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yuri-for-businesswomen · 11 months

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What you said about men not getting horny for their partners and only use them to get off...

It disturbs me that most men are like that. I feel so stigmatized for being single like I have had 2 therapists stigmatize me and suggest there was something wrong with me, and would ask intrusive questions about my sexual and dating history, and even with the information I gave them, would judge me and I felt insane with these therapists like... men are the reason a lot of women go to psch hospital and end up in hospitals, like this whole male dominated system is oppressive and oppression is not good for mental health?!

Anyway, because of how most men are, I expressed to a shrink that I was sad I had not experienced romantic love, she was questioning why I could not experience that now/ really pushed for and assumed I wanted a partner and not grasping betrayal trauma at all.

Like my father was asserting dominance over me.

I had an on and off again dynamic with someone I was dating and that was when he got more threatening and creepy towards me, every time he'd make a sexual remark about my body and how "oh he'd like that" and I'd get upset, he'd say he was "just joking " and "this is how guys are" (in reference to the fact I was 15, and he was comparing his attraction to me to that of a boy my age. Like, he'd make crass comments about me in a bikini and how he'd like to see that.. we were mormon too so I was very uncomfortable. He molested me when I was 4 and I repressed that memory until I was 19, but I thought he was just joking and I was a coward with something wrong with me, that's how I coped because my mother medicated me and pathologized my fears; my family system doesn't hate abusers, they hate truth tellers, we are estranged now since I left the church and cut ties with my father. I am traumatized by it. )

I feel a rage and anguish over my experiences because I learned my father was abusive/ became conscious through my relationships with the boys growing up (left the church because parents normally encourage marriage and my father would tell me if I didn't like his behavior, then to stay away from guys, essentially, was confusing and my mother said he was not being gross or wrong or abusive... she'd tell everyone I had special needs adn things like that....)

I feel impure and guilty for the abuse, anger over being treated like an object, and expressed sadness over basically the fact that my mind is forever messed up by it and I am sad and feel regret over a sense of not experiencing a healthy sexuality..

my first intimate experience that I initiated did feel loving/caring, like he did care about pleasure/wanted me to feel good, (he did not watch porn were both only 15/pretty sheltered from it, but I have never felt safe with a member of the opposite sex since,) it made me dissociate because it didn't feel real, then I froze and pulled away and sometimes look back feeling like a coward and feel a deep regret and shame over not experiencing and exploring a healthy sexuality because I feel that is so rare. I feel repulsed and violated and being gate kept, basically froze up realizing my body wasn't "mine" like my father genuinely viewed me as his property, so I rejected him as a means to protect myself. Was humiliating to be touching feely/intimate and not even kiss/prevented him from doing so because if we were a "thing" I was afraid I might get humiliated, felt like a coward/responsible for not standing up for myself, like I let it happen.

*my father molested me and would share sexual things to me and talkl to me about how sex feels good, makes me want to kill myself. He'd say "this is how guys are" and then would humiliate/cat call me in front of people when some guy was just... speaking to me platonically, he even sexualized my relationship with my brother and I, my brother, I suspect, developed feelings for me and avoided me because of it, never harassed or violated me like my father but never defended or protected me either, stood by the sidelines and in his room, didn't speak to me ever. *

I mal adaptive day dream all the time that my experiences were different, to wash over the filth.

I feel like if i had experienced a. healthy sexuality, I wouldn't feel such violation and shame. I am scared of men now and don't want a bf, I do feel rage over how growing up that was not a choice and i was raised in a cult that talked about free agency, while having a father who said shit like "don't tell guys you are on birth control, or they will think they can have sex with you"; the controlling behavior gives me the creeps. I don't think I will ever fully come to terms with it. I feel murderous rage and anguish all the time. I hate men. My father is the first man who took pleasure in humiliating and violating me, even told me I was pretty when I cried. He'd say this is how guys are, and its disgusting and difficult to accept.

Why are they like this?

hello my dear, thank you for sharing this, i hope it helped you to get it off your chest! it pains me to hear what men put you through - they do that and dont even think about it again while we struggle with it, often for the rest of our lives. its unbelievable your therapists were this incompetent and gross when they should have been there to help you. but i think most therapists arent feminists in that sense they dont even think about how much being a woman in a male dominated society can fuck up your mental health, especially when you experience firsthand male violence like you did. im glad you cut ties with your family especially your awful father but it cant be easy. please dont give up. its not too late. you are not broken. you can get back in touch with your sexuality, with or without men, just give it time and dont pressure yourself, theres nothing wrong with you at all. do you feel safe where you are now? do you have friends who support you? are you still trying to find a therapist who will actually support you? you are more than welcome to either drop into my dms whenever you want to talk or just vent and rant or stay on anon to do so. i send you a big hug!

#ask #men are pigs

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lesbian-ed · 1 year

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Hi. I don't know if this blog is still active but in case it is I was hoping maybe to hear some thoughts from you, or maybe even your followers, about confidence and comfort towards one's own body. Like how to deal with anxiety. I am lesbian, obviously female, way too old, I've never had sex, or even really dated. I don't approach people romantically because I hate my body and distance myself from all chances for dating. I've been trying to lose weight but I've struggled with obesity practically all my life. I also think I'm much hairier (I mean it's everywhere and I'm not light haired either omg) than what is normal for most women, and I hate both shaving and just letting the hair grow. I have more or less given up on dating because I don't want people to see me naked or get close to me. Sometimes I feel I'm content but sometimes I feel this isn't healthy: it concerns me that my hatred for my body is keeping me from experiencing intimacy, and how long can that go on until it becomes psychologically damaging. Though who am I kidding - the damage's been done. I understand that people of all shapes and sizes etc. date, fall in love and so on, but I have this deep-rooted discomfort about my body that I've felt since I was around twelve. So I was hoping to hear some thoughts or experiences on how one might overcome this kind of persistent disgust, though I understand if this isn't the kind of ask you wanna answer. In any case thank you for reading.

Hi! I'm sorry this ask has been sitting in our inbox for a few months, unfortunately we don't always still have the time or energy to go through the asks anymore. I wanted to answer this, and I know it's so late but here's to hoping you might wander back here someday, and that this may help you, or another woman who feels similary.

I shared this view for a really long time (so much so, I identified as trans for a long time. I never felt "woman enough" because of my body). I struggled with being fat, hairy, "unwomanly".

When I was in school all of my friends got attention from boys and men, and I never peaked anyone's interest. Even though I didn't want to be with boys, I still craved that attention, I thought there was something wrong with me for being someone who no one would ever want. I punished myself with no eating, too much eating, self harm.

For me, what finally clicked was when I was first introduced to radical feminism, and through that I started thinking about the concept of inherent worth. I knew all women had inherent worth for being women, for being alive. I knew I had empathy and care for all women, regardless of thei appearance, and I thought they all deserve respect. That eventually led to the radical realization that if I think all women are worthy, then I must extend this to myself. I am woman, just as any other. And my external appearance doesn't change my self worth.

It really helped to stop seeing what is considered "ugly" as a negative thing, and rather to think of it as neutral, inconseqential, of no value. Instead of looking at all that was "wrong" with me as a bad thing, I took all power from it. I knew that I would never think badly of other women who looked like me, so why would I be the only exception?

Slowly, I was able to take away all the weight I put into my appearance, and became more neutral. Don't get me wrong, I'm not magically healed. There are still days where I'm reminded of all the ways that I don't fit into society's expectations for what a woman should be. I'm reminded of how terrified my mom was and still is that I'd end up staying fat. I'm reminded of aunts and uncles comenting on me losing and gaining weight since I was as young as 6 or 7. I know that being hairy, with dark body hair all over, is not the standard for what's attractive.

But those days have less weight in the grand scheme of things because no longer is my focus in life to be palatable. And I don't mean to come off like I have all the answers, that my way is the only way. I know this is not an easy journey.

But I think in order for you to start seeing yourself as someone who is worthy of desire, of love, of care, first you've got to see yourself as human. The more I look back at how people treated me growing up, at how people still treat me now, the truth is that society doesn't see "ugly" women as people. We are dehumanized, objectified as clutter, things in the way of what is "right".

I'm sure you're a kind and nice person. Look at yourself from the outside in, look at yourself as you'd look at someone else: what would you say to yourself then? Would you really think so badly of you then?

Be patience. I understand we have a lot telling us that we are not good enough, that aging is bad, that we have expiration dates. But as long as you are around, you are human, you are worthy of kindness.

Regarding the romantic aspect of this, I used to share your anxiety, that no one would want to look at me naked, that I would never feel comfortable undressing in front of someone. But then I met my girlfriend, and she made me feel so comfortable with myself that when we finally met and the time came to share intimacy... It just happened so organically, so naturally. It wasn't a performance, it was caring for each other. Not once did she look at me with disgust, not once was she anything but kind. I don't think it's just because she's some saint. I think when you care about someone, attraction comes naturally, and you don't separate body and mind. You just know that is your person, and you want them fully.

So maybe slowly working on allowing others to see you for who you are, not physically, but like.... Your personality. Open up. It doesn't need to be going on dating apps. It's just... surround yourself with women. Be around other women, love them, let them love you.

Things move slow, but self care can be just allowing a friend to tell you you're a good person. Accept compliments, even when your instinct is to tell others that they're wrong. Be kind to yourself. You deserve kindness, there is nothing about the way you look that is inherently wrong.

Posting this here so hopefully we'll hear from others as well, and hopefully you'll catch this one. Take care. Be well. You deserve good things, just because you're human, just because you're there.

#mod a #self image #self esteem #self harm #body image #October 28 2022

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bambiheartz777 · 1 year

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how to accept being below mediocre & average (& not wanting to change. very bad advice)

it’s simply a known fact that most people are average. average in finances, looks, relationships, their jobs, their talents etc. it’s nothing to be ashamed of. everyone who isn’t chronically online is very aware of the fact & to shame them is stupid because you yourself are most likely average too. this doesn’t mean you can’t have good/high-self esteem.

what sucks is being below average. whether it’s due to mental illness, ANY illness for that matter, unfortunate life circumstance, lack of supportive family/friends, the life you were born into - it can have us be in a poorer condition than everyone else & it can be hard to be okay with yourself & even want to improve yourself when you feel like crap & hate the life you are in.

with the rise of social media, people hate themselves as they are comparing themselves to influencers & people on social media. they’re upset that they cannot be like them, have their riches, look like them, have their lifestyle. what needs to be accepted is that you are not meant to be like them & you do not have to be like them!

(& please keep it mind that it’s not all your fault. it is your responsibility to help yourself, heal & accept yourself. but capitalism & the society we live in does affect us & can make our lives harder. self-improvement will not change how society wants us to be (aka being slaves to rich people & their companies & barely spending time with your family & friends) & how it views different people. racism, classism, misogyny, ableism, homophobia & other common forms of discrimination can negatively affect groups of marginalised people. we cannot “self-love” or “self improve” yourself out of discrimination. it doesn’t work like that. it can be hard to accept that people will hate you simply for existing & it can be hard to even function knowing the fact. it’s not right & it is not your responsibility or obligation to “educate” these people, because i assure you, most of the time, they have no remorse & do not wish to change. & most importantly, any feelings you have regarding this are okay).

not everyone will agree with these as they are personal to me but i just wanted to share to see if anyone else would relate (bc i find the annoying, fake positive, ego hating self improvement advice to be sickening).

now on to the steps!

1. accept yourself, your feelings & circumstances as they are.

radical acceptance is the key to everything. i hate to say it but it is very true. accepting yourself in all you are can help you greatly. perhaps you hate yourself. that’s okay. perhaps you hate the emotions you feel & feel ashamed of them. perhaps you don’t want to forgive someone who harmed you. that’s okay. perhaps your family abused you & you feel envy or disdain towards anyone who has a healthy family. that’s also okay. for me personally, i feel very envious of women who have good relationships with their fathers because mine killed himself when i was 11. yes i feel envy a lot of the time. but you know what? it’s not a “bad” thing. it is normal. it simply is. all so called “negative” emotions are completely normal & shouldn’t be shunned. because, at the root of it all, what is the difference between so called “negative” & “positive” emotions anyway outside of the connotations we give them? all emotions are normal bc they are natural to the human body, no matter how mean or evil they are deemed to be.

& i am aware that men are not taught to “show their emotions” (& by emotions they mean sadness but wtv) but that doesn’t mean women are taught to healthily process their emotions either. women are taught to internalise their “negative” feelings. hell, even women being too happy is too much for some people. that is not healthy. women are not some omni-benevolent, angelic beings who just know how to be emotionally intelligent from the day they’re born. surprisingly! they are actual complex people with complex thoughts & emotions!

