thank you for loving this series, that i didn’t expect to be a series!

also i realized mfc roomies name is jen 🤦🏽‍♀️ pls ignore that and imagine two different jens

not proof read.

reblog, like, comment, share but please do not repost or translate.

again, i am not shipping any le sserafim girls with enhypen, especially ni-ki and eunchae!!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

a few days passed and jay felt like he lost all authority of the guys. ni-ki was ignoring him and all the other guys, they couldn’t find him after he disappeared in the middle of the night. he hadn’t showed up to classes the rest of the week.

they lost you. you ignoring every effort of them trying to reach out. again, it hurt you to ignore jake and the younger ones, but you couldn’t be sure they were genuinely concerned or doing it because of jay and sunghoon.

sunghoon was pissed at jay as well. jay was still angry with jake. jake was just trying to focus on classes but he missed your taste and blood.

jungwon only got to feed on you once, and his body was definitely craving your blood. heeseung tried to help him feed on another human safely, but it seemed his body rejected the blood.

soon it would be sunoos turn to feed on a human, and he was less than thrilled.

jay stood in the middle of the library in the house that you loved so much. your scent lingering behind. he sighed in frustration, more at himself.

“jay.” sunghoon caught his attention.

jay turned around. “yeah.”

“we have trouble.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the trouble? sakura called in a friend.

bang chan, also known as chris. he was an elder vampire, even older than jay by a decade. but not only was he a vampire, but a vampire—werewolf hybrid.

bang chan brought two of his own vampires, lee know and seungmin.

“thank you for coming so quickly.”

“of course.”

bang chan lived not too far away, but stayed low. he didn’t just take in vampires, but all supernatural creatures that don’t have a family or their original living arrangements didn’t work out.

ni-ki bowed to the oldest.

“you must be ni-ki.” bang chan smiled.

bang chan explained how he made sure all supernatural creatures learned to live among humans all while balancing their other lifestyle.

he has fairies, a banshee, a ghoul, other vampires, werewolves and so much more he helps and takes care of.

“i could come with you?”

“if you want. i understand your original living plans may not be going the way it should?”

ni-ki shook his head, “he’s threatening to send me to switzerland.”

“sounds like good ole jay. just hauling newbies off when he finds it too hard.” lee know laughed.

you soon came down the stairs surprised by the handsome men in the living room.

“is she a creature needing a living space too?” lee know asked.

“no. she’s a human hiding from the guys. they poisoned her to keep her at bay to behave.” sakura answered.

“jay has become more unhinged since the last i have seen him.” bang chan said and looked at sakura. “basically since he last had you, when you were human.”

“they know we’re in town.” seungmin whispered.

he was talking about jay and sunghoon. bang chan looked back to the younger one. “do they know where exactly?”

“they shouldn’t, i made sure they couldn’t track us.” sakura said.

“that’s why we couldn’t smell you all.” bang chan nodded. “smart.”

sakura got a phone call from one of the girls.

“we’re being followed by them.” kazhua said.

sakura already knew who she meant by them. sakura looked at the three vampires in her living room.

“lead them here. it’s fine.” sakura answered then hung up.

kazuha and eunchae led sunghoon and jay straight to the seraphims house, pretending they didn’t know they were being followed.

both girls entered the house, greeting the three men. sakura made quick introductions, then a knock came at the door.

“oh how nice for them to knock.” bang chan laughed.

sakura went to open the door, jay and sunghoon pushed past her but stopped when they came eye to eye with bangchan.

“hello men.” he smirked. he knew those two had no power over him. bangchan was one of the strongest living supernatural creatures there was.

jay didn’t even acknowledge him. “ni-ki, pack your things, you’re coming home with us.”

“no, you’ll just send me to switzerland!”

jay shook his head. “i realized i over reacted. i promise not to send you to switzerland.”

“why? so you can chain me in the basement instead?”

sunghoon made eye contact with you. “babydoll.” he said barely above a whisper. he couldn’t even recognize his own voice.

your heart fluttered at hearing sunghoons voice. “hi hoonie.”

he went to step closer to you, but stopped himself. “babydoll, how are you?”