2. put the blame on others ONLY when necessary

this one may be controversial to some because we are taught that the type of person we are is our own fault. we are a product of our environment & we are influenced by it. we become who we are around. and our behaviours are just reactions to our circumstances. that includes when we are a child. the way we are raised will influence us throughout life whether we address it or not. a lot of problems people experience today (lack of emotional intelligence, uncomfortableness feeling or expressing emotional, uncomfortable with affection & communication) are due to the 1. the way are parents or guardians raise us & 2. the way our environment & society impacts us (how we think, feel, how to go abt certain things, what’s good or bad etc). society & culture will be different depending on where you’re from. but regardless of differences, it is true that your environment growing up affects you immensely.

and what i’m trying to say is, like i said previously, it’s not all your own doing. you may be causing your own misery by being obsessed with social media, harming yourself etc, but not all of it is your fault. if you are uncomfortable with relationships, it may be because you did not have a consistent or healthy relationships with your caregivers as a child. & that is not your fault or nothing to be ashamed of. the circumstances you are born into are not your fault! you cannot change how you were raised, you can only change how you proceed with you life! it’s okay to acknowledge how there are other forces at play that are actively contributing to you detriment that are no fault of your own (like the state of society, discrimination, capitalism)

& one thing these “self-improvement” gurus don’t mention is how society makes it very hard to heal. i am speaking from a very western viewpoint, but here, the price of living js ridiculous, wages are high, most jobs are 9-5 jobs or more, there’s barely any greenery or animals in the city, there is no community…how do you expect people to heal if they are not secure & stable? when millions of people can barely afford basic necessities (food, water, clothes, social clubs etc) how do you expect them to heal at all? there are doctors going to food banks! when you “self-help” people recommend getting a “gym membership” - how are they meant to afford that when they can’t even afford milk? and telling them to “go on a walk” - why would i go on a walk when i am in the city surrounded by grey, soulless architecture? it’s just not realistic. granted, these people may only be promoting this lifestyle to people who can afford it, but for many it’s not feasible to the majority of people. not to mention they may not even have the time or energy to do these things. how are you going to shame people for not “putting in the work” when they are working to survive?

it’s silly & shouldn’t be expected of people. anything you are doing to better yourself is an achievement in this society. it is enough.

3. take responsibility for yourself

self-explanatory. take accountability as much as you can. you can’t take accountability for how society negatively affects you or how your caregivers failed to raise you correctly. that’s their fault. but, unfortunately, it’s your problem. you can only take accountability for what you choose to be not what has happened to you.

basic things will make you feel better if you feel like shit. good sleep schedule, going outside everyday, exercise daily, eating healthy, do things you like, things that bring you joy etc. now, i do none of these things but maybe the rest of you can. perhaps you’ve always wanted to do art but have never started because of fear. none of that now! start with the fundamentals (shapes, value, light, perspective etc) and go on from there. find help if you can too. it’s okay to be a beginner. but you have to begin somewhere.

maybe you want to mentally & emotionally heal from traumas. do that. research how to do so (bc i dunno)

only you can change yourself & choose to help yourself. so do what’s best.

yea that’s all. i’m no professional but this is what is working for me now and i would just like to share!

ok bye bye!

#self help #tumblr #inner child #self improvement #mental health #emotional health #heal #healing #self healing #mental wellness #mental wellbeing #well being #emotional wellbeing #wellbeing

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rustedskyprisms · 5 months

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I wonder if I have borderline personality disorder. I know that’s a very controversial diagnosis and it’s just been turned into a fucking meme by a bunch of people, but I have a lot of symptoms, and it’s absolutely affected my life. The thing that gets me is the fact that so many autistic women get misdiagnosed with that, so it really could just be the results of autism, severe mental illness, and all the other shit I’ve had to deal with causing this.

I’m not self diagnosing or anything, but I’m also not the type of person to just suggest shit like this for no reason. I’m never going to be that “I think I have ADHD, I think I have bipolar disorder, etc” person when there are no actual symptoms for said conditions.

I think it’s very obvious how emotionally unstable I am. It’s so bad that I don’t even interact with people online anymore most of the time. I can’t handle it. I can’t handle anything. I wrote out a very long thing about all of this but sharing it just feels stupid.

I don’t know what to do with myself, I don’t know how I’m going to make it in this world. I’m in so much pain, I hate myself so much, all I want is someone to love me. That’s literally all I want. I want someone to love me and never leave and never make me feel the way everyone else has. Like it’s actually not funny or quirky or interesting at all, any of this. It’s like a drunk person who just cries and cries about how no one loves them. I have such an extreme emptiness. There’s a pain inside of me that I cannot articulate, but it can be almost physically distressing. And as I’ve mentioned, the self-hatred is terrible. I hate how fat I am, I hate that I’m disabled, I hate that I have all this shit wrong with me, I hate that I can’t have “normal” interests, I hate that I feel like I can’t connect to anyone. It’s just so ugly. The only thing I actually enjoy doing is getting fucked up. It doesn’t matter if the experiences can be terrible, if they hurt my body, that’s a genuine love that I have, and my relationship with drugs is so unhealthy. It’s like the idealization shit I do with people is done with that shit as well. I’m not sexually active, but I have very unhealthy views of sex, like I have these fantasies of having like six different men in my life, not because that’s what I actually want, but because I desire the validation. Like I’ve had so many issues with men because I just want one of them to like me, and it’s really pathetic and unhealthy but it doesn’t leave. No amount of feminist theory or any of that can get these feelings out of me.

I just feel like an ugly, worthless child. Nothing positive anyone tells me is enough, I can’t let all the negative go. It’s all I focus on. Whether I actually have this or not, all I know is that I am extremely fucked up. It’s not funny, it’s not interesting, it’s not cool, it sure as hell has not made me “hot”. It’s just painful. I’m always in so much pain. It’s affected my relationships with others, because I don’t have healthy views of other people. I feel bad for everyone I’ve been close to, whether in person or not, because it’s hell. You never know what you’re going to get. I can go from literally spending a bunch of money on someone to not interacting with them at all, and it’s all me. It’s not them. It’s that I do not have healthy perceptions of other people. And I feel so bad for dragging them into this, so I’ve just stopped. I’ve just started to be really shut off from everyone, because I can’t keep doing shit like this. It’s bad for me, it’s-well, I don’t know how it actually affects them, but the whole dynamic is just unhealthy. But it’s not them, it’s me. In my head, it’s them, but rationally, I know it’s not.

This is a major reason my relationship with my sister is so bad. She has a ton of issues too, but the way I view her fluctuates a lot. I love her more than anything, but I’ve also felt extreme hatred for her. She’s hurt me a lot, so that’s relevant, but the way I view her is really weird.

I don’t know, holy shit, like the more I examine myself, the more I look into this, it sounds a lot like me. Not all of it, but a good portion of it. But it might not be that, I might just be very, very, very emotionally unhealthy. But if it is, yay, more shame. Another thing I’m going to hate myself for.

My question is, why the fuck do people think this shit is funny? Or “hot”? Or some aesthetic thing? It’s hell. And I hate this “female manipulator” shit. I really do. Not every severely mentally ill woman is some hot, thin person with a blog and an apparently “edgy” but actually very safe taste in media.

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espresso-depressso · 2 years

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Ok, I need to vent, so here we go:

TRIGGER WARNING: extensive talk about ED's, dysmorphia, fatphobia and self-harm

I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HEARING ABOUT THE SCENE IN THE ANTI-HERO VIDEO CLAIMING THAT IT'S FATPHOBIA!!!

Before anything: I don't want to appear insensitive here, and I'm open to hear another points of view in this topic as long as it is with respect.

Now, let me explain:

As someone who has struggled most of my life with ED, specifically @n0r3xi@, I find that claim EXTREMELY invalidating.

Ever since I turned 14 I've felt insecure about my body, as I'm sure most people have too. In my case, I've always been curvy, I'm latina, it's common. But since I live near the US border I used to buy all my clothes over there and I've always struggled to find something that fits.

I've always had broad hips, so the smallest size of jeans I've ever wore were size 7, if I was lucky, size 5. But mostly I gravitated between size 7 and size 9.

This gave me severe insecurities about my body because I always had to look for L sized clothing, sometimes even XL. But I was in the "normal" weight range, it was my bone structure that made me that size. That's if we're talking jeans.

Blouses and tops were still an issue tho, no matter how much I starved myself I coul never fit into a size S, it was always M or L.

So yeah, I felt fat and I started to starve myself in order to fit in the "skinny clothing" because it was an ABSOLUTE hell trying to find pretty clothes that fit me. It never was the clothing in the junior, I always had to go to the women's section and still found it difficult.

It was worse because all my friends could shop on the junior section, so I thought "hey, if they can find clothes that fit them and I can't, there surely has to be something wrong with me. Right?"

So yeah, @n0r3xi@ was the way to go, and thus began a year where I stopped eating all together, except for a cup of Mac & Cheese a day, and I still felt guilty about it.

BUT IT WORKED!!! I could finally fit in a size 5 and shop in the junior section. So I was on the right path, size 3 HERE WE GO!!!

All that time I looked in the mirror and I only saw the parts of me that still weren't skinny enough, it didn't help that my boyfriend at the time left me for one of my "skinny" friends. So I started to c*t myself in order to punish me for eating.

The Mac & Cheese became a once or twice a week meal, the rest was water and sleep. If that was what it took, then I was willing to be "healthy" to stop being fat. No pain, no gain right?

Mind you, my "skinny" friend who my boyfriend left me for? She rejected him, and in a heart to heart I had with her she confessed that she was anorexic too, she had to go to a clinic and was trying to regain her weight. And she noticed I was going down the same path and wanted me to stop, for my sake.

At first I told her she didn't understand. Yes, even after she told me about her own battle. So I ignored her and kept starving myself.

Do you want to know what made me stop? I gave up. Because no matter how much I starved myself I couldn't go past size 5. And what was the point of all my efforts if I still hated myself when I saw my reflection in the mirror? If I was still going to hate myself, at least I should start eating the food that I liked again. Even if that meant being "fat". Mind you, I still hurt myself to punish me for who I was.

Just so you can picture a little better how twisted my mind was, and honestly still kind of is, when I first stoped eating I weighed 50 kilos (about 110 pounds for my American friends), and when I started eating again I must've been around 40 kilos (about 88 pounds). And yes, according to my twisted view of myself, I was condemned to being "fat".

In here I just want to clarify the part that triggers me about the claim of the Anti-hero MV being fatphobic: throughout all of this I never thought of another girl as "fat". They were all gorgeous girls and women who had a body I was cursed to never have. Even if they were around or over the weight I had when I first started my so-called "diet". They were gorgeous and pretty and yes, I envied them. Even the plus-sized ones, because they could look pretty af and rock all the outfits that I couldn't. What I really want to point out here is that that twisted view only applied to me.

I was the fat one.

I was the ugly one.

I WAS THE PROBLEM.

Not them.

The struggle hasn't stopped. Throughout my early adulthood years I kept weighting between 55 and 60 kilos (121-132 pounds). BUT I STILL THOUGHT OF MYSELF AS FAT. If I wasn't starving myself at least a little and doing daily excersize, I felt ugly. What changed was that I finally had friends and later a partner who knew about my struggle and that tried to support me anyway they could, so I stopped the self-harm.

It was with that support system that knowing Taylor Swift, someone who I always considered pretty, had a similar experience made me feel I wasn't alone. Yeah my friends, family and partner were there for me, but they couldn't understand, not really.

So when I saw that part of the Anti-hero MV I cried, AND I CRIED HARD. Not because I felt she was saying that I was fat, but because it portrayed SO, SO WELL the battle I had been waging against myself for a little over 10 years now. A battle that I see no end in sight.

It's weighing yourself, then looking in the mirror and saying to your reflection: see? You're still fat, your thighs are to big, your butt is a problem and that tummy? Yikes! You need to drop more weight or you'll never be pretty. It's you against yourself.

Right now I weight 80 kilos (176 pounds), and I wish I believed everyone who told me that I wasn't ugly. Because now I sure as hell feel hideous. And the voice? It's a hell of a lot louder.

Now I don't hate myself when I look in the mirror, I loathe the creature that's looking back at me.

But I'll say it again:

IT'S ME AGAINST MYSELF.

I understand where the claim that the MV is fatphobic, I really do. But I also want people to know that it really helped me see that the only way to end my war it's to learn to love myself as my friends, family and partner do. I knew that already, but now I finally, truly understand it.

I mean, if they love me, it must mean I'm worth loving. Right?

#taylor swift #anti hero #anti hero music video #tw: mental health #tw: fatphobia #tw: self negativity #tw: self-harm

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brewjust · 2 years

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Pantyhose tumblr

#Pantyhose tumblr free

Now I noticed that the perfect high cut has to cinch in at or very near the waist to truly do the job. It's not a flattering look and I absolutely despise it. It elongates and squares out the torso, narrows out the hips, shrinks the butt and shortens the legs. To further that point, the mid hip swimsuit/underware/teddie is the worst offender in terms of being a detriment to a woman's figure. At the same time if you put that same woman in a regular mid hip swimsuit or regular bikini, all those attributes wouldn't be accentuated and she wouldn't look quite as attractive. They give the appearance of a smaller waist, bigger hips, a bigger butt and longer legs. That's because high cuts accentuate the female figure. That the one in the high cut oozes more sexuality. Men and women don't realize this, but all things being equal in appearance within a group of women, we will undoubtedly think that the one in the high cut is the most attractive. I don't care about race, ethnicity or body type - if there is any sign of a high cut being worn I'm posting it.

#Pantyhose tumblr free

They spend all their free time on reddit or twitter telling their followers how evil men are and how they are all rapists and misogynists, yet they join Tinder (of all places…) and try to meet men.I love women in high cut: thongs, leotards, bodysuits, bikinis, swimsuits, teddies, panties, tan lines, etc. Their first mistake was trying to date men who they claim to hate, their second mistake was joining tinder. Tinder is a meat market, and they are looking for a respectable man on that app… lol… Yea sure there are some, but most on Tinder are not. I just don’t understand these women at all. What they do and what they say are complete opposite and hypocritical. Discover more posts about sheer pantyhose, open toe heels, nylon pantyhose, pantyhose and heels, evening fashion, collant, and tan pantyhose. Why do feminazi’s date men if they hate men?Īnd how are you going to develop a relationship that’s healthy that’s entire premise is based off of how much you hate men, men will easily pick up on your negativity and toxicity towards the entire gender of men and leave. See a recent post on Tumblr from sheersuntanhunter about tan pantyhose. Ive been depressed for a while so that takes effect on everything else in my life. My bf isnt that great he puts me down and tries to ruin my self esteem. not only that but he talked about me to her and made her feel like she is better and like he wants to be with her. He cheated with someone he dealt with in the past. I said neither are true I’m just not ready. I was devastated, but she acted like it didnt matter. I realize now as an adult that she didn’t get what she wanted so she left. I wanted it at the time but I was still a child. I look back on it now and get grossed out, like I would kill someone who did any of this to my kids. This online friend of mine did a psychic reading on me. Go on to discover millions of awesome videos and pictures in thousands of other categories. He is a nice guy and I want to keep being friends but feel weird now.Īnd it kind of was like we delved into a lot of deep stuff I wasn’t expecting him to know, followed by ‘what did you get for lunch. View 262 pictures and enjoy PantyhoseInPublic with the endless random gallery on. Is there a principle on display? Is there a matter of wisdom to be considered? Is there an idea I had never considered or truly taken to heart before? Difficult verses that pretty much always have a corresponding verse that says the same thing in a simpler way. I wanted more attention from people, due to lack of many friends, and I resorted to being annoying.ĭo couples that keep their relationship private on Facebook love eachother more?Īnd not private as in no word of the other, but only a few posts a year about it? I would get hyper spontaneously, when I was normally calm and introverted. Which in turn would make people around me uneasy. Or I would fake laugh for a long period of time until people looked at me weird, which made me laugh for real, and continue a cycle of laughing at their confused reactions. Discover more posts about legs in pantyhose, gusset, tan pantyhose, nylon pantyhose, sheer pantyhose, pantyhoselegs, and collant. This would cause them to jump once they saw I was here.īecause I was really quiet most of the time, I would also sneak up on my classmates and wait for them to notice me. See a recent post on Tumblr from pantyhsblog about collant. The worst thing I think I did, was learn about a classmate’s (Katherine) crush, and drop hints to Zach (her crush) that she likes him, right in front of her.Īnd I found it funny to scare people like that. Romana:And I recently got together with this girl.(31 December 2017)Ĭharline:Is there a possibility i can be pregnant?(31 We video chat every night for at least five hours.(31 December 2017) It’s been a while since I posted so I figured I would let you all know I am still around and having fun_

#Pantyhose tumblr

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mayhiems · 2 years

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I made two long posts about Your Throne...

BUT I AM STILL FUCKIN PISSED THAT SO MANY OF Y'ALL ARE DODGING THE FUCKIN POINT SAM IS LITERALLY SLAPPING US WITH.

Fukin hell. This is why I can't be in discussion forums or groups for Your Throne or any manwha in general. I'll end up taking hours writing paragraphs to help explain things and people would still insist on their views heavily influenced by internalized misogyny and religion. I'm only human I get tired, and I am so so so close to just completely giving up so yeah. I shouldn't be doing this even on the net but...

For the first time I saw an interesting webtoon/manwha that portrays two completely different women realistically, shows a healthy example of female friendship, normalizes women being sexually active and being comfortable with their sexuality, having main leads that actually target the real villain and not waste time pitting the female protagonists against each other.

It also isn't holding back with the villain, it shows the villain stooping as low as he probably should, unlike majority of the media everywhere that's too chicken and thinks murder is the peak of villainy.

Your Throne is refreshing in the sense that it's pretty straightforward.

Ep.1 then ep.2 and we already see Eros the Crown Prince is a piece of shit.

Not a single chapter in the entirety of the webtoon was Eros portrayed as a good guy. SO I DON'T FUCKIN GET HOW Y'ALL CAN OVERLOOK JUST HOW TERRIBLE HE IS.

Oh wait. No. I get it. I know why so many people can still think Eros has some good parts, but y'all would get mad if I said it directly. But come on. Think about it. Really really think about it.

Y'all hate on Medea or Psyche when they do something seemingly problematic but turn a blind eye to the most obvious demonstrations of toxicity in Eros and Helio.

And when some of y'all try to defend one of the women, you'll do it by bringing down the other, and not hmmm let's see, actually discussing the root of the problem?

Let's not be like that.

Think about it. Why is it that the first thing many of us thought when we saw this:

"Oh my god, Psyche slept with Eros, she isn't pure anymore!" or "WTF. Medea fucked Eros while she was in Psyche's body, she committed double rape!"

Why THE FUCK did I not see one, just a single fucking person raise:

"Mfker. Eros slept with Psyche when he had always been plotting her TORTURE and assassination."

OR at least,

"Did Psyche/Medea want this? She doesn't look happy. I hope Eros didn't scare her into having sex."

LIKE EROS HAS BEEN PORTRAYED TO THREATEN PSYCHE WITH HER FREEDOM EVERY TIME SHE TRIED TO DISAGREE WITH HIM FROM THE FIRST FUCKING CHAPTER!

Why is the first course of action always female blaming? Huh?

SAM placed that in the story because it would make us uncomfortable. But did y'all stop to think why it made us uncomfortable?

Why is it that y'all were quick to go "Oh Medea was a villainess back then, this is within character."

But nobody ever said

"Oh sht. Eros is an evil bastard that chains and jails their lover just cuz she wanted to communicate her refusal to meet with an ex-friend. He forced Psyche didn't he?"

With that said, why didn't most of y'all remember that Medea tried to reach out to Psyche during the Crown Princess competition winner announcement?

Y'all are so quick to remember the bad sht a female character does but overlook the good acts that were literally placed there so we would see the difference between the anti-hero protagonist and the fukin villain.

And they're so fukin obvious that if they were anymore obvious SAM would have to be spoonfeeding it to us.

Don't think that Your Throne is like most of the mainstream manwhas out there.

The author is trying to get us to open our eyes to the misogyny and injustice so clearly present in real life. And she's doing it in a not so in-your-face manner so that our prides and egos won't get in the way of our understanding.

My only issue with Your Throne is that Psydea won't be explicitly endgame. That's it.

And no. It's not cuz of the gay agenda. Not necessarily. The message it would send if they were endgame has so many fukin implications, for political, social, emotional, and psychological aspects.

I wish more people would understand.

Anyways, I am never going on Your Throne forums again. They highkey make me wanna off myself.

Also people keep going:

If it was you in Psyche's place and your friend fucked your lover, how would you feel?

Bch if my friend, hell, even if it was a fukin stranger in my body...if they were getting manipulated by my dangerous and powerful lover, and saying yes was the best way to avoid further manipulation and suffering, I would scream Go! Go, go, go!

I would never want someone to suffer more than they already are.

#medea solon #psydea #psyche callista #your throne #i want to be you just for a day #medyche #Ep.122 spoilers

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livingalifeofasimp · 3 years

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☘️𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖙

𝕴𝖓

🎀𝕴𝖘𝖊𝖐𝖆𝖎 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖆🎀

You got teleported into a Novel called Love or Hate, where a villianess of an influencing family gets jealous of people around Crown Prince and tries to kill everyone especially his beloved and meets unfortunate death.

𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕒𝕕 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

Click on the link for more information, If the link doesn't work then please be kind enough to inform me, Thank you💮💮💮

🖤 𝓩𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* On getting into the novel as Villianess and not being able to go back to your world you decided to stop going down the path of original Novel Plot but make your own and live a life in luxury away from all the characters. Your first step was to break the engagement with Crown Prince, who was surprised when he heard you say that to him, you were just so in love with him and then after being unconscious for almost a week you decided to break off the engagement.

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* Zhongli could not understand why you would do such thing and you knew he will fall in love with the Heroine when she appears, you told your father to annual it, since you understood that the affection holds no value in Crown Prince's eyes, but Zhongli wasn't able to digest this piece of information, when he tries to approach you, you run away, avoid him at any cost, he realizes how important you are to him, so he rejects your request to annual the engagement even after you nearly begged him and promises you that he will cherish you now on, leaving you thinking what went wrong.

*:･ﾟ♛ ﾟ･:* You sat with pen and paper tried to sort everything out, although Crown Prince was trying to win your favor back by sending you gifts, letters and asks for your audience only to get ghosted by you, getting involved with him will give you nothing but a miserable fate, no matter how handsome the Characters are you refused to acknowledge them any further. Now it felt like Zhongli clingys to you more than anything.

💛𝓐𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

ﾟ･:*༻*:･ﾟWhen your carriage stopped infront of your state you saw Aether was there waiting for you, he told you that he heard you were trying to annual the engagement, for a minute you forgot how fast news spread in this era, Aether had a happy glow on his face, he told you that you deserve better. At some point you knew that Aether grows distant from Villianess in Novel Plot but the case here was totally different now he invites you or comes to you uninvited.

ﾟ･:*༻*:･ﾟYou don't stop him tho, he became your bestfriend, he taught you horse riding, sword fighting and helped you in all those things you were interested in. Thanks to Aether your bad dancing got better, you always wondered how he never go tired dancing with you, when you step on his foot unintentionally during practices. Physical touches increases slightly, you don't doubt it since it's normal for friends to hug a second more right?

❤️𝓓𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓬

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Since there was nothing better to do, you started to put your hands on family business and was sent to pay visit to the business partner. To your surprise when you saw Diluc, he looked just like the Novel described him to be, stern, stoic and cold. His presence was intimidating but you had to win this opportunity so you confidently placed your views even when your legs were shaking under the gown you were wearing, you put your hands together and pursued him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Diluc seemed so lonely, he had no one to worry about him, just him and his thoughts. So you decided to greet him with smile and ask about if he ate his meals properly because he skipped them for one or two days due to his loads of work, which was bad for his health, if he needed to fight with Crown Prince for Heroine then he should be healthy, so you took care of him while you were staying in his Mansion.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ At first he was wary of you but he eventually warmed up and when Diluc laughed in one of your jokes, you felt grateful to witness that because no one saw him smiling other than Heroine, he looked really beautiful. He said you were way too different than what the rumours described you to be, you were perfect.

💚𝓧𝓲𝓪𝓸

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥ Bandits attached your Carriage, it was difficult to defeat them but with your escort and Aether's sword fighting training it became quite easy, even though you are not much of a sword fighter than Aether but you could protect yourself for once. When Crown Prince heard you were attacked he immediately assigned you his Loyal Knight who later becomes Imperial Knight respected by citizens, to which you obviously rejected but as persistent as he is you were made to accept the Knight for the time being since all the knights in your family are either afraid of you or not want to serve you and you had no fetish with working with someone who is not willing to be with you.

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥Xiao was very quite and skilled Knight so he was very attentive to your needs, and once caughted you, when you tripped on your gown while climbing staircase, due to which he got on his one knees and asked for your forgiveness. It left you speechless why would he do such thing? Ask for punishment instead of a thanks for saving your bones, you couldn't help but ask him, Xiao's answer made you clutch your fingers, he thought you, a noble lady would get disgusted by his touch since he is lowly born.

✥ ۪۪۫۫◃ ✤◃ ۪۪۫۫✥ You asked him to stand, Xiao is your favorite character who suffered so much and was never able to voice his love for Heroine, you holded his hands in yours, ignoring his body flinching and told him how he should not look down on himself, he is equal, everyone is equal since you all are humans and that you cherish him, he put his life to protect you. You said him all those things you wanted to when you read the Novel, not everything really but it left him blushing while you laughed walking ahead of him what a tsundere.

💙𝓚𝓪𝓮𝔂𝓪

☽༓✮･*˚ A handsome Mage Master kept on disturbing you, the smug looking guy who you meet in Local bars when you were out exploring about the Novel world, he helped you with your case to find out the solution to obtain the land for the project with Duke while giving you many riddles that exhausted you but seeing a worried Xiao was worth it when he says I don't care after nagging you for hours.