“she’s fine now that she’s not poisoned by you.” kazhua spat.

sunghoon frowned. “i am so sorry.” he was defeated. you were special to them.

jay was fighting his emotions. his family was basically falling apart. jake was ignoring him, sunoo and jungwon was tiptoeing around him, ni-ki had ran away, sunghoon and heeseung was frustrated with him.

most of all, he lost you. he betrayed you and your trust. and because of that, his own clan was struggling. but he just needed you to know you belonged to them and no one else.

he didn’t like the idea that you may be going off with bangchan and his clan.

jay looked up at you with pleading eyes. “love, i am so so sorry for how i treated you and made the guys treat you.” jay stepped closer to you, you instinctively stepped back. “love, please don’t go off with them.”

you looked at him surprised. “you think i was going to leave with them?” you pointed towards bangchan and the other two guys.

eunchae shook her head. “she wants to become a seraphim.”

everyone in that room looked at you in shock. eunchae was tired of holding onto what you asked her last night.

“absolutely not! i will not lose another love!” jay yelled in anger. then looked to sakura with pleading eyes. in order for you to become a seraphim you would have to die. you knew that much.

“what’s the point of me staying human if i grow older and you all stay the same huh? what happens then jay?” you argued once again. “like i have stated, i refuse to be at your beck and call for the rest of my life!”

“fine! you wanna become a supernatural creature?”

no one, not even bangchan saw what was coming next. jay used his vampire speed to pass everyone, to get to you.

you couldn’t even realize he was in front of you until he sunk his teeth into your neck. this time, it felt different. it didn’t feel like jay was feeding. no, this stung, terribly. you screamed out in pain.

you heard screaming, gasping, your named being yelled, jays name being yelled, and then jay ripped off of you.

all before you blacked out.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“babydoll, wake up please.” you heard sunghoons pleading voice.

“jay has lost his damn mind!” jake said next.

“what the hell is wrong with him?” this was heeseungs voice.

“it’s his emotions.” you think that was bangchan. “he’s blinded by her like he was sakura. but this time, he refused to lose her.” bangchan sighed. “he went against his morals to keep the woman he wanted.”

“but now we won’t even be able to feed off of her. her blood is like ours!” jake stated in worry. oh how he was going to miss your taste.

“not necessarily,” bangchan offered, “her body still needs to accept or reject the change.”

you squirmed. what does he mean accept or reject? you slowly opened your eyes, realizing you were at the boys house, in sunghoons room. you had a cold towel pressed on your forehead, a mini heart monitor attached to your finger.

“baby, you’re awake!” jake smiled in relief and went up next to you to grab your hand.

bangchan asked, “how are you feeling?”

“like hell.” you answered with a groan. “what do you mean accept or reject?”

bangchan didn’t beat around the bush. instead simply and straightforwardly answered your question. “when someone gets turned into a vampire, their body will either reject the transformation or accept it. by accepting it, you turn into a newbie. by rejecting, you’ll either return back to a human with some complications or die.” bangchan explained. “we’ll know in the next 12 hours what your body does.”

“what kind of complications?” you asked.

“there’s no limit or straight answer. some who have rejected the change became blind, or mute, or deaf. they’ve became paralyzed. some develop paranoia, ptsd, and other mental disorders. some end up getting tumors or cancer. very rare has those who rejected the change return to their normal self.”

“im gonna kill him.” sunghoon said under his breath.

“no need for that, let’s see how she does, first.” bangchan said trying to ease the tension. “remember, you all said she was special. it’s very rare a vampire loses all their morals and senses over a human. there must be a reason.”

“any ideas?” sunghoon asked.

“there’s a few,” bangchan began. “all of you say she’s special, at least the ones that have fed on her. and there’s some reasons to that. her blood could have a rare genetic marker that makes you all more attracted to her. it could be simple as her blood type is rare and more diserable. or it could be symbolic.”

“symbolic how?” you asked now interested yourself.

“a human who’s special to a vampire can represent the human side or humanity that vampires lost once they became what they are. a reminder of their past life of what they once were. it causes an emotional attachment and significance.”

“what was it for sakura?” you asked.

“her blood type was rare and more desirable back then.” sunghoon answered. “same for kazuha. the more we fed the more we bonded with them through their blood.”

“what happens if my body accepts the change?”

“you’ll have to feed on jays blood to complete the change.”

“and if i don’t?”

“you die.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay was being watched heavily by lee know, seungmin, sakura, and kazuha. eunchae stayed back at the house with ni-ki, and jen, chae and garam showed up to keep them company after what they witnessed.

jay was surprised by his own self. he’s never went against his morals. he vowed to never bite a human to change them unless they were close to dead and agreed to become a vampire.

“i don’t need a babysitter.” jay huffed.

“if she dies, i will rip your head off myself.” sakura snapped. “another human doesn’t deserve to die because of you.” sakura wanted to cry but she stayed strong.

“sakura, im so sorry.” jay apologized.