☽༓✮･*˚ You doubted if this guy was the one of the Male Leads who was owner of Mage tower because he was exceptional handsome, for a side Character to be so good looking is quite rare, but he debuted after the Grand ball so it couldn't be him, you debated. In Original Novel Plot they never described how he looked, but it was for sure he was popular among ladies. The guy introduced himself as Kaeya, who sometimes requests your presence in Mage tower, only VIP guest were allowed and when you asked him how he managed to get the permission he says it is one of his ways, suspicious enough.

☽༓✮･*˚ You eventually spend more time with him than required which sometimes anger Aether since your time with him reduced, of course you haven't told anything about him to anyone. To save himself, he once introduced you to the group of women flirting with him as his girlfriend. Kaeya sends his familiar in butterfly form for the most stupidest message through your window to which you react differently depending on your mood.

"How are you my Lady?"

"Am I allowed to miss you?"

"When will you visit me?"

"Have you been using me all this time?, I am heart broken T_T Heal me!"

🧡𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* Strong hand holded you securely, as you danced with him, who was wearing black laced mask in Masquerade ball organized by King for a yearly festival which you were forced you to attend by your Father and Crown Prince. One of the guys asked for you to dance with him, as per tradition one cannot reject the another requesting party, otherwise you would have been eating the food served for guests, imperial food is on another level, Zhongli sometimes tries to lure you to spend time with him by making such excuses.

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* The stranger pulled you even more closer saying that you are looking much more prettier than before, your first meeting but you did not recognized him or so you thought, and he told you that you are known as the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom, neighboring Kingdoms takes interest in you. You do remember the guy who helped you in fighting with Bandits both of them have the same hair color and playfulness in their voice.

❀⑅*⋆༶⋆❀⑅* When you asked him about it, if he was the guy from before to which he replied maybe, leaving you in the middle of the dance and bended in the crowd, Mysterious as Childe you thought, whoever he was, you hoped for him to not bring more problems than you already have. A groaning voice of Crown Prince from behind made you turn around questioning you why you danced with other guys than your fiance, you never thought a composed man as Zhongli would whine to you for such a small thing.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere #tumblr #tumblrfeed #yandere story #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact aether #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere aether x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere kaeya x reader

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rf-times · 2 years

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Hey I was wondering if I can get your insight on a repetitive phenomena I keep encountering , one that I think is important for radfems to think about when talking about the male gaze / beauty standards: I keep seeing woman ( on fds for example) understand that makeup/shaving legs/high heels etc is for the male gaze and that men will hate you whether you fit into the the hyper-sexualized or modest category. Basically a lot of woman acknowledge that misogynistic men will hate you no matter what and so with with this line of reasoning they still choose to perform femininity ( because men will hate you anyways). This is so frustrating to watch because it’s like they view femininity as a random aesthetic that men can’t seem to make up their minds about and see gnc woman ( a woman being in her natural state) as just an opposite head of a coin. It’s like they forget that femininity is beauty standard that isn’t neutral at all since requires lots of time and effort which in the process cause self esteem/ mental health problems when you pursue them. You can’t compare that to a woman embracing to be in her natural state ( neutral and there better for overall health). These woman they think that when radfems oppose femininity it’s us somehow still conforming to the male gaze because “you’re still caring what men think of you and dictating how you dress , why should I dress a certain way just to curve male aggression when it’s men that are the problem” which yes it’s true that male violence will never be a women’s fault but it feels like they misuse this line of reasoning to think that femininity is unfairly criticized when it’s not. We don’t oppose femininity just to spite men but because we’ve seen how chasing beauty causes all sorts of self esteem and body image problems ( because a womans natural, unmodified self in unacceptable) and that’s what they don’t get. And I hope I’m articulating this problem in reasoning I’m seeing since I really think radfems should rethink just saying “ men want you to do it anyways” when telling libfems that’s their decision to perform femininity is a choice. I just really think radfems should focus on bringing up the topic on how femininity is inherently harmful itself and was never anything neutral but something actively designed to keep woman busy and broken mentally as the main reason we oppose it. Even if femininity was 100% self imposed by woman into themselves it be the source of problems since it’s unnatural.

All of this 100%, femininity is so insidious, none of it is random and I really have no patience for the argument that "Well it's all just about how much headspace men are taking up in your head whether you're embracing femininity or rejecting it!" . As women under patriarchy, our very existence is seen as actively provocative, marked out. All of femininity and rituals surrounding it is designed to conform to this idea: we designate ourselves as existing to be looked at, that we exist to be sexually attractive and pleasing, by engaging in femininity we are implicitly agreeing that we exist to be observed, "pretty is the tax we pay to exist", that we are inherently provocative, etc.

Patriarchy is a pay to lose game for women so even if you conform to misogynistic ideas, the fact you're a woman is enough of a crime. As you said, it doesn't mean femininity is neutral. Objectifying yourself and being objectified is so harmful and literally destroys a healthy self view and ability to understand your own physical needs and establish boundaries. And I agree, I think radfems don't always present the best arguments for their points.

I quit Ovarit once I saw a thread about femininity where dozens of different women were arguing "Men don't oppress us because we wear makeup so it's not worth talking about femininity being relevant to feminism" like the idea that femininity is natural and normal seems so fucking pervasive everywhere.

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djarinbarnes · 4 years

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🕷️ october 4th - breeding kink - b.barnes 🕷️

Author: dina @softboibarnes

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: non-con, breeding kink, stalking, yandere elements, mentions of porn, kinda slow burn.

A/N: okay i got a bit carried away with this one. this one is written from Bucky’s point of view. this is a dark fic. 18+ proceed with caution. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

masterlist

If there was one thing that turned Bucky on, it was pregnant women. He didn’t know what it is specifically, but there was something about the way their faces glowed, and their stomach swelled.

It had always been like that. Not that he was always turned on by pregnant women, but he had admired them for longer than he could remember. He remembered how his mother’s stomach swelled with his little sister, how it was hard, yet soft to his touch. How her feet kicked against his hand as he laid it on his mother’s stomach during the last trimester.

How the pregnant women at the supermarket cradled their stomachs as they admired the next thing they would add to their baskets. The way some of them adorably waddled like penguins during the last month of pregnancy, and the way you could still tell the woman had just had a child, even a few months after.

When he discovered pornography at the age of 13, he felt like he’d hit a goldmine. He could watch the videos for hours, admiring every little detail about the pregnant women getting fucked in so many ways for hours. What turned him on the most, though, was how they would come so quickly, so hard. He knew that the women had to be more than sensitive when pregnant.

Whereas those thin, playful girls who took huge cocks in their every hole could last for hours with no end, the pregnant women were easily pushed over the edge, in what appeared to be mind-blowing orgasms. Bucky didn’t understand why the guys in his year thought those skinny whores was the best of the best.

He never talked about what kind of porn he watched after Brock bullied him in the 9th grade, after he accidentally slipped out that he had seen the most sensual porn with a pregnant woman. To Brock, porn was anything but sensual.

He told Bucky how he liked to watch women who were tied up, gagging on whatever, bring punished in whatever way the master deemed appropriate. Apparently, it was amusing to watch women get big unidentified objects into whatever hole was available. It made Bucky shudder.

He did find it interesting how a female body could go through such a wild transformation though and turn back to normal. It made his interests peak and his cock hard. As he got older, it turned into an obsession for him.

He knew he wanted to get a girl pregnant. Watch her swell with his seed, carry his baby for nine months. He knew he wanted nothing more in the world than to make use of the sensitiveness that followed with the hormones, the breasts full of milk and the soft stomach straining against his hands.

God how he longed to reach out and caress a popped belly button, to feel a child kick against his stomach as he pounded into the woman carrying it. He knew he would do anything to make it a reality.

The first time he’d had sex with a girl, she’d begged him to wear a condom. He’d hesitantly agreed. He hated every second of it; the uncomfortable feeling of latex against the sensitive head of his cock, the tight ring choking his cock at the base.

He knew he had to restrain himself though. He knew the good girls these days were more than careful with their partners, and he just had to take his time to charm them warm. He knew that one of them, someday, would give into him and let him fill her womb with his seed. It just never happened like he wanted it to.

When he first saw you at the supermarket, he knew he had to have you. It had been way too long since he’d had anyone. He felt his heart as well as his cock swell as soon as you had let out a delightful little laugh, your hand coming up to brush your hair over your shoulder.

He walked just a little closer to you, leaning against one of the shelves stuffed with different kinds of chips. You were crouched down in front of a small child, holding out a pack of popcorn you had retrieved from one of the higher shelves, giving the little one a soft smile along with a “here you go, sweetheart.”

Bucky watched as the kid took off running, back to their mother. He felt his heart swell in his chest as you turn to face him, the soft smile still plastered on your face. He knew in that exact moment, that you felt the same way about kids that he did. And he knew, in that exact moment, that you would be the one to carry his children, no matter the cost.

You jumped slightly when you noticed Bucky smiling at you from a few feet away, not having noticed him before. You approached him, a smile coming back on your lips before you walked right past him, to where the employees had their back room. He felt his heart fall in his chest, before making a quick decision, turning on his heel and letting out a small “excuse me?”

You turned back to him, your hand on the swing door, ready to walk through. “yes? How may I help you?” your smile had already embedded itself into his brain. He was so fucked.

“I was wondering where you kept the wines? And if you had any good ones?” he stuttered out a makeshift lie, watching as you pursed your lips, thinking over his question. You smiled before walking back towards the shelves, motioning for him to follow you. You both stopped before the shelves filled with white, rosé and red, looking over the countless possibilities.

“Anything you can recommend?” He cleared his throat, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. He felt his heart pick up the pace as you bit your lips, turning towards him with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I don’t drink. I need to be healthy and… Sorry, that’s none of your business…” you blushed before looking down at your feet, your cheeks reddening slightly.

“No, it probably isn’t… Well, then I guess I wouldn’t have much success in asking you out for a glass of wine?” Bucky smiled down at you, watching as your head shot up, your eyes wide and doe-like. He felt his heart flutter in his chest, noticing how you had the smallest of rips in your bottom lip. He knew you had to bite them a lot.

“Oh, I… No, I guess not.” You let out a small laugh, your arm coming up to grab your opposite elbow, shielding yourself. He felt the disappointment bubble just under the surface before you spoke again. He muttered out a quiet thank you for your time, before turning on his heel to leave. “But… I do like tea. And pastries?”

He turned back to you with a smile playing on his lips before nodding. “Alright. When are you off?” he looked at his watch. 3:49.

“At four. Unless Tony asks me to work overtime, again.” You sighed, before hoisting your phone out of your pocket, handing it to Bucky. “You can… add your number. Then I can reach out to you when I’m off.” You smiled softly as Bucky grabbed your phone, clicking on the home button before it opened, without a passcode. Too damn easy.

“Alright. I’m Bucky, by the way.” He quickly typed his number into your phone before sending himself a text, so he had yours. You told him your name as he handed your phone back to you. “If you want, I can wait out front until you’re off? Then we can go to this place I know. They have some really good pastries.”

“Oh. Yeah! That sounds alright.” You giggled and blushed at his question. “It’s a date.” He watched as you turned around to walk back where you came from, turning once, twice, three times to look at him still standing there in the aisle, a smile playing on his lips as a plan formed inside his head.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but you mentioned you didn’t drink?” Bucky asked as he watched you swirl your spoon around your cup of earl grey, one teaspoon of sugar now blending in. He admired the soft tint of your cheek that appeared when he asked, letting him know it was something very personal to you.

“It’s just… I really want to be healthy, you know? For when I’m one day am going to bear children. I don’t want to ruin my body with unnecessary consumption of alcoholic beverages. So I’ve never had a drink in my life.” You softly grazed the spoon over the rim of your cup, letting the tea run off before you put it down.

“That’s smart. I admire you for that.” Bucky smiled as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. He watched as your eyes lit up in admiration, along with a rounding of your cheeks as you smiled. God, you were literally perfection. “How many do you want?”

“Two or three. I don’t want my child to be an only child, because I know how lonely it can get.” You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek. “How about you?”

“I guess I’ll know how many I want when my hands are full, and I can’t take anymore.” Bucky let out a heartful laugh, getting a small giggle from you in the process. “I want a big family. I have a lot of love to give.” He looked you directly in the eyes as he said the last sentence and noticed how you suddenly squirmed in your seat.

You nodded before blushing, maintaining eye contact as you licked your lips. “Just need to find the right partner.” Bucky felt his cock twitch in his pants as you spoke, countless images running through his head at that point. You sucked in a breath before biting your lower lip. Bucky expected a you wanna get out of here? But instead he got a “I better get home…”

He felt his heart drop in his chest, feeling both the sadness and anger overcoming him. He smiled though, rising from his seat as you did from yours. You offered him your hand and he shook it, a courteous nod from him. “It was a pleasure, y/n. Maybe I’ll see more of you soon?”