“centuries too late buddy.”

sunghoon walked into the living room where jay was being watched. jay stood up quickly, “how is she? any change? any idea of what her body will do?”

“she’s okay for now, she’s awake. no worries or ideas yet. she’s aware her body may accept or reject and bangchan explained what may happen if her body rejects it. bangchan even explained why we could be so attached to her.” sunghoon said.

“why are yall so possessive of her?” sakura asked. “is her blood that rare like how mine and kazuhas was? it’s the 21st century, im sure her rare blood type is more out there than before.”

sunghoon shook his head. “im not sure. she doesn’t remind me of my past before i became a vampire.”

jay shook his head. “me niether.”

“then it could be a genetic marker in her blood.” lee know offered as insight. “meaning she could come from a line of heritage that is just meant to be a human blood bank for vampires.”

“meaning she was made to be fed on by vampires.” seungmin summarized.

“then why aren’t yall going crazy for her? is it because you all haven’t tasted her?” sakura asked.

lee know shook his head. “she smells sweet, but not something i want. she is made for jay and his line of vampires, meaning, everyone he’s turned.”

“if we taste her, she may either taste normal or bitter to us.” seungmin added. “it also means someone in her family has the same genetic marker and was fed on by a descendant of jays. whether it be a great-great grandmother or great aunt or uncle, or whatever. there’s no pattern on how many generations it skips or passes down to.”

“if that’s the case, then her body will reject the change because she’s not meant to be a vampire.” bangchan spoke up as he came down to the living room. “if her genetic make up is made for her being fed on, then she’ll reject the change, survive, and go back to normal, hopefully with no complications. we just have to wait and see.”

“that still doesn’t excuse your behavior!” sakura scolded. “poor eunchae and ni-ki are probably traumatized!”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

12 hours later, you felt the same. you didn’t feel sick, you didn’t feel stronger, you felt like the same ole plain you. your body rejected the change with no complications.

bangchan explained the reasoning behind that. your genetic marker and why you’re so special.

“so i still grow old, they’ll be young, and eventually throw me to the curb?” you sighed.

bangchan shrugged. “not necessarily, weirder things have happened.”

you realized you do have a bond with these boys, and it started when jay took note of you in class. when your eyes met, you knew there was something special, some different. when he told you about him and the other guys, you weren’t scared, it almost felt normal.

you were stuck with them and you were okay with that.

little did you know, it was your great-great-great grandmother who carried the genetic marker. she was special to jays father. jays father fed on her and continues to with his wife, jays mom.

yes, that is right. your great-great-great grandmother is still alive. after she died, jays dad found a witch to bring her back to her young human form so he could continue to feed with the one blood he had a bond with.

jays dad would make sure his son knew the truth, when it came time to say goodbye to you and how he could keep you alive and young.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[anamericangirl]

I think we should just pass a law that says that a fetus must always be referred to as "him/her" instead of "it." I can't help but notice every pro-choice or pro-abortion person on earth refers to unborn babies as "it" and I always think of those criminal psychology videos where the guy with the gruff voice says "They refer to her as 'my victim' because they're removing the humanity from the person they killed. They lack empathy for the human life they ended."

It's really fascinating to go through pro-choice blogs and see the pattern. They all refer to the fetus as "it."

"Abort IT"

"The choice to get rid of IT"

"Whether they want to keep IT or not"

Etcetera.

Imagine if all of them could remain pro-choice all they want, could get abortions all they want, but by law had to refer to the fetus as, when said out loud or in text, "him or her."

I feel like the number of pro-choicers would start to rapidly diminish if they were forced to refer to the fetus they're aborting as humanizing pronouns.

I totally agree that using “it” can definitely be dehumanizing language. You can kind of do it without thinking with how much it has seeped into society. I mean I’ve definitely done it before without even thinking because that was the language I heard and I had to make a conscious effort to stop.

But I for sure don’t think there should be a law that tells people what language to use. I don’t think compelled speech is ever a good idea or appropriate. And truthfully I don’t think there would be less pro-aborts, it would just be harder to tell who they were.

We need the people who have the bad ideologies and dehumanize others to be able to vocalize that so we know who they are.

Passing laws on what people can and cannot say never helps anything.

For people, like pro-aborts, who dehumanize others to justify murder and mistreatment, passing laws that dictate what language they are and aren’t allowed to use is not going to change their minds.

[the-woman-upstairs]

It’s just…so painful to watch Armand readily submit in order to obtain the love he so desperately craves. And while it’s most assuredly a manipulative tactic, it’s still one borne out of fear and desperation. He cannot lose this person he’s come to love and so will become whatever they want, do whatever they want just so they’ll stay with him. But it won’t be enough. No matter how much he acquiesces or seeks to control (himself, others, the environment), he won’t be able to make Louis stay with him in the perfect life, perfect self he built in the hopes of finally being loved. It will all crumble with Armand left alone in the rubble of what he created, the author of his own abandonment.

[totalspiffage]

Not to flaunt my gender but I love being a dude that looks like a girl when I'm a guy actually also. I love having a full chest and an alto voice and being a man at the same time. I love my identity as it contrasts and aligns with how I'm perceived by others.

[oshiawaseni]

My sibling, who is an anime only said they would not be surprised if BKDK became canon considering the depth of their relationship, their interactions, and their character development regarding each other ... despite how Bones added in Izuocha scenes and cut out some critical BKDK moments in most of the seasons so far... And, seeing how one-sided the "love" is between Izuocha, which I believe is deep admiration as of reading the manga- I have to say I agree.

Izuocha, is fine on the surface but is unhealthy. Izuku would not pay attention to Ochaco they he would need to if they were in a relationship. And Ochaco only saw "Hero Deku" rather than all of "Izuku", which would cause her to unknowingly encourage Izuku's reckless self-sacrificial behavior.

BKDK is different because not only they know each other beyond the surface level, but they also have their sights on each other and the mere presence of their partner inspires them to become better and stronger people at heart because they have genuine love for each other...

I honestly do not understand what is in the Dudebros' mind other the fact that they are lacking emotional intelligence and critical thinking... but I will just enjoy what they are missing. (Sorry for rambling...)

Hi anon! Sorry it took me a bit to get back to you (reason in tags). Let me just reply to your ramblings with some ramblings of my own :)

I actually really enjoyed Season 6. The only thing I faulted Bones for, was creating that jarring opening that made out like Ochaco was the hero of the retrieve vigilante Deku mission (which sadly only fueled izuochas more on mhatwt), when it was 1000% Katsuki's doing and there is one panel which proves this beyond a shadow of a doubt.

See this? Who is the one standing in front of Shoto and Tokoyami, addressing the whole class? It's Katsuki! Not Ochaco! She was seated with everyone else. This is why it's so frustrating when they say she was the reason Izuku was brought back to U.A. That arc was all about Katsuki's feelings for Izuku and wanting to return his smile.

He was even so worried he lost sleep over it, wondering where Izuku was, if he was okay… he must have stayed awake in bed, thinking and thinking about Izuku and how he could get him back. Katsuki was used to Izuku being by his side, and it was the first time Izuku had willingly left it. It provided him clarity about how important* Izuku was in his life, which only made him worry even more. (*see also: crucial, vital, imperative, watch me emotionally die slowly inside if you aren't around me anymore.)

Katsuki losing sleep, at a time Izuku was not sleeping was such a symbiotic soul mates power move Hori added in for flavour. I love it SOOO freaking much. There are no lengths this man won't go, to prove how in sync they are with each other, how much they need each other, the empathy they share with each other, even on a completely spiritual level where they share in each other's sufferings, *without even knowing it* such as right here, just like Katsuki wants to share all of Izuku's burdens so that he's not crushed by them.

But with that said, though Bones really dropped the ball on the opening (and 5 previous seasons...*ahem*), there were a lot of curious changes that happened in season 6 that I did love, like Izuku dropping the "tachi" in his sentence which turned his line into "He hurt the person I love…" (instead of people)

and as we saw more of these additional changes Bones made, it got us wondering, did Hori have some regrets with the manga that he was unhappy about and wanted their romance to be more obvious? Was it only natural to get anime viewers up to speed before season 7, because they were going to find out through manga spoilers that Katsuki and Izuku are actually in love? I'd like to think so.

Changes I remember off the top of my head:

Reaching out for little Izuku's hand during Katsuki Bakugou Rising

Katsuki waking up and thinking "Deku…" and remembering his Rising sacrifice and being still hurt from it.

Izuku waiting until he was in Katsuki's arms before he apologised, which made their words of "I'm sorry" and "I know" more intimate and personal to each other. Like Izuku needed Katsuki's forgiveness the most, and Katsuki needed to let Izuku feel that he understands him the most.

Izuku's little "Ka-..." (the English dub did not catch it but I know other dubs did) as he was passing out, which made the entire hug scene feel so much more romantic.

"I'm gonna say your name when I wake up" vs "I'm gonna say your name when I fall asleep." BkDk: Always on each other's minds. All the time.