You smiled with a small nod before collecting your things, leaving the small café. Bucky threw a few dollars on the table, following you out of the café, but keeping his distance. This was where his plan would go into motion. He pushed his hand into his deep coat pocket, feeling both pairs of wrapped up handcuffs laying securely in the fabric.

He followed you as you turned corners, watching as you smiled at strangers, handing over a few cents to a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. You are really something else, he thought. He hid behind a set of stairs as you walked up to an old apartment complex, pushing your way through the front door and disappearing into the building.

Bucky walked up the stairs to your complex warily, looking at the different buzzers and doorbells before squinting his eyes. He sighed when he found only letters of first names and full last names. He scurried down the stairs, making his way into the alley on the side.

He found the fire escape quickly and hoisted himself up, hoping he was on the right side of the building. He looked through the blinds of the first three floors, coming up with nothing. He let out a small laugh when he ended up in front of the fourth-floor window, slightly ajar, hearing a soft humming under the sound of a shower running.

He lifted the window open wider, sliding into the warmth of your apartment before sliding it closed. He looked around your personal space, kicking off his shoes before making his way to your bed. He lifted a pair of your stockings off the railing before bringing the garment to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent of you.

He looked over his shoulder to where the bathroom door was barely open before walking up to the headboard. He unraveled the handcuffs from the silencing fabric, clasping the metal around the metal frame of your bed. He smiled before making his way closer to the bathroom door. He halted in his steps as he heard the shower turning off, the rings of your shower curtain being pulled back.

Your soft humming continued as he imagined you drying off your hair, drying your dreamy body. He shrugged off his coat and hung it over one of your chairs. He walked over silently to the big, brown armchair in the corner of your apartment before sitting down, crossing his legs.

He waited with anticipation for a few seconds until the bathroom door swung open, revealing your towel-clad body. You let out a yelp when you noticed him seated in your armchair, a smug smile adorning his face. You clutched the towel to your body, the fear blossoming in your stomach.

“Bucky? What on earth are you doing in here? How did you even get in here?!” you shuffled backwards as he rose from his seat, walking towards you with silent steps. You scrambled backwards to your wall, Bucky quickly pressing against you, trapping you against the wall.

“I want to clarify a few things, doll…” His hand came up to grasp your throat while his other hand fumbled with where your towel was tied around your breasts. The towel fell in a pool around your feet and you shut your eyes, feeling both exposed and humiliated. Your arms hang limply down your side. You were too shocked to fight him.

“First off… God damn baby…” Bucky leaned in and breathed in your ear, making you whimper as he tightened his hold on your throat. He leaned back slightly, looking up and down your body with hungry eyes. He admired the way your nipples hardened into tight buds from the slightly cool air and how the goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Second…” The fingers on the hand that wasn’t clutching your throat found its way in between your legs, swiping through your folds before pushing in slowly, one knuckle, then deeper, until his pointer finger was buried within your tight heat. He watched as you turned your head away from him, tears wetting your eyes.

He tightened the hold on your throat. “Eyes on me.” He growled out, inserting another finger into you. You whimpered out as his fingertips played with your cervix, your eyes reluctantly looking back into his blackened eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck you. You want that, hmm?” He felt how you slicked up on his digits. “Gonna fill you with my cum. Watch how you swell with my seed.” Bucky moaned as he imagined you with a baby bump. His baby. “We want the same thing, doll.”

A whimpered no left your lips, and Bucky saw red. He tightened his hold on your throat as he yanked you forward, forcefully throwing you on the bed. He let go of your throat shortly, clasping both your wrists within the handcuffs. You whimpered as you strained against the handcuffs, fear overtaking your body even more.

Bucky watched you as he undressed himself, watched as you squirmed on your bed, the handcuffs clinking against the metal of your headboard. When he stood naked in front of you, his cock full of desire and his balls full of cum, you started to panic. He could tell from the way you started thrashing about.

He looked around your apartment as you started screaming. He grabbed the stockings he had previously inhaled the scent of; pushing the garment into your open mouth, muffling your screams. Your legs kicked about, hitting him in his stomach.

“Shouldn’t have done that, baby doll.” His strong hands gripped behind your knees harshly, pushing your knees to your shoulders. The tears streamed down your cheeks so prettily, he noticed as he sat between your legs on his knees.

He looked down at your cunt, his cock twitching painfully. He needed you desperately. Just like you needed him to fill you with his cum, needed him to bury a child deep within you. He kept his hands locked behind your knees in a painful, tight grip as he spit on your pussy, making sure everything wasn’t too dry for him.

He shifted on his knees, leaning over your body, looking up at your face, hearing your whimpers through the stocking. “You want me to fuck you, huh?” You whimpered, mumbled, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes. “You want me to fuck you hard?” He smirked, hearing your whimpers again. “You want me to knock you up?”

He angled his hips slightly, thrusting forward, his cock sliding through your wet folds. His hands wrapped around your knees, spreading your legs and pulling your legs on each of his shoulders, entering you in one swift thrust.

He watched as you shut your eyes tightly, tears streaming steadily down your cheeks. It was so beautiful. He groaned as he slammed his hips against yours, burying himself to the hilt. You strained against the handcuffs, twisting your body violently. Bucky’s grip tightened on you, his hips retracting before slamming into you again, hitting your cervix.

You screamed, throat strained, body tired. “We could’ve done this the sensual way,” he told you through gritted teeth, his hips slamming against your ass in a steady rhythm. “You could’ve gotten pure vanilla,” he groaned out, your walls tightening against his cock. “But instead you decided to act like a brat!” His hand briefly left your knee to slap your breast.

“Gonna have to show you how to behave.” He pushed your knees to your chest again, folding you in half, leaning over you. He kissed your wet cheeks despite your attempt to turn away from him. His hips ground against you, his cock burying itself deeply inside of you. “Gonna fuck you full of my babies.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, orgasm overcoming you as your body started shaking violently. You breathed out harshly, your face red but so beautiful. Bucky felt his balls tighten uncomfortably. He pushed into you faster, harder, before he finally let out a yelp as his hot cum spurted into you, his scrotum convulsing more violently than he’d ever felt before.

He caressed your cheek as you kept crying, sobs racking through your tired, worn out body. Bucky slipped from you, pulling back, helping your legs laying comfortably against your bed. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, his hand stroking over your hair. You nodded, sniffing. He reached down and pulled the stocking from your mouth, watching as you coughed.

“Please Bucky.” You whimpered, looking up at your restrained hands. Bucky knew you would be good for him. He knew he had a good chance of succeeding this time.

When you’d handed over your phone, he’d bugged it. While he waited in his car, he checked your Flo app calendar. It was perfect timing. You were at the peak of your ovulation cycle. He had no time to waste. You just needed a push in the right direction.

Bucky hoped this was it.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky x y/n #kinktober #bucky barnes x reader

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fourfucksake · 4 years

Text

fight night

pairing: andy barber x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, rough smut/sex, dominant male, submissive woman + spoilers for DJ

word count: 1.9k

p.s if you haven’t already watch “Defending Jacob”

Once every couple of months you and Andy would argue like crazy. For some reason, the outcome was always the same - he left. His steps were always silent, almost as if he were completely careless to the heated situation. Your eyes would hang on his back as he slowly left the bedroom. It was like déjà vu, the exact same situation took place in this household, between you two already.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Throwing your hands in the air with annoyance written on your face you would follow his footsteps. No answer, absolutely no response. Just when you thought he couldn’t get more infuriating. You could see Andy’s shadow making its way down the stairs, the door shut loudly after he left.

Andy had no reason to act this way, yet he did. Arguments that you two shared were never serious, they were always over stupid things. He wanted to have it his way and so did you. It was complicated. This was a constant thing in your relationship, however bad that sounded. You always let it slide because of his unresolved issues and trauma from the past. You always knew this behaviour patter is not healthy, but you couldn’t help yourself. Falling in love with this stubborn, serious, senior lawyer was never in your schedule – it just happened.

Days passed and there were absolutely no signs of him anywhere. Well, anywhere near you. You just assumed he went to work normally. Andy didn’t have any family so there was no one contacting you about him. He didn’t really have friends either, he was kind of a loner. Escaping was his coping mechanism; you knew he can go without facing you for some time.

You didn’t worry too much, knowing he’s too clever to get himself in any trouble. Whether you liked to admit it or not Andy was one of the smartest individuals you knew. Him being a respected lawyer didn’t help your case since every argument with him was almost like an on-going debate, as long and tedious as the Great Wall of China.

By now, you were kind of used to being at home without him. You did your nightly routine as usual until a major interruption cut you off. A loud knock awakened the house. Your confused stare rose as you reluctantly moved from the king-sized bed placed in the bedroom. A deep sighed left your irritated face when you moved to the door. Only if Andy was here, you thought, as your feet headed towards antechamber. No guests were expected, and you couldn’t think of anyone who would bother you at this ungodly hour.

Looking through the viewfinder you mumbled a half silent “what the fuck” when your eyes recognised the familiar figure. Seeing Andy was something you didn’t expect. You opened the door after all; even the anger built over the days couldn’t make you just leave him there. You knew you are too weak when it comes to him.

Your words had no time to leave your mouth as Andy’s lips pressed onto yours. A soft moan followed as his fingers aggressively grabbed your hips. The kiss didn’t last long, stopped by his focus moving onto your neck. He gasped, breathing hot air against your skin as his mouth left sloppy and moist traces along the column of your neck. A bunch of whimpers left your mouth as your eyes rolled in pleasure. This was good, too good. Your mind had to remind you that you were still, in fact, mad at him.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?!” You yelled, pushing him away. Your chest was moving in a crazy motion, your breathing completely unsteady. There was this urge in you, a strong one, begging for you to start shouting. Andy sent you a drilling stare, grabbing both of your wrists with force. He moved his body onto yours, forcing your back to face the wall.

“Stop fucking talking,” He spat with absolutely no remorse behind his voice. Andy’s stare was set on you, lacking its typical light of positivity. You knew this look; it spoke volumes. He used his hand to pin your wrists above your head. A smirk formed on his face as he tightened the grip around them. He knew he won, he knew you were about to submit yourself to his cravings and desires. This was the time for you to stop him, but you didn’t. Andy gifted you with time, couple of seconds to respond but you did absolutely nothing. This was his sign, his confirmation of your consent for his further movements.

“Get on your fucking knees,” His command sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t know why but you obeyed like your life depended on it. There was something about his dark side that made you follow his orders. The way he looked at you, spoke to you, did you…one could only adore it.

Slowly, your legs gave in and you were on your knees. Initial thoughts made you think he wanted his pants unzipped, tips of your nails on his balls, and mouth wide open, ready to take his size on your tongue; his next actions proved you wrong. Andy grabbed your hair, harshly pulling them back as you hissed. “Be a good girl and crawl to the couch. I wanna see you on all fours, don’t you dare get up. Ass up, face down. No words until I tell you to speak.”

You gulped, being familiar with this tone. Your knees and hands moved, directing you to the sofa in the living room. Unsurely, you got up just to place yourself on the couch, ass up and face down, exactly the way he wanted. At this very moment you hated the control, the power this man had over you. If your brain stopped sending obvious signals to your fucking genitalia, you would yell at him in a heartbeat.

“Just like that, very well,” His comment almost provoked your eyes to roll. Andy being bossy with you gave you tingles and drove you mad at the same time.

The material of your silky night dressed was lifted, exposing your bare back. His strong hand gave you a painful and punishing spank leading to your body shivering under his touch. Seeing this reaction Andy repeated his action. “Liking this, princess?” Your ears welcomed his voice, a silent moan was your only response. No talking, no talking, not talking, you had to continually remind yourself. If you didn’t comply Andy would make the next spanking session a lot less pleasurable for you.

“I’m going to fuck you the way I want. Stay still and enjoy, understood?” He rasped, examining the skin on your back with his fingers. “Y-Yes,” You squirmed, still sensitive after series of slaps your bottom received. His presence was extremely intimidating at this point, you couldn’t form your words as well as you wished. Andy enjoyed you in this state way too much.

“Yes, what?” His voice was ice cold, he wasn’t shy to let you know he didn’t like your first answer. You swallowed intensely, letting out a silent gasp. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke out, making sure he hears you loud and clearly. If you didn’t, he would just make you repeat it until you he was satisfied with the volume.

You could hear the characteristic sound of his belt and zipper undoing as his trousers were lowered down to hid mid-thigh. You rested your cheek on the leather material underneath you. Biting your bottom lip, you let your legs spread wider for your lover. His silent chuckle assured you he was satisfied with this move. This was exactly how he liked you, this was his best view. Andy dedicated couple of seconds to admire your bottom, imaging how pretty you would look with both hands tied back by a thick rope. He let this image sink in his head before grabbing his cock. You couldn’t see his him, but you knew he is just looking down on you with interest.