And one of the most interesting changes of all…

So get this, Ochaco gets a hand hold grab in the opening which canon-wise holds about as much weight as an "illustration" … and in the actual anime content, she grabs his wrist area instead of his hand like in the manga. Making her hand hold IN THE CANON CONTENT so impersonal. Almost as if to make up for the horrible opening they made. Why this was done still remains a mystery to us today… but I hope it's because Horikoshi asked them to make Izuocha stop being seen like a couple, and more like the friends they are.

And then, about the "brothers" "friends" comments antis love to make about bkdk. Well yeah, they're coping. In fact, Hori has shied away from labeling them friends several times when he could have! "Midoriya-kun is our friend" says Iida - with multiple people from the class, including Ochaco, presented in the panel… and Katsuki is nowhere to be found.

Or like when sAFO called Katsuki "Izuku's closest person" (motto mo naka ga ii) where it would have been WAY more natural to call him "shinyu," aka, "best friend." But that's the thing, Hori runs away from calling them friends like it's the plague LMAO

Really makes you wonder… was sAFO (I'd rather just call it AFO at this point because it's his personality being dominant vs Katsuki) alluding to hidden romantic feelings Izuku hides for Katsuki that his secret gaydar quirk picked up? Could be. In a way, at the time it happened, it felt to me like Horikoshi himself was talking to us through him, telling us very explicitly, "You're damn right. They're gay."

Either way, skirting around this label for them is being done on purpose by Hori. Like his hidden way of saying "Yeah they might be acting a bit more like the best friends they were always meant to be as kids, but their feelings for each other are not 'friendly' AT ALL. Because platonic friendship is not where these two are headed." And there are STILL hidden feelings they haven't managed to say to each other yet! The content Horikoshi has been itching to draw for YEARS that he is finally getting to. All that soft bkdk romance we've been waiting for is coming SO SOON!!! and I am HERE for it anon! 🔥

2023 will forever be known as the year of BkDk canon... these are very exciting times. <3

[screamingfromuz]

Ok, fine, let's talk about why sometimes I fucking hate identity politics. Your identity, your lived experience, does not make you automatically right about a subject that is not your personal experience.

your identity is important because it gives you a certain perspective that is unique to your lived experience, which can allow a more meaningful examination of subjects, it does not mean you are automatically right about something or have a higher moral standing grounds.

here is a timely example, I have been hearing a lot of "listen to the holocaust survivors! they have a higher moral ground! they know better then everyone what it looks like! their perspective must be better!" as if to say that because they survived the holocaust they must have a higher understanding of horrors. this is bullshit, and my timely example is Henry Kissinger (Oh yeah baby, we are going there). The guy fled the Nazis as a child, does it give him the moral high ground? does it means his understanding of abusive governments is the definitive authority? NO! that fucker was the living embodiment of the end justify the means and he was ready to sacrifice everyone and everything if it meant preserving what he decided is the USian interests. If I would have tried to give him the moral high ground just because he survived the Nazis people will justifiably call foul!

Being a victim or being from a victimized group does not makes you automatically right about everything! Abuse victims can still be toxic and abusive. I will give another example that is gonna piss some people off (GOOD):

being a woman does not give you a monopoly on defining what is and is not abuse and sexual harassment. Yes, women has more experience in the matter but for fuck sake I cannot even count how many times women I know refused to admit blatant abuse and sexual harassment. Or on the flip side, I saw women call innocent things abusive and sexual harassment! their womanhood did not gave them the definitive authority on the matter.

I know rape victims that advocates that all men are monsters and seek to abuse women. Will you say that they are more right than others because they were abused by a man? Does their experience give them the definitive authority on masculinity?

and you know what, in for a penny in for a pound. In Israel the families of the fallen get a kind of saintly position, where their word is given higher regards then other citizens, and let me tell you people, that is fucking bullshit. Having lost a family member in a war or a terrorist attack does not mean that you are automatically know better! I have heard so much bullshit from some of those families, and people don't call it out because it was a Shacol Family!

and this goes to everyone! if you lost a family member to a shitty situation you do not automatically know how to fix the broken system that killed them! Being right about the way to fix the system is what makes you right about it!

Grief does not makes you superior to others, or make you more right, it just makes your a grieving person.

don't get me wrong, your experiences and identity does give you important perspective and it should be taken in account when examining stuff, and can even help you develop a perspective for matters that can offer deeper understandings. you are always right about your own experiences.

still doesn't make you automatically right about all the other stuff, like the experiences of others. or how the world should work.

So the next person that tells me that someone is automatically right about everything based on their identity alone and not facts, can fuck off. Your identity and experiences does not means shit if you are fucking wrong.