Andy didn’t bother to begin off slow, his movements were fast and demanding from the jump, only heartened by your desperate, pathetic moans. He slid his hardness in and out at a at a fast pace. His fingers dig into the skin of your bottom, burning through it with every single push. A breathless whimper left your mouth but was quickly replaced by a loud moan.

“Like that, baby?” He hissed, entering his cock deep inside of you. By the way he held you, you could tell he wasn’t going to be gentle. One of his hands travelled to your neck, mercilessly squeezing your throat. Andy slammed into you with force, making both of you moan loudly in response. His hand adjusted to your neck like a perfect necklace before limiting your access to oxygen. This show of dominance made you crazy, you were so wet for him, so in need for more.

“Yeah, fuck, y-yes,” A desperate tone of your voice was barely recognisable for you. Your fingers urgently grabbed onto the sofa, embracing the material as hard as they could.

You knew Andy can go all night, no stops. The amount of times he left you overstimulated, begging for him to stop was insane. The pounding continued, making both of you sweaty, breathless messes. His movements were fast and heavy now, snarling curses under his breathe. The thrusts were getting erratic, he was desperate to be as deep as possible.

You lost the track of time, but it was beautiful. The feeling of him inside of you was ecstatic to say the least. He knew how to work his way around women: what to do with them, how to gift them with full satisfaction, to make them feel how you feel right now.

In need of a release, your walls cuddled his cock. “Daddy, I-, “ You only managed to gasp out the first part of your sentence before reaching your peak. A loud groan escaped your lips, leaving you speechless. The expression present on your face was pornographic; eyes shut and mouth wide open with your body twitching in response to your partner still hardly pounding you from the back.

Your legs became fatigued, completely drained by the sensations the lawyer offered you. Andy senesced it, grabbing your hips more firmly to ensure you won’t collapse. With a low groan, Andy finally let himself go. The feeling of warmth exploded within your walls, introducing you to his load. Lewd moans left his mouth as he rode out the last moments of his high. Unsteady breathing was the only sound in the living room for next couple of seconds. Andy slowly withdrew himself from your pussy as his cum made its way down your thigh, escaping your insides at a slow pace.

He removed his grip from your hips, the lack of strength within forbade your posture to stay in a doggy position. Your stomach found comfort in the sofa underneath; your muscles relaxed in result of you laying down. Your body begged for a couple of deep breathes before shifting to lay on your back. Tired and exhausted you looked up at the man who participated in enduring your current state.

“I needed that,” He finally spoke, his eyes giving you their full attention. “I’m sorry, baby. I know I’m a twisted fuck.” Andy said decisively, however, still sent you a heartfelt smile. A sincere look of love followed right after, making you feel like a stupid, overemotional teenage girl. Gosh, you loved this man. Andy lowered himself down and connected your lips together in a passionate kiss that ended, or at least postponed the argument until further notice. You knew he wasn’t finished with you tonight.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagines #chris evans #andy barber #imagine

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spideymybucky · 3 years

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I’d never stan lizzo because she’s done problematic things. She’s said body positivity is only for curvy people...

And I support her. Here’s the thing, skinny girls have always had representation in the media. Yes, I don’t deny people telling skinny girls to eat more or if they have an ED, but they’ve always been perceived as healthy and the normal. Medium-sized girls, although they’ve been called fat, they aren’t. They have representation, and some just call them thick and pretty. These girls will still get clothes made for their sizes and be able to have privileges that fat girls can’t. I think they’re all beautiful, but the beauty ends with the fat girl. They are always made fun of, and jokes are made at their expense. Fat girls can’t find clothes at stores; when you enter Hollister, they tell you that they don’t carry above 16 and order it online. Some boutiques and high-end clothes aren’t even available in bigger sizes or don’t want to have bigger sizes for women above 16. Want to know the average size in America? 16 to 18, yet most stores don’t cater to these sizes because they aren’t for medium-sized women. Also, if you are bigger than 16-18, it's harder for you to buy clothes and be perceived as attractive or healthy. Though every woman has the right to be body positive, at this time and day, bigger women who have rolls and big stomachs like Lizzo are still bullied and viewed as not sexy and unattractive. They are told to watch what they eat and have to think twice when they go out to eat. They have to check if a store will have their size, or it’ll be embarrassing to go there and then not even get to check if they have something you like. Bigger women have always been ignored in our society, and I’m tired of them being called curvy. NOT EVERY FAT WOMAN HAS CURVES; THEY ALL HAVE DIFFERENT SHAPES, yet to be curvy and pretty, you have to be fat WITH A SNATCHED WAIST. You have to have big boobs, itty bitty waist, like Ashely Graham (cause she’s considered curvy but ISN´T FAT), and have you’re fat distributed in ways that suit you. Body positivity has ALWAYS BEEN HARDER ON FAT WOMEN. Why? BECAUSE OF THE LACK OF REPRESENTATION. You don’t get to see fat women on TV; they’re always medium to a bit bigger sized. Ashley Graham- she isn’t fat; she’s just curvy and average-sized. Barbie Ferreira: She isn’t fat; she’s just a bit bigger, medium-sized woman. America Ferrera, she was considered the fat one for Ugly Betty and Sisterhood of traveling pants when she isn’t FAT. Big girls, fat girls, THEY DON’T HAVE REPRESENTATION AND THATS THE PROBLEM. These normal-sized, skinny girls and medium-sized, have been accepted to this society, but fat girls haven’t; that's why it's crucial to shift Body Positivity for fat girls. They don’t have representation unless they have “curves” and are under a size 18. What is funny is that NO ONE understands this. Y’all don’t understand the trauma that being fat brings you in this society, the PTSD you get from it, and how it developed into various things when you grow up without representation. Skinny-medium-sized women won’t be denied jobs for their looks; fat girls will. Doesn’t matter what doctor you go to; if you’re fat, you are automatically unhealthy, and that’s what's causing you your health problems. Fat women gave to disclose they are fat on dating apps or else they can get insulted by men when they meet them. Fat women are always looked at with a dismissive gaze; people will look at them and wonder why they aren’t healthy; it doesn’t matter if they are healthy. Fat women will be judged if they become mothers; they’ll be perceived as the ones that give unhealthy food to their kids, or because they’re fat, they won’t be able to do this or that. None of that HAPPENS WHEN YOU ARE SKINNY OR MEDIUM SIZED. NONE OF THAT. AND WHY AM I ABLE TO SPEAK ABOUT THIS? CAUSE YES, I AM FAT, AND I HATE MYSELF BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT SOCIETY MADE ME BELIEVE. I don’t have representation to look up to except Lizzo, who’s young and just a bit older than me. I’m scared of men and how they fetishize fat women, I’m afraid of eating in front of people, I’m scared of many things, yet I’m healthy and should be

living a normal life. But the bullying, the doctor visits, and all of what I mentioned have given me, and THOUSANDS OF OTHER GIRLS TRAUMAS JUST BECAUSE THEY DON’T LOOK LIKE SKINNY-MEDIUM SIZED GIRLS. SO LIZZO has EVERY RIGHT to say that BODY POSITIVE SHOULD BE AIMED FOR FAT GIRLS. They are UNDERREPRESENTED, IGNORED, FETISHIZED, BULLIED, AND DISMISSED every day. I don't see this happening to other body types... I don't care if I lose followers for this, and if you hate my response, I don't care either.

#Anonymous #fat girls #shouldn't be fetishized #body positive should be aimed to them #until they get representation #is it that hard to understand?#stan lizzo #lizzo was speaking truths tho #lizzo

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floatingbook · 3 years

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i have a question or moreso a thought that I'd like to hear your opinion on. I agree with your post about how we should view our bodies as women but it's hard for me.to be grateful for my body because I like with chronic pain everyday. I know that doesn't seem like it relates to body image but it does - I feel like if I'm not grateful for this body, it won't be loved. Ideally I'd love to be able to see my body as neutral but it's hard when I associate it with pain. I'm sorry for like unloading in your inbox, I just think you have lots of interesting things to say!

Take what I’m writing with a healthy dose of salt, because I don’t live with chronic pain. It’s not something that I always have in mind, as you probably do, it’s not something that I’m constantly reminded of whenever I move or not move. It’s normal, natural, logical that you’d have trouble being grateful for your body, or even just accepting it as it is, if it’s a source of pain for you.

As long as you’re alive though, you’re going to exist as this body, pain or no pain. There’s no way you can live without your body. You’re in it, literally, together. That’s the line of thinking I focus on when I’m lapse in bouts of self-hate regarding my breasts. If you let resentment for your body build up—and again, I’m not saying that this resentment is unwarranted—but if you let it build up, what kind of life are you living? How does it make the pain more bearable? Doesn’t it add yet another layer of things you have to live with that you’d rather not carry? How does it serve you?

Accepting your body doesn’t mean accepting all the pain you’re suffering and settling at that. It’s more along the line, ‘my body has limitations, some things are hard, some things are painful, but today I managed to do x or y and without my brain and my hands and my legs and these muscles I have worked hard for, I wouldn’t have”, and you know, recognising that despite the pain, you’re alive and doing things, and if you were without a body, you’d be doing none of that.

You’re body isn’t neutral, it’s you, and sometimes it’s hard, but it’s not all bad (at least I hope it isn’t). Your body is you, you’ll do what you can, and sometimes that’ll be less than you expected, and sometimes that’ll be more. If you’re not actively hating yourself, then you’re already doing a lot better than a lot of women, so take it a day at a time.

I hope you have a good week, anon, and you have my best wishes.

#answered #anonymous #body #self-acceptance #chronic pain

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werevulvi · 3 years

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I hope these show up in the right order. This kinda stuff is exactly what makes me feel lost about my transness. Like I was just trying to be nice and agreed with this person's post. I had no interest in being an asshole or arguing what bio sex, or even what butch, is. I was just declaring myself as a bio female because it felt relevant to the topic and how I relate to it. It amazes me how even the pro self-ID types are against self-ID when someone identifies in a way that doesn't suit their narrative, even when it's a trans person whose identity they deny.

They blocked me and I don't want anyone going after them, I just wanna rant. And not even about this specific post or person, but more so about trying to exist as a gender critical trans person in general. I've been thinking about that for days, weeks, perhaps months or even years already, so it's really not about this specific person. I guess it was just what triggered me to finally start writing.

I guess I feel like both most other trans people and most other gender critical people, view transness as incompatible with gender critical opinions, and like that makes me feel pulled in two opposing directions. But anyone of any ideology can be dysphoric and transition because it helps them cope. I don't think that my opinions, or my choice to hang out with radfems, means that I'm self-hating, or even that I'm going against the needs of my own trans demographic. My own trans demographic is just all too good at confusing wants with needs... generally speaking. I see sex and gender the way I do because it makes sense to me personally, and I don't even argue that it's necessarily the objective truth. I don't think there is such a thing. It's just my truth, my perception of the world.

That I can't make myself see myself as a man for real, despite my dysphoria and transition, doesn't mean that I think it's wrong to transition, or that my body is damaged by it, or that transitioning is useless. Because it's not. I love my transition and everything it has given me. I'm comfortable with my transitioned body. It deserves love, especially my love. And although I still struggle with some insecurities, I feel like I love my body. It's been... incredibly good to me. It's stayed very healthy, and even keeping up a strong immune system despite my smoking, self harm, careless sexual escapades, etc. I may still have a fraught relationship with being female, but as long as I transition, I seem to be managing it fairly well. Except then I have a more fraught relationship with society instead. Can't win, but that's life, innit?

I don't think either my transness or my political opinions are my real problem or ever was. I think it's society's constant fighting about trans people's genders, lives and choices, that makes me constantly cave in on myself. Can't handle the pressure.

It feels like it's only ever getting worse. Ten years ago my biggest concern was people not ever finding me attractive because I was turning myself into some kind of a freak, which luckily I was proven to be wrong about. Five years ago my biggest concern was nonbinary people trying to normalize asking people their pronouns, which made me fear that people would never leave me alone about my gender, unless I forced myself to be hyper-masculine, which I still worry about. Three years ago my biggest concern was having been stripped of my sex-based rights and dehumanized for how I had chosen to treat my dysphoria, which I still worry about as well, and now...

...my biggest concerns are being treated as a third gender, fetishistic predator who should be shoved away into gender neutral spaces, and I fear that one day medical transition will be taken away as an option to treat dysphoria if transness is continued to be rejected as a medical condition. My heart rate is ever increasing. Can I even realistically "just go on with my life" anymore? I feel compelled to do something, but I also feel like there isn't anything I can do. No matter how many people I try to "educate" about dysphoria and why transition is incredibly important, all the while being as humble as I can, I am seriously lacking behind the much faster spread of harmful misinformation.

Thing is, I do not blame gender critical people for spreading some of that misinformation. For example of trans women as fetishistic predators, which people apply to trans men when they still fail to understand that MtF is not the only kinda trans there is, or when we dare to be just a little bit feminine while passing as male. If anything, I blame the true sources of such harmful claims, which slowly increase my anxious heart rate, over years, turning into decades, of living as openly trans. I blame opportunistic men who pretend to be trans women for gaining access to women's spaces, be it prisons, spas, shelters, sports, what have you, when they cannot possibly be dysphoric judging by how happily they swing their dicks around women as if it's no big deal and make no attempt at transitioning, but also who cares if they are dysphoric, no one should behave that way either way. I blame the trans rights activists who say lesbians have to suck dick if it's attached to a trans woman, and those who say that gay men have to be into pussy and date trans men. I blame those who say that trans women are bio female by virtue of identifying as female, and claiming that they can get periods, by virtue of... bowel cramps?! I'd also blame those who try to change female specific language on behalf of shielding trans men from our own dysphoria, in the rare cases we'd end up getting pregnant or manage to drag our asses to the gyno office for a pap smear, which... most of us really don't, regardless of if you call us women or uterus-havers, sincerely, please stop. It makes people think trans women are trying to take over the term "woman" entirely for themselves, which of course they don't.

I could go on, but I won't, as this post is not about these things. It's more so about how estranged I feel from the people who spout these things, knowing that they think they're speaking for me and my supposed needs as a tranny. But I see no point in trying to educate them, as they won't listen any more to me than they would to a radfem, and again, I think this post in my screenshots shows just how unwilling they are to listen to me.

I guess living with my transition on constant display is what's hard, and I guess I just need to vent about that, as it's always judged one way or the other; as either me having made myself into a man, or that I'm a delusional woman who mutilated herself; and it's kinda hard to find a kind and sane middle ground, that perhaps I'm just a victim of circumstances, and trying to make the most of my own life, regardless of what the fuck I am. That social shit, on top of dealing with dysphoria, makes it really difficult to not hate myself, I guess. But I have tried to live stealth and that made it if possible even worse, as it felt like I was lying, keeping a huge secret that grew in me like a spreading virus.

What I want is to just live my life, and for neither my bio sex, nor my transition, to stop me from doing that. I want to work through the worst of my autism, enough to be able to pursue a career in some low-paying labor, blue-collar job; get a car and driver's licence, find a suitable husband to have a child and cats with; I want my own garden, an art studio; I want to build muscle to become strong and even more independent (and perhaps strong enough to carry that husband, but at least to carry myself), and so on. When I picture myself in that potential future, it is with this male-like appearance I transitioned my body into, but it is also as a mother and wife.

And thinking about all of that makes me happy, it makes me smile and feel joy, meaningfulness, hope... While thinking about arguing online with some miserable fuck, who's deadset on arguing semantics and calling me a terf, when all I wanted was to show a little bit of kindness, that "hey, I agree with you, you make a good point here, and I'm not here to fight" only to be spat right back into my face... just makes me feel sad. Whatever happened to diversity of opinion? It's gone, it became labeled as bad, and left people like me with no place to be.

There is no point in arguing with such people, or even trying not to argue. There's no winning in that, there's no reward, no accomplishment. It's better to walk away.

I know I just have to get over this, this inner conflict of going against my transness with my gender critical opinions, and that I'm going against my womanhood with my transition - and be stronger than the political climate that's pulling me into pieces. But if it's peace that I want... I can just forget about it. There's no road there. But I have trouble letting go of that simple dream. The internet is constantly manipulating me into thinking I have an exciting social life, when in fact it's non-existent, and the lie is destructive. With internet vs real life, I'm living a double life. One of those lives has a future, the other one does not.

I'm glad I made this rant. It actually made me feel better, and reminded me that it's still worth it. Being trans, moving forward, focusing on what is good and what can become good in life. And it reminded me that the internet is merely an imitation of life, a substitute for human connection, and can... as with much else, be both good and bad.

#discourse #venting #tired of being pulled in opposing directions #because im not the right kinda trans #or the right kinda feminist #i have to live with myself and i dont know how #focusing back on what actually matters in life #just thoughts #gender politics #ok to rb

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hysterialevi · 3 years

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Hjarta | Chapter 5

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

BJORNHEIMR

Galloping directly for the longhouse, Sigurd rushed through the streets of Bjornheimr like a mad bull as he brought Eivor back to his home, grabbing the immediate attention of scattered onlookers. Men and women alike stopped in their tracks to see what all the commotion was about and stared at them in alarm, causing the paths to be littered with curious passersby.

As for Sigurd, the man had been riding relentlessly ever since their unexpected battle in the forest. Eivor insisted that his new wound was nothing to worry about, but even then, the prince could see that his friend was growing weaker by the second.

The younger man’s skin had become increasingly pale within the short span of their onerous journey, and despite his efforts to sit upright, Eivor’s body was clearly fighting against him more and more with a desperate urge to lie down.

At this point, he was simply trying to make sure that he didn’t tip off the saddle. Enough blood had gushed out of Eivor’s wound that his vision was starting to turn prickly around the edges, and he felt as if he was going to collapse at any minute.

He needed to see Ingrida, and fast.

Yanking on the reins of his horse, Sigurd forced the animal to come to an aggressive halt as they finally reached the longhouse, causing the steed to let out a panicked whinny. No one in the village had come to see what was going on just yet, but the prince noticed a small crowd of people gathering not too far away from where they stood.

They didn’t seem to realize that Eivor had been injured or that Kjotve’s men were lurking in the woods, but Sigurd’s state of distress was enough to put them on edge. The expression on his face had been knotted into a scowl of heightened concern, and the brisk pace in which he walked gave off the impression that he was in the midst of dealing with an urgent matter. They just didn’t know what it was.

“We’re here, Eivor,” Sigurd reassured, swiftly hopping off the saddle. “Hold on just a little longer.”

Grabbing the other man by the waist, the prince gently helped Eivor down from the horse and allowed him to lean on his shoulder, ensuring that he wouldn’t stumble to the ground upon returning to his feet. He appeared to be keeping his balance with a minimal amount of trouble, but even then, Sigurd didn’t want to risk taking his eyes off him.

“I’m... alright.” Eivor reiterated, his voice faltering at the end. “I only... need to sit down.”

“Don’t be silly,” Sigurd replied. “You need someone to take care of that cut. Look how much it’s bleeding. Just stay with me for now, alright? You’ll be fine.”

Dragging the younger man away from the horse, the prince escorted his friend into the longhouse as the sound of other voices started to reach his ears, bringing him a subtle sense of relief.

Through the tall archway ahead of them, Sigurd saw Arngeir, Ulfar, and his own father conversing with each other in the distance, pacing around the throne room as their words bounced off the wooden walls.

They were speaking in solemn tones that were sharpened with a hint of concern, and it sounded as if their discussion was about the very same subject that brought Sigurd here in the first place. Kjotve.

“Kjotve’s been quiet for too long,” Ulfar remarked, his mood laden with suspicion. “I don’t like it. For the first time in years, two of his primary enemies are in the same place, and yet, he does nothing to take advantage of the situation. Why? It’s not like him.”

Arngeir nodded in agreement. “I understand your concerns, old friend, but we have no reason to act yet. Our warriors have reported no sightings of Kjotve’s men in this region, and Styrbjorn says that his clan managed to reach Bjornheimr without encountering them at all. Let us not instill fear into our people’s hearts. This is meant to be a time of celebration.”

The other man wasn’t so sure. “All I’m saying is, if I were Kjotve, I’d take this opportunity to snuff out this alliance. I wouldn’t give my enemies the chance to band together against me. We should at least place some more defenses around the village; have more men on the lookout. We can’t take any risks, especially when we have a king in our company.”

Styrbjorn offered a compromise. “Perhaps there is another solution. Instead of using the resources to place more defenses, we can simply send a patrol into the surrounding areas. They can eradicate any threats they come across while we focus on getting this wedding in order. If the patrol finds something worth noting, then we will act.”

Sigurd jumped into the conversation. “No need, father. We already did.”

Turning towards sudden interruption, the three men brought their attention to the opposite end of the hall, only to freeze in shock when they noticed the startling amount of blood streaming down from Eivor’s face.

“Odin’s beard...!” Arngeir exclaimed under his breath, striding over to them. “What happened to you two?”

“Kjotve’s men,” the prince explained, meeting the jarl in the middle. “They ambushed us at the waterfall to the north.”

Ulfar glanced outside. “You mean the Tears of Ymir?”

Eivor nodded, his movements slothful due to exhaustion. “Yes. Sigurd and I were out for a ride... they leapt out of the trees like a pair of wolves.”

“And where are they now?”

Sigurd answered his question. “Dead. We managed to kill them. There were only two, but I suspect there could be more. We would be fools to let our guard down.” He turned to the younger man, throwing in another piece of information. “...Eivor saved my life today. If he hadn’t been there, I’d likely be dead by now.”

Styrbjorn gazed at Eivor, bowing his head in respect. “Is that true? Well then, you have my eternal gratitude, Wolf-Kissed.”

Ulfar crossed his arms, gesturing to Eivor’s injury. “You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about. We must take more precautions, otherwise this will surely happen again. Kjotve won’t back down.”

Arngeir let out a wary sigh, finally conceding the man’s point. “Very well, Ulfar. We shall proceed with your plan. Find Eirik, and gather a small party of men. Scout the woods around Bjornheimr. If you find anymore of Kjotve’s clan in the forest, kill them. And if possible, bring some back alive. The information they have could be invaluable.”

Ulfar gave him a firm nod. “Of course, my jarl. I’ll start immediately.”

“In the meantime,” Arngeir continued, addressing the prince, “Sigurd, could you please escort Eivor to the seeress? I hate to ask this of you since you’ve already done so much, but...”

“Have no fear.” Sigurd replied. “I’ll bring him to Ingrida.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. And thank you for bringing my son back home as well. I don’t know what we would do without him.”

Arngeir began making his way to the war room, anxious to set his ideas in motion. “Anyways, we should return to our duties. The preparations for this wedding will continue as usual, but now I fear we must also focus on keeping Kjotve’s men at bay. He will return with a second strike -- this I am sure of -- and we must be ready. Otherwise, this alliance will have been for naught. Take great care in the days to come, all of you, and may the gods guide your path.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE TEMPLE

Standing idly in the corner, Sigurd watched quietly as Ingrida frantically made her way around the hut and gathered a handful of materials, muttering to herself in frustration. Eivor was currently sitting in a chair not too far away from the prince and holding a rag to his face, preventing the blood from making any more of a mess.

Despite the pain he was experiencing however, Eivor appeared to be doing much better compared to how he was before. A healthy tint had returned to the surface of his skin, and the world seemed to realign itself the minute he sat down. He no longer felt as if the ground was going to drop out from underneath him, and Sigurd’s presence only added to his well-being.

Overall, he had returned to normal in spite of their chaotic morning, and suffered no more than what was probably going to be a deep scar in the future. A part of him admittedly worried about what it would look like in the days to come, but the other part was just happy to be alive.

Eivor could’ve been killed today after all, and he would’ve been lying if he said that didn’t frighten him.

“...Foolish boy,” Ingrida scolded under her breath. “Look at what you’ve done. Had the blade cut you any higher, you’d be missing an eye like Ulfar by now. And what if Sigurd hadn’t been there to bring you back? You’d be stranded in the woods, bleeding all over yourself.”

Eivor smirked at the seeress’ words, admittedly somewhat amused by her motherly nature.

“I know, Ingrida.” He replied affectionately. “I’m sorry.”

The elderly woman crouched down in front of Eivor and held his chin in place, snatching the rag from his grasp before dipping it in a fresh bowl of water.

“Thank the gods it was only two of Kjotve’s men. I shudder to think about what could’ve happened if there had been any more. You’re both warriors of great skill, but even you’re not invincible. You must be more careful in the future. Do you understand?”

“...Yes, Ingrida.”

The seeress sighed and shook her head, twisting the rag dry of any excess water. “Good. It is a great honor to walk through the gates of Valhalla, but we needn’t rush the journey there. There are plenty of ways to reach the Corpse Hall, and none to return. Remember that.”

She paused for a second and glanced around in confusion, clearly searching for something.

“Where have my herbs gone?” She wondered aloud. “I had them right here. Did I--”

The woman let out an annoyed tsk and stood up from the floor, turning to address Sigurd.

“Sigurd,” Ingrida said, handing him the rag, “I need to collect some more ingredients before I can treat Eivor’s wound. Would you ensure that it stays clean in the meantime?”

The prince took the cloth, mindful not to touch the area that would make contact with Eivor’s face. “Of course, seeress.”

“Thank you. I won’t take long. Just wipe the blood away, and make sure it doesn’t get infected. I’ll be back shortly.”

Taking her leave from the hut, Ingrida strode through the door at a brisk pace and headed into the nearby gardens, gently rattling the charms that hung from the frame on her way out. They swayed into each other with a series of faint clinks and twirled calmly in the breeze, morphing the sunlight that flowed through the archway.

Meanwhile, Eivor stayed in place as Sigurd quickly took the seeress’ position and knelt in front of his friend, attentively looking after his wound. He dipped the rag in the water and wiped away the streaks of blood staining the other man’s face, careful not to apply too much pressure.

His touch was delicate and soft contrary to what Eivor expected, and as time went on, the younger man actually started to feel comfortable under his care. Initially, he found it a bit odd to be in such close proximity to someone he hardly even knew, but surprisingly, Sigurd didn’t appear to reflect his timidness.

Instead, the prince simply leaned closer to Eivor and continued to clean his cut, seemingly preoccupied with something else. His brow was crinkled in deep thought as he wrestled with his inner concerns, and his eyes had returned to the same look of lostness that he had when they first met. A cloud of remorse dimmed the usual twinkle in his gaze, and his expression hung low with a grim sense of conflict.

A thousand things seemed to be colliding inside Sigurd’s head at the moment, and yet -- as always -- he cared to share none of them.

So, finally, Eivor decided to ask.

“...Are you alright, Sigurd?” He suddenly said, causing his friend to pause. “You look troubled.”

The prince woke up from his state of contemplation and locked eyes with Eivor, faltering as if he had forgotten where he was.

“Oh, I’m... I’m fine, Eivor.” Sigurd replied. “I just...”

The older man sighed deeply and placed the rag down for a moment, slouching his shoulders in defeat.

“...Forgive me. I lost myself in thought. I was just thinking about everything that happened in the forest earlier, and... well, I’m sorry.”

Eivor cocked a brow at him. “Sorry? For what? You can’t possibly think this is your fault.”

Sigurd’s tone hardened with guilt. “But it is. I should’ve known better than to drag you into the woods with Kjotve’s men still threatening our shores, especially when there’s an alliance in the making. They’ve already caused both our clans an abundance of issues, and yet, I thought it wise to wander into the forest alone. If you hadn’t been there, gods only know what would’ve happened to me.”

He gave Eivor a glance of sincere gratitude. “Thank you, my friend. You saved me from my own foolishness.”

The younger man deemed the apology unnecessary. “Don’t forget that you saved me too, Sigurd. Without you, I probably wouldn’t have gotten back to the village in time. I was... actually surprised when you didn’t mention that to your father.”

“It wasn’t important.” Sigurd stated. “I was the one who put you in danger to begin with.”

“No,” his friend insisted. “You weren’t. Kjotve’s men are the ones who would’ve killed us. If anything, you protected me when I was most vulnerable. I don’t like being the one who needs to be rescued, but you saved my life, Sigurd. There’s no denying that. I owe you as much as you owe me.”

Sigurd smiled warmly at the sentiment, appearing slightly more relaxed than before. “Then I suppose we’re even.”

Eivor chuckled at him in return. “...I suppose we are.”

Falling silent for a second, the prince retreated to the safe haven buried inside his mind and returned to the task Ingrida assigned him with, dabbing away some more blood that was gathering on Eivor’s skin. A familiar type of affection now softened the edges of his usually stern gaze, and without even realizing it, Sigurd found himself peering longingly into the Wolf-Kissed’s eyes.

He seemed to be experiencing the same emotions that Eivor had been continuously battling with ever since encountering his new friend, and much like the younger man, Sigurd’s first response was to stifle these feelings.

It may have been no more than a spark for now, but he knew better than to dismiss the sincerity of the embers flickering in his heart. He could feel something more profound brewing beneath the surface, and he doubted he’d be able to fight against it if he allowed it to blossom any further.

At the same time though, Sigurd wondered if this was what the gods intended. Originally, he assumed that the Nornir brought him to Bjornheimr for the sake of meeting his future wife, but now... he could see that they led him here for someone else.

Randvi may’ve been the one he came here for, but Sigurd could already tell she wouldn’t be the reason he was going to stay -- and the realization shook him to the core.

“...Sigurd?” Eivor repeated, speaking quieter than usual. “Is everything alright? You look like you have something to say.”

The prince remained sullen with disconcertment and attempted to straighten out his thoughts, unsure of how to put them into words.

“You know, Eivor...” Sigurd whispered vehemently, “...when that man struck you with his blade, part of me truly believed you had been killed for a moment. You were completely motionless, and there was so much blood pooling on the snow beneath you. It... it frightened me. I’m aware that we haven’t known each other for that long, but...”

He trailed off into silence, causing Eivor to urge him on. “...But what?”

Sigurd let out a breath, completely forgetting about the other man’s wound for the time-being. “...Part of me is already afraid of losing you. I know it sounds silly, considering we’ve only just met.”

The younger man shook his head, admittedly touched by the confession. “No, I... I think I understand how you feel, actually. You and I have only seen each other twice in just as many days, and yet, it almost seems as if I’ve known you for much longer than that. There’s just... something there. Something that I don’t have the words to describe.”

“Indeed. I know what you speak of. Ever since we first met at the feast, I’ve had this foreign sensation blooming inside me, but I never thought to bring it up out of the fear of sounding deluded. So I’m relieved you understand.”

Eivor laughed softly at himself, giving the prince a tender look. “You know what’s strange, Sigurd? I hardly delve into these kinds of conversations with anyone else. Typically, Ulfar is the only one who can engage with me in such a way, but... it feels completely natural around you. You draw it out of me like it’s nothing. I enjoy our talks.”

The prince wiped away some more blood, unintentionally allowing his hand to linger on Eivor’s cheek.

“It gladdens me to hear it. Perhaps we can meet again before the wedding occurs. Hopefully under less dire circumstances. Only if you want to, of course.”

The Wolf-Kissed beamed radiantly. “I’d like that.”

Bringing their discussion to a halt, Ingrida suddenly came barging back inside with a bowl of new ingredients in her hand, causing Sigurd to retreat his hand as if he had touched an open flame.

Meanwhile, the seeress hastily shooed him to the side and took his place in front of the injured man, wasting no time in tending to Eivor’s wound.

“Hold still.” She instructed, dipping her fingers into the herbal mixture. She grabbed his chin and began applying the ointment, ensuring that it covered the entire area. “This will stop the bleeding and prevent it from getting infected. Keep it on for the rest of the day. Do not wipe it off. Understand?”

Eivor nodded, only to have his head wrenched back into place by Ingrida’s firm hold. “Of course, Ingrida.”

“Good. The sword cut you deep, but thankfully, you should have no more than a scar to remind you of your carelessness today. If the wound starts to swell, come see me again. We’ll sort you out. Otherwise, just make sure that it doesn’t fester.”

“I will. Thank you, seeress. For everything.”

The old woman released Eivor from her grasp and rose to her feet, allowing the young man to walk free. She patted her hands clean of any ointment that remained on the skin and brought the bowls back to their shelves, emptying the diverse range of contents that sat in them.

“You’re welcome, little cub.”

She turned to the prince, giving him a small bow of respect. “And thank you, Sigurd, for looking after him. Despite his recklessness, Eivor holds a special place in our heart. We would be lost without him. I know many folks will be grateful for your assistance as well.”

The man returned the bow with a smile. “I only did what I felt was right.”

Ingrida thought to herself for a moment, crossing her arms in ponder. “Hm. Perhaps I misjudged you. The gods advised me to be wary of your arrival, but so far, you’ve done nothing to lend merit to their warnings. I trust it will stay that way?”

Sigurd nodded assuredly. “Of course, seeress.”

“Good. Then I can rest easy, for I know Eivor will be in good hands. Anyway, you should return to your duties. I’ve occupied you for long enough. Take care of yourself in these troubling times, and stay away from the woods. We needn’t tempt the Valkyries anymore. In the meantime, Eivor, I’d like to have a word with you.”

The prince strolled towards the exit and glanced over his shoulder, saying one last thing to the other man before taking his leave.

“I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready, Eivor.”

Removing himself from the vicinity, Sigurd gave the seeress some space to talk as he stepped back out into the wintry air, practically being slapped in the face by an icy chill. The temperature had barely warmed up since their escapade in the forest, and the only thing providing the village any sort of heat was sun’s exuberant rays, trying desperately to pierce through the glacial breeze.

As for Ingrida, she approached Eivor as soon as the other man was gone and kept her voice low, making sure that Sigurd wouldn’t overhear them. Her gaze seemed to be stuck on the prince’s distant figure, and the hushed manner in which she spoke led Eivor to suspect that she knew more than she was letting on.

“Listen to me, young cub,” the seeress murmured as she continued to clean the hut. “It is a dangerous path you walk. I would advise abandoning it as soon as possible.”

The viking blinked in confusion, uncertain of what she was talking about. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What path?”

Ingrida tilted her head towards Sigurd. “Do not think me blind, Eivor. I see how you look at him. It is the same way my son Eirik looks at Thora. Your heart is fueled by passion, but it will only lead you into disaster.”

Eivor chuckled, admittedly impressed by the woman’s instincts. “Is it truly so obvious?”

“Indeed. I’ve never seen your soul burn so brightly before. This man ignites something within you... and you must snuff it out. For the sake of this marriage.”

The young man attempted to reassure her. “Have no fear, Ingrida. I won’t allow these thoughts to spiral beyond my control. I understand the necessity of this alliance. I wouldn’t put it in jeopardy.”

The seeress decided to let go of the topic for now, albeit reluctantly. “If you say so, Eivor. But this kind of love is not restrained so easily. Trying to control it is like trying to control the ocean. See that it does not overwhelm you.”

“I will, Ingrida. You don’t need to worry about me.”

The woman snickered. “On the contrary, if I didn’t, you’d be dead by now.”

Ingrida stepped in front of Eivor, smiling proudly at him. “Ah, but you are a man now. The way ahead is your own. How you decide to tread its waters is up to you. I cannot guarantee it will be safe, but I trust that you will approach it with wisdom.”

She flicked a dismissive hand towards the door and turned her back to Eivor, focusing on the collection of scattered herbs lying throughout the hut.

“But enough of that. Your friend is waiting for you, and I have work to do. Come see me again if your wound deteriorates. We should be able to take care of it with no problem.”

Eivor waved goodbye to the elderly woman, making his way out the door.

“Farewell, Ingrida. Stay safe. And thank you again. I’ll speak with you soon.”

“You too, Eivor. Be careful out there.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A LITTLE LATER

Sauntering away from the warmth of the seeress’ hut, Eivor strolled out into the open once again and pushed himself through the arctic weather, squinting in the light that suddenly hit his eyes. A calming wind could be felt whistling through the heart of the village, and stretching out in front of him, the young man saw a trail of sunken footprints leading to Sigurd himself.

At the moment, the prince was sitting on a bench next to the row of statues that towered over Bjornheimr and waiting patiently for Eivor to rejoin him, undeniably curious about what Ingrida had to say.

He fidgeted with his hands in an anxious manner and stuck to his own thoughts, not even realizing that he had company again. His ears were seemingly deaf to the series of footsteps that crunched their way towards him, and when Eivor’s first greeting didn’t manage to catch his attention, the younger man repeated his name even louder, throwing a puzzled look at him.

“Sigurd?”

The redheaded viking jolted his head towards the intrusion, shifting his mood entirely once he laid eyes on Eivor.

“Ah, Eivor. There you are.”

The Wolf-Kissed laughed, placing a foot on the bench. “Has anyone ever told you that you get lost in your thoughts easily?”

A grin spread across Sigurd’s face. “My father, Dag, our own seeress... the list goes on. I fear it’s a habit of mine that I’ve not been able to discard.”

Eivor rested an arm on his knee. “You must have a lot on your mind to constantly slip into a trance like that.”

“Who doesn’t? Especially nowadays?”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The prince turned around to face his companion, gazing upwards with an expression of embarrassment.

“Listen, Eivor... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable during our conversation earlier. I realize I opened myself up quite a bit. Perhaps even too much. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

The younger man shook his head. “Stop apologizing for everything. You did nothing wrong. In fact, I enjoyed the talk we had. So there’s no need to fret.”

Sigurd sighed in relief. “That’s good to hear. Your feelings are important to me. The last thing I want is to back you into a corner.”

Eivor put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Believe me, I’ll let you know if that ever happens. There won’t be any need for guessing.”

The older man smirked at that. “Sounds good to me.”

Sigurd stood up from the bench and stretched the stiffness out of his neck, eager to get back to their normal lives.

“Shall I walk you back to the longhouse?” He offered, gesturing to the distant building. “I imagine you want some rest after everything that’s happened.”

Eivor smiled fondly at him, not quite ready to part ways just yet. “Actually, I was planning to visit the tavern. I could use a hot meal right now. And a good drink as well. Care to join me?”

“Are you sure? I assumed you would’ve gotten tired of me by now.” Sigurd joked.

The other man threw an alluring glance at him, strolling ahead of the prince as he steadily trekked down the path snaking away from the temple.

“Not in the slightest.”

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